Why is it always me?

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/41342541.

Rating: Not Rated

Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Categories: F/M, M/M
Fandom: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Relationships: Will Byers/Mike Wheeler, Eleven | Jane Hopper/Mike Wheeler, Eleven |
Jane Hopper & Mike Wheeler, Maxine "Max" Mayfield/Lucas Sinclair,
Joyce Byers/Jim "Chief" Hopper, Jonathan Byers/Nancy Wheeler, Minor
Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson - Relationship
Characters: Eleven | Jane Hopper, Will Byers, Mike Wheeler, Jonathan Byers,
Argyle (Stranger Things), Jack Sullivan (Stranger Things), Sam Owens
(Stranger Things), Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Lucas Sinclair, Dustin
Henderson, Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington, Nancy Wheeler, Robin
Buckley, Joyce Byers, Jim "Chief" Hopper, Henry Creel | One | Vecna,
Vecna (Stranger Things)
Additional Tags: My First Work in This Fandom, Hurt Will Byers, Torture, Blood and
Injury, Threats of Violence, Death Threats, Protective Jonathan Byers,
Protective Mike Wheeler, Protective Will Byers, will byers whump,
Human Experimentation, To an extent...you'll see, The Upside Down
(Stranger Things), Vecna is an asshole guys, we all know this, Gay Will
Byers, Mike has a sexuality crisis at the wrong fucking time, Mike
Wheeler Loves Will Byers, He figures that out later, BAMF Eleven |
Jane Hopper, We stan El being a queen!, Max and Nancy and all the
other girls too ofc, Sullivan dude being an asshole, Minor 80's
government bashing please don't assassinate me, Will Byers Can't Catch
a Break, Poor Will Byers, He's a tired boi, BAMF Joyce Byers,
Kidnapping, Gun Violence, It's pretty graphic in some parts guys so just
be wary, Episode: s04e08 Papa (Stranger Things), No Beta we die like
Barb and Bob and Billy and Alexei, and Eddie and Chrissy and Fred and
Bobby and that one basketball kid
Language: English
Series: Part 2 of Will Deserves Better (Better angst and whump, that is)
Stats: Published: 2022-08-28 Updated: 2024-01-06 Words: 15,625 Chapters:
6/?
 Why is it always me?
by peanut_787

Summary

It all happened so fast.

One moment, they had jumped out of the pizza van and taken a bruised and exhausted El into
their arms.

Then soldiers emerged from the underground lab and started to shoot at them.

OR:

The Cali gang doesn't escape or save El, and they all go through some shit from that Sullivan
guy (mostly Will, rip).

Notes

Not beta read or anything...sorry for any mistakes!

 There's no words for where I'm trapped

It all happened so fast.

One moment, they had jumped out of the pizza van and taken a bruised and exhausted El into
their arms.

Then soldiers emerged from the underground lab and started to shoot at them.

Will barely had time to react, while his sister instantly sent the wall of armed men flying
backwards. It didn't stop the bullets hurling their way, though. Somehow, they all managed to
dodge them. Will felt one whizz past his head and clip at a piece of his ear, but he jumped
into the sand below him before he could get any worse injuries.

It didn't stop the bleeding that oozed out of the wound, or the stinging that erupted, but it
could've been worse so he focused on figuring out a way to escape.

Jonathan and Argyle were shouting for the kids to get to the van. Will watched as El
collapsed and fell unconsious into Mike's arms.

"El? El!"

Will scuttled back to his feet and helped Mike pick her up. As they wrapped her arms around
their shoulders, the soliders ahead started getting back up and readying their weapons again.
With El passed out, they were on their own.

"We have to go! Hurry!"

Mike and Will started dashing back for the vehicle with El. They weren't far from it when
Will saw something hit the ground in front of him.

Jonathan, still a few yards back, seemed to notice what it was before them, and instantly
screamed for them to fall back.

They did so upon realizing that the thing was a fucking grenade!

But they weren't too far when it went off, sending the three behind flying back, and the two
by the car crashing into it and hitting their heads.

El fell from Will's grip and he felt his body hit the sand.

There was a pulse in his ears -- was that his own heartbeat? Time seemed to slow down as his
vision went blurry and a piercing ringing thundered in his skull. There was a dull pain
somewhere in the back of his head, and maybe his chest and back, but he couldn't really
process it all when he was starting to feel darkness swallow him.
The explosion left all of his senses broken. He could barely see, smell, feel...he couldn't even
see much beyond the blurry blue sky high above him. Black dots slowly started to poke into
his eyesight as well. His thoughts wouldn't render it.

Have to save El. Have to get to El. Have to...Have to...

Beyond the dying color above him he could see blurred shadows approach him. Over the
ringing and pulsing, he could barely hear their voices, one of them low and commanding.

"Take...base...need to...the girl...this boy...interogation...when they wake up..."

Will let himself slip into sleep.

<---------->

He woke up tied down to a chair.

As soon as he remembered what had happened, fear coiled down his throat and tied into a
knot in his stomach.

The room around him was empty, the walls purely cement with only a single light fixture
above his head, illuminating him in a spotlight that also highlighted how small the room was.
There were no windows, and only a single door across from where his seat was fixed against
the back wall. It was metal and bolted into the wall. Even if he could somehow get out of his
bindings (that being a set of ropes wrapping his arms to the chair's armrests and his legs to
the two front legs of the chair) he wouldn't be able to get out.

He was stuck. And he didn't even know where everyone else was.

But the thought of what had happened to El seemed to be the most unsettling.

Had they killed her?

Were they experimenting on her?

Was she in a similar position as him?

There was no way of knowing, and that was Will's biggest fear. The fear of the unknown. It
had stuck with him ever since his father's first outburst when he was six. He hadn't known
what would happen if he walked in on his dad having a violent fit, hadn't known if he would
survive his wrath, hadn't known what had trapped him in the strange dark, cold place he
slowly lost life in for a week. He didn't know what that strange butterfly feeling in his
stomach was every time he looked at Mike.

Not knowing was the scariest thing imaginable.

He wanted to know if his friends were safe.

He wanted to know if he would be.

It didn't take him long to find the answer to one of these questions. Eventually, an unknown
time had passed before the door opened with a groan, and someone in a strange cloak and
mask approached him. In the person's gloved hand was a small case. Will was hesitant in
wanting to know what lied inside.

The figure stopped and set the case on the ground, falling suit on their knees. Will watched
with confusion as they unfastened the case, and as soon as what was insde revealed itself,
Will wanted the chair to swallow him whole.

A bunch of needles and syringes of different sizes were laid out in an organized pattern in a
padded cell. A few small containers of different colored liquids were tied together onto the
inner lid of the case, but the person choosing between the syringes seemed to ignore the
medicinal things and instead picked out a concerningly large cyllinder.

It wasn't the largest of the options, but it was the second. It was longer than Will's middle
finger, and just a little thinner than his wrist. Along with it, the masked individual drew a
long and sharp looking needle, and fit it into the top of the syringe.

Will started to shake under the ropes.

Were they drawing his blood?

There wasn't anything in the syringe, so that's what they had to be doing.

But for what reason?

The person took out a packet of alchohol wipes before standing and coming up to Will.

He tried to struggle under their grip, but knew with his position it was pointless.

His arm was forcefully grabbed and held still and his sleeve was rolled up to his elbow. For a
moment, the person did nothing, and he could've sworn he hearn them swear under their
breath.

It took him until they carefully started lossening the rope around his right arm to realize that
they wanted easier access to his veins. He didn't dare try anything when the rope was
loosened just enough to turn his arm around a bit, and a damp cloth was rubbed a few inches
back from the visible veins of his wrist.

Will closed his eyes and waited.

The needle was definetly bigger than any flu shot he'd ever taken, which is why he couldn't
help the pained cry that fled his mouth.

The needle went deeper, and deeper, making him shout and squirm, then stopped. He could
practically feel the blood being sucked from his arm. It hurt, really bad. It was so bad that he
actually teared up and started holding back sobs and tears, just waiting for it to be over.

And it was eventually.

And then it was pulled with little caution out of his arm -- ripped, basically.

This time he didn't shout. He screamed. Shrilly.

The masked doctor person didn't show any care as they took the vile of his blood and locked
it safely in the case. They were, at least, kind enough to pat a bandage over the bloody gap in
his skin.

Of course, he thought under tears. They don't want me to bleed out. They don't care if I'm in
pain, it's the government, after all.

As soon as the person was gone, and the door was once again shut, Will let himself break
down completely.

"Weak."

His father's voice filled his head.

"So fucking weak, can't even handle a shot without crying!"

And Will could only keep doing just that.

<---------->

Mike wasn't doing so great.

For starters, he was tied to a chair, stuck in a small, dimly lit room, with only the ropes at his
hands and legs, as well as the door ahead of him, as pathetic company. Nobody's been in
since he'd woken up, leaving him calling for anyone. El, especially.

His mind wandered back to what happened back at NINA.

He'd been flung back by the explosion. His body fell away from his girlfriend's as he landed
and rolled along the burning sand. His ears rung, but he felt okay otherwise.

El had landed a few yards away from him, body limp.

Will was even further, looking almost dead.

Mike's heart dropped at both sights.

"Wi-" he started, before noticing something start up under El.

Beneath her body, a cluster of purple and bluish slime-like substances spread out and opened
up in the sand. Mike barely had time to even process the thing before his girlfriend was
suddenly sucked in through it, and it started closing up again.

Only then did he actually try to do something. Unfortunately, by the time he'd reached the
spot where El had been, the hole closed up and sand retook its place.

"El!" he screamed. "El! Eleven! Jane!"

But she was long gone.

And soon, his arms were being grabbed and pulled, forcing his body into a standing position
while he tried jumping back at the ground. He kept screaming her name in anguish, until he
watched more soldiers approach Will's body.

One of them wasn't in any sort of armor. Rather, he was dressed in a weirdly clean suit that
raidiated an energy of authority. The man was tall, broad, and dark skinned. Mike would've
felt more intimidated by him if he hadn't faced bigger and scarier forces in the past.

The man looked over at Mike briefly, then the spot where El had vanished. Then back down to
Will.

"Take them all to location twelve. It's the closest base to Hawkins. We need to find the girl as
soon as possible. This boy might just be the key to getting her back."

Mike's head turned to face Jonathan and Argyle, now being tied up and dragged over to one
of the only black vans still standing in the wake of El's attacks. He faced the group of soldiers
and the man again, and started to scream when they picked Will up, too.

"They'll be taken into interogation and questioned when they wake up. For now, load em' up."

"No!" Mike cried. "Let him go! Get your hands off of him! Let him go! Let him go!"

And then something stabbed into the side of his neck and knocked him unconsious.

Mike's heart grew more and more silent as each moment was replayed.

They'd taken Will, too. And his brother. And Argyle.

But they'd taken Will.

And will didn't deserve to go through anything else. He'd been through so much already.

And El? Where had she gone? What even was that thing?

It was all a lot. Too much.

Mike let out a weak cry. A scared one. But it wasn't as bad as the hoarse scream that suddenly
echoed into his room from outside.

Mike's head shot up and he looked at the door, the direction in which the scream was coming
from. The scream was full of pain, shaky, and higher than any other scream he'd ever heard.
But he knew it wasn't a girl's voice crying out. No, he knew this scream. He hated that he
did.

But he still did.

Will's scream only lasted a few seconds, before dulling down into a crying. And then his
voice disappeared completely.

"Will!" Mike cried out for him. "Will? Will! Will! Don't hurt him, please! Please don't touch
him! Will! Will!"

His voice went unheard.

<---------->

The man sitting across from him looked rather frightening.

Not in the demogorgan or Mind Flayer kind of way, though.

No, it was more of a human and formal kind of intimidating. A buisness kind. His arms were
folded on the metal table between them and he leaned forward an inch, his eyes boaring into
Jonathan like he could read all of his deepest and darkest secrets.

But Jonathan wasn't scared. Not of him, no.

He was scared of what he could do, however, seeing how high up in the government he
seemed to be.

Not to mention the fact that his brother was somewhere in this same facility, his painful
screams seered into the very center of the older brother's mind. Jonathan had cried out for
him for what felt like hours -- it could've very well been, but he didn't have a clock or a
window, so he couldn't tell.

All he knew now, though, was that they had done something to his baby brother.
They'd hurt him. That was what scared Jonathan above all else.

Silence sat between the two of them for a while.

Until Jonathan finally spoke up.

"What did you do to him?"

The man had the audacity to actually looked puzzled by this question. If his hands were free,
Jonathan would surely punch him.

"I don't know what you mean, son."

He glared.

"You know exactly what I mean. What did you do to Will? Where is my brother?"

The man sighed and leaned back again. He studied Jonathan as if he were a picture, eyes deep
and structured and just plain wicked. They were uncaring. Lying.

"I'm afraid you're not the one supposed to be questioning me, here."

"I don't care!" Jonathan shouted. "I want to know what you did to him!"

"Mr. Byers, anger won't get you anywhere. And if you really must know, all we did was draw
a blood sample for a little...test. It's not my fault he didn't take to well to what was only a
simple prick."

Weak. That's what this guy was insinuating. Jonathan's ears flared red, but he didn't say
anything more.

At the wordless response, the man finally looked pleased.

"My name is Lt. Colonel Jack Sullivan. The reason you're here right now is-"

"Because you want to kill my sister."

"I don't take to well to people interupting me, son. I suggest you keep your mouth shut until
ordered to do otherwise."

"And why would I do that?" Jonathan narrowed his eyes on the colonel. The man hummed.
"Because you don't want us to have to resort to any forceful methods. I wouldn't like to have
to reach that point, but I'll do what I have to."

"Go ahead, then, use those forceful methods on me. I fucking dare you."

"Your stubborness amuses me, Jonathan," he said grimly. "But it won't do you any good, I
assure you. For you, for your long haired friend, nor for Michael or your brother."

Jonathan's blood went cold. His body tensed.

"If we have to, we can bring him in here to keep you in control. Is that what we want, here?"

The idea of seeing Will being hurt right in front of him wasn't at all comforting. At the same
time, though, at least they'd be in the same room.

But I can't let him get hurt.

To his own annoyance, he finally gave in and nodded in compliance.

"Thank you, Jonathan. Now, I would like to ask you some questions..."

Jonathan cursed.

<---------->

Cold surrounded her.

It's what woke her up, actually.

In an instant, El was sitting up straight, mouth open and breathing in quick and sporadically.
Her eyes were wide and filled with shock.

But then she saw her surroundings, and suddenly, her entire horrified demenour morphed into
confusion and terror.

Trees. Trees were everywhere.

It was dark, foggy, and again, so cold.

El stood up and look around again to make sure she was seeing things right.

The NINA lab was nowhere to be seen. The pizza van and her friends weren't, either. She
finally came to the conclusion that what she was seeing and feeling was real, and not just
some weird dream.

El screamed, but nobody answered.

"Help! Mike? Will? Help me!"

Nobody.

She knew there wouldn't be any replies, but she wanted to try anyway.

Tears came racing down her face as she finally understood what was going on.

"Help me! Somebody, anybody! Please! Help me!"

El was in the Upside Down.

 I can't tell him, but if I do, he'll hurt them
Chapter Summary

Jonathan and Will are interrogated. Things work out...well. Not for them, of course.

Mike had nightmares and fears for Will's life.

Chapter Notes

There may of may not be a Fearstreet (Part I) reference hidden in here...it's kinda
obvious, but see if you can find it lmao

Will fell asleep. Woke up. Dozed. Slept. Woke up.

Each time he rose, his body was sorer than it was before. His wrists chaffed up to the point of
blistering and swelling underneath their ropes, and his legs grew numb. His neck cramped,
the poorly bandaged arm bit at his veins every so often, and he could barely breathe with how
small the room was.

There had to be some kind of ventilation system running through it, though, because he could
feel a small spout of cool air washing over him from somewhere off to the side. Not that it
was of any sort of comfort. It made his situation a little better, though.

It had to have been at least hours since his last guest -- maybe even over a day. His limbs
couldn't have gotten too weak in a short span of time.

Not that he paid enough attention in biology to even really know how his body worked. It
didn't matter now, anyway.

Despite the pain and exhaustion, his thoughts put different matters onto the penestule of
importance.

Mike. Jonathan. Argyle.

Where were they?

If Mike was dead...he'd never be able to think again. He'd shut down, lose a sense of self. His
heart would stop and ultimately end up killing him, because without Mike's bright and
beautiful smile, it just wouldn't be able to work. Mike being dead meant his heart being
ripped open and smashed. It meant his life was at its end.

If Jonathan was dead, then he might be even more broken. Jonathan was his brother; his idol,
the man he looked up to, and, more importantly, his big brother. Jonathan had protected him
from so much, from Lonnie's rage to the threats of the Upside Down. Jonathan was his rock.
What house stood stable if it didn't have a sturdy foundation?

And then there was Argyle. Will would cry. He wouldn't be as destroyed as he would by the
other two, but he'd still feel upset. Argyle was innocent, had done nothing to deserve any of
this. And he'd dragged him into their mess of a past, a past that was supposed to be over.
Argyle was just an innocent bystander caught in the crossfire, here. An extremely high, pizza
loving, terrible driving one.

Will could feel tears start to form in his eyes.

But they cleared away when the sound of footsteps from outside echoed.

Will's breath hitched.

He waited.

The footsteps stopped.

The door opened, and blinding light filtered into the dimmer space.

"Hello there, William."

<---------->

"That's all I have to ask as of currently. Thank you for your cooperation, Jonathan."

Said man glared as his interrogator stood up and collected the papers strewn across the table.
A group of soldiers in armor with guns slung over their shoulders came in and dragged the
table back out of the room, leaving Jonathan alone under the flickering spotlight above him.

Sullivan followed the men out, stopping in the doorway to look back at Jonathan with a
pitiful attempt at an expression of sympathy.

"Need I remind you, young man, that this is all for the welfare of your country?"

"Interrogating and hurting a group of kids?" Jonathan scoffed. "Typical of you guys, right?
Makes me hate Ted Wheeler even more for his blind loyalty in you."

Sullivan didn't show any signs of offense or anger. He only watched Jonathan with a binding
look for a few tense and silent moments. He then slowly started closing the door, draining the
bright lights outside until only a sliver came in, and the man's head still poked through.

"Hopefully you'll come to see just how dangerous your friend is. I-"

"I told you a million times: she's my sister! I already gave you evidence of her innocence,
shouldn't that be enough?"

"I'm afraid we cannot believe in much you have to say, Byers. You show clear bias toward the
young girl and it only raises our suspicions of you and our other two prisoners. It would be in
your best interest to comprehend the true danger your... sister holds. Accept it. That's all I can
ask of you."

Jonathan scowled. "I can't accept a lie. She-"

Sullivan turned away suddenly, stopping his voice. Muffled voices conversed just outside,
before the man turned back to give Jonathan one last look. This time, though, his eyes
showed more emotion.

Smugness. Cunningness. Something vile.

Clearly, he knew something Jonathan didn't, and knew he wouldn't like it.

"I'm afraid our time together is done for today. I will send in a tray of food before I go to visit
your brother. Goodnight."

Jonathan didn't have time to register his words until the door was closed, and the only light
now in the room was the dingy one on the ceiling.

He started to scream.

"No! No! Stay away from him! Don't touch him! Don't you fucking-"

<---------->

A feeling of discomfort settled in Will's gut as a metal table was brought into the room, along
with a chair. Once the arrangement was done -- the tabled hovering over an inch of his lap,
the other chair sitting across from him -- the soldiers left, closing the door. The only ones left
inside were Will, and whoever this tall and rather formidable man was.

He held a briefcase in his hands.

Nothing like that medicinal bag, thank God!

His relief was cut short as the man settled down in front of him and set his bag down beside
him. Instantly, Will tried to shrink back. The way this man looked at him was anything but
friendly, and his hands coming up to clasp each other over the table, revealing the toned
muscles running up each through the sleeves of his suit, had the boy flinching.

They stayed quiet for a while.

"You're nothing like what your brother pictured you to be," was the conversation starter.

Will's stomach twisted.

He talked to Jonathan?

"Did you...D-Did you hurt him?"

"Oh, no, no, no, of course not! He cooperated well. Well, not until after we had to enforce
him to. He's quite stubborn, isn't he?"

"Y-Yeah," Will swallowed shakily. "H-He...He is."

"Hm...well then, may I assume the same of you?"

No.

"That depends. What do...What d-do you want from...from us? Why did you- um, why
did...did..."

The man nodded to show he understood. At that point, he pulled his briefcase up and set it on
the table. His eyes didn't leave Will's as he unclasped the buckles and opened it up, revealing
stacks of paper inside.

He reached in and pulled two pages out.

He slid them in front of Will so he could see the small charts and bold lettering labeling the
sides.

" This," the man said, pointing to the one on Will's left. "This is your blood before it went
into testing."

He gestured to a small image at the corner of the page, outside of the chart of relatively
smooth spikey red lines. The image showed what Will could only assume to be his blood,
because he recognised the small dots spotting the inner walls of some kind of cell.

Maybe biology had taught him something after all.

"And this is after we put it through some thorough examination."

Will's eyes switched over to the second page.

"That was six hours ago -- your blood was extracted seven hours ago, leaving an hour's room
for it to adjust to being outside your body."
This chart was much different than the first. The red lines running across it were much taller
and reached over the one hundred number mark (whereas the previous sample was settled at
forty-nine). And the image in this one was much more clustered.

The so-called "cell" wasn't littered with the normal appearing dots and spheres. Well, it was,
but this time darker and bigger ones were shoving through the smaller. Most were attached
together by a small tether that looked like a thin DNA strand, which also had small blurry
black branch-like lines crawling out. Will didn't even know what any of this was, but he
knew he wasn't good. Or, for him, it wasn't.

"Even in that time, I highly doubt that it had this effect on your blood. We compared it with
Wheeler's, and-"

"Wait, you what?"

Will forgot about his previous discomfort and fears.

They'd touched Mike. They'd done a similar test on his best friend.

The bastard in front of him seemed unfazed by his anger.

"Well, we-"

"You extracted his blood, too? Why? Why!"

Will started struggling and shaking in his chair. This bastard better hope he get away before I
escape these ropes!

"William, calm yourself, now. It won't help matters if you're angry."

Will didn't calm down. If anything, he shook more.

"William."

"How dare you? You son of a bitch! You son of a bitch!"

"Mr. Byers."

"You hurt him, too? You hurt him! You hurt him! You-"

"Will, if we have to, we will bring your friend in here and really hurt him if you don't quiet
immediately!"

As if a switch had been flipped, Will froze. The now-standing-up man looked at him
expectantly, and, upon getting a nod of understanding, sank back into his seat.

"Thank you. Now, as I was saying before, we compared both of your blood samples, and
they're both completely different. Your friend’s has remained relatively the same. Yours,
however, has not."
Will forced back tears and nodded slowly to show he was listening.

But he wasn't. Not too much, anyway. The very idea of Mike being tortured to keep him quiet
terrified him. It sure did its job in sewing his lips shut.

"And we believe we know why," the man leaned in closer. "Tell me, Will, have you felt
anything...off, in the past few weeks?"

Fearful that talking would do more harm than good, Will shook his head.

"Any nightmares? Anything about past traumatic events?"

Again, he shook his head.

Which was a partial lie. He'd had many dreams the past few nights of his father, and of being
rejected. But those didn't seem worth mentioning here.

"Hm...it seems your distance from Hawkins has severed your connection."

Will's eyebrows furrowed.

"Wh-What...What d-do...What do you mean?"

"With the other dimension, the Upside Down, as you kids named it. We believe the events
that have occured in Hawkins not only connect with Jane Hopper, but with that place, as
well."

The discomfort grew back within the span of a second after the place was mentioned.

"And what do you think that has to...to do...to do with...with my...my blood?"

And Mike's?

In the little time Will had been with whoever the hell this agent dude was, he'd only seen
even a sliver of anger once a few minutes ago. Even then, he barely seemed to allow any
feeling to be visible. Now, though, clear irritation and impatience crossed his features.

"You certainly can't be so dense, Mr. Byers?"

Will flinched back. "I-I really don't understand, Sir. I don't."

"The week you went missing, William. You were pulled into the Upside Down by the
Demogorgon, and exposed to what was proved by the scientists of Hawkins laboratory as a
toxic atmosphere. You came out fine, of course. But...did you?"

Will opened his mouth, but closed it again. Mentally, not at all. Physically? Well...not that,
either.

"You started -- what was it? -- puking up slugs? Demo-creatures?"

Will could only take a hitched pitch of air.

"How do you know all of this?"

"That doesn't matter. What does, William, is that ever since you were pulled under your
hometown, you've stayed tied to it. Your blood has been infected by the Upside Down ever
since you went missing, or maybe later, when you were taken hostage by that...thing."

"The Mind Flayer," he softly corrects.

The man nods. "Yes. That. And while as of now I know you won't want to willingly help us
retrieve your sister from the Upside Down, there may be other ways to do so."

"Wait...what? What do you m-mean El is in the-"

"No more time should be wasted on pathetic explanations, Mr. Byers, so I suggest you keep
quiet."

Will again listened.

The man sighed and started putting the blood samples away.

"Right now, we're working on using your blood to make our own portal into the Upside
Down. If what we are currently doing doesn't work, I'm afraid your judgment won't matter.
You will help find her and destroy that place, whether you want to or not."

Will's fearful gaze morphed into a glare while the man stood and straightened himself up. He
tightened his tie, dusted his suit, and sorted his things back into his briefcase, which he closed
with a small click. He reached back and knocked on the metal door, which screamed around
Will and made him flinch. But he didn't move his eyes away from his interrogator.

"You can't destroy the Upside Down. People have died trying to do it."

"Because they were too afraid to do what they had to do."

The door opened, and the soldiers returned to gather up the table and chair. The man stayed
where he was, watching Will curiously. It was like he was studying the teenager. Fascinated.
Interested. Excited, even.

"They were too afraid to kill you with it. But if you and others' deaths are what I must endure
to keep my world safe, then so be it."

And with the slam of the door, Will was once again alone.

<---------->

Mike understood Will's screams, now.

He was actually surprised that he'd managed to keep his lips shut tight as they shoved the
needle into his arm and pulled it back out. In doing so he'd ripped his bottom lip open, but the
blood dripping down his chin was worth the satisfaction he'd taken away from these people.

Now, it was a dull but nonetheless painful throb. Because of it, Mike couldn't get
comfortable.

Did they do this to Jonathan and Argyle, too?

They were older than he and Will, so they'd probably manage to get through it easier if they
had.

As time passed, Mike slowly started to feel more tired.

But, of course, fate thought he didn't deserve any rest, and he was woken up by the same
robed figure who'd come in earlier to draw his blood. This time, there was no medical case in
their hand. Instead, it was a tray of food -- peanut butter neatly smothered over two slices of
white bread, a small glass of milk, a taller glass of water, and a small bowl of grapes.

"At least you guys aren't giving me prisoner food," he muttered to the person.

They didn't answer. They only set the tray down and stepped back. Mike looked at them as if
they'd just given him a dog corpse.

"Um, I can't...I can't eat it if I'm tied up, can I?"

The silence between them as the person stood across from him was awkward, to say the least.
Mike kept trying to get the person to unbind him (maybe he could overtake them by
slamming the tray onto their head and leaping through his prison door. But nothing happened.

And then two soldiers came in.

Oh, he realized as they started untying him. That makes more sense.

And so he was forced to eat with two armed men holding guns up to his head.

And after that, he was once again tied down and left in the shadowy room.

Mike was actually able to fall asleep after that, though. It was anything but comfortable and
peaceful -- dreams of El being torn apart by the demogorgon in the upside down plagued his
mind, alongside scenes of Will being experimented on and tested by Hawkins Lab scientists
as his body was being manipulated by the Mind Flayer. The horror ended with one last
dream, being him walking through a ruined Hawkins, everyone he knew and loved dead.

His mom and dad holding hands with eyes unseeing as they stared up at the sky.

Holly curled into an unmoving ball with one of her toys held close to her still chest.

Nancy and Jonathan holding each other in a mess of ripped limbs, torn flesh, and drying
blood.
Steve's stomach being ripped open by a demodog in the middle of the street.

Robin's chest and stomach torn open by what looked to be multiple stab wounds.

Max's limbs twisted in disturbing ways, with her eyes glazed over in a misty grey and small
paths of blood streaming from them.

The front and back of Lucas' head blown open by a gunshot.

Dustin's pale corpse strangled against the bark of a tree.

Joyce holding onto the skeleton of (based on the jacket and hat) Hopper, her shirt stained
with fresh tears.

El exploding in a mess of blood and gore. Dust and ash.

And then there was Will.

The only one who seemed alive.

But...he wasn't, Mike somehow knew. Not really.

Will floated above them all with the sky flooded with red and black and orange. His hands
and legs stretched out to either side of himself. His head was faced up in what was surely a
painful position. A large, spider like shadow stood right above him in the stormy clouds.

Mike tried to get to Will, but he was too late.

He watched helplessly as black trails of smoke shot out of the boy's body and into the sky,
into the Mind Flayer.

And then Will's body was twisted, just like Max's had been.

His legs were pulled back with matching grotesque cracks. His arms were also snapped
backward and forward abnormally.

Will's neck snapped, and he fell to the ground.

Mike woke up before he could even reach the dream-Will.

He couldn't help but scream.

 We're being forced to do things we don't want to
Chapter Summary

Will is sent on a non-consensual mission.

Argyle is questioned.

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Days had to have passed. Will counted eleven meals in total so far, each hours apart. What he
assumed to be dinner and the time between it and breakfast was the longest. He tried sleeping
through it but it was almost useless.

Will calculated three days, at least, But he couldn't be completely certain.

Since his first meeting with the suited man, he'd only ever seen the same tall, muscular
soldiers come in to untie him and make him eat. He hadn't seen or heard of the guy since
before he'd been given his first tray of food. Since before he'd heard Mike scream somewhere
outside his room for a moment, and then go silent.

That had Will screaming himself and calling for his best friend. He'd gotten no answer, even
after his throat went dry and scratchy.

As the unknown series of numbers passed, Will felt the skin of his wrists break and small
strips of blood drip down his arms. The soldiers didn't even bother patching him up after
untying him. But it wasn't even painful at that point -- instead, it was just numb, and sore, and
weak. That's all his body was at this point.

"Weak, pathetic."

"Boys don't cry!"

"I won't have a crybaby for a fucking son!"

He also had nightmares. They were as rare as his naps, but they had happened.

Some were worse than others.

Mike and his family being slaughtered. His father beating him and leaving him for dead.
Being possessed again by the Mind Flayer and killing all of Hawkins. His younger self being
run off the road by a disfigured shadow, wheeling down the small hill lining the road, and the
sound of a grandfather clock piercing the dark of the forest.

Will was currently not doing alright.

Mentally or physically.

And the idea that his sister might now be running around the Upside Down wasn't helping.

I just want to go home. I just want to go home! Why can't I ever catch a break? Just let me go
home!"

If he hadn't cried all his tears away, he would break down again.

"Boys don't cry!"

Will took a shaky breath from where he was slumped back, head lilted forward and eyes half-
focused on his own lap.

"D-Darling y-you got to...to let me know. Sh-Sh-Should I st-stay or should I go?"

He wasn't sure why he was singing. Or...stuttering, more like. Maybe he thought that because
it helped keep him safe in the Upside Down, it could do the same now? it had saved him
once, maybe it could again. The only source of comfort he currently had lied in The Clash's
hands.

"If you s-say that..." he took another breath. "t-that you are mine. I'll be there 'till the...e-end
of t-t-t-time. So you got to let m-me know...should I stay or should I-"

The lyrics were cut off with the sound of a lock turning, and the metal door opening.

Will flinched as bright light flooded his eyes and brought back the painful thundering in his
head. His eyes snapped shut and his head turned away, despite the light taking over the entire
room.

He waited for a moment to open them again. His exhausted hazel eyes didn't adjust easily,
leaving the majority of his vision blurry and blank. That's why the feeling of hands on him
came as a small surprise, but he didn't struggle much.

He assumed he was being sat back down on the floor to eat again.

So he tried to kneel down.

But a team of hands slid on his shoulders and under his armpits on either side, keeping him
standing up on wobbly ankles. His head spun wildly in both confusion and discomfort (which
obviously meant it had been days, because if it hadn't he wouldn't be so feeble). He blacked
out a bit, almost not feeling the sensations of being pushed and half dragged out of his prison
and down some sort of corridor.

Still, his eyes wouldn't focus right. So he just kept them closed.
He lost and regained consciousness several times.

Each time he muttered jumbled words and slurred questions.

"Wh...Whe...'re we goin?'"

"...ut's goin' on?"

"Wha...wha..."

And then he passed out completely.

Only to be awoken a minute later by a harsh slap to the face.

His eyes shot open along with his mouth in surprise and sudden alertness. Instantly, he found
himself somewhere completely different than the room he'd been secured in. Now, the ceiling
stretched much higher by what had to be ten times his height, even from the rafters he stood
upon, which hovered above the ground below, where panels and desks were aligned together
surrounding a large water-filled tube.

In front of him stood the man who had slapped him. The man who’d interrogated him and
threatened Mike’s safety. He was wearing the same suit – or a replica of it – except now he
wore a badge clipped to the pocket of his suit.

Lieutenant Colonel. Jack A. Sullivan.

That was quite a high ranking. No wonder he was so formidable and authoritative.

Jack Sullivan smirked down at Will and pulled his hand away from the reddened mark on his
face. Holding Will’s arms to the side were men in jet-black suits, like the older man’s, except
that guy’s suit had a light Onyx tint. It was the same shade he’d colored pieces of the Party’s
armor in his painting.

“She needs you, and she always will.”

Now wasn’t the time to get emotional…

“Unfortunately for you, William, your blood samples weren’t enough. We have to resort to…
other tactics, to get to the Upside Down.”

With as weak as he was, Will couldn’t really struggle in his captors’ grips. But he did have
enough energy to stare at Sullivan coldly.

“It’s probably not working because we’re across the country. The Upside Down is-”
“In Hawkins, yes. We know. And you assume we’re still in Nevada?”

Will’s heart stuttered and his face paled.

“We…We’re in Hawkins?”

“So you aren’t that dense after all,” he hummed as an answer. He gestured his head sideways.
“Bring him to the tank.”

“What…What are we doing?”

Will was forced up a small pair of stairs and over a small bridge. Moving further, Will found
the top of the tank in the center of the raptors, a giant lid-like platform over it. Around were
more control panels and a few people dressed in lab coats and jackets.

“If you haven’t figured it out already, we’ve returned to the Hawkins Lab, where it all first
began.”

Sure enough, Will could see the scars stretching upward along the tiled wall to his left where
the portal once was. Small black flares and crispy bits outlined it.

“In order to access the alternate dimension, we needed to return and read through the old
research of those who abandoned this place over a year ago. We found records and old tapes
of how your sister had first gained contact with the Upside Down. We believe that, while you
may not have her powers, your connection with that place may grant you the same access.”

“A…A…A sensory dep-deprivation tank?”

“You understand.”

“Yes, but…but I don’t want to do it.”

“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice, Mr. Byers.”

They all stopped, and Will was suddenly surrounded by a bunch of people holding cords and
machines and straps. Will’s shirt was covered by a tight white vest wrapped around his torso
and tightened around his shoulders. Small electronic boxes were placed in little pockets
around the clothing, cords attached to them. Will could only stay still and let them do it, as
much as he wanted them to stop.

“It won’t work. I’m telling you, it-it…I can’t…”

“We won’t know until we try then, will we?”

The crowd of scientists pulled away once they were finished, leaving Will feeling like a
robot. The grips on his arms returned and he was guided to a strange lift he could’ve sworn
hadn’t been there before.

They stood him inside and forced his hands to grip onto the sides of the device. Again, being
in the state he was, he couldn’t try to fight it.
“And if it doesn’t?”

The man gave him one last smirk.

“Try, try, and try again.”

He couldn’t reply before a metal helmet was shoved over his head and situated on his
shoulders.

“When you go under,” the man’s now muffled voice spoke. “Close your eyes. Focus. If you
don’t, there will be means to bring your friends into this.”

And then he was being lowered.

<---------->

“Tell us everything you know. The whole story.”

“The whole story?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, brochicha, I’m not sure you wanna stick around to hear-”

“I’ll stay here as long as it takes for you to give us the information. Now tell us, Argyle
Franco, everything.”

“Oh boy, alright. You asked for it. Well, you see, it all starts in 1968. Two lovely adults –
Amy Diaz, and Carlos Franco – ran into each other at the corner of Teepak and Moirver in
the lovely city of-”

“What do your parents have to do with this, might I ask?”

“Well, you told me to tell you everything. I’m starting from there!”

“No, that- ugh. That isn’t what I meant. Tell us everything you know about the Byers,
specifically Jane.”

“Oh, well, why didn’t you just say so? Alright. So it actually starts on a lovely sunny day in
the middle of October. It was surprisingly warm for an autumnal day in California. The sky
was cloud-free, and the air was just the perfect amount of-”

“What does the climate have to do with this?”

“Well, I’m setting the scene, of course! It just wouldn’t make sense if I didn’t, cause you
might accidentally assume it’s cold, and say ‘oh, it must’ve been cold,’ but then I’d tell you it
wasn’t, because it was actually a nice-”
“Just cut it with all the details! I don’t care what the weather was like, I only care about Jane
and her family. Just tell me everything you know about them. Please.”

“Well, when we met, Jonathan and I instantly got along. He’s a pretty cool dude, y’know?
And his music taste is just schmackin’! Like, he’s got mixtapes featuring The Clash, The
Cure, Journey, Bon Jovi, Guns N’ Roses; he’s just a great guy, man! When he isn’t lying to
his girlfriend about applying to the same college, of course.”

“Oh my god…”

“But anyways, he’s great. And his baby brother is pretty cool, too. He’s a painter, y’know?
And his art is insane! Like, the guy has got more talent than me, and I once smoked twelve
rounds without passing out once!”

“Ugh, can you just please-”

“But he’s also a pretty shy kid. Pretty sure he’s paintin’ something for this crush he has at
school, but I know he’ll never give it to the girl without my influence. I was actually plannin’
on confronting him about it, right? But then Jane schmacked that blonde girl in the face with
a roller skate and we ended up running all over the west to find NINA. I thought it was a
small woman, which honestly, that theory still holds up, but-”

“Is there anything else? Please! Anything important, my god!”

“Oh, yeah, sure. Uh, well…I’m pretty sure you already know this, but Jane’s got these pretty
awesome powers, like…she brought down one of your own helicopters and blew it up with
her mind! Jonathan’s also got some pretty badass photography skills. And Will- oh, yeah!
There was this weird moment in the Surfer Boy Pizza van where he and Mike, like, had this
moment. I was kinda out of it cause’ of the Palm Tree Delight, but I heard some weird
shit…”

“Go on.”

“Are you sure? Ma’am, you’re looking a little bit bored over there and I don’t wanna-”

“Yes, please. I am sure. Go. On.”

“Okay. Well, I only really heard some stuff. Like, someone feels like a mistake for some
reason, and he gave Mike this painting. I think someone said something about needing Mike
always and not feeling like a mistake because of him? Someone was crying. I think it was
Will, though, because his eyes looked kinda red when we got out to find NINA.”

“Thank you for the information, Mr. Franco. That’s all we’ll be needing from you.”

“Oh, of course! And…hey, nice government lady?”

“Uh…yes?”

“You guys aren’t…hurting them, are you? I thought I heard screaming and…and they just
slammed the door in my face. That’s not cool, man.”
Chapter End Notes

Argyle is one of my favorite characters and you will never change my mind-
 I can't stand to do this one more time
Chapter Summary

Will is getting too tired and hurt to keep going, but Sullivan won't have that.

More pain. More hurt. Everyone hates life as of the current moment.

Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Will gasped as fresh air slammed into his face. His eyes flew open as soon as the mask was
removed from his head, and his body flinched forward and fell into the body of a worker,
who merely threw him down to the ground.

The boy was shaking, clearly full of fear and discomfort, but the soldier above him didn't take
any pity as he looked at him expectantly.

"Anything?"

Will pushed himself up onto his elbows and knees, and slowly looked up at Sullivan. His
bangs clutched at his wet forehead -- not because of the dunk tank, but because of the
extreme build-up of sweat now coating his entire face. His cheeks were flushed and his lips
were pale as paper. Again, though, Sullivan didn't seem to have a care about the boy's state at
all.

"N-N-N-No. I-I-I...I t-t-told you it wouldn't w-work."

Sullivan hummed.

"Then we'll simply have to try again."

Will let out a cry.

"No, no, no! Not again, please, not again! It's n-not working! It-It-It isn't going to!"

Against his pleading screams, Will was forced back up to his feet and shoved back into the
elevator. He tried to pull away but was met with brute strength that held him down, up until
they once again had the helmet on him and had strapped his wrists to the handlebars to his
sides. Will couldn't care for dignity at this point, not anymore. This was just too much -- I just
want to go home!
Through his blurry, tear-lumped vision, he saw Sullivan standing in front of him, watching
him once again be lowered into the water.

For the thirtieth time in the past six hours, Will Byers was submerged.

<---------->

Mike didn't even look up when his door opened.

He simply waited as the shadow of a figure approached him, hauling something at their side.
He wanted to peer up to see what said thing was, but he resisted that urge in favor of striking
against this place that had, so far, not been so hospitable to him.

The sound of metal hitting cement made him flinch, before he noticed the shadowy figure
wasn't one of the soldiers who'd come forcefully feed him and abandon him again. It was
actually a much slimmer, though more curvy shadow, and that led him to conclude that his
guest was a woman. Honestly, he prefered anyone else over that Sullivan dick-head.

Still, though, he refrained from meeting the woman, who sat down in the chair she brought in
with her.

There was momentary silence between them. Mike kept his eyes fixed on the ground in the
hopes she'd just leave.

But this was the government. Privacy meant nothing.

"Michael Wheeler. Age fourteen, born 1971 to Ted Wheeler and Karen Wheeler in Hawkins,
Indiana."

Mike scoffed. "Tell me something I don't know."

The woman didn't reply. She just kept ranting stupid information he already knew that he
ultimately just drowned out.

Why couldn't she just leave? What was she even doing here? This seemed completely
pointless and-

"I'm just going to ask you a few questions if that's alright."

Still avoiding her eyes, he laughed dryly. "It's not, but since I don't have a choice, go on
ahead."

"What is your relationship status with the following individuals..."

At this, Mike's eyebrows furrowed. What the hell was this for?
"Jane Hopper."

"Um...boyfriend and girlfriend?"

"You don't sound very confident about that, Mr. Wheeler."

"What the hell kind of question is that? We're boyfriend and girlfriend! Isn't that something
you should know?"

He finally looked at the woman, unable not to because of how ridiculous this situation was.
Her eyes stayed on him for a moment, looking smug but also intrugued in the most unsettling
way. If he could back away, he would.

Instead of questioning him on the subject further, she went on to another question.

"William Byers."

"He's...H-He's my-my..."

"What about us?"

"We're...We're friends, Will. Friends."

"Well, we used to be best friends."

He sucked in a breath.

"Friends. We're...friends."

Again, the woman paused to study him. Mike's hands stiffened under their binds and closed
into as tight of fists possible. He could feel his own fingernails digging into the skin of his
palms, but he didn't release any pressure until the woman simply nodded.

"Very well, then. That's all I'll be needing from you, Mr. Wheeler."

And just like that, Mike watched with an expression of pure disbelief as the woman stood and
left him alone once again.

What in the actual fuck?

<---------->

"Sir, the boy's fallen unconsious, should we-"

Sullivan put a hand up toward the scientist.

"Wait."
The worker frowned and looked back down at the young teenager in the tank. The boy's
hands were limp in where they were attached to the handles of the lift, his face unmoving and
eyes sealed shut beneath the glass of his helmet. He almost appeared dead, and that idea
would have been believed if his vitals didn't say otherwise.

"But he's-" the scientist started, only to be once again shut down.

"Wait."

They obeyed, waiting for a solid five more minutes. After time passed and nothing seemed to
change in the boy's state, Lt. Sullivan finally ordered the lift out. Will's helmet was taken off,
and his wrists were untied. After explaining that the boy likely passed out due to his body
being constantly submerged and taken out of the tank, and he was possibly waterlogged from
the overextension of the tests. Even after telling that to the Colonel, he didn't seem to care.

"Just get him awake and quick as possible. I don't care how hurt the boy is, we need him to
get to the girl."

"Yes sir."

With that, Will was hauled off, and Sullivan glared at his unconsious body until he was out of
the room.

When he was gone, a woman approached him. Agent Rebecca Polar.

Sullivan turned to meet her.

"Did you get anything from the Franco boy?"

The woman smirked, which relieved Sullivan, as it meant that she indeed did have
something.

"Yes. And I believe it may help in getting the boy to cooperate."

Sullivan's head tilted to the side.

"Do tell."

<---------->

Will was surrounded in darkness.

It was as if he were trapped in some sort of abyss, or a black hole with nothing but him
inside. His feet were bare, letting him feel the shallow floor of water taking up the pit below,
while the rest of him wore the same thing he did throughout the painful hours of being
basically tortured.
"Anything?"

"No."

"Again."

"This time?"

"No."

"Go back."

"Well?"

"I'm telling you this isn't going to work. I don't-"

"Try again."

"Wait, no-"

Will flinched, letting out a small whimper that suddenly grew ten times its original sound. It
bounced off the invisible walls of the darkness around him, scaring him and sending him
falling to the floor in fear. The water splashed beneath him as he landed, and sploshed as he
stumbled back up and started to run.

"Help me! Somebody help," he screamed. He didn't care who, at this point, only knowing
that he couldn't stand being alone anymore.

Not to mention it was cold -- he likes it cold.

So, so cold...

"Help! Let me out!"

His screams only reverberated back at him, along with the splashing of the water as he ran
through it. He became well aware he was sobbing as he ran, but couldn't find it in himself to
care. His movements were growing more aimless and desperate.

"Get me out of here! Mom! Mom!"

It was almost worse than the Upside Down, if he were honest. At least there he could see
things, and he had places to go and things to live on. Here, there was simply nothing but
water and emptiness. Loneliness. A death-like feeling. It was absolutely terrifying knowing
he was by himself in some place so unknown and just nightmarish.

"Mom! Mom! M-Mike! Jona-Jonathan! Anybody! Help me!"

Somewhere in the distance, he heard a clock. It ticked and clattered, before giving a solid
four chimes out into the nothing air. As soon as the final chime rang out, it silences again.
And still, Will kept running.
"El! El! Mom! Argyle! Somebody please-"

"Will? Will!"

Will stopped abruptly with a startled cry.

"Will! Where are you?"

"El?" He turned, letting out yet another scream (this time of pure solace and comfort) when
he spotted a familiar teenage girl behind him. Again, he called her name.

She caught sight of him soon enough and repeated a similar action with his own name, and
they both started sprinting for each other.

"Will!"

"El! El, help me!"

"I'm coming, Will! I'm right here, I'm right-"

Their hands were only inches away from grasping each other.

Then the darkness disapeared, El with it, and Will woke up.

<---------->

"No! No! I'm not doing it again! I'm not doing it again!"

Jonathan, who's leg had been pulsing against the floor, instantly froze at the voice outside his
door.

"I won't! I won't! I won't! Stop! Let me go!"

"Will!" He screamed out. He didn't really expect an answer, but was surprised when he
indeed heard Will cry, "Jonathan? Jonathan, help me!"

His protective old brother mode kicked in high gear as his brother's hurting begs leaked in
through the door. He used all of his strength to try and rip away the ropes at his limbs, yelling
back at the bodiless voice and shaking the chair around. But the ties just wouldn't let up.

"Jonathan! Help me! I don't want to do it again! Please! Jonathan!"

"Will! Will! I'm trying! Will!"

But it was no use.

 Jonathan ended up pushing himself backward and landed himself on his back, legs still stuck
to the chair legs, now above him.

He cried as Will's voice eventually grew far and dissapeared completely.

He failed. Jonathan failed.

Chapter End Notes

Pain.

:)
 The Pain Continues
Chapter Summary

Will's tired and wants this all to stop, but he's willing to do anything to keep Mike safe.

Chapter Notes

The story has returned...after, like, a million years :)

Anyway, this wasn't beta'd, so sorry for any errors lol.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Will's hands, while soaked in piles of dirty, stubborn sweat, clung tight and firm to the metal
outside the elevator. At this point, he didn't even care what they did to him. He just couldn't
go back under!

"I won't! I'm done! Stop it! I won't do it!"

As far as the government psychos knew, Will hadn't found anything at this point. And that
was actually true -- at least, in some way. He wasn't sure if seeing El before had been nothing
but a dream brought up through his worn and water-wasted mind, or if she'd actually been
there. Either way he wasn't going to risk telling these people. It wouldn't be helpful for
anyone anyways.

Eventually, Lt. Sullivan seemed to finally give in. The man snapped his fingers, which got the
agents trying to push the teenager into the elevator to release their hold. All of his energy was
suddenly sucked away with their hands, and in less than a second he found his elbows
catching the rest of his body on the cold tile floor below. Water still surrounded the hole
pierced through the center of the rafters, and the slimy aqua tank below taunted him with its
mere existence below his eyes.

Will waited a moment to let his breathing smooth a bit before looking up. His bangs clung to
his reddened face, making it difficult to see through the curtain to view the evil man above
him. Nevertheless, he forced his eyes to glare as hard as they could, even though he knew
they could see right through the facade. From what he could see, Sullivan didn't seem at all
displeased as he had been the past who-knows-how-many trials he'd been forced through. In
fact, he almost looked smug. That wasn't good. That really wasn't good.
"I'm...I'm never gonna...s-see her," Will huffed out. His throat sliced into itself with the
simple action and burned through the inner flesh and bone. Nevertheless, he forced himself to
continue through a scratchy voice. "This is...This is pointless. You're never gonna...gonna..."
his words broke off in a trail of violent coughs and trembles. His chest flared up into a sharp
flame with this and had him straining for air.

It hurts! It hurts! It hurts!

"I won't rest until I have results, Mr. Byers. Whatever it takes."

Through tears, Will's head twisted upward again.

"Even...Even kidnapping and torturing kids?"

"Unfortunately for you, four lives to means nothing compared to the millions that could
suffer at your sister's hand."

Anger ignited alongside the forest fire. Will growled.

"I told you! She-She's not a threat!"

Sullivan sighed, shaking his head as if to show sadness, but portraying transparent guilt. "I
wish you didn't have to make things so difficult for us, Will. I really, really do." Somewhere
off to the side, below the rafters, Will could hear a door opening, and footsteps coming in.
"Maybe this will get you to cooperate."

To Will's horror, before the new footsteps even started to make their way up the stairs to the
above platform, a familiar voice caught in his ears.

"Let me go! Where is he? Where's Will? Let me go you sick fucks! Leave us alone!"

"No..." It was meant as a whisper, but it left through his own breath.

A pair of black-suited agents came climbing up the steps, appearing to Will as they came
closer. Between both of them, a ratty nest of raven-black hair and dirty and torn clothes was
dragged at their hands. Mike Wheeler continued to flail around desperately in their grips, but
even Will could tell he was wearing himself out by just screaming. It was only then that he
realized this was the first time he'd seen him since they'd been captured.

And, in the nicest way possible, his friend looked like complete horse shit.

"I swear to God I'm going to fucking kill you if you don't let me-"

Mike stopped, his eyes meeting Will's. The pure rage that had been fueling him visibly
dissipated right then and there. In its place, fear clutched at his facial features.

"Will!" He cried, trying to lunge forward. But the hands holding his arms kept him from
getting anywhere near the tired boy on the floor. "Will! Are you okay? What the hell have
they been doing?"
The whole situation in and of itself was terrifying. Will and those he cared about were stuck
in the clutches of a bunch of evil government people, all of whom seemed to have the strong
will for not stopping at anything to get to the Upside Down and El. They'd been separated for
God knows how long, all back in Hawkins in the abandoned lab that started this whole thing,
with Will being relentlessly used to try and contact the alternate dimension laying hidden
under their very feet. There was pain, fear, and just overall exhaustion from all that had
happened in the past few years, let alone this one week!

That was all frightening already. But in all the years they'd ever known each other, Will could
only recall ever seeing Mike cry once -- two years ago, when he'd been possessed by the
Mind Flayer, back in that stupid disguised shed, as he reminded Will of the day they'd met all
the way back in kindergarten.

That had been the only time he'd ever seen his best friend break down. Until now.

Mike was struggling hard against the hands holding him back. He was screaming, shouting,
sobbing. Will could see the small reflections of light flickering from his cheeks and dropping
to the ground to mix with the puddles below. It was just so...un-Mike...it was just so wrong!
This wasn't the Mike Will knew and it was absolutely horrifying.

"Mike," he finally found it in himself to say. It could've been minutes, hours, or days since
Mike had been brought in, and Will wouldn't have realized it.

"Let us go! What are you doing to him? Let us go!"

"Michael," Sullivan spoke, though Mike's screaming made it a muffled jumble of sound.

"What have you done? Why are you doing this? Let us go!"

"Michael," Sullivan repeated, this time louder.

Mike didn't stop.

"Fuck you! You sick fucking bastard! Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you!"

SMACK!

The screaming cut to a sudden halt. Mike's face flew sideways from the force of the violent
blow.

Will's eyes strained with wide terror.

"Mike!"

Sullivan pulled his hand back, shaking it slightly as if it had hurt him -- it better have -
- before composing himself again. "That's better," he said. Will watched from the floor
helplessly while Mike stayed frozen where he was. A bright red mark illuminated the freckles
of his cheek and throbbed sporadically. It hadn't even been thirty seconds and Will could
practically already see bruising setting in. "I'm sorry about that, Michael, but I can't
communicate with either of you if you can't hear me," Sullivan continued. He spoke as if he
hadn't just backhanded a teenager, and it only fueled the anger in Will.

Mike eventually broke from his stupor, clearly shocked from the act of abuse. But he washed
the fear from his eyes (the emotion only Will could see) before he looked back at at the
Lieutenant with a stone-cold glare. However, he made no move to speak.

"I'm glad you understand. Now, I'm sorry it had to come to this, Mr. Wheeler, but I'm afraid
you've become useless to me."

Will's heart froze mid-beat when a gun was pulled from Sullivan's belt. The man proceeded
to cock it and point it as Mike's head.

"No! No! Mike!"

Will made to push himself up in an adrenaline filled haze. He barely managed to get to his
feet before arms were grabbing him and holding him back from stopping the murder getting
ready to happen.

Sullivan's finger slid down to the trigger, slowly starting to pull back.

"America thanks you for your sacrifice, Michael."

Mike slammed his eyes shut, seemingly ready to embrace the inevitable. But Will wouldn't
have that.

"Wait! Wait! I'll do it! Damn it, I'll fucking do it! Don't shoot him, please! I'll keep doing it, I
swear to God!"

To his relief, Sullivan's finger paused mid-push. His eyes didn't leave the target in front of
him, but his voice switched to go towards Will.

"You won't protest further if we keep this boy alive?"

Will didn't hesitate to nod.

"I won't! Just don't kill him, please!"

His voice broke on the last word, strangled by fear and anger curled all into one messy ball.
In his head, the image of Mike's head blowing open and his body falling backward spiraled
endlessly. He'd be damned if he allowed Sullivan to make that become reality.

Mike, on the other hand, eyes now open and looking at Will as if he'd just claimed to be a
ghost, didn't seem to stand on the same wavelength.

"Will, no, you can't let them keep hurting you. Don't do it!"

The boy shook his head. "Mike, I have to. I'm not going to let them kill you!"

"You can't let them hurt you!"

 "Very well then, Byers," Sullivan broke in. He pulled his gun back, flipping the safety back
on and slipping it back where it was before at his side. He looked up at the people holding
Mike hostage and nodded. "Keep him here. We need to make sure he keeps to his word."

Mike started cussing the people out as he was dragged back and forced onto his knees. The
agents pulled his arms behind his back and between one of the bars of the safety fence.
Sullivan tossed them a pair of handcuffs, which were swiftly locked onto the paler boy's
wrists to hold him in place. As they walked away, Mike pulled against his binds and started
shouting again.

"Will, no! Leave him alone! Don't do this! Will! Will!"

This time, Will didn't fight back. He let himself be pushed back into the elevator. He let them
secure the helmet over his head and attach the wires to his chest. Through the glass of his
helmet, he could see Mike struggling, and his heart clenched at the sight.

I couldn't let him die, he reminded himself. I can't let him get hurt because of me.

His hands wrapped around the bars next to him and he closed his eyes.

He could barely hear Mike's desperate voice as the water swallowed his body once more.

Chapter End Notes

Gay angst + Life threatening whump = Gay sadness

Just some simple math.

 011 and 001
Chapter Summary

El goes through the Upside Down and finds some crazy shit.

Chapter Notes

I sincerely apologize for the wait...the, like, month long one that y'all didn't deserve.

But I'm back from months of depression and difficulty and shit, and I've got this late
Christmas present for you!

It wasn’t hard to figure out where exactly she was.

After spending an uncountable amount of time in a panic, El eventually forced herself to

calm down. She was alone, stuck in the Upside Down, in the middle of nowhere. All of the
heat of the Nevada desert and the thick mush of sand had changed – now the air was cold, so
cold, and there was rotting soil and forestry on the ground. Slimy tendrils snaked their way
around the foggy floor, and an eerie darkness took up the atmosphere around her. In the
distance, behind the darkened canopy of leaves and discolored underbrush, shrieking
thundered and shook the skies. The urge to cower and hope for it to all just go away was
strong with every one of El’s senses spiraling in a million different directions.

But she forced herself to stay up on her feet. If calling after all of her friends wasn’t going to
work, then she might as well get to searching for a way out – or the others if they’d somehow
managed to get trapped in the other dimension, too. Well, preferably both.

It ended up being a good thing, though, as it wasn’t long after her beginning to trek through
the forest, she found a familiar area.

A wired fence came through an opening up ahead, and the closer she came to it the longer
and wider it seemed to expand outward. The same grotesque vinery littering the floor and
trees also interviewed through the wall of rusted metal wiring like weeds. The undergrowth
advanced on the other side of the fence, though the trees were much more spaced out,
allowing a formidable shadow of a building to be in view.

El stopped just short of the fence and peered through the holes of the fence wires. She knew
this place, almost all too well.
To her right, a sign void of color had the words, RESTRICTED AREA , painted in its face.

A burst of chills spiraled through her body as she recalled the recently acquired memories
she’d repressed. Peter’s voice, his false kindness, the kids’ mutilated corpses, Peter
brutalizing each and every one of them without any mercy…

“Eleven…”

The deep, spiney voice coursed through her as if thick poison in her bloodstream. Her head
spun back as if expecting to see someone behind her. But there was no one in sight.

Sucking in a breath, she turned and began to walk away from the laboratory – deciding to
make her way towards where she knew Mike’s house was.

Then an unexpected voice caught her by surprise.

“Anybody! Help me!”

Eleven gasped and looked back at the lab.

“Will?”

Using her rebirthed abilities, she tore the fence ahead of her in two. It crippled away easily,
screeching as each side was folded over to create a space for her to enter. And she did so with
feet pounding against the ground.

She could’ve sworn she heard some sort of strange ticking, like the old grandfather clock that
Joyce had bought from the Goodwill down the street. But its ringing faded fast after four
separate chimes that quickly drifted back into quiet. El ran as fast as she could toward the
source, toward where she heard her brother’s pleading voice, toward Hawkins Lab.

“El! El! Mom! Argyle! Somebody please-”

“Will?” She called after him. His voice was growing closer as she drew to the building’s
entrance. “Will!” Her hands then flew forward and knocked the aging glass doors off their
hinges and she continued inside.

“Will! Where are you?”

“El?”

How did he get here, too? She briefly wondered, though pushed the thought away. Will was
in trouble, and while a small part of her was grateful she suddenly wasn’t alone, on the other
hand she was worried and fearful for his safety. She turned a corner and stopped, eyes
widening as she caught sight of Will down the next hallway.

“Will?”

From where she stood, she could tell he wasn’t okay – in fact, he looked…different than
when she’d last seen him, which unfortunately had only been briefly before she awoke in the
Upside Down. His plaid shirt was gone, along with his pants, and replaced with a familiar
jumper and vest she knew all too well, though unlike her own, it was fit just right for him,
with longer pants and actual sleeves.

Before her mind could truly even catch up, she started to sprint.

“Will!”

“El! El, help me!”

The terror in his voice was unlike anything she’d ever heard from him, even when she’d first
talked to him four years ago in Castle Byers as he lay cold and sick and alone, begging for
help.

“I’m coming, Will! I’m right here, I’m right-”

Just as their hands were inches from contact, Will suddenly vanished, and El tripped over air
and just barely managed to catch her balance. She let out a shocked gasp and started spinning
around, desperate for any sign of him. But he’d completely disappeared.

“Will!”

Where did he go? What just happened? Why was he wearing…why was he so…

Confusion weighed heavily on her shoulders as she sagged onto her knees. The air only
seemed to sprout colder and driftier as the darkness of the Upside Down truly crowded the
lone figure. As soon as she hit the tiles, sobs broke from her lips. No amount of hugging her
own self could possibly amount to the comfort and security she was currently longing for in
that moment.

The last few days had been mountainous on her mind and body, and it just felt like the
universe wasn’t going to let it go. Like she was made to experience endless pain. From
Angela, to Papa, to Peter, to Mike, to Will, to…to everyone. Everything.

The lab, the kids, the memories, the roller skate, the rink, the smoothie, the lab, her powers,
the Upside Down.

Through her cries, a violent scream tore through her throat.

When was this going to end?

“Why?” She sniffled to no one. She was alone, after all. “Why me?”

“Because you chose the wrong side.”

And yet again, that voice installed discomfort in her bones. Her eyes searched the hall for a
body that wasn’t there; a shadow, she knew, to be the very person she’d entrapped here years
ago. Now he was haunting her. She had to get out.
It took some time, but she eventually pushed herself to her feet and forced the tears away.
With clearer eyes, she decided to look around the lab – maybe Will was somewhere else? Or
maybe…

An idea sprung to her, though she decided against it. Going into the void while alone in the
Upside Down was dangerous, especially with Peter lurking around somewhere. Anything
could happen with her inside, and it was too big of a risk. She’d have to figure another way.

The first place she found herself was an office. A lone desk was pierced by the normal
alternate-dimensional vegetation. A computer was layered in dust, and the walls were gray
with deterioration. So, nothing that could do her any good, great. And no Will.

Her next destination was what appeared to be a meeting room. A lonely long oval table sat in
the center of the room, windows clouded with tendrils, walls dark with grime. But along the
table were stacks of pages she couldn’t help but feel curiosity spike for. El sat down in one of
the office chairs and started to pick through the paper. A few were unlabeled or unfinished
files that she couldn’t understand, while others were…well, much more legible to the
teenager, but no less confusing.

One such page was titled Proposal to Initiate Search For 001 in the top left corner.

Even though she’d found out the reason for all of those trials in the void while in the hands of
NINA, she still felt unsettled with this. After everything that had happened with Peter (or…
well, One, she supposed) Papa still used her. Whatever he’d tried to claim or insist, she knew
he never really cared about her, and she would always hate him, even in death.

Her eyes briefly scanned the page detailing what she’d been forced to go through, before
setting it aside and going through the other stacks along the table. Most of it was strange
graphs and data, others boring information she didn’t care for.

It wasn’t until she found a manilla folder that her interest quickly peaked again.

001 – Henry Creel

Henry? Wasn’t his name…Peter?

She opened the file and started to flip through its contents, first finding a photo of what was
seemingly him as a boy, and another with the one she remembered prior to banishing him to
the Upside Down.

Subject: #1

Label: 001
Name: Henry Creel (now converted to Peter Ballard)

Description: Responsible for the deaths of mother, Virginia Creel, and sister, Alice Creel in
the year 1959, age 12. Both victims were found with contorted limbs and missing eyes.
Matter of death through the unique telepathic ability of Henry (change: Peter). Father
blamed and arrested for the murders. Henry (change: Peter) fell into a mysterious
comatose state post committing murders. Intercepted by Dr. Martin Brenner in Hawkins
Hospital.

El’s stomach twisted as she read. How could someone…why would someone kill their own
family? And so young? The thought of doing such a thing to the people she loved was
disgusting and horrifying.

But she couldn’t help but wonder…would she have done just that if she had joined One? If
she’d gone with him that night, joined his side, would she have been made to kill everyone
she cared about?

El distracted herself from the tear-inducing idea by turning the page and going further.

TITLE: 001 TRIAL ONE

SUBJECT: Henry Creel (converted to Peter Ballard)

AUTHOR OF THIS FILE: Dr. Martin Brenner

REPORT: Subject currently remains in a coma. Blood tests have shown a unique structure
of nucleotide sequences, though so far the cause is unknown. Henry’s abilities have so far
included telepathy, of which he’s prone to use through violence. The enzymes within this
fascinating mutation haven’t been affected by any of the subject’s natural bodily enzymes,
nor have the cells’ mutations affected any of the normal bodily functions, including that of
the brain’s. This may lead to the conclusion that these powers have no effects on the boy’s
way of thinking or hostile nature. END REPORT HERE.

El turned the page.

TITLE: 001 TRIAL TWO

SUBJECT: Henry Creel (converted to Peter Ballard)

AUTHOR OF THIS FILE: Dr. Martin Brenner

REPORT: Subject has broken from his unconscious state. Upon waking, several soldiers
and doctors were immediately killed through the subject’s abilities, not unlike the means of
his mother and sister’s deaths. Blood tests have shown no change from TRIAL ONE. After
a cautious talk with the subject, I currently believe that he has no care for what he did to
his loved ones. Sociopathic in nature is the conclusion I’ve come to so far. However, I truly
think we have some sort of connection, as he’s shown no hostile direction toward me. TBC
in further tests. END REPORT HERE.

So she wasn’t the first one to have some kind of “relationship” with Papa. El probably
shouldn’t be as surprised as she actually was, but nevertheless she felt a tinge upset. Even
with what One did to his own family, she couldn’t help but feel empathetic, knowing Papa
had also manipulated and abused him just as much as he had her. Maybe she wasn’t as alone
in her trauma and pain as she thought.

She turned the page again, and was confused when she found that the trial number had
skipped upward, and rather dramatically. Where’d the other ones go?

She read on anyway.

TITLE: 001 TRIAL EIGHTY-FOUR

SUBJECT: Henry Creel (converted to Peter Ballard)

AUTHOR OF THIS FILE: Dr. Martin Brenner

REPORT: I worry about the growing relationship I see between One and Eleven. I believe
he’s trying to turn her against me, and so I’ve resorted to punishment to keep him from
further coercion. The chip installed in his neck has so far functioned just to its intended
purpose, but I hope to come up with upgrades to further disable his abilities. I’d like to
keep him in with the other subjects, but considering what I’ve seen with him and Eleven, I
most likely need to find another place for him. I cannot let go of him or terminate him. His
blood is still very much important to what I’m working on, and where we’re going with our
work. Eleven is the most important of our subjects – she is, as One has unfortunately also
noticed, different from the others. I cannot have him interfering with her any longer. END
REPORT HERE.

El was horrified by what she was reading. She knew Papa had hurt One, she’d even seen it,
but she’d had no idea…was it- was it really her fault? He’d literally tortured him because he
was simply talking to her?

Anger wells up in her, along with disgust and guilt.

She flips the page and frowns when she sees there’s only one slip of paper clipped to a photo
of the gate she’d opened that fateful night – November 6th, 1983.

SUBJECT 001 IS CURRENTLY PRESUMED TO BE TRAPPED IN AN ALTERNATE

SPACE OF TIME AND LAND. UNCLEAR AS TO PARTICULAR WHEREABOUTS –
PROJECT 011 MISSING.

El closed the folder and took a breath.

“Tragic, isn’t it? What the man we called ‘Papa’ did to me? To you? To us?”

El jumped to her feet and clenched her fists, willing for that…that voice to go away! But it
felt as if it were coming from every direction, every which-way so she had no possibility of
escaping it. She was trapped with it, with him.

“I told you, Eleven. You and I…we’re both one in the same. Products of abuse and lies. We’re
victims.”

El shook her head, mere moments away from breaking down, tears already streaking down
her face as she choked back sobs.

“No, no, no…” she hiccupped.

“You can deny it all you want, but it’s the truth. Papa didn’t want us together because he
knew how powerful we both could be and what we could achieve. He lied, and he lied, and he
lied. And isn’t that something you hate?”
El wrapped her fingers through the strands of her hair and tugged as if it would tear out the
voice in her head. The deep, dark, evil voice that she wanted gone. No matter how hard she
tried, though, her powers could do nothing against the invisible force.

“I’m giving you another chance, Eleven. You can join me at my side, finish what we started,
and destroy Hawkins for everything it’s done to us. Hurt Papa the way he hurt-”

“Papa is dead!” El screamed. In an instant, the voice cut off and she felt the tension that had
surrounded her release and fall away. Her legs quivered to the point she had to use the wall
behind her to keep on her feet.

The eerie ambience of the Upside Down returned to her senses with the distant screeching,
violently chill winds, and lonely and empty space to remind her of her isolation. No Mike, no
Will, no Joyce, no Jonathan…no, just her. Her and wherever One – Henry? Peter? – had
gone. She hoped that for the time being he’d stay away, that her news had thrown him for
enough of a loop to leave her alone for at least a little while longer.

Shakily, she sleeved away the small bouts of tears from her face. With One now at bay, she
needed to take advantage of the time she was just given.

And so, she quickly sped out of the meeting room and down the sulky hallway towards the
one room she’d purposely been avoiding.

The stairway was just as dark and solemn in atmosphere as the rest of the building. She
cautiously stepped up through the puzzle of twisting snakes spiraled throughout. Where there
wasn’t a slow-moving tendril, there was mold the discoloration of soiled vomit, which in and
of itself was dangerous, as she quickly found out upon stepping on it and nearly falling to her
demise as the stair that was crumpled beneath her weight. Because of this, she was forced to
race her way up as every stair she stepped on broke away, just barely managing to make it to
the fourth floor as the entire railing was inevitably deteriorated by the lack of a staircase. The
vines all seemed to cry shrilly as they lost their platforms and were brought down with them.

Breathing heavily, a heavy stone rolled down her throat.

“Bitchin’,” she muttered. She turned and continued through the metal door.

A few hallways and doors later and she found herself in a small laboratory. Unattended and
abandoned binders, folders, and papers were scattered about the room alongside a multitude
of vials and mysterious substances that were blanketed in dust and grime. Through the
window was a familiar sight; below, catwalks leading every-which-way created several paths
connected to a large tank and console. The water there should be in the glass container was
instead dark green and slimy – quite frankly, she didn’t want to know what that was.

But what she found herself most focused on, outside of the painful memories of times spent
within this room on the other side of the gate, was the long scar running along the wall from
top to bottom. The sealed gateway between worlds, the one she’d closed herself.

There was a small temptation to reopen it. She definitely could, it wouldn’t be too difficult
since her past of opening and closing portals was quite vast and wide. Doing that would
allow her to travel back to the real world faster.

But the risk of doing so would be too high. What if One escaped before she could close it
again? What if the Demogorgan or Demodogs did? So many were already dead because of
her…she couldn’t let anyone else die at her fault.

She turned away from the window to scan through the documents littered about one of the
countertops. Most were graphs she couldn’t understand. One, however, wasn’t, and she was
pretty intrigued upon looking at it.

FILE 717 – CASE 35

EXAMINATION: 011 [Eleven]

EXAMINATOR: Dr. Martin Brenner.

SECTOR: N/A

VARIABLE #1: The TEST SUBJECT herself.

VARIABLE #2: The CAT.

EXPECTED OUTCOME: SUBJECT should quickly and swiftly terminate the CAT
through the means of twisting the parts of each leg, breaking the jaw, and crushing the
eyes.

TRUE OUTCOME: SUBJECT failed to follow through with the trial. CAT was left alive.

El remembered when they’d tried to get her to kill the animal. While it had shown hostility
towards her behind the bars of its cage, the idea of harming the creature was frightening. She
just couldn’t find it in herself to do it. At the time, Papa’s look of disappointment had
stimulated guilt and failure in herself. But as of the present time, she couldn’t care less about
what he thought. Not that it mattered since he was dead now.

The girl put the paper down and walked onward, heading towards a thin metal door with
“STOP” written in big, bold letters. While here it appeared dark and void of any life, she was
pretty sure back in the real world it was an illuminative red. Most exit signs, she knew, were
that way, though this wasn’t one of them.
It wasn’t hard to ignore what the sign read – what did it matter to her? She pushed through
the door and found herself on a metal staircase that led her down to the catwalk. Said
scaffolding was interrupted by an intersection, to which she turned right and headed down to
the bottom floor of the facility. Her feet brought her, first, to the wall’s scar. Where the tiles
were interrupted was a soft and easy-to-miss red glow. It had to be whatever was left of the
opening between the two worlds, the pathway that connected them.

Her fingers gently ran over the seam. A pulse beated against the tips of them like a rapid
heartbeat. And it felt…strange, not in a bad way nor a good one.

Just beyond this was her home. It was so close…but yet it was too far away.

She could feel her powers blooming within the wrist of her arm and the palm of her hand.
Electricity stuttered in her veins as it dared to trail to her fingertips and connect with the
rugged line. Ever so slowly, a small hole started to tear in the scar, bleeding out a brighter red
light. It slowly expanded within the wall, until it was about the size of El’s hand.

For a moment, she nearly pushed it through the opening. Then she thought better of it.

She pulled her hand away, and in a few moments, had the opening closing up once more until
there was no sign it had ever been ruptured. The seam remained glowing softly, and nothing
could pass through it.

She had to find another way.

El took a step back and decided that she needed to get to Hawkins. Both for resources and
maybe some sort of way out, something that wasn’t ripping apart the space time continuum.

The girl stepped back, ready to do just that, when suddenly, a voice reached her ears.

“Bastards! Let…out…why are you…just kids…”

Wait, was that…?

No, it couldn’t be. If Will wasn’t here, then there was no way he could be. But then where
was his voice coming from?

“Mike?” she whispered softly. She followed the voice, which was muffled yet audible enough
to understand certain syllables and words. As she drew nearer to the sound, though, her
boyfriend’s voice became all the clearer and better to understand, until there were just a few
spaces between each word that she couldn’t receive.

“You mother…-ing psychos! He’s…hurt…stop this! Just…-op it! Use me…-ead…me!”

El glanced up, realizing where his voice was coming from. She quickly made her way up the
stairwell and back up onto the scaffolding, where voices were growing ever louder and
clearer. But looking around, there was nobody in sight. Not one person, including her
boyfriend.

“Mike?” she called. Nothing. She paced closer towards the water tank she’d been purposely
avoiding all this time, where she’d heard his voice in the first place. “Mike! Mike!”

She could hear him again. He sounded so close!

“Mike!”

“He doesn’t…-erve this! You’re hurt…him, and for…-at?”

“Mike! Mike, where are you? Mike!”

She stopped, just mere feet away from the tank now, and right by the familiar and safe voice
she knew so well.

But he wasn’t there.

“She’s not dangerous! If anything, you should be grateful she’d been doing YOUR job all
these years! She’s kept Hawkins safer than-than-than you sick fucks ever could,” Mike’s voice
spat disgustedly.

El couldn’t understand. Where was he?

Then another voice, one she didn’t know nor recognized at all, appeared from somewhere in
front of her. But like Mike’s, this man seemed invisible.

“Just because she protects your town a few times doesn’t make her any less of a threat to the
rest of the world, Mr. Wheeler. If she should turn on you, turn on everyone, then humanity
may be as good as dead. And we have very good reason to believe she may just be doing
that.”
“She would never,” Mike growled. “Even-Even if she is in the Upside Down, she-she just got
her powers back! They-They…There’s no way she could even…” he paused, trailing off. But
nevertheless, he sounded firm in his belief.

It was then that El understood what was going on. Mike was at Hawkin’s lab, but not…not
the Upside Down Hawkins lab. No, he had to be in the real world one, and maybe everyone
else was, too! Jonathan, Argyle, Will…they’d been captured by the bad men, and the only
connection she now had was a vague thread that had her capable of hearing them, but,
apparently, only that much. Mike couldn’t hear her.

And…it actually made sense. It made so much sense! Why Will had appeared and vanished,
why he’d been wearing the vest and suit. It was because they were trying to use him to find
her.

They knew where she was, and they were hurting those she loved to do it.

And suddenly, a boiling anger began to emerge within her.

“You don’t know that, do you, Michael?” the bad man’s voice said. “One way or another, by
any means necessary, I have been ordered to neutralize a very serious threat. You can’t stop
me from doing so.”

A growling spark was sprouting through El. At her sides, her fists clenched, and the slimy
substance within the tank sputtered without visible force. But she didn’t even notice.

“Maybe not. But she can, and she will.”

“Your blind trust in your friend is…admirable, but also really, really ignorant.”

The glass window of the lab shattered into millions of pieces, the fragments falling all along
the catwalk and floor below it. The vines all hissed and fell away as they were rained on and
sliced by the pieces.

“What the hell was that!” The bad man shouted suddenly.
“I don’t know, sir! We’re picking up an alternate invisible force!”

El flicked her wrist, resulting in the seemingly dead control panel crunching inward on itself.
The discolored buttons and switches all condensed and snapped until the entire thing was
nothing but a flat piece of metal.

“Sir, we’ve lost connection! The-The controls just stopped working, I don’t know-”

“Get them back online!”

“Sir, I think we’re losing him!”

El let out a viscous scream that shattered her own ears, as well as any remaining solid glass
piece that was around.

“Get the boy out, now!”

“Will! Will!”

“Haul him up.”

“Will!”

El gasped as she finally broke out of her trance.

And proceeded to lose consciousness.

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