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Chapter Text

November 12, 1983

HAWKINS MIDDLE SCHOOL, HAWKINS INDIANA

Agents. Guns. Papa. Blood. The Demogorgon. Screaming. Unconsciousness.....

Eleven awoke with a gasp, a cough, and a sputter while lying on her back in the dimensional Upside Down. Inky black tendrils trailed all around her, along the walls of the middle school classroom, and framing the dark mirror world of the one she remembered for too brief of a time. It wasn't that long ago she had been in it. Running for her life with her newfound friends, killing the bad men, falling faint to the floor of the school, waking up to Papa's hands gripping her face and trying to convince her to come 'home' but she rejected him, and crying out to Mike...

Mike. 

She would die for him and she almost did. Mike... who meant Eggos, warm blankets, walkie-talkies, toys, and smiles. Fun and danger. She felt so far away from all that now. 

She wearily got up, gathering her balance, and walked out into the school hallways feeling slightly sick.  

Now there was just only the unnerving coldness and foreboding uncertainty. Mike wasn't here and his friends weren't either. Was Will still trapped the same dimension that she was in now? Maybe it was too late, as she had seen with the other girl that had glasses...Barb. She hoped Will was okay, but she was too weak to use her powers now and find him again. 

Even Papa was gone. The monster was gone. Everyone was gone but her. Eleven broke into a run down all the hallways, screaming desperately for Mike. He had to be somewhere, but all she saw was more of the same tendrils and empty space. She stopped to catch her breath, despair threatening to take its hold, until a sudden noise distracted her. Disembodied crackly male voices, as if perhaps over a radio or walkie-talkie. Eleven turned her head and saw a pulsing red light up ahead in the distance at the end of the hallway. She moved towards it like a moth to a flame until she was close enough to see that it was a circular portal of sorts on the wall, the opening covered by a stretched sinewy substance. She stared through the cloudy bright red window and two interweaving flashes of light crisscrossed across her field of view. Flashlights from the normal world. A dark silhouette approached closer and a man's voice had her jumping back and pressing her body up against the wall, out of sight. The male voices faded away and Eleven looked back at the portal, a guttural sound emulating seemingly from it. It looked almost large enough to push through. Hesitant, she moved towards it and put her hand through its ooze, poking her fingers through and out into the normal version of the school. She withdrew her hand that was now covered in slime before realizing she needed to use her power to break it more open. Concentrating like she had many times before and pushing, pushing so hard with her mind, she expanded the opening big enough to climb into.

It was an extremely wet and gooey proverbial womb that she birthed herself out of onto the floor of Hawkins Middle with a groan and a gasp.  

"Eleven?" 

His low voice made her start and she looked up in the direction of it with shocked wide eyes. 

Papa. 

He was standing across the hall, bent over and supporting himself against the wall, his dark eyes fixed on her, watching her. As if he had been waiting for her all along, knowing she'd find her way out at this exact moment.

Papa was alive. Blood dripped down from his lined face, running off his larger nose, and onto the floor with a steady splattering. It came from a long gash across half his face. His pristine white hair was ruffled, his usually pristine suit scuffed and his black tie swung out of place. His appearance looked out of character. Papa had always looked perfect, as long as she could remember. 

"Pa-papa?" she choked out in disbelief. He should be gone. She saw the monster tackle him to the floor, on top of his body, and its fatal open flowering face full of sharp teeth inches from his own. 

Brenner took a shaky breath and wiped his bloody face with his white sleeve before proceeding to speak with labored breath and his voice hushed, almost strained.

"It's gone now, Eleven. You destroyed it. You did very, very well. I'm so proud of you. No one else is going to get hurt now." 

Eleven stared at him, still unbelieving he was standing in front of her, but she didn't know how to ask why and what happened. So she looked away from him and around the hallway. 

Surely if Papa survived, the others did too? Where were the others? Where was Mike? Back in the classroom she remembered throwing Mike off of her to protect him. Everyone was screaming, lights flickering, the boys trying to help her defeat the monster. She had  defeated it, throwing herself in the Upside Down in the process of killing the Demogorgon so that it couldn't get her friends.   

"Mike!" she called out. "Mike!"

"Mike!?" 

Her voice echoed throughout the halls, ringing back at her with a suffocating silence. 

"Eleven, I'm sorry..." Brenner started to say. 

She quickly glanced back to him, her chest rising and falling.  

"Where is Mike? Friends?"

"They're gone. I'm afraid you won't be seeing them again, Eleven."

He said it like it was just a plain statement, like that explained everything, and only showing a slight hint of remorse in his tone. 

Gone?

No. no. no. That wasn't possible. Eleven took off down the hallway before Papa could stop her, running to find them... anything, even if it was their dead bodies.

Nothing.

She didn't understand. Had the bad men killed them? Was this all in her head, a vivid nightmare? She screamed for Mike until her voice was hoarse. 

"Eleven, we need to leave." Papa suddenly came up behind her, a slight limp to his step. He put his hands strongly on her shoulders. She flinched at his touch and tried to pull away. 

"Where are they?!" she yelled at his placid face. 

He didn't answer and looked down with a grim expression. 

No, her friends couldn't be gone. This had to be a lie. Papa lied. He always had lied. He made her believe that she was the monster and she had believed the lie. Even that very word had a lie in it, so why should she ever believe him again?

Her friends were still in the school somewhere, they had to be. But she looked everywhere and no one was there except her and Papa. Not even any of the other bad men remained in her sight. She felt the feeling of hopelessness again threatening to consume her raw and she racked a sob. 

"Let's go, Eleven," Papa said in a tone he considered gentle. 

"There's some people waiting outside for us. I believe you know them. Now let's go, okay?"

Eleven's heart leapt in her chest. Who would be there? Will's mom? The police man? They were still alive. Were they waiting for her? 

She looked at Papa and tentatively stepped forward to him, knowing she had no choice but to trust him if she wanted to leave at all. She couldn't run anymore. Her powers were exhausted and she was fighting fatigue again, so she let him scoop her up in his arms. One last time and maybe she'd find a way out of this.

Brenner took careful plodding steps down the Hawkins halls, slightly staggering with effort. He wasn't in much better shape than her at the moment. He hated the way his legs were shaking and the twinges in his back caused a grimacing twitch to his face. He pushed through his pain however, and took Eleven out the double doors into the crisp and cool November night. She looked around in the darkness, hoping to see at least two familiar faces.

Where were they?  

All her eyes met were the hard, grim faces of a few men in suits standing several feet in front of her and Brenner. The bad men. Papa's agents. She recognized one of them; the lead agent with well-kept brown hair and intense cold eyes boring at her, reminding her dimly of Papa when he was younger before his hair became white. The man had a MP5K military submachine gun hanging at his side and his other hand twitched towards a pistol at his belt. 

"Stand down," Brenner ordered, his voice as hard and clear as he could make it. 

The lead agent relaxed after a beat and glanced to the other men, who looked apprehensive, but also eased slightly. They didn't trust subject 011; they feared and hated her as soldiers often did. 

Eleven wiggled in Dr. Brenner's arms, fear and anger starting to bubble up in her chest with confusion. Papa had lied to her and she had trusted him because she could see no other way out of this. It now looked like no one was there for her, no one that wanted to help her, anyway. She hadn't really escaped after all this time.

Brenner started walking to a black car and she tried to push away from his grasp, the anger growing in her. He lied. No one was there and he was just trying to take her 'home' again, but it wasn't the home she wanted to go back to. No, not after everything that had happened. Had Papa's men with their guns killed everyone she knew? The horrible possibility made her heart thud faster in fright and agony.

Eleven forced up a small amount of fight left in her, so she started kicking and screaming in his grip. And then the agents were upon them to assist Brenner in pushing her, forcing her into the backseat of the sleek car.

No. No. NO!

She screamed, throwing one of the men off with a burst of her powers. He hit the dark concrete with a sickening thump several feet away. 

"That's enough, Eleven." Papa's firm voice. 

Something dark and soft, a cloth, was quickly put around her head from behind and over her eyes. She panicked at the sudden blindness and thrashed, hitting unseen faces and limbs... foolishly feeling without seeing. There was a grunt of pain from a man, and then a stab of sharp pain in her left arm and she cried out. Another tussle of limbs and rough hands and a strange wet feeling dripped on her that felt like blood. Papa's voice sounded very close, but his words were dull and slurring so she couldn't make out his words. His voice entirely was now fading with a rumbling purr of the car's engine...and her consciousness buckled and gave way to unconsciousness that was taking hold for the third time that evening, and her mind drifted away like spores into the unknown blackness. 

Chapter Text

November 13, 1983

  HAWKINS NATIONAL LABORATORY, HAWKINS INDIANA

Eleven was seeing stars. Light, pale yellow stars to be precise.

They were dangling down from white strings above her. She slowly blinked, her eyes refocusing as she groggily came to. There were also colored numbers... one, two, six, eight, nine in red, green, pale blue, purple, and yellow. They were twirling with the stars ever so slightly due to the light air wafting from a ceiling vent. Blinking again, she studied the mobile above her. It seemed so far yet so close, reaching down for her. 

Eleven turned her head to the side to take in her surroundings. Smooth, stark white bars rose up around her like columns on all four sides. She shifted her sore body a little, realizing there was some padding underneath her that felt like her cot, but it wasn't. It was different; thicker and cushioning. It felt more comfortable than her old bed had ever been. But she couldn't remember having rails around her cot before. Confused, she looked past the bars and around the room, but it was so blindingly plain white, her eyes stung in pain. Eleven closed her aching eyes for relief in the comfort of darkness. A sudden click and the sound of a door opening pushed her eyes reluctantly back to blearily open again.  

Dr. Martin Brenner - Papa - walked in with his hands behind his back. His suit and black tie were back to pressed perfection, his coif of white hair neatly styled again. The only reminder last night (was it only last night? She wasn't sure how long she'd been in the blackness), of the monster attack at the school, was gauze wrapped around his head with a large bandage plastered across his face and nose. He half smiled at her.   

"I see someone's awake. Good morning, Eleven."

If she wanted to respond, she couldn't. Her mouth was cotton. 

"You were quite sleepy, weren't you?" 

Brenner walked slowly over to her bed - or whatever it was - and looked down at her. She squirmed uncomfortably under his gaze. His face softened slightly to a surprisingly quite tender expression; a father's face. 

"It's okay...you're home. You're back home," he spoke softly and simply, putting emphasis on 'home'.  

His left hand came around slowly from behind his back and she tensed in dreadful anticipation. But all he was holding was her old stuffed lion. He dangled it down past the bars and in front of her face. Eleven instinctively reached up with her right hand to touch the soft toy, but stopped, dropping her arm back down to her side.

Why was she here? 

She shouldn't be with Papa. Then the memories all came rushing back to her, a dark river called recollection flooding her brain. 

Agents. Guns. Papa. Blood. The Demogorgon. Screaming. Unconsciousness..... 

And then Papa again. Somehow still alive even though he was supposed to be gone. Mike had even told her so. She had seen the monster jump onto him. He took her again under false trust. She hated that she let him fool her. But what choice did she have? 

Kicking and crying to the black car. Blindfolded and sharp pain. Unconsciousness once more.

She realized with a sinking feeling that she was back in the Lab. The cold greenish white walls, heavy doors, the sterile smell of faint bleach and disinfectant. The very place she had desperately escaped from in fear and vowed to never return to. She thought she had it too... that all too brief grasp on freedom, free from Papa and his bad people. 

So why was she now surrounded by white bars and her childhood stuffed lion - that was being held by the very man she was frightened of - nearly touching her nose? 

"You want Mr. Lion, don't you Eleven...hmm?" Papa urged, pushing Lion closer so that the stuffed animal's paws were lightly tapping her face. His fur smelled of Brenner's cologne. 

She blinked again, twisted her head and body away. Maybe there was a way out of this somehow. She couldn't go through this again. Her powers weren't accessible yet, as she was too weak and she'd never been able to hurt Papa anyway. But she would have to if she was to get out of this. 

Brenner sighed and pulled the lion up and away. 

"We'll try this again when you're feeling less grumpy." 

His condescending tone was quiet with disappointment, reminding her of how he was when she had failed a test. Papa never yelled at her, he himself never hurt her, but the dread came up when the less kind arms of the orderlies grabbed her and dragged her away to the Dark Room. She half expected them now, but the room was empty. Papa was walking away to the door, the stuffed lion hanging limply at his side. She had half a mind to call after him. After all, that's what she had spent half of her life doing. She swallowed the bitter memories and watched him open the door and then close it with a soft thud, and she was alone. 

Eleven sat up, her head fuzzy and spots encroaching on the corners of her eyes. She laid back down for a moment before sitting up again more slowly. Her vision slightly clearer, she was able to get a better look around past the rails. It seemed like her old room, but a bit larger. She was in the center of the room and a cot was pushed up against the wall to her right by the door, a small table next to it littered with supplies she couldn't identify. An empty trash can sat on the ground beneath it. She recognized a few of her drawings taped up on the walls around her...ones of her and Papa during experiments and ones from her younger rainbow room days that she didn't remember drawing. The familiar black security camera with its steady blinking red light in the corner was nothing new. Papa was always watching, all her life.

Eleven gripped the rails with her hands and pulled herself up to a standing position. Her legs wavered slightly and she rested her chin on the top bar for balance. It was too tall to climb out of, but perhaps she could break her entrapment with her powers when she felt stronger. She certainly didn't feel up to it now. Slightly defeated, she sank back down onto the soft yet firm padding. 

It took her more than a minute to realize what she was wearing. Her dirty pink dress and Mike's blue jacket were gone, her feet bare and clean. But there was no hospital gown; she was in some type of legless bodysuit with her legs exposed and her arms in short sleeves. The rest of her body fitted snugly in the white, blue dotted buttoned outfit that ended at her crotch. She poked at it, feeling a peculiar, unfamiliar covered padding that was where her underwear should have been. It crinkled slightly when she moved, while hugging her waist and supporting her bottom more than underwear did. She couldn't ever remember wearing something like this before. Was it underwear? It felt different. And what were these clothes? It felt softer and comfortable than her usual hospital gown, but the unfamiliarity puzzled her. Even more frustrating was how to get it off. She fiddled with the buttons, trying figure out how to get out of it. She didn't really want to go naked, especially after learning from Mike and the boys that taking her clothes off in front of them wasn't okay? She was still trying to understand that. All her life Papa (along with nurses, orderlies, and other doctors) didn't react like the boys had when she had to strip down or change into a new gown.

Thinking of it made her realize she didn't ever want to wear a gown ever again.

Right now though, she didn't want to be in this odd garment either that Papa probably had put her into. Maybe he was going to make her do some kind of new test, like when she had to go into The Bath. Tears started to form and she laid down on her back in despair. She had to get out of here, somehow...again. 

Unfortunately, she was feeling another bout of sleepiness overtake her senses. Maybe if she just took a quick nap she'd feel better and stronger when she woke up. Maybe this was all a bad dream and she'd wake up in Mike's blanket fort, away from the Lab and Papa. Eleven smiled, just barely, at that thought. It was enough to sustain a tiny flicker of hope within her and causing her a bit of comfort as she slipped away once more into drowsiness. 

Chapter Text

November 14, 1983 12:10 AM

HAWKINS NATIONAL LABORATORY

A warm wetness woke Eleven up with a start. She uneasily tried to sit up, her crotch feeling very damp and uncomfortable. She smelled funny. Grabbing the bars for support, she pulled herself up to a seated position. Her head felt clearer now and she blinked again, looking down at herself. She was in the same outfit before she fell asleep, but she wasn't sure how long she'd been out. Too long, as she realized with horror she had gone to the bathroom in her clothing. Eleven squirmed in distress, her fingers fumbling again at the buttons on her one-piece, but she couldn't figure out how to remove it. Frustrated, she felt tears push themselves out and slide down her cheeks and onto the soft fabric. Why was she in this thing? Why had she peed herself? Everything happening made no sense. 

Another click of the door caught her attention. Dr. Brenner with his bandaged face walked into her room, his expression unreadable until his eyes met hers and he broke into a slight grin. 

"Are you enjoying your crib, Eleven?"

Crib? 

He came closer, but his smile faded as he looked her over and the scent of urine hit his nose. 

"Oh, Eleven. I think you need a diaper change."

Diaper?

He bent down and unlatched something she hadn't noticed before on the crib and a side of the bars dropped down. Brenner leaned over and pulled her into his arms. She struggled a bit, whimpering in unease. 

"Shh, Papa's going to make it all better," he whispered close to her ear. 

She wiggled more and he tightened his hold. It was fortunate for him that she was still small and underweight for her age, as he could handle her fairly easily. 

Brenner took her over to the cot by the wall. He laid her body down on it and she stared up at his halo of white hair illuminated by the bright lights. 

"Pa-papa?" 

Her voice, weak and small, trying to convey a thousand questions in one name for him. 

He ignored her, focused on undoing the buttons until he came to her diaper. She wrinkled her nose at the smell and tried to move off the cot. Brenner shushed her again and something soft was pressed into her hands. It was her stuffed lion again. His unblinking amber eyes stared at her and she was momentarily distracted while Brenner removed her soiled diaper. 

She winced at the sudden cool air around her crotch. Eleven looked around Lion to watch in fascination as Papa folded the diaper up and tossed it in the trashcan before taking a white cloth and gently wiping her down.

Another strong scent hit her nostrils. Brenner was patting a bit of white powder into the palm his large hand.  

"This will keep you nice and dry, Eleven."

Brenner then rubbed his hands around her crotch and under her bottom. She felt her skin crawling in discomfort. Normally she never had minded Papa's touch (she had never known privacy around him or anyone else when it came time for check-ups and cleaning up), but this felt different. She couldn't remember him ever touching her down there ever before...but then again, she had never wet herself. 

Eleven tried to distract herself with feeling the mane of the lion, wishing this wasn't happening to her, yet not even understanding why it was happening in the first place.  

Brenner then pulled out a clean diaper, putting it up between her legs and securing it in place around her waist. When he was done, he lightly patted her padded area and then his fingers reached upwards to briefly tickle her tummy. She twitched, her feet kicking out, and an involuntarily gasping giggling noise burst out from her. 

Papa chuckled as he buttoned her one-piece back up. He gave her nose a little boop and then helped her sit up on the cot. 

"That wasn't so bad, was it? You're a very good girl, Eleven," Brenner smiled at her. 

She blinked back tears and stared at her Papa. Despite his facial coverings, she could see the same old satisfaction lining up all around his face. He was pleased with her. She should be happy that he was happy. But she wasn't. 

"W-Why?" she choked out, knowing he hated that question. 

Brenner sighed and looked down, a frown creasing between his eyebrows. 

"You're sick, Eleven, but I'm making you better. We just needed to go back several steps. I know this is a bit of a change, but I promise this is for your own good. I'm helping you, as your Papa." 

"No," Eleven said, her voice only wavering a little. She felt a twinge of regret as Papa's eyes darkened. But she didn't want his help. She didn't want to be trapped with him again. Eleven started to push against his body, but he held fast to her, pulling her into a close hug and holding the back of her shaved head firmly against his shoulder. All she could smell now was his too-strong aftershave. He then swiftly stood up with her in his arms and carried her back over to the large crib. 

He set her down in it and latched the side back up in place with another click. Brenner dropped Mr. Lion down into her lap and turned to leave. 

"No, Papa..." Eleven whined. She wanted more information, an explanation. She didn't want to stay in this crib. She wasn't sleepy anymore. Even more, her stomach was beginning to growl in hunger. She couldn't remember the last time she ate. She wished she had Eggos. 

"Papa!" 

Brenner hesitated at the door. 

"You have to trust me, Eleven. You're still sick, but I'm making you better." 

He left then, the door thudding into place and she was left to her own perplexed and aching thoughts. 

Chapter Text

November 14, 1983 7:00 AM 

HNL

Dr. Brenner shook the plastic baby bottle in his hand as he walked down the tiled hallway back to Eleven's room, or rather her nursery...for all practical purposes at the moment.

Age regression.

He wished he'd thought of it years ago.

Number 011. Eleven. His best subject and patient, the only one left under his care, his only child, his daughter.

Daughter.

He was having to think of her more and more as that rather than just a test subject. He knew it was impairing his scientific judgement, but everything they had done in the past had changed. They were going farther than they'd ever gone before and that meant pushing her mind backwards to a different state, an earlier state. He had to keep her from growing too far and rejecting him again. If he'd only done this when she'd been much younger, before her fear took hold of her actions. Before she had run away and found temporary shelter with those foolish boys, acting as though she were a stray dog, a lost puppy. 

Before she had rejected him, her Papa, and named him as 'bad'.

"Bad...Bad. Mike. Mike."

Those words from her still stung. It confused him how she could not see he was the only one she'd ever truly need. He had taught her everything. He was her father, but even more, he was her God. 

He'd been the one to pull her right out from her mother's womb, her little slimy body cradled in his gloved hands, and her newborn cries piercing the hospital room. 

He remembered the day as if it was yesterday.

Swarms of scrubs and bright penetrating lights, the beeping monitor, the clattering of tools on trays. Those nurses assisting had no idea they weren't delivering just another infant into this world. They had helped deliver history. If only Brenner had known how much she would change not only the world as man knew it, but change his world even more. 

Her mother, Terry Ives, had been a good incubator and part of him wished she hadn't revolted against him and HNL. She had been powerful, not like Eleven, but a seed to start a revolution. He was going to make history with her and he had through Eleven, but it was bitterly broken when Ives broke in and tried to take his daughter. And she was his daughter more than Terry's. 

Brenner shook his head slightly. Terry Ives had been unfit to be a mother really; a young, broke college student addicted to the drugs they gave her, mentally unstable, and believing in all kinds of conspiracies against the government he worked for and his lab. She was foolishly impulsive and had been easy to manipulate. He fielded her lawsuits and would have left her alone with her delusions if she hadn't come back to claim her child. 

He'd been told it would have been kinder to have killed her. But as her doctor, he couldn't just murder a mentally sick woman. He hoped her sister was still taking care of her. He had kept tabs on her for a while as a measure of caution, but since the press lost interest in her case, and neither Ives sister had made any kind of news for the past several years, he'd stopped bothering. 

Breathe. Sunflower. Rainbow. Three to the right. Four to the left. 450. So she said. 

Brenner breathed out a sigh. It was too easy to get drawn down the sticky webs of the past. He had a subject - no, a little daughter to think of now as he shook the bottle again, wincing as he tried to walk faster to Eleven's room. His body was slowly recovering, but pain pills were a necessity for his back and the gauze that itched at his face would be part of his face for weeks before he'd be bandage free. Not to mention the scarring he would be left with, a dark reminder of quickly life can end at gruesome means. He had lost more staff, agents, and soldiers than he'd care to put on paper, but he was alive. That was all that mattered. 

It had been over 24 hours since the school apprehending of Eleven back to HNL and he had kept her sedated in her new crib. He considered having her on an IV, but decided she wasn't in that much of a critical condition. It was truly remarkable how quickly her physical body was rebounding from an over-drain of her powers and coming back from a toxic parallel dimension. She was very resilient. He wished he could say the same for himself. 

Brenner recalled his when his brown hair started fading to gray before succumbing to snow-capped white. He internally blamed the stress of raising Eleven and the other subjects for causing his hair to turn white. But that was a lie; it was just a human excuse to defy the reality. It really was a marker of age and his daunting mortality. 

Both his mother and father had perished during World War II when he was a young man. Only his self-taught ambition and self preservation kept his mind and body going as he went onward to American medical school. Emotion - crippling depression and grief - was a weakness. War had turned his life upside down and he felt it was doing it again. However, he wasn't alone this time around. Eleven was the key to everything and he couldn't bear to lose her.   

Brenner was glad he had sold his house a year or so ago and now lived full time at the laboratory. His life was here now and her life was too. Whatever she had experienced outside this place was irrelevant. Maybe Eleven would learn to put the past behind her better than he could. With his treatments, she would. 

If she wasn't so important to him both personally and professionally, he'd almost consider letting her go. Subject 008, or Kali, as she insisted her identity be, was the one that got away. She'd successfully escaped shortly after Terry's break-in and was now living a criminal's life. Eight was hard to keep track of with her maddening illusions, but a few stray police reports from around the country were enough to confirm she wasn't flourishing in complete obscurity and being a clean citizen. He hoped whatever her life was now was teaching her a lesson about the real world. That being an outlaw paid a price and always running would eventually run her into the ground. She left a secure facility with three healthy meals a day, a bed, and complete medical care for the streets. But Eight was smart. It was unlikely she would up in the enemy's possession. Eleven wasn't as smart or independent. Brenner's worst dread was that she was going to end up in the hands of the Soviets. If she only could understand, if she only knew the high stakes, she'd be grateful to have him. She should be lucky to have her protective Papa. 

Brenner now reached Eleven's door and he unlocked it, pushing forward into the nursery with the bright lights.   

She was waking up, as he had seen on the security footage, and was no doubt very hungry. He wasn't sure how she was going to take to a bottle not filled with water, but with milk laced with a light sedative in case she got cranky. He was surprised she hadn't tried to use her abilities yet, but he knew she was still rather drained. When her abilities did return shortly, he hoped she wouldn't destroy everything in sight. He'd never been afraid of her, but he did fear her resistance. She was dangerous and vulnerable. Deadly yet dependent. The yin and yang which felt like the bane of his whole existence. 

"Good morning, Eleven. How are you feeling today?" 

She was sitting up in the crib, rubbing her eyes with her knuckles before looking over at him. Her mouth opened slightly, then closed. He fought a smile, knowing she was unable to form an answer. 

"Still a little sleepy, hmm?" 

He brought the bottle from around his back and held it in front of her. 

She stared at it.

"Would you like to try this?" 

He asked her permission, even though he wasn't giving her a choice. 

Brenner walked over and dropped the crib side down and she swung her legs out over the side with a hand reaching up to take the bottle. He held it away.

"Papa needs to give it to you, Eleven."

Eleven frowned and made a grab for it. He took a few steps back.

"If you can't cooperate with me, you're not going to get fed," he spoke firmly as her face crumpled into anger and frustration. 

He waited as she processed her emotions and didn't flinch when she suddenly thrust out her hand towards him. Brenner felt a magnetic pull with the bottle inching out of his palm and he tightened his fingers around it. 

"That's good, Eleven."

The pulling sensation dropped and a small line of blood came trickling down from her nose. At least she could still take orders.

He stepped closer to her and bent down, pulling her onto his lap, and her arms flung around his neck. 

He cradled the back of her head, running his fingers through her buzzed hair as he brought the bottle to her face with his free hand. He saw the distrust in her eyes, but also the yearning hunger that was winning out. He pushed the bottle's nipple to her lips and she reluctantly opened her mouth. 

"Suck on it," he coaxed her as she paused, unsure. 

Slowly she drank the milk in, swallowing in gulps, and then finishing it quickly. He pulled the bottle out and watched her eyelids starting to droop until she fell forward onto his shoulder. Brenner set the empty bottle down on the floor and rummaged in his pocket of his pants for a white handkerchief to wipe her mouth. He patted her back and heard a small hiccup and burp. He'd give her a little more food later beyond the milk to get her strength back up. 

Within a few minutes, she was fast asleep with her head heavy on him. He deposited her back into the crib and put up the side, watching her curl up automatically with the stuffed lion under her chin. He stood for a bit over her, letting that fatherly feeling wash over him and basking in it. 

This was feeding his fatherly instincts far more than he could have predicted. Brenner realized he needed her as much as she needed him. As long as her mind was infantile, more complacent than it had ever been, she'd have no choice but to wholeheartedly put her trust and life in his hands.

The ultimate control...it was all he could ever ask for as a father. 

Chapter Text

November 14, 1983 10:00 AM

HNL

Time was beginning to become a very fuzzy concept for Eleven. She felt like she was both falling and floating out of darkness and light as she came to once again...waking up to the bars...waking up to the stars and numbers on strings above her, mocking her as they danced just out of reach. She wasn't sure how long she'd been asleep, but it had felt like forever. A faint grumbling in her stomach sounded and she hazily remembered sucking on something Papa had been holding and tasting thick milk on her tongue. Her stomach growled louder. 

Pulling herself up, Eleven reached around one of the white bars to feel for the latch that Papa kept using to slide the side down. Her fingers touched startlingly cold metal and her index reflexingly flinched back. She put her finger back on the latch and tried to pull it, but it was unyielding. A click paused her attempts and the door slowly opened with Dr. Brenner striding in, holding a few little jars and a couple bottles in the crook of his arm. He set them down on the table, the glass jars clinking softly. 

Brenner went over to Eleven's crib and cooed at her while he easily unlatched the side. He undid it too fast for her to see how it exactly worked. Eleven leaned back away from him and pushed her plush lion down to the end of the crib where he rested with a paw hanging out.

Brenner reached for her again, but she clung to the bars away from his touch. She didn't trust him, no matter how hungry her tummy told her she was. She still didn't understand what he was doing to her and why he was acting a little differently towards her. Maybe it was because she was still "sick" as he said, though she didn't feel like it anymore.  

Brenner pulled at her arm and gave her an tight, impatient smile. 

"You can't stay in your crib, Eleven. I have to feed you."

Her stomach rumbled louder and she timidly let him gather her in his grip and pull her from the crib to the cot. Her diaper crinkled as her bottom rested on the mattress and she squirmed uncomfortably. She'd never worn something that made such a noise.  

Brenner pulled a folded white cloth out from under the table and reached around her, fastening the bib by tying it securely to the back of her neck. It reminded her of her hospital gown. The fabric tickled her neck and goosebumps crawled up her skin. Eleven pulled at the cloth, which was yet another unfamiliar garment she'd couldn't remember ever wearing before in the Lab. 

Brenner turned to the side table and Eleven watched warily as he arranged the jars of baby food and then unscrewed the lid on one filled with a yellow colored mush. He took a silver spoon and dipped it into the jar. It made a squeching noise as he moved it around, harvesting a large spoonful and bringing it up to her face. 

"Okay, Eleven. Open up."

She wrinkled her nose at the strong scent of banana. Upon inspecting the mushy spoonful, she decided she didn't want it. It was a far cry from the Eggos she ached for, let alone any other food she'd had in her life. 

So she shook her head no and Papa's signature frown appeared as an angry dent between his eyebrows. He suspected she wouldn't take to it right away, but her resistence still made him unhappy.  

"Open wide," he urged with the spoonful almost against her lips.

He was met with a firmly closed mouth and protesting whine with more head shaking side to side. 

"Oh, I know you're feeling fussy, little one, but you need to eat."

He refused to play this silly game with her. 

"Open wide," Brenner insisted. 

"No, Papa," she firmly retorted. 

He sighed, dropping the spoon down and pulling it away back to the jar as he considered his next actions. 

"How about we try a different flavor, hmm?"

"No!" 

"Eleven..." 

He turned back to her, a stiff warning dressing his tone as he pondered a possible punishment. However, before he had time to really think about it, a sudden violent movement of her thrusting hand sent him reflexily ducking quickly to the side as the banana jar went flying clear across the room. It shattered against the wall with a clatter of broken glass to the floor, and mush dripped slowly down the tiles. 

She sent the rest of the jars flying in an instant and a smattering hit the wall. Yellow splats covered part of the nearest stick figure drawing taped up. The couple of milk bottles rolled off the table to the floor, bumping into Brenner's shiny black cap-toe shoes. 

Brenner slowly turned to face her, his back spasming from his forced lunging to his right. He rubbed it uneasily and glared at her, mouth a taut line of disapproval. 

Intense dark brown eyes bored into his own icy blues and her mouth mirrored his own. 

"No."

This infantile experiment was becoming a bit harder than he originally thought. 

Chapter Text

November 14, 1983 11:00 AM

HNL

Papa was mad. 

Eleven knew it the moment she had flung her food telekinetically at the wall. She knew it the moment he turned to face her with that look in his hard eyes.

She knew it now, sitting strapped to a dark gray padded examining chair, her wrists bound by brown leather buckles and her ankles pressed tightly together.

Right after the incident, he had personally picked her up with more force than needed; the gentleness he had been exhibiting before now an unwelcome absence. She had struggled, screaming as he carried her out of her room and down into the hallway. Every unpleasant past memory of the Lab dragged up to the surface of her mind; of being thrown roughly into Dark Room, of piercing needles, of hissing cats, of screaming and crying for Papa to no end. Why had she maybe thought that was all over now just because he had been treating her a little differently? He was the same old bad man. Bad Papa.

But he hadn't taken her to Dark Room at least. Papa took her to a small room used for medical check-ups with an intimidating chair and closed cabinets holding tools she always had dreaded. He had set her down in the chair and a couple of burly security men came in right behind him and hovered over her, securing the straps and binding her bare legs. Papa had stared down at her, his face deep in disappointment. 

"Eleven, I want you to sit here for a while and think about what you did."

He left the room then with the men and the door slammed after them.

She had cried and yelled in frustration for several minutes as she thrashed in place, her fingers flaring out at the end of the armrests from under the bindings, but it was useless. Even if she could break free, the door was surely locked, and her strength was already waning. Why did she feel so weak since she returned to this place? If only she had saved her strength enough to break out of her crib and her room, and hurt or kill anyone that stood in her way, even Papa.

No, not Papa! Not Papa... A tiny voice in the back of her brain whimpered. He was helping her, wasn't he? If she only had trusted him and if she only had just taken the icky mushy food, maybe it would be different. Guilt started to leave a bad aftertaste in her mouth and a pained sob choked out of her as the tears trailed down her cheeks.

Back in the nursery, Dr. Brenner breathed out an exhausted sigh out through his nostrils as he tore off the yellow stained, ruined old paper drawing of Eleven's off the wall and crumpled it up into a tight ball before tossing it in the trashcan. A nurse beside him was dutifully scrubbing the wall clean of banana baby food and cleaning up the shards of glass into a dustpan. She gave him an unnecessary sympathetic glance as she brushed past after finishing up with the mess and leaving the nursery. The nurse had a simple job to do and she had done it. He didn't need her pity; everything was capably under control now.  

Brenner should have known Eleven would reject her new food, but the outburst still slightly surprised him. Maybe she just wasn't ready to accept her new condition yet, even after the sedatives. But, he reminded himself, she wasn't a really helpless infant and he had to play this more careful. He was getting tired of sedating her. They'd just have to push through this the harder way and that meant Eleven had to take her earned punishment. 

He would leave her in the restraining chair all day locked in the small room without a sedative until she learned to finally obey him. It was the simplest of things; the primitive construct of dominance and submission that even intellectually lagging young children learned fairly quickly. Animals mastered it even faster. He wasn't even putting her through any experiments or tests - just a basic psychology one. How hard could it be for her to try new food? 

Feeding his little daughter had to be easier than proverbially pulling teeth. It had to be less dangerous than facing a hungry monster with razor sharp teeth and claws. It had to be smoother than twenty stitches to the face.   

Dr. Brenner wasn't a man that would settle for less than his expectations. 

6:00 PM

Eleven was terribly sick of the ceiling. For hours she had stared up above her because it was the only place in this room that didn't make her queasy, despite its unappealing gray blandness. Now she desperately wanted to see those hanging stars again and lay in her crib transfixed at the colored numbers. Anything was better than counting the same square ceiling tiles over and over.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve.

That was the highest she could count before starting over again. Eleven, her own namesake, over and over. Eleven. Not 'El'...she wasn't El anymore.

El...Mike...she would face down another Demogorgon just to hear that name again. She couldn't even think of him without a pang in her chest. Her arms ached from the hours trapped on the armrests and she had wet herself at some point earlier. Her diaper was warmly damp, sticky, and her butt hurt. Eleven's tears had dried up hours ago, her emotional reservoir completely drained. After so much sleeping the past couple of days, she couldn't even doze past this slow torture. She wished she had Mike's calculator watch on her wrist so she could count those numbers like Mike had shown her to tell time. 

Mike...that stabbing pain to her chest again. She tried to shake his face from her mind and instead focus on the shut door on front of her, willing herself to believe that it would soon swing open and Papa would step through to save her. As much as she hated it - hated him - he was her only hope at the moment of leaving this room. 

Meanwhile, Dr. Brenner hauled his body up and off his cot in his own private room where he had gone to comfortably lie down for most of the day, giving his spent back a break for once. His doctors told him he should really be at rest at all times, but it was hard to lie idly when there was much work to be done. Going off to the restroom, he popped a pill into his mouth and washed it down with a cold glass of water. The part of his face that he could see in the mirror appeared haggard and his hair was disheveled. Quickly, Brenner ran a comb through it and buttoned up his pale blue dress shirt before leaving to start down the hallway. 

The clock on the wall hit six and he figured it was about time to break Eleven's solitary confinement and pull her back into his affection. She probably had wet herself hours ago and was out of tears. She must be starving and would take anything at this point, he hoped. After all, it was dinnertime.  

Stopping outside the room, Brenner unlocked the door and stepped inside to get a good look at her. 

Eleven was staring straight ahead at him, her face blushed red with dried tear tracks.  

"Papa."

She heaved a sigh and her face broke into relief.

He could tell that the anger had subsided, as he knew it would, and for now she only wanted his easing comfort. 

"You were a naughty baby girl, Eleven. I hope you're learned something today." 

She lowered her head, a hint of shame. Finally that bit of that submission he craved to see.

We'll see how long it lasts, he thought somewhat bitterly. Eleven was a fighter, for she'd been born to be one, but if only she would not fight her Papa. 

Brenner took his time undoing the metal buckles of the restraints and unbinding her legs. She then she fell out of the chair with a stumble into his arms. The scent of urine from her was almost unbearably strong.  

"Let's get that diaper of yours changed, yes?" 

He felt her nod vigorously against his chest, her hands clenching his shirt, and he scooped her up once more with a grunt. He realized he was going to need a little assistance in caring for her for the next couple weeks if he wanted his back to get better; he couldn't keep carrying her all the time and the constant bending over was hindering his healing. Not to mention if she threw more tantrums.

It was his own relief to get her back to her nursery and he tried to make quick work of changing her soggy diaper, but she wiggled and whined in discomfort on the cot, twisting her body around underneath him. Brenner held one hand firmly on her stomach and felt into his pocket for his keys. Pulling them out, he hooked his pinky finger around the key ring and suspended them above her face as a distraction. The jingling and jangling captivated her attention and she stared, fascinated, with her own small hands longing upwards to grab them. However, he refused to let her have the keys. The last thing he needed was her to covet his keys and likely put the metal in her mouth. Or would she do that? He was finding it tricky to determine what she would do and he had to stop forgetting she wasn't a real baby.

It was difficult, but he managed to one-handedly unfasten and pull off the drenched diaper to dispose of it. Brenner dropped the keys back down to his pants, despite a protesting whine from Eleven, and he took two hands to a thicker fresh diaper after applying a bit of cool cream to her bare reddish bottom. The diaper rash wasn't too bad. He buttoned the one-piece up and cleaned his hands while she slowly sat up, prodding at her extra padded crotch. 

The door swung open and a nurse came over to him, holding out a plastic blue tray with tonight's dinner of mashed potatoes and peas with two cups of applesauce on it. Brenner nodded at her, taking the tray, and turning back to his daughter. Her face scrunched up before relaxing some at the sight of the non-banana food. She knew this food; she'd had it before many times as a standard meal at the Lab, although the peas had never been mashed before. He figured if she wouldn't take to baby food, this was a good substitute for tonight at least. 

Brenner knelt down in front of her with the tray and sighed. 

"Okay, Eleven. Let's try this again."    

Chapter Text

November 14, 1983 6:30 PM

HNL

The spoon swirled around, scooping into the creamy little white mountain of mashed potatoes. Brenner brought up the full spoonful carefully to Eleven's mouth and she leaned forward eagerly in desperate hunger. He smiled as she accepted it without any kind of verbal prompt and swallowed it down quickly. It wasn't the most flavorful food, but it felt smooth and filling going down her throat, almost like ice cream. Oh, how she missed ice cream; it was almost as good as waffles. 

Brenner continued feeding her the potatoes until it was scraped clean with just a dusting of white smeared left on the tray. He moved on to peeling the silver top off the applesauce cup and dipped into the thick yellow pool. Bringing it to her mouth, she opened wide this time, as wide as she did when the doctors checked her tonsils. The smell of sweet mushy apple was much better than smell of mushy banana. Papa paused, watching her reaction, and then pushed the spoon in. Eleven happily ate off the rest of the applesauce spoonfuls and Brenner nodded. Making progress. 

"Very good, Eleven. Very good," Brenner praised her with a pinch of pride in his voice. 

"Would you like some more?"

She bounced slightly on the cot, nodding in approval, as he opened up the second applesauce cup. Gathering an ample spoonful, he lifted it up to her face, but kept it a few inches away from her ready mouth. She whined and Brenner played with her by moving the spoon up, down, left, and right. Her eyes followed it with frustration until he pushed it too close and she accidentally got a dab on her nose. Licking her lips, she attempted to get the rest, but it ended up all over her chin and dribbled down before Brenner took a cloth to catch the dripping. 

He chuckled at her embarrassment. 

"Eleven, you're a messy girl." 

But Papa was the one who pushed it too close, didn't he? She was hungry and he was playing games with her. A tiny frown showed up to her face and she turned her head away as he tried to cup her cheek.  

"How about the peas then, hmm?"

Brenner pushed the spoon into the pulpy green and lifted it, directly this time, to her closed mouth. Eleven cautiously sniffed and wrinkled her nose at the green mucky vegetable. It smelled - and looked - worse than the banana. She shook her head in protest to it. 

"These are good for your tummy," he promised and pushed the spoonful closer.

"No, Papa..." she mumbled. 

"Do you really want to go through this again, Eleven?" 

"No!" 

She slapped the spoon out right of his hand and it clacked onto the floor, plopping peas next to his shoe.

"That's enough, Eleven!" Brenner snapped.

He bent down, snatching up the spoon, and cleaned it while she watched and tried not to show the satisfaction on her facial features. She hadn't even had to use her powers to cause an effect. That showed Papa and his icky peas.    

Unfortunately, Brenner was now past the point of encouragement to take the spoonfuls. She needed force. He aggressively grabbed her chin and pried her mouth open with a few fingers, while taking a new pea spoonful up with his other hand. He shoved the peas forcefully into her mouth and pushed them down, making her swallow. Eleven made noises of discontent from her throat and tried to push away, but he held fast. 

One, two, three spoonfuls. She started to gag and choke. Brenner pressed the cloth to her mouth and she forced herself to stop, gulping down the excess peas, and he yanked the cloth away as she coughed loudly, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. 

Brenner shook his head in exasperation and piled the dirty spoon and cloth on top of the empty tray as the door opened. The nurse came in, walking over to take the empty tray from his hands.

"How did she do?" the nurse asked softly, glancing over with concern at the sputtering girl. 

Brenner sighed again. He hoped the nurse was prepared to feed Eleven herself for the next couple weeks when he wasn't going to be available all the time. Hopefully Eleven wouldn't give her the amount of trouble she'd been giving him.

"We had a little complication, but she's cooperating now...aren't you, Eleven?" 

His subject - his daughter - wouldn't even look at him.

The nurse nodded, even though her better judgement inside told her not to, and offered a small smile to Eleven before sweeping out of the room with the tray in hand.

Brenner looked back to Eleven, exhaustion pulling at the lines around his eyes. There was just one more part to take care of before he could put her to bed for the night, but it would take a tad of time.

He held his arms out to her.

"Now let's get you back to your crib, okay?"

A very long moment passed.

Finally she nodded, succumbing to murky trust in the form of his holding embrace. He patted her upper back gently and she predictably burped on his shoulder. He rubbed circles around her shoulder blades, which felt stiff from her time all day in the chair, and carried her over to the crib. He lowered her in, firmly pulling the side up and locking it into place. Eleven pouted as Papa stepped towards the door, knowing she would be left in solitude once more. God, was she sick of that today. 

He opened the door but didn't close it to her surprise. She stared out at the hallway wall as he went to the right and out of sight. Was this a test? A punishment? To make her stuck in her crib with the open door in front of her, teasing her, torturing any shred of freedom she had left?

But within a minute, she heard his footsteps coming back and a squeaking, scraping sound as he dragged a chair into the room. Papa set it against the wall opposite her, next to the door he then closed, and sat down. A deep sigh emitted from him as he crossed one leg over the other, settling his hands on his lap after briefly touching his bandaged face. Papa stared intensely at her from the chair. Eleven shifted her weight and her stomach gurgled uncomfortably. Was he just going to sit there and watch her?

The room was so quiet she could hear the steady ticking of his wristwatch. 

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. 

Minutes passed awkwardly and she reached down and picked up Mr. Lion from the edge of her crib. Fingers tangled into his reddish brown mane and she ran her hand down his soft tan body over and over, trying to keep her mind off of Papa across the room. It was clear he wasn't leaving anytime soon, but she had no idea why. If he wanted to keep a close watch on her, that's what the corner camera was for. Her stomach grumbled more and started to hurt with a funny pressure.  

Brenner checked his watch and a half hour had passed. She was going to have to go soon. 

Eleven set the lion down and stood up in the crib, gripping the bars, and looked at him like a zoo animal in a cage. 

"Papa?"

"Yes, Eleven?"

She hesitated, swallowing as if that would stop the word. 

"Bath-room." 

"What's that, little one?"

Eleven paused, putting the sentence together in her head before speaking. 

"Have to go to bathroom," she stated. Not the Room, not the Bath. The bathroom, the toilet.  

Brenner blinked. That was the most she'd spoken since getting her back under his care. 

"I don't think you're potty trained yet, Eleven."

She didn't know what that meant, but the pressure was mounting below her abdomen. She really needed to go - to poop - for lack of a better term. 

"Papa..." she pleaded, hands curling tighter around the bars. 

He just watched her with a carefully deadpan expression and she realized with frightful revulsion that he was expecting to not use the bathroom, but only her diaper. To poop herself. 

"No, Papa. No..." she breathed.  

Eleven rattled the rails angrily, wishing she could pry them all apart with her own bare hands. Tears threatened to break out instead. 

"No!" she cried as she felt the pressure giving way. She couldn't hold on any longer; she had to release. 

A few seconds later, her diaper sagged with soft weight between her legs. She was too horrified to even grab at the snaps on her one-piece. She just started sobbing and couldn't stop. Her vision became such a blurry, hazy mess that she barely saw Papa coming over to drop the side down and gingerly getting her shaking body into his arms. He laid her down again on the cot and her diaper disgustingly squished around her bottom. 

She cried and writhed as Papa struggled to completely remove her one-piece. He placed something in her mouth too fast for her to resist it. It felt like the bottle, but without the milk, and she instinctively sucked hard on it. Oddly, it soothed her emotional upheaval and she put all her energy and focus into sucking it, avoiding looking down at what she had done in the diaper.  

Brenner gloved his hands and removed the messy diaper deliberately, leaving her naked on the cot as he folded it up. He held it up in front of her triumphantly, as if he'd just extracted a bullet. 

"This...this is what your diaper is for..." Brenner slowly told her.

"Do you understand, Eleven?"

She shook her head honestly. No, not this time. For once for she didn't understand. How could she? 

"Well, you are going to learn." 

Brenner tossed the dirty diaper into the trash and proceeded to wipe her entire body down with a cleaning wet wipe that made her shiver. He applied a large amount to powder to her before grabbing a new diaper. He affixed it to her, under and around her legs and swaddling her waist tightly. 

Eleven was still sniffling and she wiped messily at her wet face. 

"Shh, shh. I'm almost done, little one. You'll be sleeping like a baby after this."

Brenner grinned at his own joke and moved to grab her new one-piece for bed. It was a cotton-candy colored solid pink sleeper with a zipper in the back. She stayed in place, too tired of fighting anymore, and let Papa's hands guide her into it. Once she was zipped up, Eleven looked down at her covered feet and wiggled her toes, in awe of the fuzzy footies connected as part of the whole sleepsuit. It was the coziest clothing she had ever worn. Brenner tickled the soles of her feet and that giggling sound spontaneously burst out from her again and the thing she was sucking on fell out of her mouth. 

"See, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Brenner reassured her and pulled her up to him.

"Do you like your pacifier?"

He picked it up and plugged it back to her mouth, tapping lightly on it with his finger, and then booping her nose. 

Eleven nodded, almost shyly, and he looked pleased. Maybe this infantilism was going to work out in his favor (and her's, as she should come to realize) after all.

Of course, she still was upset with him, as he could judge by her expression, but she'd adjust sooner or later. 

Brenner carried her one last time for the day to the crib and laid her comfortably down on the mattress, taking the pacifier out and placing old stuffed Mr. Lion in her arms. Eleven took him close to her chest and turned her back to Brenner, facing the wall. He, as well, turned away to walk out the door and the light went out with him.  

"Goodnight, Eleven."

Chapter Text

November 29, 1983

HNL

Eleven was despondent after the last diaper change, so Dr. Brenner left her in the care of nurses for a couple weeks as he had already planned to. He knew he had to give her time to process the new condition her life was in and, so far at least, there hadn't been any more outbursts or incidents from her. The few nurses told him she was fairly managing and cooperating, letting them feed and change her without hardly any struggle. Now if she was ready for him to come back and accept him to take care of her, that would remain to be seen. He hoped to get an answer to that today. 

As for himself, Brenner had surrendered all his time to submitting his body to the slow recovery, the physical healing from the attack. The nightmares haunted him at night...the creature's flapping face rushing at his own, the slam backwards onto the hard floor, hot bloody breath inches from his nose, claws digging into his chest, rows and rows of sharp teeth, the deafening rounds of gunfire all around him...and then he'd wake up in a cold sweat with a twinging back. He never had something in his life jar him so much as this had. Not even World War II and the loss of his parents. The close brush with his own ending was his deepest fear outside of losing Eleven. Ironically, she had been able to hold her own against the creature, destroying it completely at the risk of her own life...while it was bullets from his men that saved his neck, but that had only thwarted it. Bullets were powerful, but her powers were still superior. It would be a lie if Brenner didn't hold a little envy for her abilities. She had made a full physical recovery while he was still on pain pills and bandages. Of course, she was young and that was a reason why he'd moved to experimenting with children over adults. Soldiers were better when they weren't facing the downhill of aging.

There was somewhat positive progress to be made, however: his facial bandages were coming off soon and there would be scars to see. Brenner was fortunate he hadn't lost an eye or his nose, the doctors reported, but his back wouldn't probably be painless ever again... and his body was still getting older regardless.  

There was also going to be some reconfiguring to HNL, as some of the staff were quitting. A nurse personally came to him yesterday and resigned, stating she hadn't come into this project to take care of an mentally invalid twelve year old girl. Didn't they understand? Eleven was his project, his experiment, and she was sick and he was making her better. Eleven was everything and his orders were everything. He too was keen to get back to testing her abilities, no doubt, but he had to earn her trust again by going slower. Those underneath him shouldn't worry about the sake of HNL. Brenner had been on the phone with various government officials and also had contacted top physician Dr. Sam Owens, who would be assisting with Brenner as a secondary Director of Operations. He was a decent man with years of experience in government under his belt. Brenner had known of him from med school and knew he was suitable to the job, even if he didn't care for him too much personally. He would make a good front man for HNL; Owens was someone with a clean record, no lawsuits, no past suspicions. The DOE had caused too much local suspicion already and there was no need to cause a public federal fiasco.

Dr. Owens would be in charge of the (then) missing boy, William Byers, while Brenner oversaw and handled Eleven; both children who needed to be kept under the Lab's watch. Brenner initially thought the boy was just to be a casualty, someone in the wrong place at the right time. He hadn't been; it was clear there was something about him that needed further investigation. The creature had sought him out as it had called to Eleven and that couldn't be a coincidence. 

He knew the boy had been admitted to Hawkins General Hospital and was released right before Thanksgiving. He'd made a stable recovery. The question, though, was how any side effects of his prolonged time in the dimension would manifest; that was why he was needed at Hawkins Lab. Brenner's own grown men never lasted long enough to study any long term effects of that seemingly toxic environment, but a pubescent boy had made it out alive. 

Unfortunately, bringing the boy in for research meant dealing with the Chief of Hawkins Police more and the boy's mother, who was a persistent handful. He didn't know much about her other then the tapped phone calls and their brief altercation the night of locating Eleven. However, she seemed to be cut from the same cloth as Terry Ives had been. Brenner was finding that women, who were mothers, were often more trouble than they were worth. He wouldn't hesitate to give her the same treatment he'd given Ives, but only if it was an absolute necessity. It would make everything too complicated... she had too many connections, but she wasn't a far cry from appearing as mentally unstable as Terry Ives. At the time, Terry had a lack of hard evidence and no one to really vouch for her besides her sister, who was a skeptical person and it was easy to shut down any possibilities of conspiracy with a skeptic because she listened to the government. However, this wasn't the 60s anymore.  

It hadn't been too hard to swat the pesky flies of the local press. The newspaper reported the Byers boy had survived under mysterious circumstances and he, Dr. Martin Brenner, had issued no comment, while the eyewitness reports of a van flipping through a sleepy neighborhood on Elm Street was merely a blown tire on one of the Hawkins Power and Light vans. There had been little to no property damage. The state coroner was arrested for falsifying a corpse. The rest of the story was relatively unproven. Hawkins was a simple small town with small talk and he was determined to keep it that way. 

Brenner tossed a copy of the Hawkins Post newspaper aside to his bedside table and stood up. It was finally time for a check on his subject, or should he say his daughter. His weeks away from her had him thinking of her more as a test subject again, not a child of his own. It was funny how a lack of exposure could tighten the mind from wandering into any fonder feelings. That wasn't going to last anymore, though, as he strolled down the shiny white tiled halls to her room. Her nursery, he reminded himself. She was his infant. A young obedient child who should do anything he told her to do. As he had learned from the military, you had to break someone before you could make them into what you wanted. Was Eleven broken enough yet?

Brenner reached her room and unlocked the door, stepping inside with a light, pleasant smile on his face. She was lying down on her back in the crib, staring up at the mobile. She seemed fascinated with it, perhaps because of the numbers. He wondered if she even remembered her "sister" Eight or brief glimpses at the other numbered subjects before they were deemed failures. Somehow he doubted it. 

"Hello, Eleven."

She sat up rather quickly, surprise and resignation lighting up her eyes. Oh, it's you.  

Her eyes cast downward, her head following in submissive posture. 

Brenner noticed her stuffed lion was on the floor, tipped over on his side like a wounded animal. He frowned, bending to pick it up and offering it to her. A truce, if there was one. Eleven reached up to take the toy gently from his hands, avoiding her Papa's eyes, and closely cuddled it up to her cheeks. 

"Eleven, will you look at me?" Brenner asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

She continued snuggling the lion as if she hadn't heard him. Brenner knelt to the floor slowly until he was at her eye level, peering at her through the crib bars. Still, she ignored his presence.

"Are you still mad at me, little one? You know I have to do what I do."  

Eleven glanced at him quickly before putting the lion up to her face again. 

"I promise I won't let anything hurt you again and I just want to protect you. The best way to do that is to keep you in here, for your own safety," Brenner explained, tapping a finger against a bar. 

Was it a waste of resources to baby her? Possibly, but Brenner was a man driven by extremes and groundbreaking efforts. He absolutely refused to admit those attempts at success ended up hurting more than helping. And wasn't this what Eleven always had craved from him? The undying affection, attention, and sense of purpose by pleasing him? He knew it when she screamed out for him when being taken to her punishment room; that was why he sent her there. He figured she would realize just how much she needed him. Eleven could not stand being alone. Yet she had run away from him because she was too scared of him...no, it wasn't him at all, Brenner decided. It was the creature, the monster from another dimension, the unfamiliar in the darkness. That was what frightened her beyond reason. Fear had driven a child from her God. Brenner smiled and put a finger through, in between the bars, to touch her hand clutching the lion. Her eyes jumped up to parallel his. 

"You have to trust me, Eleven. Will you trust your Papa?" 

She swallowed and he almost thought she was about to cry, but she kept her hardened gaze on him and then just barely nodded. 

"That's my girl."

Brenner could see her reluctance, but he didn't expect much better. Even if she only trusted him because it was the only option, that was good enough for right now. 

Eleven put Mr. Lion back up to her face and then shyly peeked out from behind his body. 

"Are you playing peek-a-boo with Papa?"

She quickly hid behind the stuffed animal again and Brenner chuckled. 

Was Eleven broken? No, not quite. Rather, she was slowly going to become whole once she fully accepted him and then they could make history together, side by side. Papa and daughter. 

Baby steps. That was the only sure plan going forward. 

Chapter Text

December 24, 1983

HAWKINS INDIANA 

Hawkins Police Chief Jim Hopper lit up a cigarette in the cold outside the police station and adjusted his hat. Joyce had told him recently that with the hat he looked like Indiana Jones from that Raiders of the Lost Ark movie. After a banter with her about whether she felt something for Harrison Ford or not, he decided he liked the comparison. Joyce had to think he was as good looking as Ford, right? 

The door suddenly swung open with a jingle and Officer Powell stepped out, sidestepping the cloud of cigarette smoke and nearly bumping into him. 

"Oh - uh, hey Chief. You better get in there 'cause the guys are taking all the donuts and Flo's not saving you one."

"You bet. I'm on it," Hopper replied, pushing through the door into the station. It was all decked out for the annual holiday party with lights, wreaths, trees, and smelled of coffee and Christmas cookies. Various staff were mingling about, eating off of paper plates and chattering over "Carol of the Bells" playing from a radio. Hopper wished he could be as jolly as those around him. To them, everything was fine in Hawkins now. The kid had been found alive after all and was now home safe with his mother and brother. Never mind the government laboratory was still up and running on the edge of town and an inter-dimensional monster had actually infiltrated the town a month ago, killing a teenager and taking a boy who almost died. No, everything was just fine. 

But Hopper knew better. He knew the real story wasn't the one going into the papers. Will seemed to be fine now, besides emotionally shook up, but Hopper knew from experience that once the trauma was over, it really wasn't. It haunted you every goddamn day and the PTSD could go on for years. But the kid wasn't him. Maybe he was going to be okay... but Hopper knew Joyce worried every minute about her son since he was released from the hospital. She didn't have to say it, but it was written all over her face every time he saw her. 

He'd jump in front of a gun without hesitation for that boy. He would have done the same for Sara, if only cancer had been a bullet instead of an incurable disease. 

Dammit.

"Hey, Chief. You doin' okay? Been drinking again? You showed up late to the party."

Hopper blinked. Officer Callahan was standing in front of him with a red and green elf hat on his head and a confused look on his usually dumbfounded face.  

Hopper pushed past him and went over to the cork board with all their paper leads and newspaper clips tacked up. For the past four years, the most the Hawkins police investigated were minor crimes, a few thefts, lost dogs, owls attacking poor Eleanor Gillespie... nothing that made any kind of headlining news. But there was young Will Byer's face staring out from the front page of the paper clipping.

"The Boy Who Came Back To Life."

It made him sound just like a zombie or something. 

Hopper looked away and walked over to check out the food table where there were a variety of pastries (some offered by the local bake sale ladies in town) and grabbed a red and green frosted donut from a quickly dwindling pile. He took a bite as his eyes drifted to a plate of untouched Eggo waffles next to a bright red Christmas tree bursting with bright multi-colored lights. 

Eggos. Eleven's - or El, as the boys called her - favorite food of all things. He wished she was here to enjoy them.   

That bastard had his little science project back at the Lab and Hopper was the only one who knew Eleven wasn't gone for good. He'd made the deal with Dr. Brenner and he couldn't keep poking his nose into the man's business. One kid for another, that was it. But the guilt had been gnawing at his gut ever since. The girl shouldn't have to suffer and she should be worth fighting for; Hopper knew it deep inside. However, he had made a promise to himself and that was to keep Joyce and her kids out of danger. It was his job, but more than that, he needed to protect them. Hopper felt his hands were tied behind his back and he hated himself for thinking that one kid's life was worth more over another. He couldn't take it anymore. 

Hopper grabbed the second-to-last donut as a to-go and stormed out of the station, hearing a bewildered Callahan call after him, but he persisted out into the chilly air. Jumping into his Chevy truck and turning to key to rumble the engine to life, Hopper peeled out onto the road, swerving in the snow tracks. The snow was falling thick tonight and the weatherman had declared it to be another white Christmas. Hopper drove straight to the Lab complex, the dark building looming in the distance as he moved up the road past the chain-link fence. Slowly he rolled his truck to a stop and turned off the ignition. 

What the hell was he even thinking?

Hopper folded his arms on the steering wheel and put his head down with a sigh. He couldn't just drive up to the place and expect an answer. He certainly couldn't just break in without getting ten security guys jumping all over him and getting clocked in the head. He wasn't going to go through a taser interrogation again and make another deal he'd regret. No, this was going to take time... planning carefully until he found a way through this. A way to help El, even if he couldn't save her. He would kill himself if he didn't at least try. He couldn't save his little girl, but maybe he could save this one.

With that thought of future hope in mind, Hopper started the truck again and reared it back in reverse and headed back into town.

Callahan wasn't completely wrong. He hadn't been drinking today, but he sure knew he was going to now.    

HAWKINS LAB

Eleven was staring up the stars in her crib and had no clue it was almost Christmas. Papa had come in earlier to see her and he had brought with him a cookie with red and green sprinkles. He let her eat it all by herself with her own two hands for once. It was round and sweet like an Eggo, and she could still taste a bit of sugar on her tongue. He also had brought her a little book of nursery rhymes that he put with her supplies on the table, explaining it would be useful when he soon came around to testing her abilities again. A feeling of dread had drudged up within her; would he force her back into The Bath? The Upside Down? To make contact again? To hurt someone? The worries swirled around in her mind and in her stomach, making the cookie not taste so great after all. 

Maybe Papa was just doing all this for her to condition her back into doing what he wanted. Was she even still "sick"?  

Eleven frowned. Papa didn't seem to want her to use her powers without his supervision; it had always been like that. He was so mad when she used telekinesis on her food, throwing it to the wall in frustration, but would he be mad if she went somewhere in her head? Would he even know if she tried finding someone in the blackness, like she had done in The Bath? The idea sent a spark inside her, a curiosity that wouldn't be killed by doubt. Eleven wasn't entirely sure, but she knew she had to be strong enough by now to go into that void in her mind without the need of a Bath or pool. She had to try it. 

The only problem was she needed total darkness and her room, with its bright fluorescent lights, wasn't helping. Turning her head to the side, Eleven's eyes landed on a pale pink blanket that was draped over the bars of her crib. The nurses had put it there a week or so ago to help her sleep at night. She sat up, reaching for it, and pulled it down into her lap where she twisted her fingers in the fabric, figuring out how to fold it. Making it into a folded enlongated rectangle, Eleven then put it around her head and held the blanket tightly to her face. It was good enough, blocking out the light trying to poke itself through, and she closed her eyes. 

Mike. Mike. Mike. She thought of his name over and over, seeing his face in her mind... the way his dark hair flopped over his forehead, his kind dark brown eyes, the way he spontaneously leaned in to kiss her at the middle school...and suddenly she was soon standing in the black void with water under her feet with him in front of her. He was hunched over his walkie-talkie under in the blanket fort in the basement. 

"El? El, are you there? El, it's me. It's Mike. If you're out there, say something. I just...I just want to know if you're okay." 

She stared at his forlorn face, hungry to see every inch of his features that she hadn't seen since the school, and longing to touch him. She walked forward and crouched down to him, whispering his name. For a split second, she thought he almost heard her, but it didn't come through enough.  

"El? El..."

His voice broke and Eleven's heart broke along with him. He snapped the walkie-talkie antenna shut and she reached for him, but he disappeared in a swirl of smoke. 

"Mike? Mike?! Mike!" 

Eleven grabbed at emptyness as her feet slapped on the water underneath her.

She came jerking back to her senses back in the room, in the stupid crib, and ripped the blanket off her face.

She tried not to cry, to focus (wasn't that what Papa had always told her?) because she wasn't done. There was another boy she had to find and she had to know if he was okay. 

Eleven - El, she almost forgot she could call herself that - took a deep breath and brought the blanket back up to her face with trembling fingers, fighting back tears, and wrapped it around her head. 

Will. Will... she thought hard of him, of his face from the photograph with his friends at the science fair, and of his pale face in the Upside Down. Will's brown eyes, his floppy brown hair, and his small body in his red and yellow puffy jacket. Eleven wasn't sure how long it took, but then she was there and a scene before her in the blackness materialized.  

Will's mom and his brother were gathered around their dinner table at home as Joyce put out dishes of food and Jonathan stood across from her with his camera, snapping photos.  

"It looks great," Jonathan commented and the flash of his camera made Eleven blink. 

"No, this is so overcooked. And look, the potatoes are...runny. They're so runny," Joyce complained, holding up a dripping spoonful of white mush. Eleven looked closer and thought it looked similar to the potatoes Papa fed her. 

"Mom, it's gonna be great," Jonathan reassured her with a pat on her back. 

"It's definitely an Atari," Will's voice sounded and he came into view up to the table with a happy grin. He sat down and happily went on:

"The green present. It's an Atari. I felt Dustin's today - it's the same exact weight."

Eleven had no idea what he was talking about, but at least he seemed joyful and healthy.

Will paused and suddenly jumped up from the table and went quickly walking out of the dining room as Joyce and Jonathan exchanged looks. 

"Hey...no more snooping," Joyce frowned and Will called back to his mom's concerned stare: 

"No, no, I forgot to wash my hands - I'll be right back!"  

Eleven cocked her head, following him, as the others completely disappeared into smoke to her side. Will then stood before a sink, but he wasn't washing his hands. Eleven walked closer until she was just a few feet away and yet he was completely unaware. She stared at him and something felt...wrong. A second later, he coughed and his body lurched forward over the sink as he gripped the sides of it, looking ill. Eleven jumped as a dark, small slimy form fell from out from his mouth, into the sink, and slithered down the drain. Will swayed a bit, straightening back up to look at his face in the mirror, and suddenly the bathroom light flickered. He was then surrounded by thick black tendrils from the blueish visceral Upside Down realm for a second before the light came back.  

Eleven jolted out of the void, yanking the blanket from her face, feeling the familiar tickle of blood trickling down from her nose. Her breath came in hard gasps and she shuddered a sob. Will still was in danger and no one was there to see it. Mike thought she was still alive, but couldn't reach her. And she was trapped here, unable to help them. Her breathing grew faster and she started crying uncontrollably.   

She vaguely heard the door bang open and Papa's voice, louder than usual:

"Eleven, what did you do?! Where were you? What did you see?"

His hands were fast on her, pulling her from the crib and to the cot, where he cradled her head in his lap and his arms wrapped tightly around her. 

"What did you see?" he prodded, shaking her gently. 

She shook her head, too upset for words. She should have known he would hate that she went somewhere in her head without him telling her to under his directions.  

Brenner let her cry. She would wear herself out, as babies often did. The overflow of tears streamed down her scrunched face with the blood slowly dripping from her nose to her upper lip. He stared down at her silently until her tears dried up and she faintly hiccuped. Eleven stared up at him and slowly brought a single finger up to his face.

Of course.

The bandages had come off a few days ago and he closed his eyes as she gently touched a long scar running down the side of his face. Eleven traced the scar, moving along to smaller ones accompanying the age lines on his face, before dropping her hand. There was an unspoken sadness stuck on her face as she gazed at him.

He sighed and brought her up to a seated position beside him, trying to hold her steady as she rocked a bit back and forth. Brenner then stood up and quickly left the room, coming back a minute later with a few blank white pieces of paper in his hands and a few men in white coats right behind him. 

"No..." Eleven choked out, recoiling from the scientists. They were going to take her somewhere, poke and prod her. 

"Eleven, you're not going anywhere," Brenner said as he sat down next to her, as if he'd read her mind. 

That was funny. She really wasn't able to go anywhere anyway. Now she was too frightened to even go into her own mind. 

"Can you show Papa what happened?" Brenner pushed a paper towards her and a scientist handed him a pen. Eleven hesitantly took the pen from him and paused before the paper. She couldn't show him about Mike, but there was Will. She was terrified for him and knew Papa would try to find him if she showed him that Will was still in trouble...and then Will would be in even more danger. What choice did she have, though? She couldn't lie. Friends don't lie. 

Brenner watched her as Eleven scribbled furiously all around the paper, using up the ink to create angry black circles and endless spirals with squiggly lines, but left a small blank space in the middle. She drew a tiny, simplistic stick figure with short hair and a scared face in the center, surrounded by the black swirls. Eleven put the pen down and looked at Papa expectantly. 

Brenner analyzed the drawing, frowning, and pointed to the stick figure. 

"Is this you?"

Eleven shook her head. 

"Who is it? Tell me, Eleven."

Did she really have to do this? Throw Will under the bus? Papa's eyes of stone were drilling into her watery ones and she couldn't resist the truth. 

"Will."

"Will? Will..." Brenner breathed as the realization dawned on him and Eleven startled as he sprang to his feet, the papers crumpling in his fist, and the scientist's faces locked onto his as all of them swept from the room in a rush. The door lonely thudded closed, left behind with her and her mental anguish.    

Oh, what had she done? 

Chapter Text

December 25, 1983 11:00 AM

HNL

It was quiet at the Lab today, quieter than usual. The empty shiny white halls echoed with a yawning silence and Brenner took his time hearing his own footfalls softly thud down the hall to Eleven's room. Most of the staff took Christmas day off except for a few stray security guards and a nurse on duty. Brenner himself had too much on his mind to concern himself with the Christmas holiday. Eleven had unexpectedly located the boy, Will Byers, in her mind last night and he was surprised, but also slightly peeved, that she would use her remote viewing ability without his orders or permission. She wasn't as weakened or as sick as he thought, which was an unpleasant revelation to him. 

Brenner recalled their little conversation last night, after he had left her in her room. He had come back a half hour later from discussing with his scientists, taking notes, and putting her drawing at the forefront of their boardroom.

She had sat sick with worry and edged away from him when he sat down, but he didn't let her fear bother him. At a time like this, she wasn't just a child or a daughter. She was a test subject, his only important subject. 

"You found him in here?" 

Brenner had tapped her temple and Eleven nodded.  

"Why did you do that?" 

Eleven looked at him and he could detect the hesitancy in her eyes. He knew her too well to know she was withholding something from her Papa. He wished he could survey the inside of her mind. It was the only part of her he didn't have access to and it would be much easier if he could document her thoughts, instead of having to make his best guesses based on her outward emotions and body language.  

"You wanted to look for him, didn't you? You thought he was gone." 

Eleven's eyes had flickered downward and she shifted slightly on the cot. So that was the reason, probably. Brenner had smiled slightly at her and reached over to take her hand in his with what he hoped felt like an earnest gesture to her.

"There's no need to worry about him or anyone you met out there. I want you to focus on in here, with me."

She had nodded shyly, but avoided his eyes. 

"I don't want you to go looking for and listening to anyone without me telling you to, okay?" 

"Yes, Papa."

There was a half-hearted undertone in her automatic response that anyone besides him might have missed. 

Brenner needed her trust, but he reserved trust for her. He always had trusted in that she wouldn't hurt him, but it was hard to fully swear on the belief that a temperamental child, who could snap a man's neck in seconds, would never turn on him. Especially after the events of the past month... now that she was trying to reach around his control and seeming to form some sort of connection to the Byers boy. Perhaps Eleven recognized that the boy was special, different like her because he had been cherry-picked by the creature. Brenner knew all about that proverbial 'cherry-picking'... it was what he'd done all his career. Normal, average people were useful, but rather boring to study. Brenner preferred the odd crop, the people that could actually make a difference - for better or worse. To advance the human race because typical humans weren't going to evolve; they were simply too predictable in their patterns and their breeding. Normalcy bred more normalcy, until there was defect the process and it was those defects in human beings that Brenner looked for. Terry Ives had been an exception, the first of her kind, because he had instilled that 'defect' into her, yet what she had produced was anything but defective. Eleven was more powerful and better than the other subjects he had tried to raise, and he had to preserve that without letting her escape away from him, growing like a wild weed out of control. That had already happened with Eight and he was determined to not have history repeat itself. 

Brenner wondered the possibilities with the Byers boy. He couldn't have suppressed gifts, Brenner was sure, as he would have already displayed some sign of that years ago and Brenner had known nothing of him before he went missing in Hawkins, yet he alone had been the first taken by the creature. Had he just been an easy target? No, there had to be a reason for why the creature and this dimension was so intertwined with that boy. There was always a reason, but Brenner knew he couldn't figure out this puzzle on his own without a cover. In short, the sooner Sam Owens was on board, the better.

Shaking those thoughts from his brain, Brenner unlocked Eleven's door and went into the nursery to her crib where she was fast asleep, her body tucked into a fetal position. Brenner checked the late morning time on his watch and smiled; she'd always been a sleepyhead. He brought the side of the rails down and lightly touched her shoulder as she started to stir awake. Eleven sat up and drowsily rubbed her eyes before looking up at him.   

"Eleven, it's time for the bath," Brenner stated calmly.

Her eyes grew wider and she whispered in fear:

"The Bath?"

"Yes, bath," Brenner replied with a pinch of annoyance and leaned over to retrieve her from the crib. 

She struggled in his arms, kicking into his legs as he carried her out to the hallway.

"No, no! No, Papa! Papa!"

Eleven yelled and started to scream, writhing in his grasp. The lights in hall flickered, but Brenner continued his pace forward.  

"Eleven, don't make this difficult," Brenner had to command loudly over the racket she was making. He carried her with some difficulty into a small, dismally pale bathroom with a porcelain white bathtub. Eleven stopped moving and stared down at it. 

Oh. 

A bath.

Not The Bath.

Her face almost burned in humiliation and she let Papa set her down into the floor. Why had he said 'the bath'? She watched as he turned on the silver faucet and ran the water down into the tub. The past couple of weeks nurses had sponge bathed her every other day, but this was the first time Papa himself had taken her for an actual bath. She foggily remembered him bathing her a few times when she much younger, but that before he had put her into The Bath.

"Papa?"

Brenner looked down at her distractedly with one hand resting on the faucet.

"Hmm?"

"No Bath?" 

Knowing she meant the sensory deprivation tank, Brenner shook his head and glanced back at the filling tub. 

"The Bath's broken, Eleven. We're going to have to find something else for you," he replied flatly. It had been damaged when she had made contact and the walls had cracked open, his men fleeing the room and he had lost half his staff that day. This regular bathtub, while crude and unscientific in design, might have to work for his purposes later.   

He turned back to her and unbuttoned her sleep-suit, removed her dry diaper, and then guided her into the bathtub. Her bare body shivered slightly as he set her down on her bottom in the tub. The water splashed against her like the water did to her feet in the void and it gradually came up lapping up to her stomach. Brenner poured some water from a cup onto her head and then knelt down on the floor with a bottle of shampoo. He squirted a dollop of fruity scented, slippery liquid into his palm before rubbing it into her short hair. 

"Looks like we'll need your hair cut again," he murmured, more to himself than her, as he massaged her scalp and rubbed in circles. 

"Papa...no," Eleven whimpered, her hands reaching up to her head and he gently pulled them away. She wanted to feel pretty again, Mike had said she was still pretty, but he wasn't here now to make her feel better. 

"Babies don't have much hair, Eleven, and we need it shorn for your tests," Brenner reasoned, as if it was completely normal and rational.  

Her face turned to his with an incredulous look in her brown eyes. Brenner frowned, rubbing a soapy thumb across her forehead.

"Close your eyes, Eleven. You don't want them to hurt, do you?"

She obeyed at that and sat still as he finished and then turned the water back on to begin to rinse her head. Her hands went up again, this time to to her ears as she tried to cover them from the barrage of water streaming down. He knew she was wary of water due to her past experiences in sensory deprivation, but this was just a simple bath.

"It's okay, Eleven."    

She was glad once her head was done and he put the shampoo away. Brenner grabbed an Ivory soap bar and rubbed it vigorously between his hands before rubbing her down, lathering her back and arms. He quickly ran a hand down her chest and felt a touch of uncomfortableness poke at him. Despite his best efforts at treating her infantile, her body was still advancing to puberty and it wasn't going to be a little girl's body anymore in a year or so.

Brenner took a washcloth and scrubbed her down as best and as fast as he could, then rinsed the soap off. Turning on the faucet again, he filled the bath up to Eleven's chest to make a full lukewarm bath. She sank into it slowly, water pooling up to her neck, and he was grateful she wasn't fighting it. 

He grabbed and plopped a canary-colored rubber duck toy into the water and she touched it with a finger and he could see the evident curiosity in her eyes for the new toy. 

"Go ahead and play for a bit while Papa gets your clothes," he told her, standing up to gather up her old diaper and sleep-suit on the floor before heading out the door. Eleven held the rubber ducky and squeezed it in her hand. She felt a sliver of happiness as the ducky sploshed around and squeaked, but as soon as the happiness came, melancholy trailed behind. 

Thinking back to watching Will with his family around the dinner table, Eleven felt a strange foreign sadness swell up within her. He had seemed happy and comfortable with them. It was like looking at Mike's sister Nancy's room and the perfect photographs on the mantle...Eleven didn't understand how she felt like she was missing so much about the world with being stuck here with Papa, who was being somewhat nicer, but she knew now she was different. Not normal. A freak. It scared her to think of Will's happy expression as he sat down next to his mom and how that could (would?) be all taken away if the Demogorgon, the Upside Down, or Papa's bad men got ahold of him again. She would hate for him to trapped in the same predicament she was now in...would Papa hurt him? Poke and prod him until he was blue? Or would he put Will in a crib like he had done to her? No, that wouldn't happen. Eleven picked up the ducky with a final squeak and threw it to the floor angrily. Why did she still feel a deep yearning for Papa's affection when he had done all these bad things to her, made her find the monster, and took her away from her friends? It was maddening. 

Cool air wafted into the room with a swing of the door and Brenner walked back in holding towels, a new diaper, and a white footed one-piece that had a tiny rainbows pattern all over it. Rainbows were somehow familiar to Eleven, but she couldn't place quite exactly why. She hated that it was getting harder to remember her fading past younger years.  

Brenner made a slight noise in his throat of disapproval as he saw her soaking wet ducky side down on the floor and he set her clothes down to retrieve it. 

"You don't have to reject everything I do for you," he chastised with a tone of hurt. When would she realize he was just trying to help her?

Brenner unplugged the drain stopper and the water slowly started to decrease around Eleven. As soon as it was a mere puddle under her, he pulled her up to her feet and helped her out of the tub into a towel. She quivered and he wrapped her tightly in the towel, giving her time to dry off before laying her down on the floor to affix her diaper. Eleven was used to the diapers by now, although she had to force herself sometimes to go into them with a cringe, but she was forgetting to feel what underwear had been like. Her new life, even more confusing than before, was becoming a startlingly dull routine as it had been for years before in the Lab. A different routine, but the same pace. 

She was grateful for the swaddling warmth of the rainbow patterned sleeper as Brenner put her into it over her diaper and pulled her up. She put her arms around his neck reflexively and he hauled her upwards to carry her out of the bathroom. Brenner took her back to her room's crib and she felt deflated knowing her bath was probably the most exciting event that would happen today. As usual, he put the bars up and exited the room without a word. 

Eleven's recent memories wandered back to seeing Will in her mind. Even though Will was back to being with his mother and brother, normal to them, but she knew he really wasn't. Mike wasn't normal and happy either.   

"What's wrong with you? What is WRONG with you?!"

Mike's voice, when he thought she had lied about Will being alive and didn't understand her, rang internally in her ears and she tried to hold back the sting of tears. Was she wrong? Was she wrong for letting Papa back in to control her life? She never really thought she was unique before she ventured out into the world and saw just how deprived of real life she was. Papa had told her many times how "special" she was and she still was, even with these new outfits, a crib to sleep in... but it couldn't be normal. None of her friends had talked about sleeping behind bars and going to the bathroom in their underwear. However, she sadly thought, she hadn't had the chance to know them for very long.

Eleven was different and being different felt like a disease that Papa didn't have the cure for. She sighed softly, laying down on her side, and stared at the colorful arches all over her body as a drop of water trickled, dripping down her cheek. Whether it was from the bath or from her own eyes, Eleven didn't care enough to know the difference. 

Chapter Text

January 8, 1984 12:00 PM

HNL

"So age regression, huh?"

Dr. Sam Owens walked along beside his new colleague of Hawkins National Laboratory, Dr. Martin Brenner, trying to keep up with the taller man's long strides down the hallway as they made their way to the girl's room. Subject 011, as Brenner had labeled her.  

"You can thank Sigmund Freud for the term. I'm using it as a form psychological treatment," Brenner replied.

"Well, I have to say this is a new approach. It seems rather unorthodox, but your methods usually tend to be a bit more extreme, don't you think?"

Brenner's mouth tightened. He'd worked with Owens for almost a week now since the calendar had turned to 1984 and he was already getting his patience pushed. 

"And let me get this straight: you've put a twelve year old girl in diapers and have her sleeping in a crib all because she was traumatized by that monster and you need to control her abilities with your father complex?"

Brenner side eyed him with a look that would make a common soldier stare down in shame. 

Owens shook his head, aghast. He glanced over at Brenner's roughly lined face. 

"That's one hell of a scar that thing gave you," Owens commented, gesturing to the ghost of a long gash down his face.

"It will fade over time." 

"You're lucky it didn't rip your face off."

"I was lucky."

"Lucky, I'd say! Your men must have fired 50 bullets at it!"

Brenner didn't reply, his mouth was set too much in a thin line and his jaw taut with tension. He was fortunate in his survival at the expense of his disposable agents. It was too bad about Connie Frazier, though. She'd been a good agent, impulsive yet effective, but he didn't miss their little verbal power struggles. She had been one of those women who clearly thought she had to 'wear the pants' in her profession and that had clashed sometimes with his own natural superiority. 

Now he had Dr. Owens to deal with personally and that was both a blessing for HNL, but a curse for his sanity. 

The two doctors reached Eleven's door and Owens joked:

"So has she been sleeping through the night now? I know it's rough with a newborn."

Brenner exhausted a sigh.

"Would you like to change her, if she needs it?" 

"Oh, no - that's alright, Martin!" Owens said quickly, waving off the notion with his hand.

Brenner smirked and unlocked the door. 

"I'll see you two very soon, then," Owens started off down the hall and Brenner stepped into the nursery. 

Eleven was sitting up awake in the crib and her head swiveled to meet Brenner's. 

"Eleven, today is a special day. Do you know why?" Brenner asked the question more to humor himself, as there was no way she could possibly know. 

Unsurprisingly, she shook her head 'no' and stood up in the crib, using the bars for support. 

He walked over and pulled down the rails and offered his hand to her. Eleven looked bewildered at that he wasn't going to pick her up to carry her, but she slowly put her hand in his as he guided her out of the crib and close to his side. They walked next to each other out the room and down the hallway, with Eleven feeling a twinge of queasiness in her stomach. When Papa said it was a "special day" it usually didn't mean it was a good special, at least for her. Her hand started to get clammy and Brenner clenched her fingers tight. She swallowed and focused on staring straight ahead. He led her to an standard examination room and went inside. Brenner shut the door behind him and Eleven went to the table, sitting down on the crinkly thin white paper, and breathed a tiny sigh of relief; at least she wasn't being put in restraints and straps this time. 

Brenner sat down beside her in a simple chair and told her to wait. 

A nurse came in shortly to weigh her and take her height. She then took a cuff and put it around Eleven's arm to take her blood pressure, squeezing the handheld pump quickly. 

"Good. 118 over 78," she stated, removing the cuff and rolling it up. 

"Dr. Owens will be in next," the nurse took the supplies and left the room. 

Brenner's watch ticked in the still silence and Eleven shifted with the crinkling underneath her.  

Within a few minutes, the door burst open again and a stocky, curly gray haired man with benevolent gray eyes came in holding a clipboard. 

"Hey, kiddo. How are ya?"

He smiled gently at her and glanced at Brenner.  

"Eleven, this is Dr. Owens. He's going to be helping me from now on and is just going to give you a little checkup today," Papa explained. 

Eleven swallowed again and hesitantly nodded. She was always wary of strangers, especially doctors, but this man didn't seem particularly threatening. 

Owens surveyed her closely and sat across from her in a chair, settling the clipboard in his lap and looked down at the attached papers.

"Looks like you've put on a few pounds since last year - that's good. Still slightly underweight, but that's nothing to be too concerned about."

Owens looked over at Brenner.

"She could be a bit more closer to an average weight for a child her age," he said, empathizing the word. 

"I'll slightly increase her milk intake," Brenner told him.

"Martin, I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that."

Owens turned back to Eleven and flipped through more papers. 

"Okay, kiddo. I have a big question for ya - what's your favorite animal? I hear you have a very special stuffed lion," Owens tried to make her feel more at ease with light chitchat as the nurse walked back in behind him. 

"Lion," Eleven repeated, fiddling with the snaps on her one-piece. 

Owens cast another look at Brenner. 

"You sure you haven't regressed her too much, Martin?" 

"Just carry through with the examination." 

Owens raised his eyebrows up a bit, but followed the order, shuffling through paperwork as the nurse brandished a needle after wrapping a tourniquet tightly around Eleven's arm and cleaning the area with an alcohol wipe to prepare the needle.

"The nurse is just going to take some blood, alright?" 

Eleven turned her head away to look at Brenner's face as the nurse inserted the needle into a vein and began to draw the blood. Papa smiled at her and Owens continued looking down at his papers. 

Once it was done and the nurse left with the blood samples, Owens draped a stethoscope around his neck and leaned forward, pressing the round cold metal to Eleven's chest and listening. He nodded after a few beats and pulled away. Eleven sat very still and stared ahead at the wall while he shone a bright light into her eyes, opened her mouth wide for a tonsil and throat check, and she tried her hardest not to squirm much as her ears were poked into. He checked her reflexes and made quick notes on a paper on the clipboard. 

"Looking all good and normal... The only thing I'd say is she could use just a little exercise, some movement around once a day to keep her body in check," Owens explained. He frowned at Brenner before continuing.

"It's not healthy for her to be stuck in that crib all day."

"I'll consider it." 

"It's not a suggestion, Martin."

"Well, I'm not taking her outside."

"I wouldn't think so this time of year. Awfully cold today. I had a heck of a time getting here this morning. We must've had eight inches overnight," Owens chuckled. 

Brenner wasn't amused. Was talk of the weather really necessary? However, upon hearing this news, he was glad he never left the Lab anymore.

Eleven's ears perked up at the mention of the outside world. She wondered what it looked like now...what did the trees look like? Would the ground be freezing under her feet? Could there still be stars up above? Her mind skipped with curiosity and dragged with resentment at Papa for keeping her life strictly inside the same dull walls over and over framing endless hallways and rooms. 

She must have appeared upset because Owens looked concerned and asked: 

"Feeling okay, kiddo? We're almost done here."

Eleven wiped her eyes and nodded. 

For the final time, the nurse came in and Eleven was laid down on her back on the table as the nurse attached a cap of wires with its familiar electrodes to her head and the monitor hummed beside her. 

Owens set the clipboard down and leaned forward. 

"Okay, let's see what's going on. I'm going to ask you some more questions, kiddo. Do you understand?" 

Eleven nodded again.

"Have you had any nightmares lately? Scary dreams?"

Eleven shook her head.

"How about visions? Seeing something that shouldn't be there?"

"No."

"Can you tell me if you've gone somewhere in your mind to look for someone? Your Papa here told me you found a boy last year," Owens looked at her closely and Brenner glanced at him, then at Eleven. 

She hesitated and thought of finding Mike and seeing Will in the bathroom, coughing out a slimy creature and the flash of the Upside Down. It still scared her and she had only observed it. Her brainwaves slightly jumped on the monitor and Owens noticed. 

"You can tell me, kiddo."

Eleven shook her head. It was true that she hadn't looked for anyone since seeing Will because she was simply afraid. Afraid of what she might find and afraid of Papa's reaction if he found out. 

Owens nodded with a sigh and made a few notes before turning to Brenner. 

"She's not seeming to have the same symptoms that he is. I hope he can tell us about his experience today."

Eleven stared at Dr. Owens. Was he talking about Will? 

"Is the mother cooperating now?" Brenner asked. 

"Oh, well you know Ms. Byers. We're trying our best to make this as easy as possible for her, but she's very reluctant to let us handle it. If all goes according to plan, they should be here in - "

Owens checked the watch on his wrist.

" - an hour from now. That's if the phone call went through to her. And-"

"We'll discuss this later," Brenner curtly closed the conversation with another glance at Eleven. 

Owens, taking the cue, then jumped to his feet with the clipboard, parted with Brenner, and went to exit. 

"It's been nice seeing you, kiddo," Owens smiled back at the girl and then opened the door.

"Oh, I almost forgot. Would she like some candy?" Owens fumbled in the pocket of his lab coat. 

"Just one," Brenner answered for her. 

"I still have Halloween candy leftover, can you believe it? My wife's trying to get me to cut back on sugar. Don't tell her about my stash of Mounds in the glove compartment," Owens grinned. 

Brenner's expression remained deadpan. Owens was clearly a man who was too good at making casual conversation. 

Owens pulled out a lollipop and held it out to Eleven. She took it gently from his fingers, the wrapper crinkling in her hand as she unwrapped it. So many things crinkled and she decided she was starting to quite like the sound of it. 

Brenner stood up and the two older men smiled down at her as she put the sweet, round red candy to her tongue. 

"She's a good girl," Owens remarked.  

"She is now," Brenner agreed with seeping satisfaction. 

Owens then left and Eleven took Brenner's hand as he took her back to her room. She sat down in the crib, occupying herself by sucking on the hard candy and Brenner left her alone. He had another patient to oversee, but this time from afar. 

1:30 PM

Dr. Owens stood outside watching the parking lot from above on the upper level of HNL, one hand resting on the cold metal and the other clenching the blue stress ball in his pants pocket. The air was bitter freezing and snow piled up in drifts up around trees and up to walls. The parking lot had been cleared earlier, but the weather station warned of more accumulation tonight. Owens hoped Joyce Byers would follow through with this. She had no idea Martin was the one actually orchestrating everything. For all she knew, Dr. Owens had replaced Dr. Brenner as Director of Operations and was going to be charge of her son, if she accepted it. He knew he had to somehow protect her from Martin Brenner. He'd seen the file on former patient Teresa Ives, who had produced Eleven, and other subjects from the 60s and it was safe to say Brenner did not have a good track record, especially with women... not to mention the children. 

Owens heard a distant rumble and then a Chevy police truck rolled into the lot and reared into a parking space. The door popped open and Chief Jim Hopper stepped out, slamming it shut behind him. Joyce Byers pulled up a moment after him and it was a few minutes before the green Pinto car doors opened. Will stepped out and Owens could see the anxiety on the boy's face even from here. Joyce looked unpleasant, to say the least. 

Owens ducked back inside the Lab and met Brenner in the hall. 

"They've arrived. The Chief's with her."

"Keep him in check and do what you need," Brenner instructed and went the opposite direction from Owens and walked briskly down the hallway. Owens took a breath and headed to the lobby. 

He could hear Joyce's protests and Jim's gruff responses before he entered. He didn't have time to focus on them; Will was the main concern here. 

"Hop, I really don't think this is what we should be doing! Will is fine, he's fine!" 

"Yeah, well the doctors don't share your same view, Joyce. We just need to get through this, alright?" 

"I just - God, Hop. I thought this was over. They're just going to make him relive being in that - that place all over again! It's not going to help my boy!" 

Hopper grunted and pointed ahead at Owens entering the room. 

"There's our guy, Joyce."

"Hey Chief. Ms. Byers. And this must be Will." Owens smiled at the boy who was standing slightly behind his mother with a look of apprehension. 

"If you would all just follow me and we can get this started." 

"Is this really necessary? Will's fine, he keeps telling me that he's fine," Joyce fretted. 

"Well, like I told you on the phone, Ms. Byers, this is simply cautionary. We just need to see how the side effects from his time in there may be manifesting," Owens explained. 

"What side effects?! The hospital told us everything was back to normal!" Joyce's voice was steadily going higher and higher in pitch and Hopper put a hand on her shoulder. 

"And that's why he isn't going to be seen by them. We have the expertise here and can understand the situation that no other hospital is going to accept. I'm sorry, Ms. Byers, but this is the only way."

"How should I know to trust you with my boy? Where did you even come from and how the hell do you what we went through last year? You weren't even there!" Joyce seethed anger and confusion.

"Joyce..." Hopper warned. 

"Isn't there someone else I can talk to?"

Owens shook his head. There was someone else she could speak to, but he was the last person she'd want to see. 

"I'm afraid I'm your best bet. I promise Will is in very capable hands here," Owens assured.

"Yeah, really 'capable hands' that lost their prize science experiment last year," Hopper muttered under his breath, but they all followed the doctor down the hall. 

"Here we go," Owens gestured to an open examining room and they entered inside. He left so Will could change into a hospital gown and then a nurse came in, with a couple scientists flanking her, and motioned Will to the weight scale. Will stood very still and watched the scale adjust to his weight. The nurse had him then sit down and lie back in a chair and took his blood pressure as she had done with Eleven. Will swallowed at the sight of the needle for the blood and trained his eyes on the flat gray ceiling above him. Everything about this room was cold, so clinical from what he was used to. It was missing all the colors he loved to draw with from his box of Crayola crayons and all the colorful adventures he imagined living out in his head. He couldn't imagine spending a lifetime inside here, in one giant suffocating box. The only place worse was the Upside Down.

Owens came back in after the blood draw and as the nurse was making little red dots around Will's forehead with a colored pencil, but this was far from being art. She attached electrodes on the dots, gently taping them down with careful precision. 

"Why does he need that? What are you doing to him?" Joyce leaned forward in the chair next to him and twisted her hands together. Owens glanced at her and he was really considering getting her a stress ball to calm her nerves. 

"We're just monitoring his neurological brain waves," Owens told her, taking a seat on a stool by Will, and glanced down at his clipboard papers. 

"Okay, Will. So tell me what's been going on with you. Tell me about how you've felt since leaving the hospital last year."

Will turned his head to Joyce and she rubbed her hand over his in comfort.  

"Honey, you don't have - "

He shook his head and looked back at Owens. 

"Well, I... I'm still seeing it, like I was back there," Will quietly started. 

"Back in the - what do you call it?" Owens asked.

Will swallowed again before answering.

"The Upside Down."

Owens nodded for him to continue, ignoring Joyce's wide eyes and taking note of the spiking brain waves. 

"I-I saw it all over again. The Upside Down, the dark and the vines all over everything. It was there, but I don't think it was really there. Like, like a..." Will trailed off, searching for the right word or explanation. 

"A vision or hallucination; seeing something with your eyes that's not actually there," Owens offered. 

"Yeah." Will nodded. 

"When did you have this vision?"

"Christmas Eve."

Joyce's face changed from surprise to suspicion as she recalled the evening. Owens didn't seem shocked, however. 

"Can you tell me where this was? Did you see the Upside Down at home, outside, a friend's house...?" 

"Home. In the bathroom."

Joyce let out a gasp and grasped her son's hand while Hopper shifted ever so slightly from his poise by the wall. 

"Why were you in the bathroom?" Owens prodded.

"I had to wash my hands. But I...I was feeling, I didn't feel..." Will stumbled over his sentence. 

"Feeling what? Feeling scared? Feeling sick?"

"Sick." Will confirmed and Joyce stared at him in confusion. 

"Nauseous sick?" Owens asked. 

"Yeah, like I was going to throw up. I looked in the sink and..." Will stopped, his face paling. He knew what happened next, the slimy slug that came out from him, that haunted his nightmares, but he was terrified to tell the doctor. Terrified to admit it to his mom that he had a piece of the Upside Down in him. What if he was becoming the monster?

"And?" Owens prompted.

"And then I just saw the Upside Down in front of me. The mirror, the walls, everything. It was there, then it was gone. That was it," Will told Dr. Owens. It was half-baked truth and Will felt some guilt for not telling the whole story, but he wasn't ready to discuss the slug creature out loud. He certainly couldn't even tell his friends.  

"That was it? And you didn't tell Mom what happened?" Owens glanced at Joyce who was displaying shock and still some anger. 

"I was scared."

Owens gave him a long look before finishing up his notes. The monitor beside Will was unplugged, the brain waves petering out, and the electrodes were removed. Owens gave Will a chance to get his clothes back on and then led everyone out of the room. 

"So that's it? You're not going to tell us what's wrong with my boy?!" Joyce exclaimed. 

Dr. Owens pulled her aside and Hopper shadowed behind her as Will stood in the middle of the hall, staring down and pretending to be very interested in his own shoes. 

Owens glanced from her to Hopper before speaking in a lower, calm voice.

"He's likely experiencing an aura effect and episodic PTSD from the trauma. If these hallucinations persist and happen frequently, I want you to contact me right away. I'll need to see Will once a month from now on, so we can track these episodes." 

"Oh, God...it was Christmas Eve, I should've known something was wrong when he left for the bathroom...why didn't I check on him? Why didn't he tell me?" Joyce was close to dissolving into complete crippling anxiety and Hopper kept his hands on her to steady her.

"He wouldn't be the first boy to keep secrets from his mother. What's important is that now we know and we can provide treatment if needed," Owens reassured her. He then dropped his professionalism a bit and spoke in a kinder tone. 

"Listen, Joyce. I myself have a son. I know what it's like to be a parent. I'm just as concerned about Will as you are, but I need you to trust me here. We want to help your son." Owens wanted to bite his own tongue. Trust me. Those were Martin Brenner's words and he felt wrong saying them. He did care about Will, but he hated to ask Joyce Byers, a mother, to put complete faith in him and this government facility.     

She seemed to be processing his words against her better judgement, but after a worried glance back at her son still standing alone several feet away, she finally agreed. 

"But I swear, if you or anyone here lay a hand on or hurt my son, we will NEVER come back to this damn place," Joyce spoke fiercely and Owens nodded quickly. 

"Of course, of course. You can count on us," Owens brushed over her statement. He needed to wrap this up before he felt like throwing his stress ball against a wall and crawling out his own skin. Martin was the one better at keeping his control and Owens couldn't do this much longer. 

He herded all three of them out to the entrance and patted Will on the back. 

"You did a very good job with all of that, Will. Now go enjoy that snow out there and try to stay warm," Owens grinned and Will returned him a small fraction of a smile. 

Joyce put her arm around her son's shoulders and steered him to the door while Owens bid goodbye to Hopper. 

"Take care, Chief-O." 

Hopper nodded and left as Owens stood in the empty space for a while before walking to the surveillance room where Brenner stood in front of the many screens, his arms crossed. 

"Did you get all of that?" Owens sighed and ruffled a hand through his hair. It wasn't even five o'clock yet and he was tired. 

"I'm going to review this footage and I expect a full report from you. I also need you to schedule an appointment for the boy for next month and to keep tabs on the mother and the Chief especially," Brenner told him.  

Owens shook his head. Couldn't he even just tell him 'good job'? 

But he took the orders and left the room. He was feeling less like a colleague and more like a soldier. For better or worse, he absolutely was the "schmuck" brought in to fix Martin's mess. And right now, after selling that "trust" promise - that he knew he wasn't going to completely fulfill - to a concerned mother, he felt a lot like a schmuck. 

Chapter Text

February 19, 1984

HNL

Dr. Brenner smoothed a hand over the colorful cover of the old, small hardback-bound book collection of classic nursery rhymes. He hadn't used this since Eleven was five years old... after the Terry Ives break-in and Eight had foolishly run away, leaving one confused little girl in his care who desperately needed a distraction. He had read the nursery rhymes to her over and over, yet she never seemed to tire of them and would happily repeat the lines back to him as she sat on his lap. When it came time to test her abilities, he used them to practice her remote viewing by having one of his men sit in another room, speaking the words aloud for her to listen to in her mind and then tell her Papa. She had been very good at it but now, from what he had gathered a few months ago, she barely remembered the rhymes. That was about to change today. Incidentally, he knew today was also technically the day of her birth, marked on the birth certificate he kept privately well locked away for his own records. Eleven didn't even know what a birthday was and it wasn't really necessary for her to know. Birthdays weren't for government test subjects, nor were they useful for his treatment of regressing her to an earlier state of mind. If Brenner told her she was now thirteen years old, it would disrupt her frame of mind if she understood it and that wasn't the goal here. No, it was much better for her to remain, from her perspective, ageless and act however he influenced her to behave. Unfortunately, his method was not going to completely stunt normal, healthy physical development, but there was nothing he could about that. He wasn't looking forward to her menstrual cycle and natural hormones starting (and the potential unforeseen effects that would have on her powers, which were tied to her turbulent emotions), but they would cross that bridge when they came to it. For now, she was still a child, more or less.     

Brenner couldn't deny that everything seemed to be coming full circle, for both him and her. He decided to rely on old methods from her childhood again because it would help in the regression and hopefully would work more in his favor. As much as he admired her growing strength, he realized that if he pushed her too far, it would only drive her from him. It was too much to risk, especially after she had proved last November that she was capable of escaping the Lab and rejecting him. She was stronger than he had projected, but perhaps now, with continual controlled conditioning and surrounding her with the past, she would be tethered to his side indefinitely. He would make sure she wouldn't survive on her own without him and would prove that no gang of preteen boys and the town police chief could take away the deep bonds he had with her. He had invested too much in her to see her fall out of his hands into the world and daunting future.  

Right from the beginning her life had been in his hands, even before she was born, as he had monitored her fetus closely from Terry's womb and he took pride in that he was responsible for pushing her existence into the world. Brenner vividly recalled the chaotic yet systematic day of her birth...

The way her newborn body had been so small and squirmy in his hands... her almost nonstop crying in the days, weeks, and months that followed. Her first word had been, naturally, "Papa" when she had reached up for his hand from the crib and cried out his name for the first time. He had spent time bouncing her on his knees and trying to bond with her without being completely attached, in the very slim chance her abilities would be underdeveloped and she would be a failure like many of his subjects had been. Of course he hated to doubt her, but a scientist had to consider all the options, and he had been prepared to do what was necessary. However, as she grew from baby to toddler, his instincts began to grow along with her and his impulse to protect her for she was fragile yet her potential was frightening. Although Eleven remained rather quiet and lagged behind in development, as her verbal and social skills were second to her abilities, she was a fairly fast learner and her powers were coming to fruition as she grew older. She was his soldier and his student. After all that growth, it was somewhat ironic that now it was time again to go back to the beginning with testing her abilities, but he had to go slow. 

Dr. Brenner wrapped his thoughts away to focus on the present as he turned around to set a full bottle of milk down on the sterile gray table along with the book of nursery rhymes. Eleven sat in a chair with her knees up to her chin, a cap of electrodes cradling her scalp, and blankly stared down at the items.

"It's time, Eleven," Papa spoke softly and gradually lowered himself down into a chair next to her. He placed a hand over her own and rubbed it gently. 

"Do you remember this?" He picked up the book, leafing through the pages. 

She didn't respond and just stared down at table. Brenner knew she was unhappy because he told her today was - finally - a "test day" and brought her the room she had used to crush cans and find his men. Evidently, it had left a negative impression on her, but he couldn't worry about that. Today was rather more just practice and he didn't know why she was so apprehensive when they had done this for years prior. 

"You can have your milk when you do this for me," Brenner bribed and that seemed to catch her attention. He'd purposefully withheld any food or drink, with the exception of a cup of water, from her all day. It was now the evening hours and he could tell she was aching for anything. He held up the bottle and shook it, the white liquid sloshing around inside and her eyes followed the movement. Brenner set the bottle down and pushed it a few feet away down the table and her face dimmed in disappointment.

"Be a good girl and you will get your milk," Brenner told her firmly before opening up the book again.  

"Okay, Eleven. I'm going to read you a nursery rhyme and I want you to repeat the words back to me after I say them. Can you do that for me?"

It took her a minute, but she nodded.

Brenner flipped to a page with a yellow faced clock and a mouse looking up below it and began to read aloud:

"Hickory, dickory, dock
The mouse ran up the clock.
The clock struck one
The mouse ran down
Hickory, dickory, dock."

He paused and looked up expectantly at Eleven, who was staring back at him with faint unspoken recognition. She took a breath before speaking. 

"Hick-ory... dick-ory, dock. The... mouse ran up the... clock. The clock... stuck one. The... mouse ran down. Hick-ory, dick-ory... dock," Eleven repeated rather slowly, sounding out the words on her tongue. Brenner frowned the slightest bit and hoped she would understand this task more; he was worried the regression may backfire if he went too fast.  

"That was pretty good, but let's try it again," Brenner moved his finger down to the last part of the rhyme and read:

"Hickory, dickory, dock
The mouse ran up the clock.
The clock struck two
And down he flew
Hickory, dickory, dock."

Eleven mirrored his words as soon as he finished, only slowing down with "hick-ory" and "dick-ory". He smiled and praised her:

"Good. Very good. I know those are hard words for you." 

She appeared relieved and her body relaxed a bit as she leaned forward to the table and put her legs down. Brenner showed her the illustration and pointed at the clock and then the mouse. 

"This is the clock and this is the mouse. Can you remember those?" 

Eleven nodded confidently. Pictures were easier than words. 

"Good. I'm going to go into another room down the hall and I want you to find me in here - " Brenner tapped her temple. 

" - And I will be pointing at either the clock or the mouse in the book. When you see the one I have my finger on, circle the word on this paper," Brenner indicated to a sheet of paper in front of him where he had scrawled the words "clock" and "mouse", one on top of the other in black ballpoint pen ink. 

"Do you understand?" 

"Yes, Papa." 

He nodded and stood up to leave with the nursery rhymes, walking to the door and shutting it behind him with a soft click. Eleven tensed and focused on where Papa would be, in another room that looked like all the others, and closed her eyes. It was harder without something to blindfold her, but she had to try. A minute or two passed and she found herself in the blackness with Papa before her, seated at a table with the nursery rhymes book in front of him. She came closer and peered down at it. His finger was pressed firmly to the clock illustration and she pulled out with a gasp of effort, her head aching slightly and a nosebleed threatening to trickle out. Eleven grabbed the pen and circled the "clock" word on the paper before her. Brenner came back a few minutes later and she looked up for his approval.  

"Did you see it, Eleven?" He went to sit down, glancing at the paper and grinned. 

"Very good. Very good, Eleven." 

She felt a familiar prick of happiness at pleasing him, even though some part of her wanted to bury the feeling. 

"Let's do another one," Brenner turned the page and a peculiar illustration emerged, showing animals she recognized: a cat, a dog, and a cow above the moon. Papa read aloud: 

"Hey diddle diddle, the cat and the fiddle
The cow jumped over the moon."

He smiled at her as she slowly echoed his words. 

"This is a silly one, isn't it? It used to be your favorite rhyme." 

Eleven murkily remembered enjoying something about a cat and the cow jumping the moon, but ever since Papa set a cat in front of her to hurt, she hated to think about cats at all. Her tummy twisted at the thought crossing her mind that he could try that "test" again with her and she knew she'd have to refuse, no matter the cost. She'd let him have his way with her since being taken back here, but there was no way she would let him try to force her to hurt something that wasn't going to hurt her. 

"Eleven?" Papa's voice snapped her eyes back up and she could tell he was wondering where her mind had wandered. 

"Are you listening?" 

"Yes, Papa."

"Okay, now repeat after me once I finish the rhyme."

"The little dog laughed to see such fun
And the dish ran away with the spoon!"

"The little... dog laughed to see such... fun. And the dish..." Eleven paused, frowning as her stomach grumbled to remind her that she needed nourishment. Brenner nodded at her to continue, but she felt herself losing focus. She didn't want to do these stupid tests anymore when she knew she could do much better and bigger if she had the freedom, but she felt Papa was confining her to what she already could do. She still didn't understand why Papa was treating her this way and why she was finding it harder to resist him the longer time went on.  

"Eleven." Papa sounded impatient and now she forgot the full rhyme. 

"The dog... and a spoon...?"

He stared at her with an unreadable expression and then looked down.

"Last rhyme for now, Eleven." Brenner landed on a page that showed a baby in a cradle and read:

"Rock-a-bye baby, on the treetop
When the wind blows, the cradle will rock
When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall
And down will come baby, cradle and all."

He waited for her words, but they didn't come. He heard a sniffle and glanced up, confused. Eleven had tears in her eyes and quickly rubbed her face with the back of her hand. She was upset from a simple rhyme? Brenner almost chuckled, but held it back to coddle her instead. He didn't want to dismay her now, when there was more progress to be made. 

"Oh, Eleven... it's just a made-up little story. You're safe here with your Papa."

She sniffled again and he thumbed her cheek, giving her a minute to calm down before closing the book and setting it aside. 

"Now let's try something a little more challenging, hmm?"

"O-Okay."

"I want you to find Dr. Owens. You remember him, yes?"

She nodded and closed her eyes. She thought hard of his face, hearing his voice calling her "kiddo" and pushed herself her mind farther away from this room and the surrounding halls. Farther to another level of the Lab, her intuition guiding her, and found herself in front of his desk. Dr. Owens was hunched over, scribbling on a pad of yellow paper. Eleven faintly heard Papa's voice calling back to her. 

"Eleven? Did you find him?" 

She nodded.

"Where is he?"

"Room."

"In his office?"

"Yes." 

The blood from her nose tickled and felt warm above her lip as Brenner made notes.

"What's he doing?"

She struggled to describe it and moved closer, but couldn't tell what exactly it was that he was writing or drawing. The desk started to dissolve and Dr. Owens was fading as Eleven strained to hold onto the vision, but it was falling fast away into the black depth. She came back to Papa with her eyes wide open and taking breaths to ground herself to the chair. It was so easy to get lost in the void of her mind. 

Brenner seemed a little disappointed, but nodded and made a few notes.   

"That's all for today." Brenner shut the book, standing up as a nurse then came into the room to remove the electrodes from Eleven's head. He reached over and handed the bottle of milk to her and relief crossed her face. He gathered the papers and left, taking the notes and nursery rhymes to his office. He set them down on the desk and grabbed a paper chart with a sheet of stickers along with a bundle of files from his cabinet, and walked back out, locking his door. Brenner met Dr. Owens in the hall and he shifted the files to under his arm. Owens gave him a curious look. 

"How did she do?" 

"Good enough. How was the boy today?" Brenner responded shortly, knowing Owens had met with Will Byers earlier for his second appointment. 

"Well, he claims to have no more visions. No nightmares, nothing. I hope he's right and maybe it's not as bad as we initially thought," Owens shook his head. 

"You can't be certain of that. Keep monitoring him," Brenner dismissed his colleague and made his way to Eleven's room.  

She had been taken back to her nursery by the nurse and he found her contently sucking down the milk in her crib. Her face followed his, reminiscent of a sunflower following the light, as Brenner set the files, except for the chart and stickers, down on a chair by the door and stepped over to the wall across from the door. He carefully taped up the chart to the wall, next to an old sloppy stick figure drawing of himself Eleven had done when she was only four years old, and turned around to show her the sheet of stickers.

"Eleven, these are your reward stickers. For every day you are good, you get a sticker," Brenner demonstrated by peeling off a shiny, golden small star and placing it on the February 19th box on the chart. 

"We'll use this for your potty training as well... if we ever get to that stage," Brenner murmured, realizing that the day - if it ever came - could be a while before he was ready to take her out of diapers. He took the stickers and went back to the files on the chair, picking them up before sitting down.   

Brenner waited patiently in the chair for Eleven to finish her milk, flicking through her old files with an attached collection of black and white photos inside documenting her beginning as a tiny newborn to a wide-eyed toddler to several unsmiling shaved headshots against a wall. His fingers drifted back to the toddler years. As a very young child, Brenner remembered (but was reluctant to really admit), she had resembled a miniature copy of her mother with her longer dirty blonde hair and a pout Brenner had seen too many times on the both of them. He liked to believe that as she grew and her shaved hair, brown in color, was reflective of his own brunette shade before his hair had lost its color. 

"Papa."

He was so absorbed in his viewing that he hardly heard her. 

"Papa!" 

Brenner glanced up briefly and then back down at the files. 

"Did you finish your milk, little one?" 

He heard a distinct dropping sound and Eleven had pushed her empty bottle through the crib bars and it was now rolling on the floor. 

Brenner closed the files with a sigh and stood up, bending down to pick up the bottle and left the room to hand off the bottle to a nurse for cleaning and he also returned the files to his office. As he stepped back out and down the hall, he could hear her calling out loudly all the way from her room:

"Papa! Papa! Papa! Papa...!"

Ah, yes. The part of fathering that sometimes annoyed him; the insistent demands of attention when he hadn't granted it. He hoped Eleven wasn't going to take too much advantage of this new system and cry just for the sake of it. 

Brenner entered through the doorway and saw her standing up in the crib, bouncing slightly on her toes. He came closer and it was obvious why she was demanding him. 

"I think someone needs a diaper change." 

He lifted her out and laid her on the cot. He bent over, his black tie dangling down and brushing at her nose and she reached up both hands and grabbed ahold of the silky fabric.  

"You were a very good girl today. Yes, you were..." Papa smiled down at Eleven as he changed out the diaper and cleaned her up. She offered him a rare smile and pulled his tie to her face and he cringed in surprise as she put the tip of it into her mouth. Eleven was behaving more infantile tonight; perhaps it was the nursery rhymes that triggered this attitude. Whatever the cause, Brenner was fairly grateful for at least she was cooperating and hopefully adapting. The past month she hadn't caused any trouble, but he was cautious if the regression was fully implemented into her, in case she was trying to fool him into thinking she was on her best behavior. If there was one lesson Brenner had learned in his life, it was to personally never truly trust anyone, even his own best subject and daughter.  

But he had convinced himself this was all worth it. Yes, he was having to pull at the same beginning threads of training with her and it was a longer road than he or any other scientist had expected, but it was worth it if she remained obedient and attached to him as any baby should be to her only parent, her father. 

Chapter Text

March 22, 1984 7:00 PM

BYERS HOUSE, HAWKINS INDIANA

The rapping knock sounded throughout the house as Joyce tried to arrange Will's scattered handful of birthday presents into a somewhat neat pile on the wooden kitchen table.  

"Coming...!" Joyce yelled over her shoulder, glancing at the clock before turning on her heel to go down the hallway to the front door. She wasn't sure who could be there, since all the boys had arrived a hour ago and Jonathan was busy setting up the table and making sure the birthday cake wasn't going to burn. It sure as hell couldn't be Lonnie; their divorce was settled and he was permanently restricted from seeing Will. As if he ever gave a shit about Will's birthday in the first place, Joyce thought bitterly.  

She swung the door open and was surprised to see Jim Hopper standing on her stoop, a cigarette hanging from his lips and holding a small, square shaped package (hastily wrapped with too much tape, Joyce noticed) in his hands. He straightened up and pulled the cigarette from his mouth.  

"Hey, Joyce."

"Hopper - I didn't think you were coming? I thought you had to work late?" 

He smiled and lifted up the package.

"I can't stay long. Just wanted to drop somethin' off for Will." 

"Oh Hop, that's really nice of you. Hang on and I'll get him." Joyce turned and walked quickly to the her son's bedroom, where he was showing Mike, Dustin, and Lucas new drawings he made based on their latest campaign for their D&D game.  

"Will, sweetie, there's someone at the door for you."

He looked slightly confused, but followed his mother and couldn't suppress a slight grin when he saw Hopper standing in the doorway. 

"Hey, kid. Got a little present for ya," Hopper smiled, handing it over to Will. 

"Mom, can I open it now? Please?" Will asked excitedly. 

"Of course," Joyce smiled down at him and rubbed his shoulders. He'd spent the last three hours celebrating over at Mike's with pizza and playing their D&D game, but she had wanted to invite his friends over for a modest party at home to round off the evening. Donald at Melvald's had been generous enough to let her take half the day off. He had been nicer to her ever since last year and she knew it was all due to everything that had happened to her family. She was extremely grateful that Will was here to actually have a birthday and it deeply frightened her that he could've never had another birthday ever again if there had been a worse outcome. Joyce watched her son, trying to hold back the emotions welling up in her eyes, as he tore off the brown wrapping paper to reveal a brand new 64 count box of Crayola crayons. 

"The 64 count! This is really great... I was running out of colors," Will exclaimed happily as he ripped off the outer plastic seal and rubbed his fingers over the vibrant cardboard, lifting up the flap to see a rainbow of wax tips. The comforting scent of the wax emitted from the box and Will smiled. Joyce gave him a little nudge and he looked up at Hopper.

"Thanks. I'll get a lot of use of out of them," Will clutched the crayons and grinned broadly. 

"Happy Birthday, kid." Hopper reached over and briefly ruffled his bowl cut before looking back to Joyce. She gave Hopper an appreciative look as Will ran off down the hall with the crayons back to his friends. 

"Thank you, Hop. You know, he sure goes through those pretty fast. I just got him a box for Christmas and he's already used them down to little stubs!" Joyce laughed and Hopper chuckled with her before an awkward silence fell between the two of them. 

"Well, I'm sure you probably should get going and - " Joyce spoke in a rush and glanced down, distractedly waving a hand to the gravel driveway. 

"Joyce."

"Yeah?"

"Everything okay?"

"Of course! Everything's fine. Will's really been having a good birthday and we're going to cut the cake soon," Joyce quickly answered, but Hopper could see the constant spark of stress behind her relaxed smile and the way her face tightened at the question. 

"You know, Joyce, if you want to just talk... you can call me," he offered and she nodded. 

"I know, I know. It's just I've been so busy lately and now it's Will's birthday already and the time's going pretty fast. I've been seeing Bob on my lunch breaks at work and he's been really nice to talk to - " Joyce paused and he could tell she slightly regretted telling him that last sentence. 

"So you can talk to Bob the Brain?" Hopper's tone tensed.  

"Hop, don't call him that and we're just friends. Friends. He's been really easy going about all of this," Joyce brushed off the speculation, but Hopper wasn't buying it. 

"Look, uh, I really should get back to the station. It's so busy and the guys sure need me there," he gruffly and sarcastically closed the conversation. Joyce cringed and looked away. 

"Mom, the cake's ready and we gotta frost it!" Jonathan shouted loudly from the kitchen and Joyce jumped. 

"You better get that," Hopper took sudden steps away from the door and down the walkway. 

"Hop..." Joyce started desperately, but he was already walking swiftly to his truck. She reluctantly closed the door and went down the hall. 

"I'm coming, Jonathan!" Joyce called back, her voice falling flatter than it had all day. She pulled a half smile up to her face and tried to push Hopper's words out her mind. She had to be happy for Will; this was his special day and she wanted absolutely nothing, especially her own mood, to ruin the moment. 

8:00 PM

HAWKINS LAB 

Eleven rolled over in her crib and rubbed her eyes in the dark of the room. Papa had put her to bed over an hour ago, but she still couldn't sleep. He kept putting her to bed early, earlier than she ever remembered from childhood, and after he had read to her from the nursery rhymes book he gave her a bottle of milk for the night. He'd been giving her a bottle for bed lately, even though she already had one this morning. It must be because he was so pleased with her lately, as shown by the colorful rows of star stickers all over her chart on the wall. Almost every day for the past month she was rewarded a sticker, except for one day when she just didn't feel like doing any tests and only found one animal with her mind from the cat-cow-dog nursery rhyme. Papa hadn't been too happy, but he didn't punish her and she was thankful because some of the nightmares she'd been wresting with every other night were punishment enough. The Demogorgon kept leering at her and chasing her through dark tendril filled tunnels with no ending... or her running after Mike and crying for him, but he was looking back at her with pure terror in his eyes, as though she was the monster. Eleven would wake up in a sweat, her diaper all sticky, and her stuffed lion tangled up down at her feet. She was afraid to tell Papa or Dr. Owens and tried to forget the bad dreams during the day, but there was little to think about when she was alone in her room. Thinking of her happier times outside the Lab with Mike were being tainted by the night and time was fuzzing her memories. 

Now she was struggling to sleep again, mostly in fear of the predictable nightmares, but there was something else nagging at her. She wanted to see Mike - not the frightened one in the bad dreams or the disappearing one from the void - but the real Mike. He was still out there, not very far away, yet she felt so distant from him. Eleven closed her eyes and inwardly flooded her brain with everything she could recall about him. Maybe if she thought of positive memories of him, that would drive the nightmares away and help her sleep. She imagined his gentle voice beside her and how it escalated when he yelled at his mom... He had tried so hard to protect her and not like Papa's controlling protection. She loved the way he shyly called her "pretty" and every time he called her "El"... his hands clasped around his walkie-talkie... his floppy dark hair and all the light dots speckled on his face... and his soft wet quick kiss after asking her to the "Snow Ball". She wondered when that would happen. Maybe it already happened and she wasn't there. The sadness shoved into her and she felt herself slipping into darkness, perhaps finally to a dreamless sleep. 

Eleven peered around in confusion and in surprise at the blackness that wasn't sleep. The water pooled under her feet and she realized she'd gone into the void without even intending to consciously make an effort. She squinted at the ghostly scene manifesting several feet before her and a ripple of joy coursed through her when she saw Mike come into view. It wasn't the dream or past Mike, but in the present... right now before her, even though he wasn't really here and he couldn't see her. He was seated at a familiar table and Eleven thought back to where she'd seen it before. It was Will's table from her last vision! Eleven smiled upon recognizing it and looked around, noticing a grinning Lucas and Dustin on either side of Mike, and Will opposite him with a chocolate frosted cake topped with bright flaming candles in front of him. Will's name and the number 13 was messily scrawled in bright red frosting on the top of the cake. Eleven blinked at a flash illuminating the scene and saw Jonathan with his camera again as Will smiled sheepishly and their mom hovered behind him.

"Alright guys, it's time to sing!" Joyce announced and all at once everyone sang loudly: 

"Happy birthday to you!

Happy birthday to you!

Happy birthday dear Will...

Happy birthday to yoooou!"       

Lucas exaggerated the "you" and Dustin did a goofy face at the end from across the table as Will blushed behind the warm flickering flames.

"Make a wish, baby," Joyce encouraged. Will paused, thoughtful, and Eleven cocked her head as she tried to figure out what was happening. She saw that Mike was smiling, but there was something sad about it and he looked away as Will suddenly puffed and the candles blew out, the flames turning into gray smoke. Everyone clapped and Joyce leaned over to pull the spent candles out before taking a knife and slicing up the cake. 

"Jonathan, this looks perfect. I thought we had the recipe wrong, but it came out moist... it's so moist!" Joyce exclaimed, putting a ample chocolate triangle onto Will's plate. She passed around paper plates and gave the boys all a slice. 

"I'll take a big piece, please," Dustin requested. 

"Yeah, like you didn't eat a whole pizza earlier," Lucas pointed out. 

"No, I didn't! I even offered some to Nancy, but she didn't even take a slice, as usual. And it was sausage and pepperoni!" Dustin rolled his eyes. 

"Ooh, Nancy, your girlfriend..." Lucas teased. 

"She's not my girlfriend and you're just jealous 'cause you don't have a high school girl to crush on," Dustin retorted. 

"Ugh, I am not!" Lucas feigned disgust. 

"Are to!"

"No way!"

"Shut it, Lucas!" Mike snapped loudly. 

"Hey guys... be nice, okay?" Joyce reprimanded and gave Dustin a slice just a fraction smaller than Will's. All the boys quieted and dug in after Will took a bite and they joyfully chowed on the cake as Jonathan put the candles in the sink before sitting down next to Joyce with his own slice. She shared a look of relief with him before picking at her piece of cake. 

Eleven blinked again and felt herself struggling to retain her strength to keep seeing. She walked closer to Mike, wanting to reach him, but suddenly all of them dissolved into the void, drifting away in smoke out in the same fashion of Will blowing out his candles. Eleven screamed for Mike, but only the black void could hear her. 

Eleven pulled out of her head, gasping with exhaustion as warm, wet blood streamed down to her lips. She wiped her nose on the back of her hand, leaving a dark smear on her skin that was impossible to disguise. Papa would know she'd seen something, she had been listening, and had been somewhere in her mind. She hated that she had to look, knowing the price that she would probably pay for her curiosity. It made her angry though that so much of her vision was confusing to her. What even was "birthday" and why did Mike seem not all that happy? She knew he must still be missing her terribly and she couldn't be there to tell him everything was alright. A tremble shook her and she started to sob, but there was no sense in sadness. A plain rage began coursing through her veins. She was sick of these walls, fed up with being confined in this crib all the time. Eleven burst up to her feet, crying uncontrollably as the room's light began flickering on and off. The sticker chart flew off the wall and the drawings too, a flurry of papers swirling around the room. She stared hard at the bars of the crib, ready to hear the wood snapping like the necks of the bad men. She didn't even have the time to feel guilt or fear for her actions... she just couldn't take this anymore. 

Just down the hall, Dr. Owens was bidding goodnight to Dr. Brenner and giving him the day's status on the infiltration of the other dimension in lower levels of the Lab. 

"You cleared the contamination site?" Brenner asked. 

"Yes, just after we took some more samples. I'm not sending any more guys in there until we figure out just what we're dealing with," Owens replied. He paused, glancing at the floor with a frown, and then looked back up to Brenner.

"Martin, you don't think this stuff could be radioactive, do you?" 

"It doesn't seem to be, but we don't know the full effects it could have on the average human survivor." 

"Yeah, well I don't know if - " 

A audible sound like large tree branch breaking cut his sentence off. Owens stared wide eyed at Brenner and then both men turned to look down the hallway to the source of the sound.  

"What the hell was that?!" 

"I have an idea," Brenner uttered under his breath, striding down the hall as more snapping and crashing could be heard. A loud thump startled both doctors, but Brenner still went straight without caution to Eleven's door.

He unlocked it and stood in the doorway of Eleven's nursery and was astonished to see the resulting damage. The lights were strobing on and off, brightly illuminating the fact that the changing cot had been overturned along with the supply table; her diapers, clothing, and cleaning supplies were in disarray, along with her drawings and the sticker chart, all littering the floor. Brenner finally looked to her in the - now absolutely broken - crib. The bars were splintered and snapped in half as if a wild animal had gnawed them apart. She was staring out at him through the bar-less gap with a fury on her face he'd never seen before. If he'd been a weaker man, it would have sent shivers down his spine as much as seeing a monster in human flesh. 

"Oh, Christ," Owens swore behind Brenner and he heard his quick footsteps retreat to get the guards. There was the weaker man. 

Eleven heaved a breath and he saw the lower half of her face was slathered in her own blood and glistening wet with tears. Her stuffed lion was slowly rising up out of the broken crib by her use of telekinesis and stopped midair next to her head. He could see the strenuous effort she was exhibiting and knew it wouldn't be long before she collapsed. 

"Eleven..." Brenner warned carefully. 

She flicked her head to the side and he barely had time to blink as the lion hurtled towards him and the soft toy smacked him in the face. It dropped to the ground with a flop and only a second later, Brenner winced as her milk bottle flew out and banged into his nose. He reached up to touch his face and looked back to Eleven in slight shock and outrage. 

"I HATE YOU, PAPA!" Eleven screamed at him with every last ounce of strength she could muster. 

The guards suddenly came around Brenner and went to her. She fainted just as they reached her and the two strong men roughly pulled her out of the crib, scrapping her arms on the jagged broken bars and dragging her by her wrists along the floor, her head lolling from side to side. Brenner stared down in disappointment at her, his back stiffened and ridged, fists clenched at his sides. She was taken down the hall and out of sight. A deathly quiet hushed over him and Owens as the light then finally blinked out. 

"Now what?" Owens asked, sounding out of breath. 

Brenner took a long moment before quietly speaking. 

"I thought she was ready to finally cooperate with me. I guess not."

"But she's been well behaved all month and the last. Why the hell did she decide to suddenly throw this - this fit?"

"No, something... or someone triggered this temper tantrum," Brenner's quiet anger underlined his words, but he remained as calm as he could to be an example of professionalism.  

"I'm afraid it's time for the next phase," Brenner decided, walking away from Owens with a stilted posture towards the end of the hall. 

Owens watched him with worry and resignation because he knew whatever Brenner had in mind, he would be unable to be able to talk him out of it and he had to go along with the plan, no matter how insane or cruel it could possibly be. When would Martin realize that he was creating someone who was eventually going to be uncontrollable and this Lab might not hold her any longer? All his other subjects were deceased or had escaped and that said a lot about his methods. 

Owens sighed. Why the heck did he take this job again? Not even the empty, echoing halls could answer that inquiry. 

Chapter Text

April 2, 1984 10:00 AM

HNL

Eleven tried to move, but couldn't. She was able to wiggle, but that was about it. Everything was so white; the room that held her inside its walls, the straight jacket, her one-piece outfit, and the gauzy textured blanket surrounding her that was swaddling her too tightly, pinning her legs together, and forming a bind around her entire body. Her whole existence now was just hazily dozing through the days and waking up in a daze, only to be fed and changed by Papa and the nurses who came in throughout the many long hours, but besides that she was simply stuck. For the past week or so, she had been completely confined to this small dingy room, sleeping on a few gray mats pushed together on the floor and wrapped up in these garments, fading in and out of consciousness as she often did lately. She had faint dreams of Mike, but Papa's face swam in and out more often than she wanted him to, along with endless blank corridors and she forgot which were only dreams and which were reality. Her head felt too heavy to lift by herself and her body felt stiff and sore from being in a constant cocoon of wrapped white. Eleven faintly heard the click of the door and turned her head with effort to see Papa walking in with an exasperated Dr. Owens shadowing him. 

"We're losing progress, Martin."

"It's only temporary. We have time. Eleven has a lifetime."

Owens shook his head as Martin reached around behind him to shut the door to her temporary room as the "nursery" was being redone and they were waiting on a new crib being constructed. This room's confinement was what Martin had deemed the "newborn phase" for Eleven. He promised it would be only temporary restricted movement for a couple of weeks, assisted with a mild sleep-inducing sedative infused into the milk she was solely fed, enough to make her sluggish and groggy both mentally and physically. He believed she would be less likely to have another outburst if she was docile and it would trick her brain into thinking that she really is his "baby". Owens had been, quite literally, standing on the sidelines throughout the whole process, trying to understand Martin's method to his madness, but at the same time not wanting to truly comprehend his tactics.

"You wanted her to gain some weight." Martin spoke so calmly in the face of such a preposterous circumstance, it was actually quite maddening. 

"Not like this! You know I only ever said that in the first place because she was clinically underweight for her age, but you've taken it too far this time." 

"Eleven only brought her own consequences upon herself. She needs to accept it."

"No, she doesn't! You need to accept the fact that she's just not an infant anymore!" Owens turned to the door and yanked the knob, storming off out of the room in a huff and slamming the door after him. It was only another one of their several small arguments of the past week and Brenner looked down with a sigh to Eleven on the floor as she sniffled and began to cry. He bent down next to her and cradled her cheek in his palm, shushing her noise. 

"Shh, shh... Papa's here now."

He glanced up at a nurse hovering nearby with a bottle of milk and then back at Eleven's red, scrunched up teary face. 

"Time for some more milk."

The nurse handed him the bottle and he pushed it into Eleven's mouth to quiet her. She sucked greedily; he could tell she was starting to crave the taste of the milk, as it was sweeter than water, and filled her tummy up. She wasn't used to having a full belly and it was affecting her. Her eyelids starting dropping in weak, fuzzy contentment and sleep was stepping ever sooner, so he waited patiently as she drank. However, her stomach soon gurgled uncomfortably and she struggled to sit up. When that was realized impossible, her hands instinctively twitched, wanting to to reach up and push the bottle away, even though her arms were bound to her chest, but yet he held it closer to her. 

"Finish the bottle." Brenner spoke softly, frowning as she started to quietly gag and he supported the back of her head. 

"Dr. Brenner, she's going to spit up." The nurse stated, kneeling down with a cloth.

Brenner hesitated for a few moments while Eleven's throat spasmed and he pulled the bottle away from her mouth as she sputtered and and then spat up, spraying a dribble of milk right onto the front of his suit and splattering his dark colored tie with creamy white. Eleven coughed and Brenner glanced down unpleasantly, grabbing the cloth from the nurse to hastily wipe himself down. 

"I warned you..." The nurse shook her head, almost amused, and took the bottle from his hand to the sink. 

"Now that she's put that out of her system, fill it up again," Brenner instructed as he held Eleven's head firmly in his grip, her head resting in the crook of his arm. 

"Dr. Brenner, she's had already had enough dosage today." 

"I said to fill it up," Brenner snapped, irritated. How hard was it for a woman to follow simple instructions?

"Yes, doctor." The nurse reluctantly poured the milk and sedative mixture into the plastic bottle and handed it off to him. Brenner put the tip back to Eleven's mouth and, with no choice, she sucked again. 

"That's a good girl," Brenner rubbed her fuller stomach as she fell asleep halfway through the bottle and he pulled it away to give back to the nurse and wiped her mouth with another cloth. 

"You're a good girl, aren't you? You're never going to hurt your Papa ever again, are you Eleven?" He murmured and stroked her cheek. He then stood up to go remove his soiled shirt and tie, replacing them with new and clean ones. By the time he came back, she had already automatically wet herself. Brenner slowly unwrapped Eleven, undoing the straight jacket, unbuttoning her one piece sleep-suit, and removing the wet diaper as she lay collapsed on the mats. He wiped her down and changed her into a fresh diaper, securing the tabs, and putting her body back into the suit and blanket. As he finished, he took her wrist, instinctively feeling her pulse, before he then picked out a flexible hospital ID bracelet from his pocket and affixed it around her non-tattooed right arm. It had a small, red tracking sensor on it that would set off all the Lab's alarms if she wandered too far on the premises.

011, ELEVEN    SEX: F    DR. MARTIN BRENNER    HNL    286305993465

He should have done this years ago; her old tattoo wasn't enough identification on her. This now served as a solid reminder to Eleven and everyone who saw it exactly who she belonged to. It cemented the fact that Brenner owned her and she wasn't her own independent person. She never would be. The new phase was deviating slightly from his plan, but many of his experiments went straying from the original desired outcome and that's what made his life's work purely... well, experimental. Brenner figured it wasn't so much whatever the path was, it was the destination that mattered. Eleven needed to forget everything she knew from her brief time outside his facility and she only needed to put her trust and longing into one person: her Papa.

Before she came to a few hours later after her tantrum and he had her outfitted, he had reviewed the security footage of her in the crib. Even though the dark of the room made it more difficult to see exactly what had transpired, it was clear to him she had wandered again into the depths of remote viewing and had found someone in her mind. He saw her wake up sobbing, her nose bleeding, and the way she tried to hide it by wiping the blood on her hand didn't fool him. When Eleven had regained consciousness in the other room, Brenner had forced her to draw on paper what she had viewed in her mind and Eleven had drawn the same small stick figure, labeling it "Will", and a round shape with points sticking up out of it. After some squinting, for he had never really been much of an artist himself and found art to be mostly confusing to decipher (especially from a child), Brenner decided it had to be either a crown or a cake. It didn't really matter what it was, however, because she had once again made the boy known to her. What was so special about this boy? If Brenner's assumption was correct, he had to keep her away and in the dark from him. He wasn't remarkable like Eleven and of course he wasn't. Outside of acute sensitivity to the other dimension, that was all that he was showing, based on Dr. Owen's findings of the past few months. He was just a boy she made contact with, wasn't he? Or was he more of a distraction than Brenner had estimated? Was he clouding her viewpoint and did she actually have some sort of... emotion for him? Eleven had to stop caring about those she had met outside and Brenner was going to make sure he was all that would ever matter to her. Couldn't she see that at least? That he was to credit for her ability to use her powers? That he didn't have anyone else in his life that mattered like she did to him? It had to count, it would count.  

He was going to make sure she was as needy as a newborn and her dependence on him would hopefully later prove, more to herself than him, that she desperately needed her Papa. When she had been an actual baby, he used to be her whole world that she revolved around day and night, even when he wasn't there 24/7 to take care of her; that was for the nurses he paid to do for him. Today's situation was only a replica of the past, but he knew he could rekindle that natural instinct in her and only he was only there to give her that primal satisfaction. 

"It will be much easier if you just don't fight me." Brenner recalled reminding her, hours after her damage was done in the nursery, and she had whimpered and struggled as he had walked away to leave her to be sedated and swaddled by nurses. 

12:00 PM

MELVALD'S GENERAL STORE, HAWKINS INDIANA

Joyce Byers frantically dialed up the phone and waited anxiously for Hopper to pick up, twirling her fingers impatiently around the cream colored cord. Finally, after several rings, he picked and gruffly grunted a "hello", sounding like he just woke up. 

"Hop, listen to me - "

"Joyce? That you?" 

"Yes, Hop it's me. Listen, there's been an accident at work."

"What happened?" Hopper's voice jumped into something much more alert and serious. 

"Donald tripped over this pile of boxes right by the door in the storage room that I don't remember being there this morning and he fell. I think he might've broken his ankle or foot, I don't know. There's an ambulance outside right now taking him to the hospital and I have to manage the store for the rest of the day. Jeffery's still out sick and Will's appointment is today and I can't take him in myself and I was wondering if you could take him?" 

There was a pregnant pause on his end as Hopper processed Joyce's deluge of information. 

"...Yeah, I can take him." Hopper sighed audibly and Joyce breathed a sigh herself, but one of obvious relief. 

"Oh, Hop, thank you."

"I'll come check on you after it's over and I drop him off back at school, okay?" 

"Okay, but just make sure you see him go into the school and don't leave right away. Wait 'till the doors close all the way and maybe if the principal's there - " 

"I know, Joyce." Hopper assured her and then hung up to throw some clothes together on his body with his gun and headed out the door to pick up Will at Hawkins Middle School. 

1:00 PM

HNL

"Joyce Byers handling things okay?" Dr. Owens asked causally as they went through the same standard routine with Will's check-up and Will repeated the same lines he had for the past few months that he hadn't had any more visions or nightmares.

"Yeah, how did you know?" Hopper frowned. 

"Well, I've got a lot of friends, Chief, and it's a small town."

"It just happened at noon."

"News travels fast, what can I say?" Owens shrugged and avoided his eyes. Hopper stared at the doctor and mentally clicked the scenario together. 

"Hang on. Joyce said there were boxes that weren't there before in the storage room when he fell. I bet you goddamn bastards caused Donald to fall, didn't you? You wanted Joyce to be tied up at work, so she couldn't be with Will for this check-up!" 

"Now, now there's no need to accuse anyone here. It sounds like it was just an unfortunate accident and I'm sure her manager will be alright," Owens laughed with a hint of nervousness that Hopper didn't miss one bit. 

"Joyce has done everything you've asked of bringing Will here every single month. What the hell are you guys so afraid of, huh?" Hopper asked as Owens cleared his throat and gathered up Will's paperwork. 

"Let's head out, shall we?" Owens said, brushing off the Chief's question and stood up to exit. 

Hopper swore under his breath and walked close behind Will as they walked out of the exam room. Dr. Owens led them down the hall and suddenly he indicated to Will to step inside another examination room, but this one was smaller and had very little equipment in it.  

"Mind waiting outside for a bit, Chief? Just for privacy as we do a full exam?" Owens ushered Hopper to the side as Will, his face pale and unsure, quickly was led into the room by a white coated scientist. 

"Yeah, I do mind. What the hell is this? What're you going to do to him?" Hopper angrily pushed against Owens and tried to follow Will, but a couple pairs of arms wrapped tightly behind around him as security guards held him back. 

"Hey!" Hopper struggled and his arm tried to get to his holster, but a guard plucked his pistol out and held the barrel to Hopper's own head. 

"Okay, that's enough. Just take him away for a while," Owens turned away and casually waved a hand down the hall and the guards obeyed, dragging a loudly protesting Hopper out of sight. Will stared in fright, but he didn't have time to run after him and he felt like his tongue was glued to the roof of his mouth, so he let himself be herded into the room and seated on the table. Will waited patiently on the crinkly paper, but it was very nerve wracking once Owens left and he was alone. His mouth turned dry and his fingers tapped up and down on the table. Finally, after what felt like hours, the door opened and Will looked up, up, and up at an imposing tall man with frosted white hair and cold eyes set on a lined, scarred face. He was holding a brown clipboard and smiled down at him, but the toothy grin looked forced and creepy. Will leaned back and he wanted so desperately to run. Was this the "bad man" Mike had mentioned? The weird doctor who ran Hawkins Lab and had been on the hunt for the girl Eleven? Wasn't he the one who, according to Mom, left Will to die in the Upside Down? Did he have Will's fake "dead" body placed in the quarry as a cover-up? Will shivered even though the room was temperate. 

"Hello, William Byers. Do you know who I am?" The doctor's smile faded slightly and he glanced down to the clipboard. 

Will couldn't even move a muscle; he felt purely paralyzed. No one ever called him William unless it was something serious, bad.  

"My name is Dr. Brenner. I'd like to ask you a few questions today. Would that be alright?" The man continued as he flipped through papers on the clipboard. It was funny; for a frightening man he spoke so normally. 

I'm Will the Wise. I don't have to be afraid of this man. He's just another doctor and he's not after me, Will said to himself in his head, trying to convince his fear. After all, Dr. Owens wasn't scary and nothing really bad had happened to Will in this place, no matter how off-putting it seemed both inside and out. Maybe this was just a new part of the routine appointment.

"Okay," Will choked out.  

"Do you recognize this girl?" Brenner went right to the point, producing a snapshot from the clipboard and held it in front of Will's face. An unsmiling girl's face with wide eyes and a shaved head stared hauntingly back at him. 

"Eleven?" Will couldn't stop himself; he had immediately recognized her. After all, there weren't many girls around Hawkins, Indiana with shorn hair and who had come to his side in the Upside Down. Her words of encouragement from his mom to hold on a little longer in there were what saved his morale. Was she still missing? Mike had said she was gone, but Will knew he didn't really believe it. A best friend didn't spend every night glued to a crackling walkie-talkie if he was looking for nothing. Mike was acting different from what Will could ever remember and it saddened him to see Mike so obsessed with this girl. Mike kept telling him that she had superpowers and superheroes always came back to save the day, didn't they? Or, as Will himself wondered more than Mike could bring himself to, was Eleven really gone for good after all?

"She's not what you might have been told to be." Brenner's grimly told him, but Will caught the present tense. 

"Eleven's alive? Is she here?" Will's voice rose in surprise and shook with realization. Wait until Mike knew about this! 

"Answer my question."

"I-I don't know where she is. I haven't seen her." 

"Of course not..." Dr. Brenner murmured and clipped the picture back to his board. He looked back to Will with a scrutinizing expression.  

Will looked down at the table. What did the doctor mean by that? 

"Tell me, William... Why does Eleven have an interest in you?"

"Wh-what? I don't know what you're talking about."

"She has seen you. In the other dimension."

"Yeah, well - I mean it was just once and she said my mom was coming." Wills eyes started to water and he looked away. He really didn't what to talk about this in front of this unfamiliar, intimidating doctor. 

"What does she want with you? What else has she told you? What have you been telling her or those around you?" Brenner interrogated and Will started to sweat. 

"I-I don't know. I only talk about what happened to me to Dr. Owens and to my mom sometimes."

Brenner stared at him for much too long and then nodded, putting the clipboard down and slowly reaching into his coat pocket. He pulled out a small, gun-like object.  

"Do you know what this is, son?" 

Will stared with wide eyes at the little black device being clutched firmly in Dr. Brenner's fingers.

"If I turn this on, it will give 50,000 volts of electricity to your body. You would be rendered paralyzed and in the worst pain you've ever felt in your short life. That doesn't sound very fun, does it?" 

Will swallowed, the hairs raising in synchronization on the back of his neck, and shook his head from side to side vigorously. 

"Now I won't have to use this if you promise to be a good boy and keep hush about all of this. No telling anything to your mother or anyone outside these walls, understand?" 

Wills face was painted in a pained expression, but he nodded. 

"Good." With that last word, Brenner left, opening the door to a couple of guards that came in to lead Will out. 

On another level of the Lab, Owens stood watching the grainy surveillance and Brenner came in to stand next to him. 

"I don't appreciate threatening a thirteen year old boy with electroshock, Martin."

"It won't make him talk and that's what we want, isn't it?" 

"Well, yes, but..." Owens trailed off. What was the use in arguing?

"It will work and I don't want to hear you complaining, Sam." 

The two doctors glanced over in unison to another screen showing Will and Hopper leaving in the parking lot before Brenner quietly excused himself to go check on Eleven once more. 

2:30 PM

MELVALD'S GENERAL STORE

The door jingled and Hopper stepped in, removing his tan hat, and carefully put on an expression that wouldn't give away his shook up anger. 

"Hop! Did everything go alright? Is Will back at school? Did you see him go in and the doors close?" Joyce came quickly up to him with several boxes of light bulbs spilling over in her arms. She dumped them down on the counter and grabbed the price sticker gun.

"Yeah, it's fine. The kid's safe." What bullshit. Hopper wasn't sure anymore about anyone in this town being so-called safe. 

"Thanks for taking him. I just got off the phone with the hospital and it looks like Donald's going to be in a cast for several weeks. I hope to God Jeffery comes back and I can get some help running this place. It's so hard to find people to hire; I wish the high school kids would put in some time here instead of all working at that arcade or the movie theater down the street instead. Did you know I heard talk of Mayor Kline signing a development contract for a bunch of new businesses, maybe even a mall? Hawkins with a damn mall? We might have to go out of business if this keeps up..." Joyce chatted on and Hopper barely heard her after Donald's name. 

A jingle interrupted Joyce's rant and Radio Shack's Bob Newby came in with a brown paper bag in his hands. 

"Bob!" Joyce went straight to him and her face brightened. 

"Hey there, Joyce. I saw an ambulance outside earlier and wanted to make sure everything's okay. I brought some sandwiches," Bob's earnestly concerned face annoyed Hopper for some reason. Even worse was Joyce's radiant smile at Bob as she accepted the bag. He couldn't remember the last time she looked at him like that. 

She explained the situation over again to Bob and Hopper put his hat back on, quietly excusing himself and left the store. It hardly mattered, as Joyce didn't even notice. Bob the Brain getting the best of him again. Hopper rubbed the bridge of his nose, feeling a throbbing headache coming on. He needed to go somewhere to think... and maybe he could use a beer, too. 

Chapter Text

April 6, 1984 5:00 PM

BYERS HOUSE, HAWKINS INDIANA

Will dropped his No. 2 pencil onto the pad of paper he was drawing on as he heard a sudden rumbling and the distinct crunch on gravel outside. He jumped up and rushed to the window to see Hopper's police truck pull up and park in front of the house. Curious, he went to open the front door and the Chief stood there, a look of seriousness written in his eyes. 

"Hey, kid. Your mom still at work?" 

"Yeah. Is something wrong?" 

"No, nothing's wrong. I just - I wanted to talk to you about what happened on Monday," Hopper spoke low and gruffly, glancing around the house and yard.  

"Oh." Will swallowed. He meant the Lab appointment that Will had refused to say anything about in the truck on the ride back to school that day. It was the last thing he really wanted to talk about right now, but he trusted Hopper.  

"Um, okay. I guess so." Will pulled the door open wider and stood back to let him into the house, but Hopper shook his head.

"Not in the house. Let's go to my truck in case someone's listening." 

Will frowned and followed Hopper to the Chevy and took the passenger side, feeling slightly nervous. Hop rolled up the windows and locked the doors before taking a breath and exhaling loudly before starting.

"It's my job around here to keep Hawkins safe, to keep your home safe... and to keep you safe. But, you know, I can't do my job if you won't tell me what's going on. I know somethin' scared the hell out of you at the Lab a few days ago and I need you to tell me exactly what they did to you." Hopper struggled to keep his voice even. 

"I..." Will's voice died in his throat and he wasn't sure where to start. How could he say this? That the super-powered girl, Eleven, was maybe still out there and alive? That the doctor even thought Will had been in contact with her? That this creepy doctor, the same one who hunted Eleven, had threatened him with electric shock if he told anyone outside of Hawkins National Laboratory anything?

"You gotta tell me, kid. I can't protect you if you don't let me know." Hopper's voice was firm as his eyes that were on Will.

Will moved his head away to the window, resting against the cool glass, and looked up at the budding, green leafing trees surrounding the yard. Faint afternoon sunlight, a hallmark of one of the first few warm days since the beginning of spring, flickered through the branches. He tried to imagine living in a place like Hawkins Lab, where there was a depressive lack of sunlight, trees, birds chirping, and the cool air through your hair. Where no one could feel the warmth on their back or the crunch of twigs under their feet. The more he thought about it, the more he could imagine it being similar to the Upside Down and the sadder he felt for Eleven. What if she really was still alive somewhere and that doctor was going to trap her again? Maybe he already had. 

"Will? You okay?" Hopper put a hand on his shoulder and Will turned to him, eyes watering.

"He was going to hurt me if I told anyone," Will choked out and Hopper gripped both his shoulders. 

"Who was going to hurt you? Dr. Owens?" Hopper asked, the anger seeping up into his mouth, and Will shook his head.

"No, not him. It was... another doctor."

"What'd he look like?" 

"He... was really tall. White hair. He said his name was... Dr. Brenner," Will spoke as quietly as he could and Hopper took in a breath, but the expression on his face didn't display surprise.

"Why did he want to hurt you?" Hopper asked calmly. 

"If - if I talked to anybody about what happened to me and about the Lab, he said... he was going to use electric shock on my body." Will quickly glanced away to avoid Hopper seeing his tears. It was partly true, but he was too scared to tell Hopper more; the real reason being about Eleven. 

"Jesus," Hopper muttered and pulled back from Will, rubbing his stubbly brown beard in thought. Minutes passed in silence and Will focused on the trees again, remembering the skeletal ones that dotted the landscape of the Upside Down, as if it was in perpetual winter. Will decided that if the Upside Down was death, Hawkins Lab had to be hell. 

"Tell you what, kid. You're not going back there until I talk to them about this. Your mom doesn't need to know about it, got it? I'm going to fix this so you won't have to see that Dr. Brenner ever again, alright?" Hopper told Will with evident determination. 

"O-Okay." Will knew Hopper wasn't easily intimidated, but he was afraid talking it out with someone like Dr. Brenner wouldn't be enough. This wasn't a parent-teacher conference; a small town police chief going up against the US government was something far harder, but Hopper had been the one to talk to the government in the first place to somehow get Will back alive from the Upside Down and Will owed him his life for that.

Will glanced down at his watch at the time and remembered that tonight was D&D night at Mike's and usually he had to wait to be picked up and driven there, since Mom wouldn't let him bike by himself anymore ever since he came home from the hospital. He was tired of trying to convince her how embarrassing it was at his age to be chauffeured everywhere, even just to a friend's house, but she was stubborn. Will turned to Hopper hopefully.  

"I've got to go to Mike's house; do you think I could - " 

"I'll drive you there." Hopper cut him off abruptly, as if he already knew what Will was going to say, and grabbed the key to start up the ignition. Will felt slight disappointment, but tried not to show it as he went to open the truck's door, but it was still locked. 

"Wait, let me go get my things," Will said and Hopper unlocked the door. He jumped out of the truck and ran to the house, coming back a minute later with his charcoal gray backpack slung over his shoulders and went back into the passenger seat. Hopper reared out of the driveway and pulled out onto the road and down Mirkwood. Both of them adamantly ignored the dingy HNL white and yellow property signs planted along the chain link fence as they rolled past. It wasn't that long ago that Will had been startled here by the Demogorgon's silhouette and had abandoned his bike along this stretch, running for his life in the woods. He admitted it still gave him the chills at night, but he was sick of feeling scared, of feeling so helpless all the time now. He hadn't died in the Upside Down; he'd survived, hadn't he? 

"Everyone acts like this now," Will murmured to the window as brown and green blurred by.

"Acts like what, kid?" Hopper asked as he made his way to the suburbs. Will took a while before answering with a tremor of quiet frustration.

"Like I can't do anything by myself anymore. Mom, Jonathan, school... it's like I'm a baby or something."

"It's 'cause we care about ya, Will." Hopper chuckled, but then sobered as he pulled onto Maple Street. He knew from experience that you could care so much about someone and still lose them regardless. Would caring about Will be enough this time?

8:00 PM

WHEELER HOUSE

The stairs lightly creaked under Will's shoes as he descended down into Mike's basement, but hearing Mike's muffled voice made him pause halfway down. 

"El? It's me, it's Mike. It's day 145. El, are you there? If you're out there, say something. Please..." 

Will stepped further down the stairs, ignoring the lump in his throat. 

"Mike?"

Mike looked up and snapped the walkie-talkie shut, shoving it aside and under his knee quickly. 

"Oh - hey. Dustin and Lucas already left?"

"Yeah." They'd had to finish up ten minutes ago because it was getting late and Will knew Mom was going to be waiting for him. He didn't want to leave just yet though and slowly went to sit by blanket fort with Mike watching him warily.  

"You know... you don't have to hide it from me," Will said softly, his own words reminding himself of Hopper's talk earlier. 

Mike stared down at the ragged rug and Will watched him carefully. 

"She was amazing, Will. You should've seen the stuff she could do. She even made Troy piss his pants," Mike laughed weakly and Will chuckled with him until Mike's face fell a little.

"But she's gone now. She's gone." 

"Mike... what if - I mean, theoretically - what if we did find her? Like she was still out there? Theoretically, though. You know, like Mr. Clarke says when something's impossible, it's just theoretical, but we can still talk about it?" Will offered, keeping his voice as even as he could. Mike's eyes met his and there was a speck of light in them that Will hadn't seen for months. 

"You really think so?" 

"But - but it'd be really dangerous. Theoretically dangerous, of course."

"Danger, danger?" Mike asked with the ghost of his familiar grin. 

"Yeah, something like that," Will muttered and Mike frowned. It was a moment before Mike leaned towards him and spoke, his voice soft and more serious.

"You go there, don't you?"

"Wh-what? Where?" Will felt panic start bubbling up and he fought to keep calm. Please don't say Lab. Please don't say Lab. He really wasn't supposed to have said anything, but he hated to lie or keep secrets from his best friend. Even just giving him a glimmer of hope (false or not) was worth seeing Mike happier again, but he was far from dumb; he was going to piece it together if Will didn't stop talking soon. Part of him now wished he hadn't brought this up. What if Mike told the guys and someone heard them? Will thought back to what Hopper mentioned about "someone listening" possibly at home. Was it possible that the Hawkins Lab was listening in to Mike's house too? 

"That Lab. I thought you were going to the hospital every month, but your mom's actually been taking you there, hasn't she?" 

"Mike, I - "

"Did you see anything?" Mike asked excitedly. There it was again; that spark in his eyes and Will hated to be the one to have to diminish it.

"No, I mean... it's not like I see anyone besides my doctor."

"But maybe there's something or some kind of sign. You could look for clues every time you go there. You could be like a spy! A superspy, Will." Mike's voice rose in pure hope, but Will shook his head furiously.

"I thought you said Eleven is gone. Why would she be there anyway?"

"What if she found a way out of the Upside Down?"

"Mike, no one just finds 'a way out' of there," Will frowned and picked at a threadbare corner of a blanket.

"But El has powers. Maybe she found a way out and went back to the Lab. But why would she go back there? No, she would've come here..." Mike trailed off in thought and his hand twitched towards the blocky, black walkie-talkie half buried under his criss-crossed legs, but Will had enough.

"Mike - she's gone, okay? I would've seen something by now. There's no use talking about it!" He stood up suddenly and strode to and up the stairs. Mike stared after him before grabbing the walkie-talkie back into his hands.

8:30 PM

HNL

"Eleven? El? It's Mike again. If you're out there, just please, give me a sign. Or give Will a sign. We miss you. I miss you a lot. El? Please, El, I need to know if you're okay..."

Dr. Brenner slid the headphones off his ears and scowled, shaking his head as he passed them off to an agent. Cigarette smoke wafted through the dimly lit room and it was crowded with several men monitoring screens and tapped homes in and around Hawkins. When Brenner had been at the Wheeler's home last November, he had an agent place a device in the basement light, unbeknownst to the somewhat inattentive parents. It had so far proved effective in documenting this boy's many unsuccessful attempts to contact Eleven for months, but Brenner hadn't given much thought to his one-sided affection for her and so much useless conversation about a board game; only children could take serious situations and turn it into a fantasy. However, there was clearly reason to keep monitoring him after the Byers boy flimsily tried and failed to keep his word of secrecy. Eleven had only labeled Will in her drawings, but it was clear he wasn't the only one with an interest in the girl. It baffled Brenner how these boys could be so fixated on a girl they barely knew. Then again, perhaps it was no different than flashing a shiny new toy at two toddlers, for Eleven was probably the most exciting event that had ever happened to them in their small, meaningless lives. And "El"? What a foolish nickname only a preteen could come up with. 

"I think we have a boy problem." Brenner crossed his arms and glanced around the room.

Someone in the back coughed and the men flanking Dr. Brenner looked at him for directions.

"Continue keeping tabs on the both of them," Brenner ordered simply. There was no need to raise all alarms yet, considering Eleven hadn't identified Wheeler yet and she wasn't going to be looking for any boy in her current mental state, but Byers might need a little encouragement on his next visit to learn to keep information strickly to himself. 

Brenner walked away to exit and opened the door, not minding a reprieve from the cigarette smoke, and bumped into Dr. Owens who was standing right outside the door. 

"So what's the status, Doc?" 

"Nothing to be too concerned about," Brenner said briskly and walked around him down the hall. Never mind his colleague now; Sam didn't need to know the full extent of the situation yet because he would only make more questions and protests about it. Brenner had never met such a doubtful and irritating man.

He made his well tread path to Eleven's temporary confinement room. It was time to take her out of her bindings, for the new nursery was being finished and he'd have her moved in there in the next day. Brenner pulled open the door and, as usual, Eleven was fast asleep on the mats on the floor. He crouched down and jostled her awake. 

"Pa-pa?" She spoke slowly as her eyelids fluttered open and she blinked several times to adjust to the bright light of the room.

"Hello, Eleven." Brenner smiled and unwrapped the blanket, discarding it along with the straight jacket he unfastened her out of. 

"Papa," Eleven said again and reached up a slightly stiff arm to pat his face. 

"Yes, it's your Papa," Brenner smiled again and gently pulled her hand away from his cheek. She was acting infantile; which meant so far, so good. He sat her up and looked her over. She had indeed gained some weight, her face slightly fuller and her round stomach pushing through her sleep suit that appeared a little tighter on her. Dr. Owens should be pleased she was being fed more than Brenner had ever allowed in her life. 

"Let's get you a bottle, hmm?" She hadn't had one since this morning. Brenner stood up and paused in surprise as he felt a tug on his left gray pant leg. He looked down and raised his eyebrows, as she clutched and pulled at the hem. He moved his leg away and she whined while he went to the counter and poured milk into a bottle. She no longer needed a sedative; he wanted her conscious and processing of her surroundings to get her accustomed to being more awake due to practically being in almost a coma for over the past two weeks. Brenner brought the full bottle over and she grabbed it from his hands and drank eagerly while watching him. He nodded in approval and stood over by the door. Hopefully this two week delay and the slight shift of treatment had her mind back in its complacent place and only wanting to please and obey him for rewards. She could forget all about those boys.

Only if they would just forget about her. 

Chapter Text

May 1, 1984 2:00 PM

HNL

Eleven sat in her new white barred crib, which was a bit bigger than the old one she had destroyed, and prodded at her protruding tummy, fascinated by the squishy skin. She couldn't remember ever having that before. Her eyes gravitated over towards the hospital ID bracelet secured around her right wrist that she also had not had prior to being moved to that other room; she only recalled waking up and being confused how she ended up with it, along with what was written on it. She frowned, tracing her fingers over the printed letters and numbers.

DR. MARTIN BRENNER.

It was odd for her to see Papa's name physically attached to her; she had heard his name spoken aloud by other doctors and nurses, of course, but she didn't think she'd ever seen it actually spelled out on paper. She tried sounding the words out on her tongue, but they got stuck somewhere in her throat. She hadn't been feeling quite like herself lately... although that was hard to measure, since she wasn't really sure who her sense of self was. Was she who Papa told her to be? 

Eleven rubbed a finger on the tiny round black piece with a steady red light also on her bracelet (yet another part of it she didn't understand), but for some reason it reminded her of the camera in the corner of every room, including her own, in the Lab. Was Papa keeping track of her through this, too? As if on cue, the door clicked open and caught her attention as Papa himself walked in with a bottle in his hand. She perked up at the sight of the milk; it just tasted so good and it was her main sustenance that she was given on a daily basis. He came over to her crib and unlocked it, like he had done with the previous one, but this lock was enforced with a key he kept with him at all times. Eleven anxiously awaited the dropping of the side of the crib bars and grabbed at the bottle. She hadn't had her morning milk that she was usually given and her stomach was insistent, but Papa only set the bottle down on the floor and pulled her out of the crib into his arms briefly before placing her down onto the floor away from her bottle. She tried to stand up on her feet, perplexed, but he put a hand on her back and gently pushed her to the floor. 

"No, Eleven. No walking now. You're going to crawl."

She glanced up in pure confusion. He knelt down next to her and tapped at her knees with a finger. 

"Use your knees, not your feet."

Papa guided her into position; taking her hands, putting one after the other onto the cold floor, and making her knees move along with them. She eased into the repetitive motion, amazed she could move this way, and the diaper crinkled between her legs under her snug one-piece that she realized was much easier to move with than a gown. 

"Now follow me," Brenner instructed as he went to open the door, bottle back in hand, and she slowly crawled after him to the hallway. He started down the hall, but paused and turned around when he didn't hear anything behind him after a moment. 

"Eleven?"

She had stopped at the door, peering out into the hallway and uncertainty made its presence known upon her face.

"Come on, Eleven. Come to Papa," Brenner encouraged, patting his thigh and holding up the milk bottle. She looked at him and crept out on her hands and knees on the spotless pale tiles, taking her time getting to him. She caught up to his feet and stopped, sitting back on her padded bottom and looked up, craning her neck to meet his eyes. He smiled and shook the bottle, nodding, and then indicated down the empty hall.

"Keep crawling after me." 

She obeyed and followed as closely as she could, but his strides were as long as shadows from the setting sun and by the time they arrived at the testing room, her knees ached. Eleven crawled over to a chair at the gray table and Brenner helped her onto it before he took a seat next to her. There was the book of nursery rhymes in front of her and she reached for it in recognition, momentarily forgetting about the milk she had followed after him for.

"Do you remember?" Brenner asked quietly with a small smile as she flipped through the pages and he slid a four by six inches photo of a man, a random one of the HNL employees, in front of her and grabbed a sheet of blank paper to write on.

"Okay, Eleven. We're going to do a little practice today. I want you to find this man and he will be saying words from your old nursery rhymes. Listen for dog, cat, moon, clock, spoon, and baby. Understand?" Brenner explained the task as simply as he could; how this brought back memories for him of when he first instructed her as an eager four year old just budding with her potential.

Now she just stared blankly back at him. 

"Eleven? Are you listening? Do you understand?" 

She looked down at the book and put her finger on the illustration of the cow jumping over the moon. 

"Cow," Eleven identified basically. 

"Yes, that's right," Brenner frowned as she patted the page and he tried to explain the task over again.

"You're not finding the cow, Eleven. Listen for words like dog, cat, moon, clock, spoon, and baby." 

Her eyes swiveled about the room and she stuck her own thumb up into her mouth.

"Eleven, pay attention," Brenner told her firmly with ample irritation. She ignored this order and uncharacteristically giggled, kicking the legs of his metal chair to Brenner's obvious annoyance. 

"Look at me. Focus." He tried to place his hand onto hers, but her arms reached out and pulled onto the end of his tie, playing with the silky texture, and he yanked it away quickly, the tie sliding out of her fingers before she could put it to her mouth. Brenner stood quickly to his feet and went to the door as her face crumpled and she appeared about to cry. He walked out and around to the other side of the viewing window where Dr. Owens was standing and watching the scene with another scientist. 

"Good job, Martin. I see exactly what we need out there: a very mature, normal thirteen year old," Owens commented sarcastically. 

"Eleven just needs a few minutes to calm down," Brenner composedly stated, smoothing down his tie to his chest and Owens chuckled at the absurdity of it all. Brenner sighed and grabbed a clipboard from the scientist to jot down a few notes about her behavior. 

"Let me try to talk to her," Owens offered and Brenner looked up with curiosity.

"Do you think she will listen to you?"

"It can't hurt to try." Owens pulled open the door and went to the table where Eleven had been distracted again by the nursery rhymes, pulling the pages almost out of the book as he cautiously approached.

"Hey, kiddo," Owens spoke gently as he took the chair next to her. Her head went up and her eyes widened in surprise before glancing to the door.

"Papa?" Eleven asked with a touch of worry.

"Your Papa just stepped out for a minute, but he'll be back soon."

"Soon?" Her head cocked at the word and Owens paused. Did she understand much at all? What the hell had Martin done?

"...Ah, yes. Very soon. Right now, though, I want you to focus on me. Can you do that?"

Her thumb edged back to her mouth, but she barely nodded and he took the book. 

"Let's see here..." Owens searched through the pages for the words she had been assigned to listen for. Maybe if he pointed them out to her, she would be more apt to understand and complete the task. 

"Okay, here is the cat. C-A-T. Cat. There's a man waiting for you in the other room and he's going to say that word. When he does, you're going to let me know so I can make a note here," Owens explained, but Eleven's interest in his words was draining out and her eyes went to his white lab coat, hands grabbing at one of the pockets before he could stop her.

"Hey, now! What are you looking for, kiddo?" Owens exclaimed in surprise as she rummaged into the front pockets with determination and then a faint crinkle caught her ears. Owens raised his eyebrows in realization as she successfully pulled out a crumpled small hard candy and picked at the wrapper before bringing it to her mouth.

"Oh, you're a smart one alright. I forgot that was even in there!" Owens laughed and then the door opened, Brenner coming in with a very visible frown.

"What's going on in here, Sam?"

"I don't think she's all that interested in what we want her to do. She just wants the reward," Owens shook his head in amusement and patted his pockets to check for any more suppressed sweets. 

"Enough, Eleven." Brenner plucked the candy straight out of her hands and dropped it into his own pocket. 

"No candy, no milk, no rewards at all today if you don't stop this right now. Be a good girl and listen to Dr. Owens."

Eleven's bottom lip quivered and she leaned forward onto the table, resting her arms and head onto the book. 

"Great, now she needs a nap," Owens groaned and stood up while checking his watch.

"I don't have time for this, Martin. I've got to meet my patient shortly." 

Brenner waved him out and went back to Eleven, pulling her up off the book to take it in his hands and stepping away to exit. He still had the bottle he never gave her and her tongue longed for the smooth, soothing milk. Her aching for a reward and for him gave him an idea.

"Find me, Eleven. Find your Papa or you won't be ever leaving this room." Brenner laid down the instructions clearly, opening the door and turning off the light before locking it and it shut with resounding finality. Perhaps actions would speak louder to her than words. It took Eleven a moment to register that he or anyone was not coming back. She missed the nursery rhymes already and she felt very hungry. 

"Papa?!" Eleven yelled to the room. 

"Papa! Papa! Papa!" She began to sob as the flashbacks flowed up from her subconscious into the forefront of her brain. The constant push or pull. Reward or punishment. Attention or neglect. He had left her and had taken want she wanted to enjoy.

No candy, no milk, no rewards.

He wanted her to find him, but her mind was such a mess now. Eleven got up from her seat and moved to the door, but her legs wobbled and her feet failed her, tripping over one another, and she tumbled to the floor clumsily. A strangled sob seeped out of her and she halfheartedly crawled to the door, banging her fists on the lower half. 

"Papa!" 

Many minutes passed and she curled up by the door, sad and lonely, wishing she had just listened... but it was hard to listen when she felt so different, so small.  

"Papa...Papa...Papa," Eleven murmured over and over with tears. Finally, out of sheer boredom, she closed her eyes and reached with her mind. The void stretched out eternally all around her and she wandered into the blackness with the sole intention of seeking Papa. She heard his voice softly before she found him several feet before her, seated and holding the book. He was gradually repeating the very words she was supposed to listen for. Eleven ran to him and it felt very strange to run, even if it was only in her mind, like she was out of practice. She slipped on the pooled water halfway to him and went down hard on her hands, palms colliding with a slap on the water and she had no choice but to crawl her way to him.

"Papa!" Eleven cried desperately, but he could not hear her. Her hand went up to him and he dissolved into smoke like everyone eventually did in her visions. She pulled out gasping, her nose running with red, and sat up in reality when the door to the room slowly opened, flooding light into the dark space, and her eyes found Brenner's shiny, cap-toe black shoes. 

"Very, very good Eleven. It looks like you were able to find me," Papa praised somewhere far above her. She felt the strength that was keeping her body up sitting waning and a few seconds later, she collapsed back to the floor, very vaguely feeling Papa's arms underneath scooping her up with a grunt of effort for her newly added weight that he was getting used to as much as she was. He hauled her out of the room, her head bouncing and lolling on his arm as he took her down the hall to return her to the nursery. He was beginning to understand her pattern; when she was in distress she would use her abilities effectively. She had always been ruled by emotion and, like many very young children, craved simplistic constructs. He'd always worked with fear, but it was even more prominent now that she was acting more infantile. Brenner reached her door and a guard stepped forward to punch in a string of numbers on the keypad he had installed on her door for further security. Her new nursery was an improvement with a larger, deeper crib with a lock and key, the stars and numbers mobile (one of the only objects unaffected by her outburst weeks ago) hung above it from the ceiling, which had a colorful rainbow painted on it. It complemented with the assortment of blocks and baby toys on the floor for Eleven to play with as enrichment during her playtime when she behaved. A cot stayed as a changing table with the adjacent supplies and the scent of baby powder lingered in the room. The ratty old stuffed lion rested patiently in the crib and Brenner deposited her there with a sigh, placing the milk bottle in next to her. She deserved it now.    

3:30 PM

Hopper drove his truck past the checkpoint into Hawkins Lab and Will shifted nervously in his seat, his palms clammy already and they hadn't even stepped through the doors. Joyce had let Hopper take Will alone again since she had been occupied at Melvald's and Hop knew she secretly didn't mind not having to go to HNL. She hated the place.

"Let me do the talking, alright?" Hopper reminded Will and he nodded at once. That wouldn't be a problem here when his mouth felt drier than stale bread. Hopper parked and they got out, walking up to the entrance and were ushered in where Dr. Owens met them in the hallway to take them to the usual exam room. 

"Hey, Doc? I'd like to have a word with Dr. Brenner if that's possible," Hopper requested as they rounded a corner. 

"I'm afraid he's a bit busy today, Chief," Owens replied, shaking his head as they entered into the exam room and Will was taken by a nurse to change into a hospital gown. Hopper kept his cool and took his spot leaning against the wall as Owens busied himself with perusing paperwork. 

"Well, you see it's rather important and one of those man-to-man kind of talks, you know?" 

"In case you haven't noticed, Chief-O, I also happen to be a man and anything you want to say to him you can say to me," Owens replied with a grin.

Hopper also grinned, but held back the grimace for now. 

"I don't think you're the one to complain to exactly. It's kinda personal and involves a certain someone."

Hopper nudged a look at Will lying down onto the table as a nurse hovered and Owens glanced between them.

"I don't know what this is all about, but I'm assuming we should discuss it privately."

The two men went out into the hallway, the door closing behind them, and Hopper cornered Owens up against the wall. 

"Now, I really don't - " Owens started, but Hopper beat him to a full sentence. 

"Look, your boss got his little science project back. Tell him to back the hell off of Will." 

The doctor's expression changed from bemused bewilderment to one of seriousness with a hint of anger.

"He's not my boss. We're co-operating this project and I'm afraid Will is crucial for our research." 

"What project?" Hopper glared and Owens shifted uncomfortably. 

"I know you have your doubts about us, but I really need your cooperation on this. I know it's not easy, but you have to just trust us and you will be better off if you do," Owens advised. 

"Cooperation my ass. I've got a kid scared to death because of what he was threatened with last month. You wanna talk trust? Maybe don't zap the people you want to have trust in you. Seen Terry Ives lately?"   

Owens sucked in a breath.

"You know all about that?" He asked, keeping his voice low and glancing around while exhaling.

"Yeah, it's amazing what you can find in public records at the local library."

Owens looked down in deliberation, but Hopper knew he'd already cracked.

"Fine, wait here just a minute," Owens caved and left as guards, who had be in their stoic positions opposite against the wall, moved to Hopper's sides to keep him from going anywhere. Owens came back with Dr. Brenner at his side several minutes later and then stepped quickly aside as Brenner went up to Hopper, his expression deadpan. 

"What seems to be the trouble here?" Brenner asked with feigning disinterest.

"Care to explain to me why you're after a kid that's not your property?" Hopper growled. Brenner lifted his head up and stared down at him, which was difficult to do with a man who was about the same height.

"I am not the boy's doctor and he is not a danger to this facility." 

"Then why are you bugging the house he calls home and threatening the kid with electric shock if he so much as drops the word 'Lab'?" 

"Measures need to be taken to assure general security and you should know that as police chief." 

"Yeah, but I'm not in the business of torturing little kids and turning their mother's brains to mush," Hopper shot back. If Brenner found any of his words offensive, he didn't show it.

"Your aggravated overprotectiveness and dogged attitude will not serve anyone. You need to remember who is in charge around here," Brenner replied cooly.

"I'm just trying to look after the kid and keep him from suffering more after all the hell he's been through, if you remember." 

"Did that approach work out very well for your daughter? Cancer, I believe?" 

In one swift motion, Hopper swung at his face and Brenner ducked, avoiding the blow directly, but Hopper's fist was able to clip his nose and Brenner staggered away, bumping into the wall while Owens looked startled and moved forward with the guards, who quickly apprehended Hopper, twisting his arms behind his back and then shoving him into the exam room. Will jumped off the table in alarm and the nurse gasped, dropping her tools, as Hopper stumbled into a stool and small table, causing equipment littered on top to clatter and crash down along with himself. He reached out, attempting to get to Will, but a guard slammed a foot down on his right hand and Hopper howled in pain. Will's heart pounded as Brenner came in behind Owens, gripping something tightly in his hand as Hopper tried to fight against the guards. Brenner handed the object in his hand off to a burly guard and he approached Hopper with a sadistic smirk.The taser struck the Chief with lightening force and he fell to the floor with a yell and convulsed in front of Will. The boy stared in horror and helplessness as Hopper's body pulsed with pain and the twitching continued. Owens stood anxiously back by the door with his hand squeezing the stress ball in his pocket. Brenner made a motion with his hand to the man and the electric shock suddenly paused and Hopper choked out gulping gasps, rolling over onto his stomach and using all his efforts to push himself up on all fours. He had enough time to spit onto the floor before another round of tasering hit him and he spasmed violently. 

"Stop it! Please! Stop!" Will screamed to deaf ears and he could feel his own fingers shaking and his legs trembling as he stood against the exam table. To watch the one man who was becoming almost like the father he never really had, the one man who defended him, rippling in pure torture was almost as bad as experiencing the pain himself. Hopper's agony went on for what seemed like ages and Brenner just stood watching heartlessly, his eyes dark and flat. Finally the tasering stopped and Hopper collapsed unconscious, splayed on the ground. The room was ringing in silence until Brenner spoke.

"Clean this up. Finish the exam on the boy." He commanded and left as though Hopper was just a mess to mop up. Will heaved breaths of anger and fright as Owens put on an extremely forced smile.

"Let's continue, shall we?" He stepped around Hopper's body and picked up the tipped-over stool, sitting down on it next to the exam table, and signaled to Will to lie back down. Once the guards left, dragging an unconscious Hopper by the legs, Owens leaned forward and all sense of any warmth he put on was gone as he spoke quickly in a hushed voice to the boy. 

"This is a warning, Will. You need to be very careful what you tell others because these walls have ears and I don't want you to get the wrong treatment. What you just saw could've been you." 

Will ducked his chin into a sharp nod. There was nothing he could say. He'd never felt so afraid in all his life except for facing down the Demogorgon and starting to become slowly consumed by the Upside Down. He should have known that monsters weren't always faceless or masked, nor did they hide out only in dark dimensions; they came under bright lights with human faces, too.  

Chapter Text

May 24, 1984 9:00 AM

HAWKINS MIDDLE SCHOOL, HAWKINS INDIANA

Mr. Clarke, the heavily mustached science teacher, plopped a pinkish model of the human brain down on his desk in front of his class and smiled at the seventh grade students.  

"Meet the human brain. Looks a little gross, right? But consider this. There are a hundred billion cells inside this miracle of evolution..."

Will sat glumly still at his desk, his hands resting on top of each other while he stared down at his slowly ticking wristwatch, barely listening to Mr. Clarke attempt to excite the usually dull group of kids. The only ones engaged were his friends up front and Will most times was also interested in what their teacher had to say, especially on a new topic, but today he could hardly concentrate on the subject... and it wasn't helping his already troubled thoughts. He'd just about had enough of the human brain; he was sick of getting the sticky electrodes plastered to his head and hearing the beeping of the brainwaves monitor every single time he went to Hawkins Lab. His brain was all the scientists and doctors seemed to give a crap about. They didn't really care about him. Will wondered if he even had a hundred billion cells and why he wasn't using a single one of them to figure out how to tell Mike about what had happened a few weeks ago. He'd tried putting it out of the frontal lobe of his mind, dumping it mentally in the trashcan past the cerebellum and down his spinal cord, hoping he'd completely forget about Hopper's howls of pain and twitching like an animal caught in a trap... but it was impossible. It haunted him day and night, another much too vivid memory to add to his rotating collection of bad experiences to relive in his nightmares. Mom slept with him at night sometimes, but he'd rather die than admit that to the guys or anyone else. It was bad enough Jonathan found out, but Will knew he understood and was good at giving him space. 

As Mr. Clarke talked on through the different parts of the brain, Will quietly pulled a clean sheet of notebook paper from his binder, which tore the holes apart, but he didn't care. This wasn't a school assignment and hopefully Mr. Clarke would think he was only taking notes. Will picked up his pencil and scrawled a message in all capital letters:

CASTLE BYERS

AFTER SCHOOL

WE NEED TO TALK

REMEMBER THE PASSWORD!

He quickly folded up the paper into a neat square and passed it across the aisle to Mike in his seat a few feet away while Mr. Clarke was glancing down at the model and turning away to the green chalkboard. Mike grabbed the note, his eyebrows raising in surprise, and he unfolded it slowly. A small crease dented his forehead as he read, then he looked up over at Will and jerked his head towards Lucas and Dustin in their seats in front of him. Will shook his head; as much as they were a Party, he wasn't comfortable sharing anything about the Lab yet with the other two. Maybe it was because he felt closest to Mike and always trusted him... or maybe because they'd known each other since kindergarten and he was the only one who could have these silent conversations with him without saying a word. Everyone else was always talking and talking, asking and asking, but as much as Mike spoke aloud, he also knew how to read Will's emotions quietly and understand. Will swallowed the tiny lump all of a sudden in his throat and shuffled his feet. Mr. Clarke was tapping noisily on the chalkboard and Will dared a look at Mike to see his reaction to the message. He was dropping the note in his backpack and his dark eyes met Will's and he gave him a nod, one that showed sound resolve. Will nodded in return and sank back in his chair, glancing at the clock once more. Now all there was to do was wait and maybe in the time between now and then he could knock two brain cells together to get himself to be able to tell the truth about his experience to his best friend.

4:00 PM

The American flag whipped in the breeze outside on top of the twig and old lumber laden home of Will the Wise and inside he sat on a colorful thick quilt, working diligently on two separate drawings; one of Dr. Owens and one of Dr. Brenner. He scribbled angry black shadows around Brenner's lanky form, leaving white space for his hair and the multiple spiky, skinny lightning bolts flaring out from all around him into the darkness. He'd have to hide this drawing from Mom and Jonathan; maybe he'd leave it here in his fort... Will was lucky Mom let him come back here in the first place, but it took a few months of convincing her and even he knew there was a risk of being out here alone in the woods after all that had happened. It was strange to think that he'd been here not too long ago during his days of hiding from the Demogorgon in the Upside Down. Even the distant crunching of twigs outside, when he knew it had to be Mike, was enough to send his pulse racing in anxiety and the sound came closer until he heard Mike's voice whisper loudly:

"Radagast!"

Will grinned in relief and pulled back the thin sheet over the entrance and his best friend crawled in to take a seat on a pillow. Will shifted the drawing of Dr. Brenner underneath the one of Dr. Owens quickly. He noticed Mike was carrying his walkie-talkie and pointed at it.

"What's that for? I don't want you to call any of the guys here."

"I won't. I just thought maybe I could get some reception here. You know, we're kinda close to Hawkins Lab," Mike tried to explain casually.

"Don't remind me," Will muttered unhappily. He was pretty sure his fort was safe from any eavesdroppers and he thoroughly checked everything before Mike came, just in case. Now he knew the basement apparently wasn't safe, but he didn't know how exactly to tell Mike that. It wasn't like his parents would understand and even if they did, Will had no idea where and how Hawkins Lab was listening in. 

"Sorry." Mike grabbed a few mixed nuts from a tin container and munched on them before he spoke up.

"So what did you need to talk about? Did you find something? Is that why you wanted to talk out here?"

Will continued sketching the drawing of Dr. Owens and he could feel Mike's stare on him. He wasn't sure what to start with yet; it was like opening up to Hopper all over again and that hadn't led to a good outcome.  

"Who're you drawing?" Mike asked curiously, leaning forward to look.

"This is my doctor," Will replied quietly, keeping a firm hand on the paper so Mike didn't see the one under it.

"Is he mean?" 

"No. He's pretty nice, I guess." Will finished the filling in the man's dark red tie with a crayon and leaned back. Owens was nice (at least for a shifty government doctor) when he wasn't letting Brenner torture and interrogate people. 

"Mike, I didn't really want to tell you about this before, but..." Will started suddenly and stopped slowly. 

"You can tell me Will," Mike told him at once with earnest.

"Well, it's just - we can't talk in your basement again. It's not safe. They know I told you about going there, to the Lab." Will paused and Mike frowned.

"You mean they bugged my basement?" he inquired with irritation. 

"Yeah, I think so, but I don't know how or when they did it. I was threatened not to tell you anything." 

To Will's surprise, Mike's face lit up with interest and an idea. 

"What's so great about being threatened?" Will asked, very confused. 

"You know what this means, though, Will? They're hiding something. Otherwise they wouldn't want to listen in and be scaring you into secrecy. They don't want you or anyone to find out about something," Mike explained eagerly. Will didn't share the enthusiasm.

"Maybe, but it's not worth getting tortured or killed for. Last time I was there, they... they really hurt Hopper. They gave him electric shock and said I could be next if I'm not careful." Will shifted on the quilt and smudged at the drawing of his doctor with a finger. Mike didn't say anything for a minute until he suddenly reached out and grabbed Will's hand, stopping the motion of the pencil in his hand that was absently adding more scribbles to Owens's already curly gray hair on the page.

"Will, you're not alone. I don't care if people think we're freaks or crazy or whatever. We're going to find out what's going on for real in that place and we're gonna take down these bastards. We're gonna to take 'em all down together." He spoke with such conviction Will had to admire it, even if he believed it was a long stretch, but Mike had always been the bravest boy he knew. 

"Mike, I don't know..." Will trailed off and glanced away.

"I think they know about her. El has to be alive and they have her or she's close. Why else would they be threatening you and Hopper so much? It can't just be about the Upside Down. It has to be her, Will. It's her," Mike theorized and Will didn't want to admit he might be right.

"I don't wanna look for more trouble. She might not even be alive, you said it yourself. I'm not going to get killed over this girl." Will knew the words would irk Mike, but it was true; he'd almost died already and he wasn't in a hurry to face death again. Mike's face darkened and he gripped his walkie-talkie.

"I know you're scared, but El's probably even more scared too and we have to help her somehow," Mike pleaded, struggling to contain his emotions. Will shook his head.

"No, Mike. It's just not worth it," Will stated flatly and braced for the backlash.  

"This isn't just about you, Will! Do you know how many people in this stupid town went looking for you last year? Everyone thought you died and we even had a funeral and people I didn't even know came. But nobody ever looked for El before and do you know why? Because NO ONE really knows she even exists! NO ONE CARES except me and the assholes who were hunting her! She's been through more shit than any of us have and I can't believe the one guy I thought would understand what it's like to be alone doesn't have the guts!" Mike abruptly exploded in the small space and Will closed his eyes, wincing at the sting of his words. He opened his mouth to reply somehow, but Mike jumped up to his feet with his walkie-talkie and stormed out of the fort, shoving the sheet aside roughly, leaving into the woods. His receding footfalls left only tiny snapped twigs on the ground behind and Will wept in his wake.   

HAWKINS NATIONAL LABORATORY, HAWKINS INDIANA

6:00 PM

Dr. Brenner put a hand against his forehead in frustration. They'd been trying all day to get Eleven to use her telekinesis to crush objects; something, anything, but she wouldn't even do an empty Coca-Cola can.

Dr. Owens came in the room again and placed an empty can of Dr. Pepper soda down on the metal table with a clink. 

"Dr. Pepper?" Brenner questioned with doubt as Eleven stared at it in fascination because she'd never seen that brand before. Owens shrugged.

"Why not? Tim drinks it and maybe she's tired of Coke."

Brenner scowled as they left the room to their positions at the viewing window and Brenner glanced around at the small group of scientists. Which one was Tim? HNL had been bringing on handfuls of new men to the job and he hadn't bothered getting to memorize all of their names. Numbers were simpler for that many people.. but it didn't really matter and the kind of soft drink it was shouldn't make a difference either, especially to Eleven. He knew her abilities were still intact quite well, but her attitude was not holding up well. She was being stubborn today and unfortunately her infantile behavior wasn't helping in this case. He tried explaining to her what to do over and over again, but after a few minutes Eleven would become distracted. He watched her through the window rocking back and forth a little on the chair and occasionally finding interest in sucking her thumb... Which reminded him; he needed to discourage her from doing that and use her pacifier instead. 

Owens opened the door and went into the room once more after no action. Eleven wiggled in her seat as he snatched up the can before holding it up in front of her face. 

"Look, kiddo," Owens said as he shook the can and then tossed it across the room. Eleven's eyes followed as it banged onto the floor and rolled towards the wall. She left her chair, with his assistance, to crawl over to it and poke at it in wonder, clutching it in her hands as the metal popped and crackled under the pressure of her fingers. Owens came over and knelt down next to her, gently trying to pry it out of her fingers, but she held fast. Brenner watched from the window and he unexpectedly felt a foreign emotion prick at him while watching his colleague interact with her. He brushed it aside quickly before he had much time to identify it, but it felt similar to last month when she had found the candy and Owens had been amused, causing Brenner the urge to intervene.

"You like that sound, don't you? You wanna know something, kiddo? You can make that same sound without using your hands," Owens told her with added hushed excitement. Eleven seemed interested, but pulled the can back forcefully using her hands. Owens hesitated and then lightly cringed as he yanked it out of her grip with a little strength, knowing she would make a fuss. Sure enough, Eleven's bottom lip quivered and she whined as he walked away with it. Brenner leaned forward to the glass with anticipation when he saw Eleven's expression change, going from a sad sniffle to a death stare at the can in the doctor's right hand. A second later, a loud crunch snapped throughout the room and Owens dropped the can with a slight jump as it landed to the ground in a completely crushed flat lumpy aluminum disk, as if flattened by a car tire. 

"No." Eleven simply stated in a hard voice that Brenner hadn't heard in quite some time. She sniffled again and crawled to the crushed can, picking it up with her fingers and then abruptly threw it at Dr. Owens. It bounced off his coat and Brenner fought off a smile as Owens rushed out of the room, coming around to the viewing window with a huff.

"I don't like this method, Martin. We upset her to get her to perform every time? What if someone ends up getting injured or even killed because of her? You know how dangerous she can be if we push her too far and she's angry or scared," Owens argued and Brenner dismissed him.

"This is a very controlled environment. Everyone will be fine."

Owens muttered under his breath something Brenner didn't care to hear as he pulled open the door to reward Eleven. She was still seated on the floor and looked up at him hopefully.

"Papa, Papa, Papa, Papa..." She babbled and scooted over to his legs. Brenner looked down and hefted her up, adjusting her in his arms, and praised her performance. 

"Very good girl, Eleven. Papa's very proud of you. What a good little one you are."  

She half smiled and patted his cheek with her hand. He carried her out and back to her nursery, since they were finally done for the day. He gave her the usual bottle of milk for the night and stepped out, shutting off the light. One of the nurses had insistently convinced him to have a faint night light installed on one of the walls in her room after Eleven had been crying half the night once the light was turned off. He thought it was ridiculous and only agreed if it would make her crying stop, as he certainly didn't want her to have another tantrum and destroy it all. So far, the night light seemed successful and she only woke up now once or twice during the night for a diaper change. 

Brenner went to his office instead of his own room and sat down at his desk, sifting through various files and reports, but he was finding it hard to retain his attention on them. Something had been bugging him lately and he attributed it to regressing Eleven and all this revisitation of her past. He left his desk and ran a hand over the metal filing cabinet against the wall and then unlocked a drawer to find his folders on her mother, Teresa Ives, and perused the pile of newspaper clippings and legal documents. Thankfully the lawsuit was behind him, but as Sam Owens had reported to him after Chief Hopper had confronted him, it wasn't forgotten. If only there was a way to permanently erase the past from ever happening, therefore stopping the possibility of people discovering it... but Brenner knew cover-up was his only realistic option here. Perhaps it was finally time to pay a long overdue visit to the Ives residence; it would give him a chance to give the sister, Becky Ives, some closure and to see if Terry was still muttering her nonsense. He knew Becky was an easily skeptical person when it came to the claims of her own sister and would listen to him as an official government figure and, more importantly, as a doctor. Maybe she finally deserved knowing the truth... or at least his tweaked version of the truth.

These thoughts occupied his brain throughout the rest of the evening... Eleven wasn't the only one going backwards to the times before. By midnight, Brenner laid his head down on the crisp white pillow in his room and mentally finalized his decision that it would be beneficial indeed to check up on his past work soon. 

Chapter Text

June 17, 1984 2:00 PM

515 LARRABEE ROAD, UNINCORPORATED HAWKINS INDIANA

Tires crunched under dirt and loose gravel from the government-issued car as it rolled along past a fading, chipped, charcoal colored old mailbox sleepily declaring the address up ahead.

515. What a coincidence that the numbers happened to add up to eleven. 

The two-story house loomed into view as the car, driven by HNL's lead agent, pulled up to park in front and Dr. Brenner rested a hand on the dark brown briefcase in his lap from his place in the passenger seat. The agent glanced to him and then made a move to open the door, but Brenner waved a hand and shook his head.

"No, I'm going in alone." He opened his door slowly and stepped a sure shiny shoed foot outside onto the hard dirt already scuffing his soles and the man, wordless, leaned back against the seat at ease, but kept a ready hand towards his holster. Hopefully there would be no need for that today.

He walked slowly around the front of the parked car and up towards the house, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. Brenner squinted at the sharp shafts of sunlight through the trees overhead all around the property. The air felt oddly balmy and barely a breeze drifted by as he walked onto the rocky slabs of a sidewalk. It felt strange to see and feel such natural warmth and light; he started to realize how out of touch he was with the normal outside world since being permanently stationed at Hawkins Lab, feeling almost felt like a prisoner of his own making. Off to his right, there was a rusted, broken down old van - a leftover from the heyday of the '60s - being gradually consumed by briars and weeds while there appeared to be a sprawling garden out back. Brenner saw brief spots of bright yellow and he thought it might be budding sunflowers. He advanced onto the gray cracked wooden porch with its scattered tools and pile of stacked firewood and approached the front door. He lifted a hand clenched into a firm fist and then knocked his knuckles down softly on the bright red wood. There was no answer after several seconds, so he knocked harder until an muffled, annoyed female voice came from inside the walls.

"Go away, I'm not interested!"

Brenner wondered if she had seen the car in the drive and he rapped down repetitively on the door to prove she should be interested. Quick footsteps followed after a few seconds and the curtain flicked aside to reveal an irritated middle-aged woman's face before the door opened a few inches, stopped by a dirty gold door chain that was attached to the door frame for security. Becky Ives glanced quickly at him and the briefcase resting against his thigh before speaking in a rushed voice.

"Look, I don't want your religious mumbo-jumbo or your real estate offers or whatever you're selling, I ain't buying, alright?" She made a move to slam the door back into place and Brenner kept a carefully composed face as he flashed up his Department of Energy badge for her to see. Becky paused and her eyes followed the natural succession from the official badge to his face to the black sedan resting in her driveway. She bit her lip and her eyebrows knitted together as Brenner lowered the badge before addressing her. 

"Becky Ives?" he asked seriously and she nodded at once. 

"Yep, that's me. Can I help you?" The snap in her voice was diminishing.

Brenner smiled pleasantly as he tucked his badge away into his shirt and Becky looked him over. He was dressed in the usual black tie and slacks with a white button down and a black coat over it despite the warm temperatures that he wasn't quite used to, coming from the climate controlled laboratory. 

"May I come inside? There are matters I would like to discuss with you, if that's suitable," Brenner told her politely and she hesitated, but undid the door lock and swung it open to let him in. She wore a lavender and white flannel and snuck a couple glances back at him as he followed her down the hallway into the old cluttered home. 

"Uh, can I get you something to drink? Water, tea, coffee?" Becky asked somewhat awkwardly and he could tell she was not used to having company, especially one of his appearance and formality. 

"Tea would be fine," he replied as they walked into the living room towards the distinct babble of the television in the background. The obnoxious sound of a daytime game show buzzer and a ding rang out before "Yeah! Five answers correct..." was exclaimed loudly from the host as they walked in.

"I'd give you iced tea, but we're all out. Is black okay?" Becky inquired and Brenner nodded. 

"Alright, give me a few minutes and I'll be right back." Becky went towards the kitchen and Brenner set his briefcase down on the floor at the door frame. He stared at the sight before him with intrigue: Terry Ives solidly sat rocking slowly back and forth in the rocking chair in the middle of the room, her eyes fixed vaguely on the television on its orange wooden stand by the wall in front of her. He stepped closer, surveying her features closely. She, like him, had visibly aged not quite gracefully, but she still contained a sense of quiet femininity under the surface of her haunted, fairly sunken in eyes, wispy dirty blonde hair, and dull lips. She was merely a ghost of what he had known years ago.

"Breathe... sunflower... rainbow... three to the right... four to the left... 450... breathe..." She herself breathed through the cycle of words and Brenner tilted his head, listening. He wondered how often she did this; surely not always to her sister, who must make nothing of the words. However, the more he listened, the more he realized it wasn't really nonsensical repetitive phrases after all. Breathe. How many times had he told her that during her drug trips? Rainbow. The symbol of Eleven and Eight's old playroom. Sunflower. He wasn't completely sure where that came from, but seeing that Becky possibly grew those in the backyard, perhaps that had been scrambled into the pieces of her memory. Three to the right. Four to the left. Directions around HNL? Brenner frowned. He wished he could see into her mind. 450. That was an easy one, for he had said it himself to instruct employee Ray Carroll during her electroshock. Perhaps to the informed, this string of seemingly random words meant nothing, but if someone - even perhaps someone with the ability to see into her mind - tried hard enough and figured it out that these were actually vague clues to her story. Had Terry done this on purpose? Was she smarter than he had given her credit for? No, that couldn't be. 

Brenner lowered himself down on a knee to the braided rug on the floor and placed his hand atop her frail one resting on the armrest of the chair. 

"Hello, Terry," Brenner murmured ever so quietly as he rubbed circles into the back of her hand and around her veins. The reaction was delayed, but then suddenly her eyes jumped to his face, her chest heaved a breath intake, and her hands tightened, nails gritting into the wood as her looped words faded out. The television abruptly shut off behind him and Brenner whipped his head around to face a completely black screen.

"Incredible..." he whispered and smiled. Even in her catatonic state, she somehow retained her ability. That was certainly something to take note of and remember. He removed his hand when he heard Becky's footsteps coming down the hall and stood up quickly. Terry's eyes stayed locked on his as Becky walked in holding a steaming mug of tea in her hands.

"I see you've met my sister. If you wanted to talk to her, you're about several years too late," Becky remarked dryly as she came over to them. She noticed the TV turned off and let out an exasperated noise. 

"Not again! We've been having electrical problems," she apologized and walked over to the TV, inspecting behind the stand, before straightening up after seeing the cord was still plugged in.

"Must be the crappy reception around here. I'm lucky to get a few channels." 

She came back over to him, but Brenner wasn't paying any attention to Becky as he gazed downward. Becky followed his eyes to the tray beside the rocking chair where two botanical books, both on the subject of growing bonsai trees, with one boldly titled Bonsai for Americans, sat stacked together untouched. 

"You interested in bonsai? Terry was trying to grow those years ago... I'd like to say I've got half of a green thumb, but I've never been able to keep one alive," Becky said, looking at the books and then back to Brenner's faintly wistful expression. 

"I used to have one. They require a great deal of dedication and certain conditions," Brenner replied softly. He never knew Terry even had a fascination for plants, but he supposed he never cared to know much of her personally. Suddenly he felt out of place here with this... feeling, this emotion of sudden sadness for longing to have known her, was not him. It was unlike him to care to this point of connection. Was it only because she had carried his daughter? Eleven was the reason he was really here in the first place. He glanced back to Becky, struggling to harden his expression, and moved to accept the tea from her. She took a double look and then a closer stare at him. 

"Hang on... Do I know you? You're looking kinda familiar," Becky questioned curiously.

"You may remember me from the hospital," he answered gently. There was no sense hiding his identity for this. Becky's eyes grew wide in unfolding realization. 

"Oh my God. You're Dr. Martin Brenner." He nodded in affirmation and Becky instinctively took a step back and appeared slightly shook as she fumbled for a cigarette. She shook her head and let out a breath through her nose as if she couldn't believe it. Resignation entered her face and she sighed.

"Well, so this is it, isn't it? You're finally come to take her away, right?" Becky put a protective hand on Terry's shoulder and smoothed the top of her head, fingers cascading down her hair absently. Brenner frowned at the assumption.

"No, no, Ms. Ives. I think you misunderstand. I'm not going to be taking away anyone today, but your sister is the one I'd like to discuss to you about." 

"Oh. I see. Um, how about we talk in the kitchen, then?" Becky offered and her hospitality was now at a simmer. Brenner agreed and picked up his briefcase before heading after Becky into the small kitchen. He pulled out a knobbly chair and sat down across from her with his tea and her face appeared stained  with worry. Brenner thought it would be wise to take this a little slow. 

"Would it be okay with you to talk about what happened to your sister?" Brenner asked, trying to sound as light as he could. Becky lit her cigarette and inhaled with trepidation.

"So you're really 'The Man,' with a big capital 'M' that Terry was always referring to, huh?" 

"Yes, if that's applicable, then I suppose so." 

Becky stared at him for a long time and he watched back placidly. People never intimidated him. 

"Can I ask you something first?" Becky finally spoke tentatively. 

"Certainly."

"I hate to really ask this, so forgive me here, but I don't remember you having all those scars. What the heck happened to you?"

"I had an unfortunate hunting accident with my son last year," Brenner smoothly lied. He wasn't hardly surprised she asked about his face, but it reminded him he had to be careful with his impression.  

"Really, you hunt? My father was into hunting as well, mostly deer around these parts, you know, but one day he accidentally fell down a ravine and got scrapped up pretty bad. Mom was pissed when he didn't come back until way after dark," Becky recounted and Brenner pretended to be engrossed. 

"This was something similar, but let's just say it involved falling from a tree stand twenty feet up and being lucky enough to get twenty stitches at the hospital," Brenner elaborated and Becky shook her head. 

"Damn, that's awful. You be careful out there."

"Well, I'm not in a hurry to get back into it at my age," he grinned and the words felt odd to say. Everything about this visit felt off so far and he knew it. Lies came easy to him with some research beforehand, but this extra deception had him forcing himself to almost be someone else that he didn't care to be. Luckily, Becky seemed ready to move on with the subject as she eyed his briefcase that he was pulling up into his lap, unfastening it and pulling out manila folders. He spread them out on the table and picked out a few sheets of crisp white documents. Time to feed her the partial fabrication and falsehoods. 

"What's all this?" Becky asked with interest as he laid them out in front of her. 

"As you may know, your sister Terry was involved in a portion of the Project MKUltra program, which I am ashamed to admit I had supervised locally in Hawkins at the time," Brenner started and Becky nodded.

"Yeah, I recall she was part of a government program. She needed the money and she believed all that 'expand the boundaries of the mind' stuff. I thought it was real hippie crap - no offense. Telepathy, telekinesis... all these things you can supposedly do with your mind and she thought she could. I never saw her do anything like that. I thought she was kidding herself, I mean none of that stuff is even remotely real, is it?"

"I'm afraid not. We conducted somewhat rigorous tests and experiments to try to prove otherwise on volunteers. Every participant from my program had the option to sign before fully commiting. Perhaps your sister didn't know what she was involving herself in. I'm sorry if Terry was mishandled at times, but I assure you, the vast majority of her accusations were completely baseless and untrue. There is no substantial evidence, particularly in Terry's case, of any such alleged abuse." 

"Well, yeah, I kind of figured that. The press ran with these crazy rumors and some of it I think is actually real, but not what happened to Terry. She had lawyers and everything and even they couldn't verify one bit of her claims. It was pretty upsetting for her..." 

Brenner nodded and pushed forward one file that Becky took and flipped through while he spoke.

"I thought you might like to see your sister's medical records. I'm sorry to say that Terry was very mentally ill. She suffered, and was clinically diagnosed, with severe schizophrenia. Common symptoms include paranoia, hallucinations, desultory behavior..." 

"Yeah, I know what it is," Becky cut him off and took a drag on the cigarette. She let out a lengthy sigh.

"I mean, it doesn't really surprise me. Terry was always, you know, she believed in a lot of things people normally don't really look into. Even as a kid she was highly imaginative and she really let herself go when she got older into college. Trust me, the drugs messed her up good even before your program gave her LSD, acid, all that shit. Hell, it was the '60s and she was one that got really into the movement, but kinda let reality and everything else take a back seat. At least that's what I could pick up; she wouldn't tell me much. God knows what she really did that I never knew about and then the next thing I know is that she comes to me telling me that she's pregnant. Great, right? But I knew the drugs were going to complicate it and she miscarried in her third trimester at the hospital... I remember you and the other doctors telling me you couldn't save the baby and... well, you know what happened." Becky paused to take a shaky breath and put out her cigarette.

"You know, why am I just being shown this, all these years later? Why didn't you tell me back in the '70s?"  

"Declassification. The process tends to take a long time. And I suppose it helps that I'm finally retiring." 

Becky visually accepted the answer and continued flipping through the pages. Of course, Brenner knew from the inside that the "proof" was only created. He'd had the documents meticulously manufactured and forged by experts. Becky was oblivious and skeptical enough of her sister's story, it was easy to fool her. She took another breath and picked back up on her side of the story. 

"Terry was hysterical at the hospital when I told her there was no baby. She insisted on Jane's existence for years. She said the 'big, bad Man stole Jane away' and that her baby's 'a weapon off fighting the commies' and I didn't know what to tell her. There are no records of any child existing and I don't suppose you're going to sit here and show me that there is," Becky explained with long standing frustration and rummaged through all the paperwork with dim despair. Of course there was no record, at least for anyone besides Brenner himself to see. Eleven's birth certificate would never see the light of day as long as he was alive and he would have a bullet put in Becky's head if she attempted to probe further. It would be easy to eliminate her; no extended close family and he doubted she had many friends now, if any at all. Unlike that diner owner Benny Hammond, she didn't own a business. There would be no lengthy paper trail, no real suspicion... except for one person. When the time was right, he had to ask her about him in the least conspicuous way possible.  

"I'm very sorry, Ms. Ives." Brenner looked down for a moment, pretending to study the wood grains in the table. He didn't really have remorse, for it was Terry's own fault for thinking the baby would have been hers to keep. He would have made her a bargain to let her stay with Eleven at HNL as long as she remained a lifelong patient as well, but he had known her enough that she would rather die than submit to that offer. Everyone had to make sacrifices at some point, especially when in the midst of war.

"She had a room all set up upstairs, she even already picked out a name. She was going to name the baby Jane." Becky sounded ready to cry and Brenner didn't reply. Jane. Such irony in life, for it was the most plainest name; a name used to identify the anonymous, the victims, the unknown deceased females on death records. He was surprised at Terry's lack of originality. The real "Jane" was anything but ordinary; Eleven was extraordinary and it would stay that way for the rest of her life under his care.

"May I see this room?" Brenner asked Becky tenderly.

"Uh, sure. It's just upstairs," Becky responded when a quick wipe at her eyes and they both stood up, leaving the kitchen to walk up the creaky wooden stairs. Becky opened the door to the nursery frozen in unused time and Brenner stopped in his tracks a couple feet into the room. The entire room was an assault of cheery yellow walls and assortment of framed artworks, including the rabbit from Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, and several miscellaneous knickknacks decorating the space. A colorful clown mobile suspended over the sturdy wooden crib that took center stage and a single milk chocolate brown teddy bear took the place of where an infant would've laid. Brenner stepped slowly over to the crib and looked down. He leaned an arm over to carefully pick up the bear while Becky watched him with her arms crossed against her chest. 

"She's kept this all up for... oh, I think we're going on thirteen years now. Terry always thought Jane was going to come home."

The only tragic aspect about Terry Ives had been her naive optimism, Brenner was convinced. She should have thought through the entire situation more carefully and had only cooperated and listened to him. Why were some women so stubborn? Eleven seemed to have had inherited this drawback as well. Brenner held the teddy bear in his arms gingerly and ran a hand over the stuffed animal's fuzzy face. It was perfect.    

"I have an 18 month old granddaughter who would absolutely love this. Do you mind if I have it?" 

Becky was slightly taken aback, but gave him permission after a moment.

"If you want to, I guess. It's not like it really has to be in here anymore. I should have taken all this down years ago, but I didn't want to upset Terry even more," Becky replied, almost with an emotionless laugh. Brenner turned around and thanked her.

"Sure. I hope your granddaughter enjoys it. At least someone will get use out of it," Becky smiled weakly with her hand on the door frame. Brenner returned her the smile and nodded.

"She's quite precocious and loves anything soft that she can get her hands on. Children are something, aren't they?" 

A pure sadness formed over Becky's face that was undeniable.

"I wouldn't know." 

He gave her a glance slathered in sympathy that was only insincere to him. It was time to conclude this visit before he ended up overstaying his welcome. 

"I should get going," Brenner offered and checked his watch. Becky seemed relieved and moved away from the door and back down the stairs. A lamp blinked on and off for a minute on the wall, followed by a couple more lights leading into the living room and Becky rolled her eyes.

"Stupid faulty wiring... I really need to get this house checked..." She trailed off and Brenner went to take a sip of tea, out of courtesy, back in the kitchen before starting to bid her goodbye.

"Thank you for your time, Ms. Ives. I hope I haven't been a burden."

"No, not at all. I don't get too many visitors around here. It's funny though because just last year I actually had the chief of Hawkins police come by with this mother who was looking for her missing son. You may have heard about the case?"

"Yes, I was aware. What did you tell them?"

"I mentioned about Terry and he seemed pretty interested in her case and I told him, 'you and Terry would've gotten along' because he seemed to think the government was in on all of it." 

"Do you personally believe that?" Brenner asked her mildly.

"I don't know. You've told and shown me more today than I could ever get from the newspaper or even other people from the government. I think we all want the straight answer, but I think it's more complicated. I don't think everyone's to blame," Becky answered and Brenner tried not to show his pleasure. It wasn't too hard to convince Becky Ives and this made his job easier. He hadn't even had to pry all that much.

"Thank you for your trust. I deeply apologize for your sister's condition. We did what we thought we could at the time." Brenner pulled a card out of his pocket and handed it to her.

"If you ever feel the need to privately contact me, please do. And please also consider the option of permanent hospital care for Terry in the years to come, although I completely understand if you wish to continue caring for her here at home." 

"Okay. Thanks for stopping by and telling me all of this. Really. I'm going to need some time to think it over and what this all means exactly, but this has really helped finalize things a bit for me," Becky responded as she moved down the hallway to the front door. Brenner glanced as he walked past the room with Terry still rocking, but he noticed a new strain upon her face that hadn't been there before. He wished he could spend more time with her, but that wasn't possible with her sister hovering.

"Well, good day to you, Ms. Ives," he parted and stepped out the door to begin walking back to the car waiting for him. The day felt even hotter now and it would be a relief to get back to the cool laboratory. 

Becky gave a small wave and then the door closed into finality. Brenner reached the vehicle and opened the back door, tossing the teddy bear and empty briefcase he'd picked back up from the kitchen in the backseat. He wondered if this was the last he'd see of the Ives. Surely it would be interesting to take Terry back under experimentation, but he'd just planted too much trust and assurance into Becky to uproot her. Maybe it was best to let bygones be bygones. After all, he had what he really wanted. Eleven didn't need to know her mother; it was unnecessary when she depended so much on him. 

"All set, sir?" The agent asked as Brenner took his seat. 

"Let's go." 

The black sedan backed out and left the Ives property, and drove off down the dusty road. 

HAWKINS NATIONAL LABORATORY, HAWKINS INDIANA

5:00 PM

Eleven sat up in her crib when Papa came in through the door to her room and she noticed both his hands were behind his back. She'd been quite bored all day, confined to the bars, with only a nurse coming in to feed her briefly at noon. She wanted to play with the toys on the floor, but she couldn't reach them, so she spent hours with nothing much to do but stare at the ceiling tiles and suck on the pacifier Papa had given her. It gave her the same sensation of her bottle and she liked the feeling of it in her mouth. 

"Eleven, I have something very special for you," Brenner announced, keeping his hands tightly behind him. Eleven let the pacifier drop out of her mouth and she pulled herself up to her feet, using the bars as support. What did Papa have? Milk? Food? Toy? She hoped it wasn't a test. 

"I have a friend for you," Brenner stated simply. 

"Friend?" Eleven asked, her hopes rising. Was it a real friend, one of her friends that she missed so much? She frowned and craned her neck, trying to look around him. How could a friend hide behind Papa? 

Brenner brought the teddy bear around to his front and Eleven's initial hope evaporated, but her eyes lit up at the sight of the new object.  

"This is Mr. Teddy Bear and he's going to keep you and Mr. Lion company." 

Eleven reached out an arm through the bars to touch the stuffed bear. Brenner smiled and set it down on the cot momentarily so he could unlock and lower her crib bars. He handed her the bear and she hugged it close to her chest, breathing in the scent of the fur. She paused at the smell. Mr. Teddy Bear didn't smell like Papa or the Lab. The faint odor was not unpleasant nor significantly strong and she tried to think of where she had smelled this similar scent before... Finally it dawned on her: Will's mother. It reminded her of being hugged close to the woman and her scent that Eleven had never smelled on someone before. Papa had always smelled nice, but that was different. An inexplicable sadness washed over her and she rubbed her face into the stuffed animal, trying to hide the tears welling up in her eyes so Papa wouldn't see. She hardly noticed the door close and his absence after a minute and couldn't understand why she felt this way. It was only a new soft toy, wasn't it? Eleven curled up to sleep with her new friend and put the lion down at her feet. She felt the peculiar feeling like she was missing something, but she hadn't had the slightest idea where to even look.  

Chapter Text

July 2, 1984 2:00 PM

HAWKINS NATIONAL LABORATORY, HAWKINS INDIANA 

The door squeaked open and Brenner frowned at the noise; that would have to be inspected and fixed soon. He closed it shut behind him and surveyed the scene in front of him with a smile; Eleven was seated on the floor with her Mr. Teddy Bear, who stared back unblinkingly at his long awaited companion while she carefully was placing one red wooden block on top of a blue one. Brenner had let her have an hour of playtime this afternoon, knowing she was happy to be out of the crib for a change, before he took her off for testing soon. The teddy bear had been her inseparable companion ever since he had given it to her and it was turning out to be a good reward and something to keep her occupied for the long hours in her nursery. He was glad his visit to the Ives had been done and was over with, although it had left a bit of staining residue in his mind, even after he'd tried to scrub it from his synapses. Something about Terry Ives was still bothering him and haunting him mercilessly. He had the child she had carried, but he didn't have her. All this time after the ECT treatment, he had thought her catatonic state to be useless and he had purposely left her alone for the rest of her life in the care of Becky Ives, yet a few weeks ago she had quietly (unconsciously?) proven to him she still somehow held her abilities deep inside. Part of him ached to bring her back to HNL, but he didn't want Eleven to come in contact with her, for who knew if she would remember her mother? It could jeopardize his entire operation; it was a risk and not one he was willing to take (despite the tantalizing temptation of combining child and mother to see how their abilities worked together) because of the added complications... namely, how to put a discreet bullet in Becky's brain, orchestrate another cover up... not to mention inform and get Sam Owens, who was someone he had intentionally kept in the dark about the Ives visit last month, on board with the idea itself. Unlikely. Nevertheless, the potential chewed at his subconscious. 

"Papa!" Eleven cried out, abruptly pulling his thoughts out with a single word.   

"Very good, Eleven," Brenner automatically praised without emotion and went to crouch down beside her. She pushed a yellow block towards him with her hand and he picked it up, absently turning it over and over until an invisible pull released it from his fingers back to hers. She placed it with confidence onto the blue block and Brenner shifted into a seated position, resting his leg outwards and balancing himself with his hand to the floor as he watched her interact with the toys. He noticed she used a balance of her telekinesis and normal human functions to move her toys, and he felt pride in how far she had come to using her power as normally as any other sense. That would be useful in the future. 

Eleven picked up a primary colored rattle and shook it with her hand before throwing it with a clatter across the floor. Brenner reached over and retrieved it as Eleven watched with some excitement. He shook it in front of her while he grabbed one of her favorite toys, plastic rainbow keys, from the floor to divert her attention while he tossed the rattle to the other side of the room. She hardly noticed where the rattle went, to his disappointment, and instead grasped at the keys with noises of frustration as he held them away. They were going to have to work on her weakness of tending to be easily distracted. He let her have the keys this time and stood up as she contently mouthed on them. Brenner stood up and moved the rattle back to her side and sighed. Sam wasn't the only one who could play with her, but why did it have to be him who was tending to have more one-on-one success with her lately? Brenner couldn't understand why she responded better to him directing her through a task, but was more lacking with her own Papa. He was grateful his colleague would be busy away with William Byers for the routine check-up today, instead of spending time in a unspoken tug of war over Eleven. 

3:00 PM 

Will shifted his body slightly on the exam table and glanced over at Hopper, who was in his typical stance by the wall, and noticed how much more quiet than usual he was being for this visit. Will knew he didn't want to cause fireworks like the last time he had starting asking questions and Will didn't blame him one bit. Sometimes it just wasn't worth the fight. The nurse was busy sticking electrodes and Dr. Owens stood in the background with a dusty blue colored file folder in his hands as Will felt a sudden urge and he squirmed again on the table. The nurse told him to stay still and Will tried to suppress the pressing feeling down there. Boy, was this going to be kind of embarrassing.   

"Could I please go use the bathroom?" Will sheepishly spoke up softly and the nurse looked immediately annoyed.

"Can't it wait until after we're done here?"

"Um, I really gotta go," Will admitted. He had to pee so bad now, it wasn't even funny. The nurse looked to Dr. Owens for direction and he looked up from the paperwork, cocking a grin.

"Hey, when nature calls. Here, I'll show you to the restroom," Owens replied, motioning to Will to join him at the door after the nurse yanked off the electrodes and Will winced at the slight stings from the removal of the tape. He quickly followed Owens out the door, feeling Hopper's silent stare, but he didn't say a word. Owens took him to an elevator and they stepped inside. He punched the button to go down one floor and the elevator roughly lurched along with Will's stomach. Even the elevators at this place weren't comfortable. 

"You'd think we'd have one on every floor, but nope," Owens commented about the bathrooms as the elevator went down and Will just stared straight ahead at the dull gray metal. He was trying to think of anything but pissing his underwear at the moment. The elevator bell dinged and they exited through the gap between the sliding doors opening to a long hallway. Owens nudged Will's elbow with his own.  

"You nervous, kiddo?" 

Will swallowed before answering. 

"Yeah." He did feel a little nervous, despite this being just the usual check-up, and Hopper's compliant silence wasn't helping. However, had also drank a whole can of Coke before coming here, so maybe that was the reason for his jittery nerves.  

"I know the feeling." Owens sighed and Will took a glance at him curiously, but before he could reply, the doctor briskly pointed ahead. 

"Down this hall, to your right, and it'll be the first door you see on the right. And watch out for the second urinal, it's been having trouble flushing," Owens directed him and Will walked hurriedly down the hall, turned a corner, and then found a steel cold door marked with a male figure. He pushed it open to a decent sized restroom with three urinals and two stalls. He went to the first urinal and relieved himself, trying to ignore how the ringing silence was punctuated by the sound of his steady stream. Normally he could hold it and he'd never even gone to the bathroom at the Lab before, but he just couldn't restrain himself today. Once he finished, Will washed his hands up at the sink and noticed his fingers were trembling. He turned the water off and it dripped too loudly in the empty space as he felt an odd swirling queasiness, as if he'd just been spun around ten times. There was an pang in his stomach and it noisily gurgled. Maybe it was just the soda digesting? Will glanced up at himself in the mirror and staggered backwards at what he saw looking back at him. His face, gaunt and as pale as a corpse, was surrounded by the Upside Down...?! Thick, inky black tendrils wrapped around the walls and stall doors behind him in the reflection and spores floated softly under the flickering florescent lights. The feeling of nausea was growing and he gagged, rushing off into one of the stalls. Will flung his head into the toilet, coughing profusely at the water. He felt like there was a golf ball lodged in his throat and he choked, grabbing at his neck desperately... Finally he hacked out a slimy dark blob that plopped in with a splosh and Will, horrified, grabbed at the handle to flush as the blob - no, the creature - flailed and splashed in the bowl like a oversized, disgusting tadpole. Will plunged the handle down and it was sucked away by the water, draining down and out of sight in seconds. Will stood up shakily from the toilet and backed out of the stall, the door banging behind him, and he went back to the sink to see his frightened face in the mirror. The Upside Down all around him was completely gone and only the dull bathroom remained. Will wondered briefly if there were cameras in here and he stared around at the ceiling to spot one, but there was only a humming air vent above him. He heaved huge gulps of air unriddled with spores and gripped the sides of the sink.  

"Will? You almost done in there?" The loud voice of Dr. Owens suddenly sounded from outside the restroom door and Will jumped, banging the back of his hand on the silver faucet head. 

"Yeah, just a minute!" Will called back and his face burned. This was reminding him of every time Mom would drag him someplace shopping and she would wait outside until he was done. She hadn't done that since he'd been in first grade and now he felt like he was six years old again. Will steadied his breathing and hurriedly pushed his hair back into the right flops while trying to arrange his face into a somewhat normal expression. He stopped for a minute at the door before pulling it open and starting to walk away when a distant shuffling noise made him pause in his tracks. Suddenly a little girl's voice spoke from somewhere distinctly behind him and Will whirled around. 

"Papa, Papa, Papa..." 

Will gasped and flung himself against the tiled wall as a man - Dr. Brenner - went walking past down at the end of the hallway and someone, who appeared to be a chunky child with a shaved head, dressed in strange clothes that looked like pajamas crawled after him, following the swishing of his slacks and the soft clap of his cap-toe shoes. Will blinked, wondering if he was cracking up again. Was he hallucinating? And then they were gone, out of sight down the other hall in the maze of Hawkins Lab. Will walked slowly back the way he had come to the restroom, continually glancing over his shoulder at the now empty yawning hall, and then hesitantly peered around the corner. Dr. Owens was standing at the end of the hallway, chatting to a security guard. Will took a breath, wishing his heart would stop pounding in his ears, and tried to compose himself as he walked towards his doctor. Owens turned to him once he was close and smiled. 

"Did ya fall in?" Owens joked with a chuckle and Will found himself thinking that falling into a toilet would've been less weirder than what he just experienced back in the bathroom and what he had witnessed moments ago. 

"You okay, Will?" Owens spoke in a tone more serious, his eyes raking over Will's pale face.

"I'm okay," Will replied with a lie and nodded before following him back to the exam room. The nurse rushed to put the electrodes back on his head and took his blood pressure again as Will stared ahead unblinking. Why was this happening again to him? Had he just thrown up another of... whatever it was he had expelled out from his body last year at Christmas? He hadn't felt this off since then and why did it have to happen here of all places? Would it happen again and what if he didn't make it to a sink or a toilet next time?

"Your vitals are bit high." The nurse interrupted his silent worries and moved to take his wrist, feeling his pulse.

"Your pulse is racing," the nurse reported with slight surprise and Owens frowned, leaning forward on his seat to inspect.  

"Are you sure you're feeling alright?"  

Will nodded again and willed his heart to calm down, but he could tell Owens didn't believe him. Hopper shifted a bit from his place and the nurse continued the examination, keeping a hand on his wrist. Owens asked him the same questions as he usually did, but Will stumbled through the part of having nightmares or visions and Owens seemed confused.

"So you have or you haven't had any?" 

"No - I mean, not really. I-I had a nightmare the other night, but it wasn't about the Upside Down or anything." Another half baked lie and Will realized he was beginning to become a pretty crappy liar. Owens raised his eyebrows and took a look at Hopper.

"You concur with that, Pop?" 

Hopper shrugged and Will felt his face redden again. He wished Owens wouldn't refer to him as that; it wasn't like Hopper was his dad or anything. 

"Joyce hasn't shared anything alarming with me," Hopper replied causally. That was probably true; even though Mom had been sleeping with him lately, she was relatively unaware of what he was dreaming. 

Owens nodded, but still seemed fairly skeptical, yet he didn't press the issue and they finished up. Will felt relief that he was a patient of Dr. Owens rather than being Dr. Brenner's. But maybe someone else was...

4:30 PM

Will faced the window of Hopper's truck and watched the dappled green sunlit foliage roll by on Mirkwood. It was hot today and the seat was stubbornly sticking to his T-shirt. Hopper cleared his throat over the low rumble of the engine.

"Something you're not telling me, Will?" 

Will shook his head 'no' and kept his eyes on the glass. He side-eyed when Hopper then abruptly pulled the truck off to the side of the road to a halting stop and opened the door, slamming it behind him. Will pushed his own door open and jumped out. 

"What?" he asked defensively as Hopper stood against the hood, arms folded, and with a glowering expression.

"C'mon, kid. You look like you've seen a ghost." 

Maybe he had. Was that crawling kid he saw actually had been Eleven? And he knew Mike thought Dr. Brenner himself was dead, but of course that wasn't true. In any case, Will shook his head and deflected Hopper's question. 

"I'm just tired. I hate going to that place."

Hopper lowered his arms and deflated with a loud sigh and swatted at a few bugs orbiting his head.

"You wanna walk the rest of the way? I'm not taking this truck anywhere with you until you tell me what the hell happened back there." 

Will's defenses diminished. He couldn't keep lying to Hopper; this was too important. He couldn't bring himself to talk about what had happened personally to him, but he could mention the other incident. 

"It's just - I saw something at the Lab..." he started and Hop nodded to continue.

"I came out of the bathroom and I heard a weird noise. It was like a sort of shuffling sound and then a girl's voice kept calling out 'Papa'. I turned to look behind me and I saw him. Dr. Brenner. But he wasn't alone. There... there was a girl following behind him on the ground," Will confessed. Hopper stiffened and narrowed his eyes. 

"On the ground? Like what, doing - "

"Crawling," Will finished for him. 

"Crawling? Did she look hurt?" 

"No, she was just crawling. Like a little kid, you know?"

Hopper rubbed his hands into his scruffy face, but signaled for Will to keep talking.  

"She was wearing some kind of pajamas. Not a hospital gown, though it was white with a pattern like one. I dunno, it was like those footie pj's they sell for babies, but larger size." As he explained, he felt foolish. It sounded odd and Hopper's stare was getting uncomfortable.

"And then what?"

"That was it. I saw them for only a few seconds and then they were out of sight going down the other way." 

Hopper didn't say anything for a minute and Will felt a fly buzz by his ear. It was too hot outside and he wished he was eating ice cream in front of the TV at home. 

"What the hell..." Hop muttered under his breath while rubbing his short beard before addressing Will.  

"I don't know exactly what you saw, but don't go looking. I don't want you getting hurt for seeing something you're not supposed to see," Hopper told him firmly. 

"Okay... but do you think it could've been her?" 

"Who?" Hop asked, averting his eyes, but Will knew that he knew full well who he meant. 

"Eleven. What if it was her?"

"Did this kid even look like her? You said she was wearing baby pajamas, not a gown. God knows who the hell it was. Maybe he has other kids there." 

"But she had a shaved head. She looked kinda larger though, not really skinny. What if he did something to her?" 

Hopper shook his head.

"Don't start running away with ideas. It's probably someone else."

Will stared down at his sneakers and thought about it. He hadn't seen her face clearly, only from side profile, and he hadn't been in the best shape when he saw her and Brenner. Maybe Hopper was right. But it wasn't benefiting the burgeoning feeling in his chest. How was he going to talk to Mike now? Was it worth it to tell him what he possibly witnessed? They hadn't spoken much since the argument in the woods and Mike avoided any subject that hinted at it. Will felt like he was to blame for everything.

"I wish none of this had ever happened to me or this town. It's my fault we have to go to that stupid lab and never get any answers. I hate that monster and the Upside Down. It's my fault it found me. Maybe I'm just weak!" Will vented out and Hopper took a step towards him. 

"Don't say that ever again to me, kid. It's not your fault. None of this is. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time. I don't know why that monster picked you like it picked anyone else. Some people say there's a reason for everything that happens, but all I know is if that you hadn't disappeared, I don't know if I would have found her. El. She might've never escaped that hellhole in the first place, but I don't want you to think that they can take you too. I won't let that happen. Your mom won't let me let that happen. She'd kill me first." Hopper grabbed and pulled Will into a sudden bear hug, ruffling his bowl cut, for a moment before stepping back and Will looked up at him. 

"You know, she loves you. Mom loves you even if she won't tell you," Will told him sincerely with a quiver in his voice. Hopper swallowed and glanced away at the trees. 

"That's good to hear, kid, but your mother's got someone else in her life right now," he gruffly muttered and the clinking of keys broke the moment as he pulled them of out his jeans and starting walking towards the driver's side of the Chevy.

"Let's get you home, kid."

Chapter Text

August 15, 1984 1:30 PM

HAWKINS NATIONAL LABORATORY, HAWKINS INDIANA

The dark building loomed before Will and Hopper, not too dissimilar to a huge chunk of unmovable granite blocking out the sunny sky and casting shadows strewn about on the hard ground in the warm, still afternoon. 

"So where was this bathroom you went to last time, kid?" Hopper asked casually as they walked to the entrance. 

"Um, down a floor from the exam room," Will answered and glanced at the Chief curiously. Hopper didn't meet his eyes and only grunted in reply before they were guided in by security and he handed over his pistol due to confiscation for the duration of the visit. Once in the usual exam room, the nurse hovered over as Will changed into a hospital gown and Hopper approached a broad shouldered security guard at the door.

"Mind if I step out for a minute to go take a leak? Drank too much coffee this morning." 

The man gave a sharp nod in response and escorted Hopper to the elevator and, just as Will had recounted, they went down a level and into a lengthy hall, where the man led him around a corner and they reached the men's restroom.

"Two minutes," the guard grumbled. Hopper affixed his eyes over his shoulder down the empty hallway and the guard squinted suspiciously with his heavy eyebrows knitted together.  

"Hey, I think I know that guy. Used to be an officer of mine!" Hopper exclaimed, raising a hand in greeting and the guard turned his head to look. 

"What're - "

Hopper pulled his curled fist back and sharply hit the man directly to the face, knocking him to the floor. He leaned over as the man struggled to get back up on his feet, nose dripping blood, and they struggled for a moment until Hopper gave him another crushing blow to his thick skull. He shook his head at the man's unconscious body crumpled on the floor.  

"You just fell for the oldest trick in the book, buddy." 

He quickly rummaged through the man's uniform for a keycard of some kind, knowing it was only a matter of time before someone saw on the cameras and sent the cavalry after him. A thin plastic numbered keycard fell out of the shirt pocket and Hopper caught it, tucking it in his own pocket before standing up and walking fast past the bathroom. He strode through the halls that were, so far, devoid of life until he heard a commanding male voice he hated to recognize up ahead. 

"Come, Eleven." 

A high pitched whining noise followed the voice and Hopper slowed down his footsteps.  

"Papa..." 

That was very much Eleven's voice. 

"No, Eleven. Mr. Teddy Bear has to stay behind. You can have him afterwards if you are a good girl," Dr. Brenner's voice softly spoke from around a corner.

Hopper pressed himself against the wall, barely breathing as the sounds gradually faded away. He ducked around the corner and saw the gray-suited back of Brenner and his eyes widened at the person following on hands and knees on the floor after him. She was dressed in a white one piece suit that was very much like a sleeper for infants with equally white booties covering her feet. Hopper sucked in a breath as the two left his line of sight and his eyes met the floor to see the spoken-of brown stuffed teddy bear left behind, lying on its back in front of an open door to what he presumed had to be her room. A security guard - this one was skinny compared to the hunk he had just dealt with back at the restroom - was bending down to retrieve the toy and Hopper stepped forward as quietly as he could before the man's head snapped up in surprise. He didn't even have enough time to utter an exclamation when Hopper tackled him, clamping a hand around his mouth and swiftly decking him in the side of his head. He lowered the man, who was as lightweight as he looked, letting him fall back and slump against the wall. Hopper snatched the teddy bear up from the floor and turned towards the open room. He passed a glance down at the bear and paused at the sudden flash of remembrance. 

Sara.

"Daddy, wait!" 

"What is it, sweetheart?" 

"I can't go sleep without Teddy!" 

"Well, you know Mommy had to give him a little bath after you dragged him all over the park this afternoon, but..." Hopper reminded her with a chuckle as he sneakily reached a hand behind him to retrieve the bear from on top of the dresser and his young daughter's face lit up with eagerness. He brought the stuffed animal to her and she hugged him tightly to her chest, inhaling the soft, clean linen scent leftover from the dryer sheet that Diane had rubbed all over the bear earlier. 

"How about one last bedtime story for my girl, huh?" Hopper asked, coming to sit down beside her with a children's book. He flung his fingers out suddenly to tickle her unsuspecting tummy and she let out a squeal with a stream of giggles.

"Daddy! Daddy! Da-Dada...!"

The memory fizzled away as quickly as it had bubbled up to the surface. Hopper closed his eyes as the familiar mental pain stabbed through the awful truth of knowing that bear would never find a place in her arms ever again. Now it lay abandoned in his grandpa's old hunting cabin out in the woods, along with every other piece from his shambled past. Hopper shook his thoughts away and focused on what was in front of him; presumably Eleven's room. For a moment, he figured he had been mistaken. There was no way this was a preteen girl's room.

"What the hell?" He gasped at the set-up. A large crib, about as tall as him, sat before him with a stuffed lion resting on its paws on the mattress inside. Wait a minute... that was El's old lion he recognized from the first time he broke into this place. More questions than answers raced around his brain and he walked closer, dropping the teddy bear without notice limply to the floor, next to a handful of colorful young children's toys on the floor. He stared more around the room. No, it was more a nursery, not a room. The scent of baby powder caught his nose and he found the source of it; a cot against the wall by the door had a container of the stuff and a package of cleaning wipes. His eyes followed to the folded white disposable diapers neatly stacked next to the supplies. No, no way. This wasn't a kid's room. It couldn't be hers.

A drawing plastered to the wall across from the crib stood out to Hopper. He peered closer at it to see a stick figure sketch of a small child behind bars and a spindly tall man standing nearby. The stick figures were labeled in crude handwriting:

PaPa.

11. 

The rest of the page was drowned out in scribbles of brightly colored crayon marks of chaotic spirals and scribbles, as if drawn by a two year old. Hopper stumbled backwards, nearly crushing the bear under his feet, as the thudding sound of footsteps thundered outside in the hall.

"HEY!" 

Men's voices yelled in unison and Hopper spun around as a throng of guards marched in and accosted him, dragging him out into the hallway. He groaned as two pairs of strong arms shoved him to the wall, his chin slamming into the cold tiles. 

"HANDS UP!" 

Hopper complied. He supposed he should feel lucky that he was able to get this far in his search. As he was forcibly hauled away, all that remained on his mind was that room and the telltale drawing. Of what he had expected to find here, even after what Will had described witnessing, this wasn't it. What had actually happened to El? 

Hopper hit stone hard flooring minutes later with a thump in a small dim room that had a single, dangling light bulb in the center of the ceiling. He staggered up to his feet and lunged at one of the guardsmen, grabbing him by his army green shirt collar, attempting to throw him off, but another man came from the side and struck Hopper bluntly to the stomach. He wheezed, doubling over, and the keycard slipped out his pocket to the floor with a slap. He ironically hadn't even needed it, but his chances of sneaking out with it were now nonexistent.

"What's this you got here?" One of the men stooped down and nabbed it, showing it to his fellows with an ill-humored snort. He shoved it under Hopper's nose and jeered. 

"You thought this would be your key to the castle, huh? Made you feel like a big, important man with your badge? But you're not such a big man now, are you?"

"You got a pretty big vocabulary for an MP," Hopper bit back and the man roughly thrust him to the ground. All thoughts left Hopper then as nothing but white hot pain buzzed into him suddenly, coursing like lightening pulsing into his veins with the force of a train wreck. His body collapsed, writhing in agony with his face pressed to the floor that smelled faintly of bleach. A brief lull in the electroshock and then another hit had him shuddering uncontrollably until it finally ceased with dull footsteps, dimming in sound over the ringing in his ears... soft then loud... and his eyes blurrily registered the tip of a shiny black shoe next to his chin. A familiar voice chastised from up above. 

"You never learn, do you?" 

Hopper couldn't even bring his throbbing head up to confirm, but he knew who that was without a doubt. The son of a bitch himself. 

"Look at me." 

A rough hand yanked Hopper's hair and his scalp screamed as his face was flung upwards. He spat blindly in the direction of the shuffling of shoes. He saw a dim outline through his half lidded eyes of the man and the halo of his white hair backlit by the light.  

"I have a warning for you, Chief, if you understand it at all. If you want no harm done to the boy and if you want to keep your access to this facility, you will comply." Brenner's voice was hushed yet strong as steel and Hopper coughed - it was all he could do - as the doctor then stepped out, closing the door crisply behind him to meet Dr. Owens in the hall.

"He's in no condition to leave this afternoon. I want you to drive the boy home instead." 

"And how am I going to explain the Chief's absence to his mother?"

"You should know what to say. You usually do." 

"Thanks a lot for always putting me in these kind of awkward situations, Martin. I hope you greatly appreciate this." Owens scoffed and turned on his heel to leave. 

3:30 PM

"Sorry about this, kiddo." Owens apologized as they left Hawkins Lab and he drove the short distance towards the Byers' house. The black sedan Will was seated in the passenger side of was the cleanest car he had ever been in and it smelled like a brand new car, too. This was all wrong, though; Hopper should here instead and Will should be comfortably in his Chevy that gave the aroma of coffee and cigarettes, sometimes woodsy pine... not some government car he was afraid to even breathe on. He wondered if he should think it nice of Dr. Owens to drive him home or if he was only pretending to be nice to cover up probably unkind actions. Trust wasn't a word he would associate with the doctor. 

"Is he going to be okay?" Will inquired quietly and Owens shook his head, waving a hand from the steering wheel.

"Oh yeah, don't worry about it too much." 

Will was silent for a moment.

"You're no different than him. Why don't you stop all this? Why don't you stand up?" Will rashly questioned with straining tension, unwilling to say Brenner's name out loud. Owens seemed taken aback by the comparison to his colleague and the proposition. 

"Will, I think you don't understand the complications. I'm the one who's trying to look out for you," he replied with notable botheration. 

"I think you don't really care," Will mumbled to the crystal clear window. 

"Now look here, young man, I have obligations that you hardly would even - " Owens stopped himself and sighed. He sounded no different then when he had tried to explain to his own son why he was always busy away from home. Why he couldn't explain exactly what Dad's job was other than some 'boring' government work. It was supposed to be so simple, but it never was. Will didn't deserve any of this either, more excuses and more monitoring. He should be just a normal boy... but that was impossible. Owens pulled the car shortly into the Byers gravel driveway and shut off the engine. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out, so he just opened his door and waited for Will to exit the vehicle. They went up together to the front door and Owens knocked loudly. Joyce opened the wooden door with surprise running across her face upon seeing them, then quickly trailed with her standard anxiety. 

"Dr. Owens? What's wrong? Where's Hopper? I thought he took Will to the appointment today," Joyce asked with apparent worry as she pulled Will into her arms and she smoothed his hair in comfort.

"Something came up at the station and the Chief had to take off before we were done. I thought it best to take Will home myself," Owens fabricated, trying not to sound as lame as he felt right now.

"Oh. Well, thank you for taking my boy home."

"It's not a problem at all, Ms. Byers. Have a good day," Owens curtly left to the sedan and Joyce closed the door. She was far from satisfied, though, and went straight to the phone on the wall in the hall to dial up a well-used number. 

"Hey, Hopper... it's Joyce. I just had Dr. Owens drop Will off here at home and everything's alright, but he said you were pretty busy and couldn't make it. Please just call me when you get this, okay?" 

Joyce hung up with a sigh and left towards Will's bedroom. He was flopped effortlessly on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. 

"Will, sweetie, I found this the other day when I was in your room and I was just wondering what this is?" Joyce asked with caution as he sat up too fast in panic. 

"Mom!" 

"I had to clean a few things," she explained sheepishly and held up the paper drawing. Will froze at the sight of his wrinkled sketch of Dr. Brenner from a couple months ago. 

"It was with this one," Joyce offered, holding up the other drawing of Dr. Owens, which was in better condition.

"I think I have a pretty good idea of who this is, but can you tell me who this is supposed to be?" Joyce pushed the one of Brenner towards him and her tone was gentle and unassuming considering the situation, but Will jumped off his bed to grab the drawings from her hands. 

"Hey..." Joyce frowned in concern as he shoved them under books on his desk. 

"It's just something I was working on for D&D." 

"It doesn't look like one of your elf or dwarf characters," Joyce pointed out. 

"It was just some guy I saw on TV, okay?! Why do you have to go through my stuff?!" Will threw out the words with the force of a fire spitting sparks and Joyce appeared slightly hurt. 

"I was just concerned, that's all... You know, if there's something you're keeping from me, it's okay. But I need to know if you're being hurt or scared. If there's more to this than normal check-ups with Dr. Owens. Please, baby." Joyce's voice was desperate and he could hear the undercurrent of fear behind her tone. Did she suspect it was Dr. Brenner?  

"Mom. Every time I go to the lab, I'm a little scared, but it doesn't mean I'm in trouble. Everything's okay. I'm fine." 

She hesitated at the door, resting a hand on the framing, before giving him a tiny, unbelievable smile. 

"Okay." 

Once she was gone, Will turned and punched his pillow angrily. He was sick of the lies, the absolute bullshit he dished out anytime anyone asked anything related to his appointments. Mike still wouldn't talk to him personally too much and he dreaded Mike was plotting his own plans without him. And then what would come of that? He'd get hurt, too. Hopper was wrong. This was all his own fault. Will felt guilty and foolish for being the one to accuse Dr. Owens of being cowardly and a 'yes-man'. Why couldn't he himself stand up? 

6:30 PM

HNL

"Hey, Chief."

Hopper rolled over on the pillow-less, thin and uncomfortable cot, rubbing his head at the flood of light entering the room. He sat up shakily and spat out on the floor. Owens stood before him, silhouetted by light.

"How ya feeling?"

"When are you gonna let me out of here?" 

"As soon as you are well enough to drive yourself home. Or, if need be, I can send a guy out to accompany you."

Hopper coughed and pinched the bridge of his nose. This was a thousand times worse than a hangover. 

"I need you to tell me something, Chief," Owens urgently stated. 

"Like I would tell you jack shit." 

"No, listen to me. I want to ask you about Eleven." 

Hopper's head swung up and he laughed humorlessly. 

"Yeah, let's talk about Eleven. You wanna explain why you've got a girl crawling around and wearing diapers? What the hell did the bastard do to her?!" 

"Never mind any of that. Tell me about her. What does she like?"

"You mean besides her freedom?" 

"How about what she likes to eat. What was her favorite food?" 

Hopper didn't answer for a long moment. He wasn't sure what kind of game they were playing at Hawkins Lab, but it seemed like a sick one. He gave Owens the benefit of the doubt for the moment, though. 

"She liked waffles. She loved those Eggos." 

"Thanks, Chief-O. And don't worry, we'll have you outta here very soon, as long as you're up for it."

Hopper didn't give him the satisfaction of a reply to that and watched the light drain away as the door closed and darkness enveloped his aching body.

8:00 PM

Eleven sat up in her crib at the sound of the door and her face scrunched up in confusion. Papa? He put her to bed an hour ago and it was past her bedtime. She blinked as Dr. Owens approached her with a small plate of food in his hands.

"You awake, kiddo? I have a little treat for ya. I thought you might like these." 

He unlocked her crib with the spare key Martin had thankfully entrusted him with to use only in case of an emergency, and dropped down the the bars to hold out the plate to her. A warm scent wafted towards her. Eggos. Her mouth and eyes watered. 

"I know it's late, but it's never too late in the day for breakfast, I've always said." 

He handed a waffle over to her and she accepted it gently, bringing the yellow carbohydrate to her mouth. Owens smiled at her as she nibbled on it with rapturous delight until a voice from behind made both of them jump. 

"What are you doing?" 

Dr. Brenner, his back rigid, marched in with his hands tight at his sides. Owens jerked to his feet with the plate almost slipping out of his hands. He steadied himself and nervously watched as Brenner went to Eleven. His hand reached out and swiped the waffle straight from her mouth in mid-chew. Eleven whimpered and Owens appeared aghast at the action.

"It's just a waffle, Martin!" 

"She's not on solids yet." 

"I can't believe you." Owens turned away in disgust. 

"Just do your job and I'll do mine. Stop intervening on my subject." 

"Right. Like she's not anything else, is that right?" 

The two men stiffly faced each other and locked eyes. Brenner raised his eyebrows. 

"Do you dare challenge that?" 

Owens hesitated. He thought of what Will had said and felt repulsive with himself. He'd lose his job if he did challenge Martin and then Eleven would be really on her own. He owed it to her, to the Chief, and honestly more to himself to try to help, but he had to buckle on this one.

"Of course not... sir." He tacked on the last bit in sarcasm and left out the room as Eleven sniffled and rubbed her face. Brenner stared in silence down at her and reached a free hand down to cradle her cheek, but she whipped her head away in protest and he sighed, moving to pull up the bars. 

"Goodnight, Eleven. Tomorrow you can have your milk." 

She was sick of consuming only milk and mushy food. She wanted to make Papa happy, but he wasn't making her very happy. Often these days, she felt what was best described as dappled happiness that came and went with fleeting emotions she couldn't control. She missed when she felt... free and really happy, loved. Why had Papa taken her Eggo away? Mike would never do that to her... He had been the first person to give her Eggos and it was the best food she'd ever tasted. She thought she'd never taste one again. If only Mike was here... She had tried finding him a while ago, but couldn't stay in the void long enough to see him. She was usually too tired after hours of testing and a bottle of milk at bedtime didn't help her active mind. She couldn't give up on Mike, but it was getting harder to remember all of him; his face and every expression he made, even the sound of his voice. Had he given up on her? Eleven curled her body into a ball and buried her face into Mr. Teddy Bear. His scent, along with her flickering hope, had faded and she wished it hadn't. 

Chapter Text

September 2, 1984 5:00 PM

HAWKINS NATIONAL LABORATORY, HAWKINS INDIANA 

"Well, that's it for me today," Dr. Owens announced, shrugging off his coat and grabbing his keys from his pocket as he stood opposite Dr. Brenner in the hall.  

"Thanks for letting me take the night off for my wife and I's anniversary, Martin. Where does the time go? Can't believe it has been thirty years with Cathy and somehow we're still going strong. And, in fact, if I want to keep it that way with her, I'd better get going right now," Owens commented, checking his watch with a slightly stressed chuckle and he rushed to move around his colleague. Brenner remained impassive and just nodded a response as he stepped aside. Sam's absence tonight was actually going to work in his favor.

Brenner waited until he was out of sight before going to retrieve Eleven from her room, where she had just finished a spoon-fed dinner via a nurse, and he motioned to the floor for her to crawl after him to the testing room. He guided her into a chair to be fitted with a cap of electrodes onto her scalp and she sat patiently as he let in a couple men through the door with the experiment; a live squirrel one of the MP's had successfully trapped earlier at the edge of the woods. Eleven's eyes grew wide at the sight of it when the men set it down on the gray table in front of her. The animal skittered about back and forth in the metal cage, squeaking and chittering angrily, and Eleven's eyes widened further. The memory of the cat test came rushing back to her and she fearfully stabbed it back into the dark recesses of her mind. Brenner knelt down with his hands on his knees next to her and she turned her head to him.   

"Do you remember how you crushed the can? Can you do that again? Can you do that to this squirrel?" Papa asked in a whisper too close to her ear and Eleven felt a shiver run down to her ribs. Squirrel. So that's what this was. Not a cat. Not a mouse. Squirrel. She chewed the word and corresponding information over slowly, and felt herself squirm in her seat nervously. 

"Eleven? Can you do that? Crush?" Papa asked urgently, tensing his hands and then clapping them together with a loud slap, causing Eleven to flinch. She stared at the panicking animal as Papa stared into her and she felt as trapped as the squirrel. She'd killed before, of course, but this was much different. This animal wasn't hurting or threatening her and it didn't deserve to die, yet Papa seemed to think so. She hated to sacrifice her emotions, and an innocent animal's life, just for the sake of his affection and praise, but she knew the alternative was worse, at least for her. Maybe the animal was just really sick and she'd be putting it out of its misery. That's all it was. 

Eleven nodded, just barely, and Brenner stepped back and left the room to the viewing window with the other scientists. She focused on the body of the squirrel, trying not to think of it as a life form and only as an object to crush, just like Papa said. Her head quivered in effort and strain as she forced her power to manifest. The squirrel suddenly stopped moving and its eyes bulged as the biokinesis kicked in, constricting its body and squeezing its lungs. Eleven gasped at the visible torture she was mentally inflicting on the poor creature and she let go, her powers loosening the grip and the squirrel collapsed to the bottom of the cage, heaving and twitching. Tears sprang to her eyes and Eleven choked on a sob. Papa was staring a hole through the window at her, his eyes darkly clouded with disappointment and she dropped her head, her chin pointing down at her lap. She gazed hard on the white one-piece she was dressed in and slightly shuffled her soft feet under the table uneasily. For months now she had been comfortable with using her powers on inanimate objects and finding the nursery rhymes. Why was Papa doing this to her now, after all the ways he had been treating her differently since she'd been taken back? What had changed today? Maybe nothing had ever changed. He was still the same bad man who made her do bad things against her will, all under the guise of love. Love that came at a price. Why was she even still in this place with him? She craved his comforting, but hated his controlling and his unending tests. Why did he have to be a bad Papa? Where was Dr. Owens?  

She couldn't do this. No, not again would the past repeat itself. She couldn't afford the cost and that meant she didn't deserve the comfort.  

But maybe it was easier to just give up.

Perhaps Papa had given up, too. He was gone from the window and the door remained still and quiet behind her. Did that mean he wasn't going to punish her after all? That tiny thought boosted what was left of her hope for a few minutes... until the door sprang open and he came back in with a couple of guards right at his sides. Eleven recoiled in her chair as they came to her, expecting rough hands to grab at her body and pull her away to a dark room, but they didn't as she realized they were instead strapping her arms down to her sides.  

"I want you to sit here and think very hard about your decision, Eleven," Papa spoke tightly off to her right as he observed her helplessness at the guards fastening the straps and tying a longer one around her middle, binding her back to the chair. Her body felt crushed, too similar to the squirrel's proposed fate and Eleven made a noise in anger that turned to screams when all of them left the room and the door closed for the last time. She struggled until she was exhausted, unable to move from her position unassisted. She had a strong hunch that Papa wasn't ever going to come back until she completed what he had always wanted for her. She had no choice but to face the unavoidable reality that was beginning to dig into her; now she had absolutely no choice but to kill the animal right before her.

Crush.

Hurt.

Kill.

The squirrel was still alive in its containment, with one beady dark eye half closed staring at her as it laid on its side, tail flicking a bit, and its breath came in quiet rasps. It was too late to help the animal and Eleven knew what she must do. Before she could have time to dwell on regret, she flung her head to the side in one swift motion and the squirrel's neck snapped, its tiny bones breaking, and in one second it was dead. The room rang with chilling silence and Eleven stared at what she had just done, her stomach writhing with sickness. 

That was it. She'd done it, even without crushing. Yet it was still senseless killing and she felt disgust with herself, but more so with Papa. A vile liquid bubbled up within her and she gagged as it came up her throat, coughing and then she promptly threw up all over the table and the cage. The deluge of sobs came then, racking wet cries that she couldn't stop flowing from her eyes. Eleven hardly heard the door open behind her and gentle hands undoing the straps and then strong arms lifting her up from the chair and away from the murderous scene. The hallways blurred in her vision and she struggled to hold onto Papa's neck, fingers slipping from his skin and so she grasped the cotton of his shirt instead. He took her to a small room that she recognized as the bathroom she was taken to a couple times a week for baths and she was laid down on the cold floor next to the tub. She sat up, rocking a bit as she heard the water pour into the tub and Papa's shoes moving around her, grabbing a washcloth and soap. He pulled off her clothing and wet diaper, slipping her feet out of the booties, and removing her tracking ID bracelet before she felt herself being transferred into the warm water filled to the brim of the bathtub. Her muscles relaxed and all the anger, frustration, trauma, and heavy sadness melted right out her pores and absorbed into the water. Papa wiped under her nose and at her mouth and chin with a paper towel and then dumped a cup of water over her head, rinsing off all her guilt and shame. He lathered up shampoo into the short hairs on her scalp, running his fingers in and around her head and behind her ears. Water cascaded again down her head and face shortly after, mixing with the streams of sorrow. Eleven didn't know what were tears and what was water anymore. The liquid drained around her until it was pooled around her waist and Eleven felt Papa rubbing circles of soap into her back and tummy. He rinsed her body down without a word and she couldn't bear to look at him as he completed cleaning her. Papa was only being nice to her because she killed the squirrel; was that all he cared about?

The bathtub became bare of water once he finished and she was pulled out onto a towel flat on the flooring and he wrapped her up in a fluffy white towel, rubbing her back and head to dry her off. 

"That's a good girl, Eleven," Papa murmured as he stroked her head. She looked up at his scarred face with watery, red rimmed eyes and a minuscule noise came from the back of her mouth.

"Good?" Eleven whimpered and he nodded with a tap to the tip of her nose. 

"Yes, you are a good girl. Aren't you?"

Eleven averted her face from his one coated in pride and shook her head slowly at his question. 

"No."

The pride seeped away from him and coldness set in, she could feel it even while in a comforting towel. He stood to his feet and pulled open the door. Cool air wafted in and Eleven shivered on the floor. Brenner waved a hand out the door. 

"Follow Papa," he stated simply, already leaving and she hung back, unsure. She didn't have any clothes on, but she assumed her usual crawling position (she couldn't even remember the last time she had walked on two feet) and tried to figure out how to move with the towel wrapped around her. Eleven pushed herself forward and the towel draped over her back and hung off her shoulders as she slowly moved out into the hallway. Papa was already at the end of the hall and she felt annoyed. Why wouldn't he let just her walk, especially when she wasn't dressed? Halfway to her room, the towel slipped off her right shoulder and she careened sideways and felt the coolness hit her bare form. She looked ahead to Papa with a feeling of humiliation, although she didn't know what that really was, and he was still waiting several feet down by her open door. 

"Come, little one."

Eleven steadied herself and completed her crawl to her room. Brenner closed the door behind him and helped her to the changing cot. The towel came completely off and she instinctively curled up her body against the chill in the room as Papa took a diaper from the stack. He coaxed her into lying on her back and she reluctantly did so, turning her head away to the wall as he lifted up her hips to put her in the diaper, closing it up and securing the tabs around her waist. She wiggled, feeling the cushiony padding hugging her bottom and crotch, and sighed in relief. Today must almost be over and Papa would leave her. She'd feel lonely, but at least she would be away from his expectations and maybe she could forget about the act she had done. Papa fastened her into a new white rainbow patterned sleep suit and he patted her soft stomach before stepping back and cleaning his hands with a wipe. All this care and affection from Papa was dulling the pain and awfulness of earlier, but it wasn't completely dissolving her deep guilt. Maybe she was a monster. It was easy to think so when Mike wasn't there to tell her otherwise. 

Mike...

Eleven almost cried again. It hurt to think about him. She couldn't forget him, but she didn't want to spend the rest of her life here remembering her time with him when she had the sinking feeling she would never see him again. What if he never saw her again and what if he forgot about her? What if she forgot? What if Papa was the only one who remembered? A feeling swelled up in her throat and she whined. Brenner looked back at her with confusion and then he smiled. He leaned forward and cupped her chin in his hands. 

"Does someone need Papa?" he cooed softly. 

No, I want Mike, she wished she could say, but the words were lost to her and he didn't warrant an answer as he pulled her up to the edge of the cot. Brenner dragged a chair over and sat down, taking her into his lap. Eleven put her head on his shoulder and let herself go, the dam flooding open with her cries and he ran a hand up and down her back.

"Shh, shh, shh... Papa's here. Papa's got you," he soothingly spoke and she limply surrendered to his form of love. Her eyelids fluttered and the room went fuzzy with her head as he slightly rocked back and forth in the chair. She didn't remember exactly falling asleep, but the next conscious moment she knew was the white crib bars around her and the hush of her room. 

"Papa?" Eleven whispered to the darkness. Her head ached and she rubbed her sore eyes with her fists. A familiar itching around her wrist caught her attention and she realized Papa had put the bracelet back on. She poked at the tiny light on it and tried to yank it off, but it wouldn't budge. Feeling around for her teddy bear, she found it and cuddled it to her chest. She could feel Mr. Lion rubbing up against her legs and she mouthed on Mr. Teddy Bear's fuzzy ear. She wondered sleepily how long Papa had been gone. She hadn't wet her diaper yet, so it couldn't have been that long. Eleven let herself drift off in the dark and hoped tomorrow Papa wouldn't have her kill again. 

CASTLE BYERS, HAWKINS INDIANA

7:30 PM

Will shut off the radio that was playing that new hit love song by The Police (he honestly thought it was kind of creepy) and looked at Mike, who was seated across from him, reading the latest X-Men comic. 

"We better get home, it's almost eight." 

Mike nodded and stood up, grabbing his backpack. They'd spent the last couple hours here in his fort, with Mike finally speaking to him on normal, friendlier terms again and finally apologized for being distant and argumentative. He seemed somewhat happier than usual, but Will wasn't sure why. Summer vacation was just about over and school was going to start soon. The two boys lifted the sheet over the entrance to exit and grabbed their bikes resting outside. Will switched on his headlight that Jonathan had helped him with putting in a new bulb after the other had burnt out and then Mom had lectured him about putting it on even at the hint of dusk. He hopped on his bike and followed slowly after Mike, crunching over dry underbrush, twigs, and a few fallen leaves. A cool breeze shimmied through the trees and Will felt a shiver. The nights were already getting cooler and fall wasn't far away. A sudden swooping sound overhead caused him to startle and he slammed the front of his tire into the back of Mike's bike. Mike gasped and pitched forward onto the handlebars. 

"Will?! What is it?" 

"Sorry, I think it was just an owl," Will breathed, his heart racing. The woods were spooky at night and nothing like in the day. Shadows flitted around him from his peripheral vision and he couldn't tell if they were real or imagined. 

"C'mon," Mike said impatiently, pushing down on his pedals and Will followed not so closely this time behind him. They kept moving deeper into the woods and even in the darkness, Will could tell they were going the wrong way. 

"Wait! The road's back that way!" Will called out, stopping his bike and his eyes scanned through the gloom with only a stream of light from his headlight illuminating a thin line through the trees and on the dusty brown earth floor. Mike didn't stop his bike and kept pedaling forward with a flashlight, quickly disappearing between the solid dark tree trunks. 

"Mike!? Did you hear me? The road is this way!" Will loudly spoke again, pointing the opposite direction of where his best friend was heading. The sound of tires gradually faded into the forest. Will's heart sped up again and he pushed off into the dark towards wherever Mike was.

"Mike, wait! Where are you going?!" Will yelled and found himself propelling over the hard ground further into the woods. He had the unpleasant flashback of being chased by the Demogorgon and he tried to keep his thoughts on finding Mike. After a of couple minutes, he saw a faint light and finally caught up with Mike at the edge of the woods. His heart dropped out from his rib cage and thudded into his stomach as he realized the looming building before them. Hawkins Lab, unnaturally planted in the large cleared area outside the woods, was lit up by lights and barbed wire. Mike was resting on the seat of his bike, staring ahead with his walkie talkie in his hands. Will pulled his bike up next to him with a huff.

"Mike! What the hell are we doing here?"

He turned to Will with a glint in his eyes and swung a leg off his bike, letting it fall down to the ground. He slid off his backpack, setting it down, and started towards the campus. 

"You can't be serious!"

Will let his own bike clatter to the ground and hurried ahead, grabbing Mike by his arm.

"Will, c'mon! Don't you want to come?" Mike yanked his arm back and Will stood back, agape. This wasn't the plan at all. Hell, it wasn't even a plan Will was aware of.  

"What are you doing? I thought we were going home, not here! Why did you come here?" Will questioned, trying to keep his cool as Mike stepped closer and pulled out the antenna of his walkie-talkie. 

"I'm tired of not doing anything. Of waiting for Hopper to help her or for you to finally tell me the truth. So I'm just going find out for myself," Mike answered in a rational tone. 

"Are you crazy?! You can't just go in there!" 

"Stop always trying to tell me to stop trying, Will." 

"I'm trying to look out for you!" Will bit back the words as bitterness hit. He sounded like Hopper, like Dr. Owens, just like an... adult. Mike turned around and his face was aggravated. 

"That's great, thanks! But is it getting us anywhere? I've got to do something, to just see if there's one sign she's alive in there."

"You don't know for sure."

"That's why I'm here. To finally find out." Mike spat out the obvious and Will frowned. 

"So what? You wanted to do this all along, right? You were just waiting for the right moment to drag me out here in the dark just so we can risk our lives and cause my mom a fit when she finds out?"

"Don't be such a baby, Will!" 

Will, aghast at the term, took a step back. 

"What did you just call me?"

"I said you're acting like a BABY. B.A.B.Y. I know this place scares you, but it's not going away and El's not being helped."

"She's not in there, Mike!"

"Oh yeah? Then how come you and Hopper are acting so secretive all the time? I think your mom knows something's up too, you know."

"I'm not supposed to say anything; I can't just tell the whole town about my appointments. I was threatened! You just don't know what it's like!"

"No, Will, YOU don't know what it's like. You don't know what it's like to lose the one girl from your entire life who didn't look at you like you were a freak, and who really, truly liked you, and who wasn't just any girl, and then she's taken from you by a stupid monster and then by bad people who lock her up. Do you know how I even feel? I don't think you do. You don't even know anything about girls. You don't know shit." 

"It's ALWAYS ABOUT YOU, ISN'T IT?" Will yelled, not really caring about what he was saying anymore, just trying to combat the verbal wounds Mike was inflicting. 

"I don't care what you think. I'm going," Mike started off and Will grabbed him from behind.

"GET OFF ME!" 

The boys wrestled and scuffled to the ground. Will was privately surprised at himself, he'd never been in much of a physical fight with Mike before or any boy for that matter, but his rage had got the best of him. 

Over their carrying yells, the two boys didn't notice a mumble of male voices coming closer until the bright light of flashlight beams danced on the ground around them and jittered across the trees. Mike and Will flung themselves off each other and flattened to the dirt besides their bikes. Mike snatched his walkie-talkie from a few feet away and clutched it. A man's voice shouted and clomping footsteps thudded towards them. Will glanced at Mike with huge, frightened eyes. 

"RUN!" Will whispered-shouted and they both jumped up at once and sped off into the woods, abandoning their bikes and Mike's backpack, and more shouts sounded in the darkness. Will raced around a knotty tree and Mike followed close beside him, their elbows bumping each other. Suddenly, Mike was gone and Will froze in his tracks, his feet skidding and kicking up dirt, and he looked wildly around in the night. 

"Mike!?" 

"Over here!" 

For a moment, he briefly considered not going back, knowing it jeopardize their escape time. But this was Mike and even though they had just had the fight of their lives, he could never leave his friend. A Party always stuck together, no matter what, even if one (or both of them) were being a douchebag. So Will followed his friend's voice and felt around in dark for his body. He heard a shuffling below him and jumped back as a hand grabbed his foot. 

"What happened?!" Will gasped and Mike groaned, using Will's legs for support as pulled himself up off the ground.

"I tripped over a stupid tree root," he explained angrily and a bright light bounced off a close tree next to them. 

"HEY! Stop right there!" 

Will and Mike turned to each other in horror and Mike let loose a string of curse words that would have made Dustin proud. The two boys were blinded by flashlights and fright as a tall guardsman found them. Another man called from twenty feet back:

"You got something?" 

The guard's lip curled and he kept the light straight on their faces, like deer caught in headlights. 

"Oh yeah. I got somethin' all right." 

They were then swarmed by guards and Mike kicked out, yelling, but they were no match. One of the men, the biggest and burliest one of the lot, dangled Mike upside down by his ankles.

"LET ME GO, YOU BASTARD!" Mike screamed, thrashing about as candy wrappers and spare coins dropped out of his pockets with the walkie talkie. Will was accosted as well and his arms were twisted back as a light was shone unrelentingly into his eyes. He blinked and squinted at a man with a five o'clock shadow leaned down to look at him. Recognition sparked and he straightened up to address his fellow men.

"I recognize this one. He's Doc Owens' patient."

"Let's bring 'em in," another man spoke and Will found himself thrust forward along with Mike. The guards dragged them back towards the forest edge, across the parking lot, and to Hawkins Lab and Will could feel himself sweating. Mike was still swearing and fighting fruitlessly. 

Maybe Dr. Owens would help them or at least lessen the blow. He'd just have to explain what happened and hopefully Mike would do his part as well. They could get out of this without being hurt or killed. 

The guards brought them into the building and there was a small commotion as Mike was able to kick one of the men in the shin and almost wiggled away before he was restrained by two others. 

"What's going on?" A voice barked out and a man, who appeared to be the head of security, approached them with a scowl. 

"Found these two trespassers on the property. This one's a patient of Dr. Owens," the man holding Will explained and his superior narrowed his eyes.  

"Get Dr. Brenner," the man ordered to the nearest guard and they were left to wait. Will dared a look at Mike and to his surprise, he winked. He didn't have much time to react appropriately to this, as then the hauntingly tall, lanky white haired scarred man walked quickly into the lobby with a frown. 

He looked over the two boys with their scruffy hair (Mike's in particular was littered with a couple leaves and twigs) and their jostled clothes.

"Why does this not surprise me?" Brenner muttered, putting a hand to his forehead. He looked back up and stared at Will, then at Mike, who stared hard right back. There was no denying the fact that he knew now Brenner hadn't died in the attack at Hawkins Middle School and this evidence only hardened his resolve that Eleven was confined again here. 

"Know who I am, asshole?" Mike shouted out and Will shook his head frantically. 

"Mike...!" he hissed, but his friend ignored him. 

"I know you do not belong here, young man," Brenner calmly replied, stepping closer. 

"You know who else doesn't belong in your prison either?" Mike asked boldly.

Brenner kept his face smooth and almost appeared amused. 

"And who would that be?"

"Oh.... I was thinking a girl. You might know her," Mike spat out sarcastically and a guard moved towards him, raising a club up above Mike's head. 

"Wait," Brenner gestured to the man and he backed off, but kept his arm up at the ready. 

"I'm afraid you are in the wrong place to meet girls, son. There are no girls in this facility," Brenner told Mike.

"Really? It's too bad I don't remember her name. But I know her age. She's only ELEVEN." 

The room was still as the dead of night and Will side-eyed Mike with a swallow. Now he'd done it. They were done for. Hopefully Dr. Owens would show them mercy? Where the heck was he, anyway?

Brenner's gaze solidified and he beckoned a guard to him. The man stepped stiffly forward and Brenner leaned over to whisper directions. 

"Take that boy and leave Byers with me." 

The guard nodded and Mike was hauled towards the hallway out of the lobby. 

"No!" Will shouted before he could stop himself. Brenner turned curiously to him and the guards paused. Mike seemed surprised and kept his eyes on Will.

"Don't hurt him. Please," Will begged and Brenner's face became dangerous. 

"Would you like to share in his punishment?" 

"Will, no! I'll take whatever they do to me! It's my fault I let this happen!" Mike called out to him with a stricken face. Brenner ignored him and asked again in a low voice only for Will.

"Would you like some electroshock?" 

Will gulped. No, he really didn't, but the slightest of nods had him whisked away. He screamed and Mike's yells echoed back to him as both boys were dragged away to separate rooms. Brenner followed behind Will and watched the guards throw him to the floor, landing painfully on his hands and knees. He felt a hand on his back and he twisted his head to find Brenner's face next to his. 

"A boy like you should deserve a good spanking, but I have something more appropriate instead," Brenner told him, getting to his feet. 

"Low voltage," he advised in what he thought was considerate and Will's eyes went huge. He gasped and let out a shout at what felt like the worst electric shock he'd ever felt hit his nerves. It struck again like a bolt of lightning and continued in a stop-go-stop-go pattern for a few minutes. Finally it ceased and he started crying and curled into a fetal position on the hard floor while Brenner nodded in satisfaction. He signaled to the guards to move and pull him up, hauling him out back to the lobby. Mike was already there and his face was stuck in shock and his knees were trembling uncontrollably. 

"No talk about this to anyone or there will be no tomorrow for you two," the head of security man threatened and a guard raised a gun, briefly pointing to Mike and Will's heads. Quite abruptly, they were then thrown out the doors and Mike's chin crashed into the concrete. They struggled to their feet and as soon as they could get their bearings, the two boys fled for their lives across the parking lot and flung themselves into the forest. The abandoned bikes were still there (along with Mike's backpack, which he grabbed up) and they hitched them up, walking quickly along beside them through the woods. Will didn't say anything and Mike didn't either until they came to Mirkwood. Mike spoke first, his voice shaky and quiet.

"I'm sorry, Will. I'm sorry for fighting. It was stupid and you were right. They hurt us."

"This is the worst night of my life," Will muttered and kept his head down. Mike stopped on the road.

"Hey."

Will glanced up and saw Mike's serious face with his chin bleeding in the dim moonlight. 

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For trying to save my ass. For saying you'd take my punishment. That took guts." 

"You're the one with the guts, Mike. Besides, it didn't work anyway. They hurt you too."

"You still said it. You spoke up. That means a lot to me. You know, they won't get away with this; we have to tell Hopper." 

"I don't know." 

"I got your back, Will. I got you." Mike reached over and patted Will on the back and Will smiled. His body still felt tingly and sore, and he was pretty sure he'd peed his pants just a bit. The boys continued walking down the road to Will's house and Mike glanced at his watch. 

"My mom's gonna be pissed. Let's see how yours is."

They trekked up to the Byers house and Joyce flung open the door as soon as she heard the crunch of gravel and the steady tick-a-tick-a-tick of the bike wheels.

"Oh my God, what happened?! Will, you were supposed to be home an hour ago!" Joyce gasped, alarmed as she looked from her disheveled son to Mike and his bloody chin.  

"Sorry. Um, we lost track of the time and then it got dark and we kinda got lost in the woods. Will fell off his bike and I tripped over a big tree root," Mike explained halfheartedly and Joyce looked confused and borderline outraged. 

"Hey, what's all fuss about? Did the pizza guy come with the wrong order?" Bob Newby came up from behind Joyce in the hall and immediate concern crossed his facial features.  

"Mom?" Will questioned, eyeing Bob. He didn't know he was staying over and Joyce blushed.

"I should've told you, but I thought you'd be back earlier. We were just talking and about to have a little dinner. We ordered pizza," she admitted as Bob rubbed her shoulders. 

Mike and Will glanced at each other. 

"Well, I gotta go. Mom's gonna be super worried and I need to calm her down. I'll see you tomorrow Will and we can look for my walkie-talkie I dropped," Mike hurriedly spoke, turning to leave. 

"Wait, don't you want a bandage or...?" Joyce asked with a frown, but Mike quickly waved her off and went down the driveway. Joyce bit her lip, worried, as she pulled Will inside. 

"Let's get you cleaned up at least; you look terrible," Joyce told Will, steering him to the bathroom. Bob hovered behind and asked if he could help.

"No, it's fine. I'll just fill up a bath for him and be out in a few minutes."

"You sure?" 

"Yeah, it's alright. Thanks, Bob."

Joyce closed the bathroom door and Will waited while she turned on the faucet, splashing water into the bathtub.

"This'll be a nice hot bath, okay?" 

"Okay," Will nodded, but didn't move. A lump grew bigger and bigger in his throat and tears threatened to break out. Joyce glanced at him as the tub filled up and more concern came over her.

"Will, what's wrong? Does something hurt?" 

"Mom. He got me," Will choked out and he couldn't contain his tears.

"Wh-what? Who? I-I don't understand, sweetie." 

"The bad man. He got me." Will's face twisted with tears and his body shook with realization. Joyce stared at her son and then she started to comprehend, mentally putting the pieces of the last several months together, and both of them barely noticed the water overflowing behind her, spilling out onto the rug, just as much as Will's tears and soon to be his secrets. There was no more use in hiding. 

Joyce stood up and came over to him, grabbing him by the shoulders, and a fire lit in her eyes, with such heat that he'd never seen before, and she looked him squarely in the face. 

"You didn't get lost in the woods and fall off your bike, did you?"

"No," Will quietly confessed.

"You are going to tell me everything that really happened tonight and every other time, okay?" 

Will hesitated and then ate his doubts; he had a gut after all and it was hungry. If no one was going to stand up to Dr. Brenner and the government, then he had to. For Mom, for Mike, for Hopper. For her. 

"Okay."

Even if it could be his last chance.

Chapter Text

September 3, 1984 9:00 AM

BYERS HOUSE, HAWKINS INDIANA

Joyce slammed the phone back to the receiver with a loud groan of frustration and ran a shaky hand through her messy brown hair. She crumpled up the yellow sticky note with the supposed phone number of Dr. Sam Owens that she was given from Will's clinical paperwork from Hawkins National Laboratory and threw it to the floor. Bob Newby came up behind her with a troubled expression and sympathetically put a hand on her shoulder. He had insisted on spending the night over after she had come out of the bathroom last night in a state of shock and then upset over all the information Will had confessed to her. Of course, Bob couldn't know the whole story and she was terrified to involve another person into this situation and their already abnormal family, so she made up a half-assed excuse that Will was actually very sick and urgently needed an appointment with his specialist physician. Thank God that Bob was one of those rare people who was accepting and understanding against all the odds and wouldn't ask a lot of questions to pry every answer out. 

"Still can't get through to the hospital?" Bob put it mildly and Joyce huffed.  

"No, that secretary is a black hole!" Joyce exclaimed, bending over to pick the note back up and Bob watched her, avoiding judgments, but still rather confused.   

"I'm still trying to understand something here though, Joyce. Do you think Will is sick enough to go to the emergency room at Hawkins Memorial Hospital instead? Do you want me to drive him there now or to another hospital outside of town? I'm sure there's someone else who can see him," Bob asked with a frown and Joyce frantically shook her head back and forth.

"No, no, you can't. I mean, it's just not a good idea. He has to see this doctor at the Lab; they will know what to do there. You know, this is something I just... I just need to figure out alone. I'm sorry, Bob. Look, I'll contact you later. Don't you need to go open RadioShack this morning anyway?"

"Of course, but that can wait if this is really an emergency. I want to help, Joyce." 

"I appreciate it, but this is kind of a... private problem. Please, Bob. Let me work this out. I'll call you as soon as I can," Joyce pleaded and Bob had a large enough heart to agree with her.  

"Alright. I get it." He went to grab his coat and leave as Joyce watched him forlornly. He was always so sweet and he didn't deserve her complicated family. It made her extremely angry with the government for putting her and her son in this predicament. She heard the front door close shortly and Joyce went to the bathroom, where she had kept Will stationed since last night to make Bob think there was really something wrong with him, and knocked on the bathroom door, calling out: 

"Will, honey, come on out and get dressed! We're just going to head over there."

He opened the door, dressed in sweatpants and worry.  

"Do I have to see the doctor?" he asked in a small, timid voice and Joyce sighed. Why couldn't have Dr. Brenner gone to hell when I told him to? 

"No, but you're going to have to come with me and if we are able to see Dr. Owens, you're going to to have to talk to him and tell him what happened. I don't think he will entirely listen to me and he needs to hear it from you. Okay? Can you do that, sweetie? Please?" 

Will nodded in agreement and moved past her to change into clean clothes in his bedroom.

"Will, do you still have those drawings? The ones you did of your doctors?" Joyce asked suddenly and Will turned around.

"Yeah, why?"

"Bring them."

Joyce walked back to the phone; she had one more call to make. It took a few rings, but Hopper finally picked with a grunt. She didn't give him the courtesy of a greeting. 

"Hopper, I'm going over to Hawkins Lab in a minute and I think you should come. Will came and told me last night what they've been doing to him and Mike and you, and about Dr. Brenner. I'm gonna give them hell over there, but you should be there to back me up... Hop?"

He slurred an incomprehensible reply on the other end and Joyce made a face at the phone. 

"Hop? Are you drunk?"

"Nah, I, I'm... just great... Ya know, Joyce, I was thinkin' - "

"HOPPER! Get your ASS together and get over to Hawkins Lab NOW!" Joyce yelled and hung up with force before running to grab her purse. 

"WILL! Let's go!" she shouted and whirled around to see Will startle right behind her. 

"I'm right here, Mom."

"Oh, sorry, sweetie. You have your drawings? Okay, c'mon."  

He followed her out of the house to the car and wondered where Jonathan was. He never came home last night, but Will had a strong suspicion he might be with Nancy Wheeler. They sure were spending more and more time together since the summer. Jonathan was kind of lucky though; he knew he was a freak and wore it on his sleeve, but at least he wasn't the brand of freak that doctors experimented on. Will then thought of Mike and how he was holding up and wished he could talk to him. He would understand more about all of this than anyone else. Mom was trying to help, she was only going by Will's word and he was scared of the consequences when she came bursting through the doors of Hawkins Lab, with all proverbial guns blazing, and what would happen to them. As the HNL signs along the chain-link fence blurred by, Will wished he were anywhere but here.  

9:30 AM

HNL

Dr. Brenner strode through the halls with Eleven following after his legs as usual. Today was sure to be a productive day. They were running out of time to keep ahead and the slow schedule of the past year hadn't helped, but he didn't regret the regression process at all. It had proved to be psychologically groundbreaking, successful, and most important being that Eleven was hardly going anywhere by herself anytime soon. Now he had to mold her further into being a weapon again. If the squirrel test was any indicator, she would be ready if pushed hard enough. 

A solider came unexpectedly down the hall right up to him with a grave face and signaled to Brenner to come with him.

"What is it?" Brenner asked rigidly, stopping abruptly in the middle of the hallway and Eleven bumped right into the back of his legs. She sat back and looked up at the MP with trepidation, but he was ignoring her. 

"Sir, you have a uncooperative visitor at the entrance lobby." 

"Show me." Brenner started off right behind the man, but then froze and turned around to address his subject. 

"Eleven, keep up."

She crawled after him, struggling with aching knees. They went down to the end of the hall and turned a corner before Papa stopped in front of a door. He didn't bother knocking and pushed it open to reveal the office of Dr. Owens, who sat scrutinizing through paperwork at his desk. He glanced up with surprise as Brenner ushered a perplexed Eleven into the room.

"Keep an eye on her for a minute, Sam. Eleven, stay here with Dr. Owens. Papa will be right back," Brenner instructed and pointed a finger down at her before disappearing from the doorway and walking away quickly after the MP. 

"I'm not here to babysit, Martin!" Owens called out loudly from his desk, but his colleague was already gone. Owens looked over at Eleven and her bewildered expression as she sat in her one-piece on the floor of his office and sighed. 

"I guess it's just me and you, kiddo."

She crawled over to his desk and poked her head underneath the wood. A wastebasket overflowing with discarded papers and a few stray candy wrappers caught her eye and she batted at it with a hand. Owens moved it aside with his foot and leaned over to see her. 

"No, I don't think you wanna play with that. How about your blocks and toys? I guess I better go get some from your room if you're gonna be here a while," Owens said, standing up from his chair. He paused as Eleven crawled out from under his desk and back to the middle of the room. He stepped over to her with a look of pity.

"You must be awfully tired of crawling around all the time, huh, kiddo? You know what? Let's get you on your feet. Come on, up you go," Owens decided and extended his arms out to let Eleven take his hands and pull her up to a standing position. He let go and she wobbled, her legs trembling from disuse. Taking a step forward, her knees buckled and she stumbled, but Owens caught and steadied her. 

"Okay, take it easy. One step at a time," he told her gently, guiding her. Eleven put one foot in front of the other and then again and it felt so strange to use her legs this way, but also so relieving. A flicker of her old freedom came flashing into her existence and Eleven almost smiled. 

"There ya go. That's good. See, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Owens praised as she spun around on the soles of her feet, eyes wide, taking in the surroundings from this taller angle. Eleven walked to his desk and he watched her curiously as she moved towards it, carefully maneuvering around the chair. She stopped and stared at a framed picture propped up on top and she leaned closer to touch the cool, clear glass. Trapped behind it were three smiling people, one of whom she recognized as a younger Dr. Owens close with a woman and the two of them were holding a chubby young boy with dark curly hair that was clearly a copy of his father's. She placed a finger gingerly on the woman's face and whispered softly:

"Pretty."

"I think so, too," Owens commented with a chuckle as he came to stand beside her. 

"That's my wife and our son, Peter," he identified, pointing at the picture and glancing at her, trying to gauge her reaction. Eleven's eyes saddened with a shadow of some emotion... was it longing? He opened his mouth to speak to her, but his office door suddenly burst open and Dr. Brenner stood with such a face of unpleasantness that would give even the famed fictional Ebenezer Scrooge a run for his money. 

"We have a situation," he reported curtly and Owens moved to the door with alertness. 

"An emergency?" 

"You could say that."

Owens threw up his hands.

"Now you tell me!" 

Leaving the door open without a backward glance, he rushed off after Brenner, who was already several feet ahead. The two men hurried to the lobby entrance, where it was clear there was a disturbance. Brenner came to a halt and Owens ducked around him before he paused also as the high pitched shrieks of Ms. Byers came to their ears. 

"LET GO OF ME! GET YOUR DAMN HANDS OFF OF ME!" 

"Ma'am, ma'am, you need to calm down," a guard's voice clearly ordered and a jumble of other men's voices surrounded his. 

"Don't you DARE patronize me! I want to speak to Dr. Sam Owens! I am not leaving until I see his ass out here!" 

Brenner gave his colleague a prompting look and he gritted his teeth. 

"What have you done this time, Martin?!" Owens snapped at him and then gathered himself before entering the space. Brenner hung back with a few MPs behind him, listening to the scene play out. 

"Stand down," Owens ordered, but the soldiers stayed in position, roughly restraining the woman as she writhed against their hold.

"That's enough, goddammit!" Owens spoke sharply at the men and they complied, letting go of Joyce and she gasped in relief. Will stood anxiously off a few feet to the side with a mixture of emotions pantomiming across his face; impressed, stressed, and scared. 

"Ms. Byers? Will? What's the meaning of this impromptu visit?" Owens asked, attempting to keep his tone somewhat calm and friendly. Joyce took a breath, seething, before turning to shouting. 

"You promised me that Will would be in good hands. That he would be taken care of professionally and that you people were the only ones who would understand the hell we've been through. What I want to know is how you can stand there and tell me to trust you when your men, and another doctor who I thought was gone, hurt my son - a child - by giving him EFFING ELECTROSHOCK JUST LAST NIGHT! You can't hide this - this BULLSHIT from me anymore! Will told me all about it!"

Owens cleared his throat.

"I'm not sure exactly what you're talking about. I mean, really, electroshock? We don't subject children to that under any setting. Unless you have evidence to the contrary, I'm at a loss here."   

"Show him, Will." Joyce jerked her head at her son and Will stepped forward, holding out his creased drawings with trembling fingers. Owens took them and stared at his and his colleague's colored sketched selves for a minute.

"Pretty good likeness, I'd say!" he exclaimed, waving the drawing of himself about with exaggerated humor that hardly fit the situation and Joyce's eyes narrowed. Owens backpedaled in the jovial tone and tried to be nonchalant.

"I don't think this hardly says anything concerning, Ms. Byers. He's rather artistic and I'm flattered he decided to draw me."

"No, no, look at the other one with the lightning bolts. Will told me that's Dr. Brenner and that the bolts represent the electricity he uses to torture people, including my own son, his best friend Mike, and the Chief of Police!" 

Owens blanched slightly, but passed it off. 

"Well, uh, I would speculate that your son - and you would know this better than anyone - has a highly overactive imagination. In fact, what's that game he's always playing?"

"Dungeons and Dragons," Will responded quietly and Owens gladly turned to him.

"Yes! And you roleplay the part of a... is it a knight? Sir Will, right?"

"I'm a wizard. Will the Wise."

"Ah, okay. That's even better, although I would say Sir William suits you too. So you see, Ms. Byers, your son fantasizes about being a character, which is someone he is not in reality, and playing in a game comprising of make believe situations."

Joyce looked purely flabbergasted.

"So you think he's making this all up?! That my boy would make up scenarios about being tortured by a man named Dr. Brenner?! Tell me what game or TV show or book he's from!"

"It's common for children to incorporate fantasy into everyday situations or to exaggerate events, sometimes for attention, I'm afraid. Although, in Will's case, I know he is obviously anxious about his appointments, so he creates and envisions an evil doctor who does bad things and then I assume he defeats him in his imagination to end the game. It's just a coping mechanism for his real life anxiety," Owens explained and Joyce bit her lip.

"I would say the anxiety is very hereditary." The soft voice of Dr. Brenner and the dull clop of his shoes entered the room as he stepped out from the shadows.

"YOU!" Joyce screamed and Brenner didn't move any closer. She pointed an accusatory finger at Owens and then to him. 

"You've been working with him all along, haven't you?! You sick, rotten, evil bastard. GO TO HELL, both of you!"

"I understand you're upset, Ms. Byers. I'm sorry it had to come to this. I never intended any harm to your son," Brenner placidly spoke as if there was nothing alarming about her claims and the casual lack of emotion had Will feeling frozen. Why would it be better if he too was shouting and angry? At least that would make him seem more human.

"I know who you are. I saw what you did to that Ives woman; you fried her brain with your drugs, your electroshock, all that shit. Then you kidnapped her baby and tortured her too, all using government funded resources. She's still here, isn't she? The girl you call a number instead of a name. I won't let you do the same to me or my son. You - and everyone who works for you - DISGUST ME!" Joyce spat out and it took all of Brenner's emotional control to keep a flat face. 

"You are gravely mistaken. Those are unproven conspiracies against me that you know nothing about."  

"You know, it's one thing to do these atrocities and have the balls to admit it, it's another to lie right to my face and STILL DENY IT! You men are the worst assholes I've ever met and I should know; I was married to one for years," Joyce scoffed. Guilt seeped into Owens and it started to show up in his face, but Brenner remained as stiff and as cold as a marble column. Owens took a step closer with visible pleading and Joyce inched back, reaching for Will. 

"I hate to do this. I really do. Look, I'm not asking you to like me, to like my colleague, or anyone who works for us. I'm not even asking for your trust anymore. All I want from you as a parent - and Will of course, as my patient - is just an ounce of understanding and cooperation. I will do everything in my power to make this whole process as painless as possible. I can't guarantee it will be pain free, but I will try to lessen the blow. And I promise Dr. Brenner will not be seeing your son again." Owens tried to sincerely convince, but Joyce wouldn't be fed more falsities. 

"No. We are NEVER coming back here, no matter what. I'm going to take Will somewhere else and I'm not asking for your permission."

"And where exactly do you intend to take him? We're the source of everything; we have the equipment, the expertise, and the experience needed. No other hospital or physician will know what to do with Will," Owens persuaded and Brenner appeared smug before adding:

"Your own unfortunate instinctual motherly stubbornness is the only problem here, I assure you." 

Joyce's face twisted as that last straw pierced her and she rushed forward before anyone had time to react. In one glorious moment, she reached up and slapped Dr. Martin Brenner hard straight across his cheek. Owens turned away wordlessly and suppressed a smile as Brenner flinched and his eyes widened in surprise. Guards surrounded the mother and she yelled and flung against them, struggling and flailing. Brenner touched his scarred face briefly and Owens started yelling at the men while Will discreetly wandered away off to the side away from the scuffle and felt drawn down the yawning opening hallway by some invisible pull. Amazingly, neither doctors nor guards noticed immediately as they were too preoccupied with his mom. He hadn't planned for a distraction to happen, but he'd played enough of D&D to know when you had an opportunity to outsmart your enemies, you had to seize it. The only issue was Will wasn't sure what exactly he was going to do with these unsupervised minutes, so he let intuition lead him. The hall was empty until he gasped upon turning a corner to come face to face with a girl. It was her. Eleven. She stared at him with shocked eyes and he mirrored her face.

"What are you wearing?" he asked, looking her up and down. She just shrugged and pulled at the white bodysuit and looked down at her booties. 

"Did he do something to you?" Will whispered and Eleven blankly gazed at him. 

"The bad man. Dr. Brenner?" 

"Papa?" Eleven asked innocently.

"Yeah. Is that what you call him?"

"Papa," she repeated and Will shook his head. 

"I don't know what he's done to you, but he's hurt me and he's after my mom. We gotta get out of here, but I don't know how to help you," Will explained shortly and the girl frowned.  

"Hurt?"

"Yes, last night and right now he's got my mom!"

"PAPA!" Eleven screamed out suddenly, bolting around Will.

"Wait, no!" Will gasped, grabbing for her as Eleven took off down the hallway in an awkward half run. She didn't get very far from entering the lobby when her bracelet lit up red and corresponding alarms blared suddenly from the walls. She held up her arm and stared at the flashing bracelet. She looked back to Will with fear and he wanted to tell her to run, but before he could even form the word, men thundered into the hall and it was a blur of uniforms and hairy arms. 

At the entrance, the alarms rang shrilly and Joyce quit struggling to glance around the large room as the lights strobed. 

"Where's Will?" 

Owens scowled and turned to Brenner, but he was already off with the guards flocking into the adjacent hallway. Will stood helpless in the hall as Eleven was whisked away and she opened her mouth to scream, but a piece of plastic and rubber that looked to be a large pacifier was shoved into her open mouth by Brenner. Within a second, she was out of sight and Will was dragged back into the lobby. Joyce let out a primal cry of rage and lunged at the guards, who let him go the moment her hands touched them. Will flew into her body and she tightly embraced him for a second before grabbing his hand and racing to the exit as fast as she could. Owens swore loudly as mother and son fled out the doors, but he made no attempt to have his men run after her. What if that had been his own wife and son instead? Martin may not draw lines, but Owens swore to himself that he would. Enough damage had already been done and only the debris was left behind in the form of shattered trust all over the floor of HNL.     

Meanwhile, Eleven was brought to her nursery room where the guards threw her inside and left her to Brenner. His anger was controlled and deliberate as he grabbed her, popping open the snaps on her legless bodysuit and pulled it up, exposing her diaper which he tore off and then wrestled her onto his lap when he sat down on a chair next to the changing cot. Eleven kicked wildly as he held her down over his knees and wasted no time in getting to punishing her. 

Slap. 

His large hand hit her bare bottom with enough force to knock the breath out of her. She froze in fear as he struck her bottom again and then again. Papa had personally never physically hurt her like this, ever. It was a shock to her system and she couldn't even produce tears for a minute as he continued spanking her until her butt was glaring red. 

"Papa, no!" she cried against his palm giving the pain, but he wouldn't stop. Finally, after several hard smacks, he let go, dropping her to the floor on her knees and she rolled, curling into a ball... then finally the tears came uncontrolled and unabashedly. She vaguely heard Papa's voice above her telling her she was a "very bad girl" before the sound of the door slamming shut was the last of him. Eleven cradled her own head and wept until the tears dried up and left her. The stinging pain, however, overstayed its welcome for too long of a time. 

Just outside the walls of HNL, Will stood away in the parking lot as Joyce berated Hopper, who had finally shown up - too late to make a difference. 

"What's WRONG with you?! I had to face those assholes ALONE! I CAN'T believe you, Hop!"

He was muttering a string of unheard apologies, rubbing his forehead, and swayed back and forth slightly, holding himself up against his truck, clearly still intoxicated. How he managed to drive over without running off the road and plowing into a tree was a mystery to Will. As he watched his mom starting to go hoarse from all the yelling, a weird prickling sensation tingled around his scalp and the hairs on his neck collectively rose up in unison to greet fear. A solid thudding of his heart came running, pounding, and crossing the finishing line up in his throat as he swiveled around on his feet to look back at Hawkins Lab. His heart nearly stopped upon seeing it. There was an overarching shadow over the already dark building; a black shrouding smoky spidery shaped cloud holding over the top of the roof. The surrounding landscape was desolate and devoid as red lightening flashed and crackled. Will felt shivers and was paralyzed, unable to do anything but stop and stare wide eyed.

"Will!" Mom's jarring voice called from the car and he whipped around to see her waiting as the Upside Down vanished as quickly as it had come. Hopper was having trouble getting back into his truck and neither of them seemed aware of the shadow apparition that was just above Hawkins Lab. Will ran to his mom's green Pinto and once he was safely inside, he peeked out the window to check if it was really gone. Small relief drenched his nerves, but nothing permanently soothing as inevitable dread dredged up within him. It wasn't over. The Upside Down (as he had suspected the November night he had come home from the normal hospital) was still with him (and with everyone, really) and now this was something different, worse. It paled in comparison to a Demogorgon. No... this felt darker, evil. And that was the worst part. 

The worst was yet to come. 

Back in the lobby from Eleven's room, Brenner smoothly adjusted his tie and composed himself as Owens bustled up to him, frustrated and ticked off. 

"I'm gone for one night - one night - and already you managed to screw things up! As much as I dislike it, Eleven is yours, but we agreed from the beginning you're not to mess with MY patient. Now all you've done is leave me with a frightened, angry, and distrustful mother who won't cooperate in taking her son back. What if she goes to the press? Do you want this to get out and have all our work here shut down? Did you even read the latest intelligence report from this morning? The Soviets are not stopping their research, nor is this parallel dimension, or whatever the hell it is, going away! It's growing downstairs, no matter how much we've been trying to contain it. God forbid any of that gets out! We can't risk Hawkins any more than you already have. I know you think it's a small, meaningless town, but people - everyday human beings with families, jobs, homes - live here! Don't doubt that if we keep poking, it will spread further. The Soviets know it. This is a matter of national security, Martin!" 

Brenner tuned out his colleague's jabbering as he badgered him all the way to the surveillance room. Both of them diverted their attention to an agent pointing them to a grainy screen showing both Joyce and Will Byers outside of HNL in the parking lot just a few minutes ago. Brenner frowned as the boy slowly turned around to stare straight up at the building and he appeared to be looking with unmistakable (even from a distance) horror. Owens glanced to Brenner.

"What's he looking at?"

"No idea," Brenner answered truthfully with a hint of curiosity, but he was certain of one factor. 

"They'll be back," Brenner whispered with underlying confidence and Owens could only give exasperation. If Martin had his way, Sir Will had better be ready for a battle if that was the case.  

Chapter Text

September 8, 1984 8:00 AM

HAWKINS MIDDLE SCHOOL, HAWKINS INDIANA

Will, Mike, Dustin, and Lucas dropped their bikes off on the rack in front of Hawkins Middle before turning to the entrance and unexpectedly seeing a uniformed man standing firmly next to the doors. All four boys all glanced at each other.

"Principal Coleman must've got some money to hire this guy for security," Dustin muttered.

"You think so?" Mike asked with suspicion and Dustin shrugged. 

"I dunno, maybe because of last year? We've never had security before. He kinda looks like one of those assholes that were after El."

"Not every guard is out to get somebody, Dustin, but this is definitely weird," Lucas commented as they moved closer to the doors. The man raised a hand in greeting to the boys and then his eyes moved to Will.   

"You know that guy?" Lucas asked curiously to Will as the man stared directly at him.

"No," Will replied, ducking his head down as they walked past and swung the doors open into the school. He could feel his palms sweating and quickly wiped them on the back on his jeans. He headed straight for his locker with Mike at his heels, but froze at the sight of the papers taped to the front of the metal door. Will reached for them and pulled both down, glancing first at the newspaper clipping, showing his missing photo that Mom had given out and the headline jumping out about him coming back to life. Somebody had scrawled in crude green marker "ZOMBIE BOY" over the article and put red X's over his eyes. Accompanying this was a simplistic drawing of him depicted as a zombie falling apart with his limbs detached and off to the side of his scrawny body with spattering blood all over the page in red Crayola.  

"Probably just somebody thinking they're funny, but they can't draw for shit," Mike commented besides him, snatching the drawing and crumpling it up, tossing the tiny wadded ball into a nearby trash can. Will looked to him with worry as he stuffed the newspaper clipping into his pocket, trying to ignore the stares of students in the hallway.

"Don't worry about it too much. It's the first week of school. People will forget after a week or so," Mike falsely assured and Will shrugged, not believing that for a second. He wished he could forget about everything that had happened and just be a kid again. But people he cared about were getting hurt.

"Mike?"

"Yeah?"

"Let's talk at lunch. I'm tired of secrets. Dustin and Lucas need to know."

Mike hesitated, but then his face hardened. 

"Okay. We'll tell them everything we know."

 12:00 PM

Trays clattered with constant chatter as the boys talked over one another and made their way to their usual seats at the cafeteria table. 

"You know what's even scarier than a Demogorgon?" Mike asked as they all sat down together. 

"What?" Lucas and Dustin both said at once and Mike prodded at the slimy brown lump on his beige tray.  

"This mystery meat Phyllis served up today." 

Will made a face at his own helping and suddenly thought of the two slug creatures he'd thrown up in the past months. His appetite dissolved and he pushed his tray away, stomach swirling. 

"Hey, at least she's got really good chocolate pudding and now I know where she keeps cupfuls of the stuff, so don't go around talking too much shit or she's gonna get fired," Dustin pointed out and stabbed at his meat while Mike snorted. 

"They don't fire lunch ladies! Who'll replace her? Nobody wants that job."

"Phyllis has been here for years! She could retire soon if they don't fire her. Then where will my pudding go?!" 

"Ooh, Dustin loves the lunch lady..." Lucas sang out and made a kissy face at him. Will laughed, but Mike looked stern all of a sudden as he checked his calculator watch.

"Knock it off guys. There's something really serious Will and I have to tell you about."

"What?" Dustin loudly exclaimed and several heads turned towards them. Mike shushed him urgently and shook his head.

"Keep your voice down." 

Dustin and Lucas ate, carefully avoiding the monstrous meat, while Mike and Will (who were attempting to keep their voices as quiet as they could, but the noise in the cafeteria was making whispering impossible) told them as much as they could about Hawkins Lab, Dr. Brenner, and Eleven... especially Eleven with her strange behavior and unusual clothing. 

"Are you shitting me?" Dustin asked, dead serious, and Lucas stared in disbelief.

"It's true! Will saw her crawling on the floor and she was wearing some kind of baby sleeper pajamas, right?" Mike claimed, turning to Will for collaboration. 

"Yeah, she was and she seemed... different. Not exactly like the Eleven we knew. When I talked to her, it's like, I don't even know if she totally recognized me. She kept saying "Papa" - that's what she calls Dr. Brenner," Will explained and Lucas shook his head.

"I thought he died."

"No, we saw wrong I guess. He's really alive," Mike said in disappointment.  

"And that asshole has been using electroshock on you guys?!" Dustin's mouth was off his hinges.

Mike and Will ducked their heads in silent confirmation.

"That's criminal! Why didn't you tell us before? Wait. What if he's been doing that to El too and that's why she's different?" Dustin questioned and Mike glanced at Will.

"We don't know. But we do know he's controlling her somehow. Brainwashing." 

"Hang on - so you're saying El is like an actual baby now? Did he alter her body somehow or is he just telling her that she is?" Lucas wanted to know for certain. 

"No, I mean, she's still herself physically, but not mentally I think. We're pretty sure that Brenner has screwed up her brain into thinking she's just a baby. When Will was at the Lab, she was walking and trying to run, so her legs are fine, but she's not fine because otherwise she would try to get out of there or communicate or at least try to contact me but she can't because he's in the way..." Mike trailed off in frantic theorizing.

"And that's why she's still there. I bet she could kill everyone and escape but she can't because she's been conditioned into believing she's helpless like a baby and this Papa creep is making her dependent on him. The clothes and the crawling are the catalyst to controlling her powers," Dustin realized and the boys all stared at each other, dumbfounded in their general deduction. Had they just figured out a top secret government operation in one minute?

"We gotta get her out of there. I don't know if she can escape this time by herself," Will decided.

"I can't bring her to my house because the government's bugged my basement and Will's being watched. Do either of you guys think you could hide her?" Mike wondered to his other two friends.

"Are you kidding me? My mom's gonna definitely notice if I have some girl crawling around the house. She's not a stray cat!" Dustin exclaimed. 

"Lucas?"

"No way. Erica would go ballistic and tattle to my parents. I have a hard enough time keeping her out of my room and stealing my action figures," Lucas said, also shooting down the idea. 

"Then I'll smuggle her out of town if I have to, I guess. Hell, if I could I'd leave the state and country with her," Mike expressed with predetermination. 

"Good luck with that when you can't even drive. You think you'll hide her on your bike? Besides, she's not illegal, Mike." Lucas countered and Dustin rolled his eyes. 

"I never said it was a solid idea! And she sort of is illegal and no one else other than us gives a shit about her. Without us, she'd be lost all alone until the cops or the government found her again," Mike argued defensively.  

"What about Hopper?" Lucas asked. 

"You should've seen him arrive late to Hawkins Lab. He's a mess. Mom lost it that night and when Jonathan came home, he had to calm her down. She did call Bob and told him everything was fine, but she was crying this morning," Will spoke up as he pushed the glob of meat around and around with his fork. There was a minute of silence.

"Well, we have to think of something. I'm not going to lose her - or Will - to those bastards," Mike declared, sharing a small smile with his best friend. 

Dustin blew out a long breath.

"This is big. Code red big. We have to do something soon."

"Maybe Will is the answer," Lucas proposed and Will twisted in his seat. 

"Whaddya mean?" Mike asked curiously.

"He has access to the Lab. You aren't supposed to, Mike, and neither do we. But Will does and he knows that place better than any of us. It sounds like this Dr. Owens guy could be a pushover, so if Will can get him out of the way, or even better, get him to help because he seems to kinda care about Will, then all there is left to defeat is Dr. Brenner."

"And about a hundred guards," Will muttered glumly. 

"El has to use her powers then. She has to snap out of whatever weird mind control she's in and make a break for it, even if that means some guys get to bleed. She did it before and if Will helps, I think she could pull through. Mike, Dustin, and I will be outside with the walkie-talkies and if we can get Hopper with us, we'll have gun power too and then we'll all take her someplace safe far away. It'll be the craziest rescue ever." Lucas paused and seemed pretty proud of his slapped together, spur of the moment plan. Will sat up straighter and wondered if even a fraction of it could work. He couldn't fight soldiers and certainly not Brenner... but Lucas had a point with Owens. He was more caring than Brenner, but he still stood with him. He couldn't be trusted, but it would be easier to deal with him than Brenner alone. But what did he think of Eleven? What if he was in on it too?

"All I know is we don't have much time. I can't let El forget us and stay forever with that bastard, so we better decide on an action soon," Mike finalized and all at the table were in sounding agreement. It was up to them... again.  

3:00 PM

HAWKINS NATIONAL LABORATORY, HAWKINS INDIANA

War was complicated. War was messy. War was all about staying one step ahead of your enemies while assuming they were already one step ahead of you. It was a game without prizes, but Dr. Brenner was good at games and luckily he had a subject - no, a daughter - who was very much playable. 

Brenner unlocked the nursery room door and walked in to watch Eleven sniffle and sit up in her crib. She was clearly still upset about being spanked, but he had to show her that punishment was the consequence of disobedience and she should know that by now. Once he had reviewed the security footage of that day, he realized Sam Owens was partly to blame for letting her walk and for keeping his office door open. It was an urgent situation, so Brenner could slightly forgive the absence of closing a door in a hurry, but showing Eleven how to walk again was inexcusable. He'd had a good reprimanding session with his colleague and implemented the new policy of his office was to be locked and guarded by an MP at all times. Owens had yelled at him and threatened to walk off the job, but he easily had a change of heart when Brenner had reminded him who really was at stake here and she was to carry out one of the most important assignments they'd been secretly working towards for years in just a few days. Today was the day to make contact and he needed Eleven to stop wallowing in her self pity. 

"Eleven? Are you going to be a good girl today? I need you to be." Brenner dropped the bars down and pulled her out to set her on the floor. She didn't answer his query and kept her expression to the ground, so Brenner tipped her chin up to look at him. Her eyes were watery and bruised with betrayal. 

"Eleven. You had to be punished. You know you're not to wander too far from Papa. It's not safe." 

"Papa," she mumbled unhappily and reached for a block on the floor. He gazed at her, watching her plop the wooden block sloppily onto another one and then she knocked the two down together with a loud clack. He wondered if she was trying to show him something in a rudimentary way, but it didn't matter too much at the moment. They had important work to do. 

"Eleven, come with me," Brenner commanded, getting to his feet. She refused to budge and continued poking at her blocks. 

"Eleven, come and crawl after Papa. I might have a treat for you later..." he enticed yet she stayed put. Sighing, he leaned over and grabbed under her arms, pulling her up into him as she whined. 

"Oof," he grunted and adjusted her in his grip. 

"You're getting to be a big girl today," he told her with dulled excitement and she just stared at him with dread, clinging to his clothes. They walked a little ways and Eleven began to recognize the path as they went further underground a few floors and the air became chillier. A shiver touched her and she clung to Papa while taking in the bare, beige, slightly greenish and slightly grayish, damaged walls.   

Oh no.

Bath room. Not a bath, but The Bath.

She frowned in confusion. The Bath had been destroyed when she had made contact with the monster, hadn't it? 

The tall, heavy, solid metal door was pulled open by a guard and the wide expansive of the room enveloped them. Immediately, Eleven saw the residue from her terrifying encounter in the form of cracks in the walls, but The Bath was gone, only to be replaced by a white porcelain actual bathtub, like the one she was regularly bathed in. Her eyes gravitated around the space to take in all the many unfamiliar men and a couple of women standing at attention. Several of the men were very well dressed and radiated significance in suits. She saw Dr. Owens standing with a nurse next to the bathtub as Papa brought her over, setting her down on the hard floor and she fearfully looked up at all the faces looming above her, inspecting. 

"So this is Subject 011 in the flesh. I've heard and read great things, Dr. Brenner. Let's keep it that way and hope there will be a perfect performance today," a man with dark slicked hair and a broad smile stepped forward to Papa, shaking his hand firmly. Owens smiled a little nervously, but Brenner remained unenthused and stoic. 

"Shall we proceed, then?" the man asked, taking a step back and glancing down to Eleven. Brenner nodded and knelt to his knees to begin to pull at her sleeper, but Owens cleared his throat.

"How about giving her some privacy, Martin?"

Brenner scowled but stopped and stood up, motioning to the nurse. Eleven felt herself being taken by dainty cool hands and guided out into the hall and into a small room not much bigger than a closet. The nurse had her sit on a table and held up a much too familiar tan shirtsleeve bathing type suit. Eleven swallowed.  

"I'm going to get you suited up, okay?" The nurse unfastened her out of her sleeper, keeping the diaper on, and Eleven was too shocked to move much. The woman was fairly gentle, but brisk, and she started to put one of Eleven's legs through the garment.

"No!" Eleven gasped, scrambling away off the table in panic and the nurse sighed, reaching for her.  

"I'm sorry, but you need to get in this. It's just a few minutes and then you'll be out."

"No!" Eleven cried again and tried to wriggle out of the grip of the nurse. 

"The more you make a fuss, the harder this will be for you," the nurse warned and in a few minutes she had wrestled Eleven into the outfit, pressing the shoulder straps down and tightening the garment tight to Eleven's form. There was a sharp rap on the door and Brenner walked in with irritation.

"Is she ready yet?"

"We had a tiny bit of trouble, but she's ready now."

Brenner put his hand in Eleven's and squeezed gently as they left the room.

"I know it's been a while, but I know you will do very good for me. This isn't the same as your old bath, but you should be more used to and comfortable with this one. There's no helmet this time, just the electrode cap like we always do for tests, hmm?" Brenner looked down at her as her fingers slipped from his. Eleven dashed away and ran down the hall huffing huge breaths and her pulse raced ahead of her, too fast to catch up. Two guards unstuck themselves from the walls and jumped in front of her, aiming their guns and her instinct was a simple, violent one. 

Snap.

Snap.

Both men's necks crunched and they fell down as she zigzagged around their bodies and discarded weapons. She distinctly heard Papa's voice calling her from behind and she ran faster. Her legs propelled forward and she kept herself from looking down at her own movement because she knew if she saw herself running, she would trip. More guards approached and lunged for her, but she made quick work of them, as if they were all mere dying squirrels. Ten bodies later, Eleven began to tire and her nose was streaming blood to her lips. She slowed to a stop in front of the elevator, frantically glancing backwards to see Papa swiftly striding towards her with Owens and a couple of the unknown men rushing after him. She focused hard on the metal door, willing it to open, but her head was beginning to ache and her ears rang.

"No!" she cried, desperately punching the elevator buttons. Within an unsuccessful few seconds, Papa's hands were on her shoulders and she twisted away, crying. 

"NO! NO, PAPA! NO BATH!" Eleven screamed, cowering to the floor in front of the elevator, putting her arms up and covering her head as she crouched down. 

"Eleven, please." His voice was strained, almost pleading, and she had never heard him quite like that before. Owens and the men gathered around them with displeasure as there was a ding from the elevator and then the doors finally slid open to welcome more soldiers obviously summoned for the situation. They grabbed for Eleven, but Brenner and Owens both told them to stand down. She quivered from her spot on the floor, wishing the thudding in her head would subside. 

"We really should've given her a light sedative before springing this on her," Owens told Brenner, but he disagreed. 

"No, we need her fully aware. She'll do her best work conscious, not half asleep."

"Fine, but don't you - "

"Did you see the way she disposed of your men back there? That was quite impressive - if only she had access to every enemy soldier!" One of the new men interrupted them with underscored delight and eagerness only a man of war time could appreciate. Owens gave him a look before turning back to Brenner. 

"Let me try to talk to her then. She'll listen to me," he offered, but Brenner's mouth became a thin unforgiving line. 

"Stay away from her," he snapped and hovered around Eleven.

"Don't be ridiculous, Martin. I'll just talk to her, calm her down a bit." 

"No, you've done quite enough!"  

The two men faced each other with animosity emitting from Brenner in particular and Owens gave him a face of disbelief.

"I'm not having this conversation with you again, especially in front of our guests. Now look, we both need her to cooperate and the sooner she does, the sooner we can get this over with, right?" 

"You manipulated her into walking and now she thinks she can run right out of here," Brenner accused.

"Manipulate?! For Christ's sake, I'm not the one who scares her out of her wits! You think you've done such a good job conditioning her, then LOOK at her! Look at what you've done to your little girl."

Brenner glanced down at the shaking, sobbing child at his feet, rocking back and forth on her heels. He pushed the pain away before it could pierce him completely. 

"Just so you know, we don't have all day for this. I have to catch my flight back to Washington tonight," another man, the shiny haired one, spoke up with annoyance and Brenner bristled. 

"Come, Eleven," he barked, yanking her arms up and she whimpered, kicking at him angrily.

"Argh! No! No! NO!"

They scuffled until Owens came forward, pushing Brenner's hands away and pulling Eleven up himself. Her body went lax, all the strength seeping out of her, and she tilted into him. 

"Just don't expect me to carry you, kiddo," Owens chuckled, helping her walk forward with her feet dragging. Brenner tailed behind them like an angry goose. 

"Give her to me and we'll put her in the tub immediately before she throws a fit again."

"She's too exhausted right now. We have to wait until she recharges."

"That'll be enough time for me to talk her through the task, then."

"We'll talk her through, just in case she doesn't listen to you."

Silent hatred simmered and the men all headed back to the room of the bathtub, following the trail of dead bodies, and Owens explained to the rest of the people why the temporary pause. There were grumbles and sighs, but general understanding. A few men relaxed back to lit up cigarettes as Brenner and Owens took Eleven aside to a quiet corner of the room and sat her down on a chair. Owens pulled up another chair next to her and sat backwards in it, facing her with his arms resting on top of the back of it as Brenner went to get a file folder. 

"You'll be fine, kiddo. Just fine. This won't be scary like the last time. You'll barely even get your head wet," Owens told her, waving a hand to swat away her encircling fear. She eyed him doubtfully as Brenner came back and knelt down with papers and a bottle of water. He held it up to her lips and she relented, letting him hydrate her.

"That's my girl.... good," he praised as she sipped. 

"Okay, Eleven. Here's what I need you to focus on. Remember all those old nursery rhymes and the way you found them in here?" Brenner began, tapping at her forehead and she nodded slowly.

"And you remember all the crushing you've been doing? You did a lot just moments ago with those men." He wasn't too pleased with more dead soldiers on his hands, but that was beside the point and Eleven only glowered at him. Alright, straight to the point then. 

"I want you to find someone. A Soviet, but not a man this time." 

Without further ado, he handed over a grainy black and white photograph. Eleven's anger subsided to confusion as she held the paper gingerly. A young girl no older than her with dark hair and dark eyes faced out from the page. She wasn't smiling. 

"That's Nina. She's a girl, like you. And you are going to find her."

Eleven's eyes went back up to Papa's with curiosity alight in her eyes. Nina? A Soviet? But Soviets, whoever they were, tended to be male. Who was Nina and why was she so important? Was she in trouble?

"When you meet Nina, you'll find that she's rather..." Owens added, pausing for a second as his eyes flicked upwards to the high ceiling, as if he would find the word he was looking for there.

"... special, you might say." Owens and Brenner shared glances and Eleven stared from one to the other. Special? She was special, Papa had told her so all of her life that she was very special; one of a kind, the very best. How could Nina be so special too? 

"You'll know soon enough," Papa cryptically stated, not meeting her eyes. Owens leaned forward with an attempt to be encouraging.

"You can do it. We'll be here the whole time and you just listen to what your Papa tells you, alright?" 

Eleven glanced back at Brenner and he nodded confidently at her.  

"I want you to make contact with Nina in our new bath and you are going to let me know when you find her. It may take a couple of tries, but you will find her. Understand?" Papa's gaze was hard and focused, a familiar look she'd known for years. Nina must be very important then. Eleven didn't want to get in the bath, but finding another girl couldn't be as bad as making contact with a monster. Eleven breathed deep and then gave him a motion of quiet consent. Papa appeared satisfied in her preliminary response, but not sold yet. She had to deliver.

Owens and Brenner stood up and led her over to the bathtub in the middle of the room. Scientists and nurses crowded around her, fixing her up to machines and sticky electrodes to monitor every movement, every brainwave, every moment. Nervous deja vu gripped her senses and she closed her eyes to try to block them all out. Hands lowered her into the water and her body shivered at the cooler, barely lukewarm liquid lapping at her suit; it wasn't hot like a regular bath.

"Okay Eleven. Can you hear me?" Papa's voice sounded very close. 

She just nodded and kept her eyes shut.

"Do you need to see the picture of Nina again?" 

She begrudgingly opened her eyelids and was met with the photo held by a man's hand hovering above her as she lay in the tub. Eleven took in all of Nina's appearance and prepared herself to go deep into her mind, to wander. A black tinted visor of sorts was fitted over her face, blocking out her vision, and swathing her face in darkness, making her mind go easily into its other state of place. She explored for quite some time, or at least it seemed like it, in the black watery void. She stopped and listened in the silence for any noise, remembering how she'd found the Demogorgon that way and another shiver passed through her, not of chill, but of fright at the flashback.

"Eleven?" Papa's disembodied voice was somewhere behind or around her or nowhere.

"Can you hear me? Are you seeing anything? Yes or no?" 

Eleven opened her mouth to respond, but the slightest sound of slapping water from very far away as if at the end of a long tunnel sent her mouth snapping shut and she squinted ahead at a dim figure slowly getting larger and closer to her. It was a girl, dressed in a drab gray uniform with unmistakable dark hair pooling around her shoulders and an unsmiling round face.  

Nina?

Eleven stepped towards her with trepidation, but also blind trust because what choice did she have in the matter? The girl's eyes widened in unexpected recognition at the sight of Eleven and she called out:

"Это ты! Одиннадцать, американец! Я наконец-то нашел тебя. Или ты нашел меня..." 

Eleven cocked her head at the sound of her own name within the undecipherable language. Did Nina know her somehow?

"Американцы послали вас. Моя родина послала меня. Знаете почему?"

Eleven frowned at her speech. That sounded like a question, but for what she didn't know. 

"Вы не говорите по-русски, не так ли? Эти глупые американцы ничему вас не научили, не так ли?"

"American?" Eleven spoke slowly, hearing the word within the strange language and wanting to understand. The girl finally smiled, just a touch, at her.

"Я еще не знаю много английского, но я попробую."

Eleven cocked her head again at the girl and she beckoned for her to come closer. 

"I am Nina. You are Eleven." Her voice was heavily accented but understandable and Eleven blinked in surprise. 

"Eleven," she said, pointing at herself and holding out her tattooed arm with its inked number. Nina glanced to it.

"The Americans made you, I know."

"American?" Eleven asked. Why did Nina keep saying that word?

"Yes, American. You are American and come from America. I am Russian and come from my motherland, Russia."

Russia. That sounded familiar in conjunction with another word Eleven remembered Papa saying on numerous occasions over her lifetime.  

"Soviets." 

"That's what your makers call my people," Nina stated and Eleven paused.

"Makers?" 

"The men who made you. Don't you know anything?" 

"Papa," Eleven confidently stated and Nina frowned. 

"Papa must be your maker. He has sent you for me. Do you know why?"

Eleven shook her head and the girl's gaze darkened and she stepped closer. Her feet barely made a sound on the dark water and Eleven froze in place, unsure.

"I must kill you, Eleven. Surely you must understand that," Nina said simply and Eleven felt her stomach drop and a swooping falling sensation sending her down into the blackness, slipping through and falling back and her breath came in short gasps. Gasping gave way to grasping at the edges of the bathtub and suddenly she was back in the land of artificial light.

"Lost contact," a voice somewhere in the room reported dryly and hands tugged at her, removing the visor. Eleven blinked in the unrelenting brightness and Papa's face swam before her with interest.

"Papa, Papa - Nina - kill - " she sputtered and he shushed her. 

"Shh, Eleven, it's okay. Papa's here."

Eleven whimpered and sat up, the wires and equipment surrounding her, twinging at her arms and head. Brenner waved off the scientists and crouched down beside the tub. Dr. Owens came up behind him with the file folder and a frown. 

"Are you sure she's capable of this, Martin?" 

"Eleven will be fine. Give me the paperwork."

"Well, let's not make this overly complicated. She just needs to complete the mission without too much drama."

Owens handed over the file and Brenner leafed through it, finding a few pieces.

"You must know why Nina is indeed special like you. She too is very good at hurting and killing, even being able to stop the beating heart of a frog without touching it. She is gifted, but dangerous."

He pressed papers of hastily jotted notes, sheets showing many dots and encrypted codes, into her hands. There was an attached clipped photograph showing Nina seated at a table with a dish in front of her that held presumably the dead frog. 

"Men have risked their lives and some themselves have been killed over information on Nina. You must understand the key part here though, Eleven. Nina is a danger. A danger to all of us, but most of all to you. You are the frog to her. Nina will kill you if you let her. But that's not going to happen because you are going to eliminate her. Kill her. Crush her." As Papa spoke, Eleven felt uneasy. She never knew Nina was such a threat. She hadn't even known Nina existed. Was it true? This girl really wanted and was going to kill her? 

"Understand?" Brenner demanded again, giving the papers back to his colleague and studying her closely. Eleven looked away, frowning. 

"Listen to me. Nina is a threat and a monster. She must be crushed," he whispered with soft force. 

"Monster?" Eleven whispered. Nina hadn't appeared to be a monster, but maybe Papa was right. But he lied. Why should she trust him now?

"Yes. A real monster." 

"Okay," Eleven gave in. She was feeling tired yet curious all at once. Perhaps Nina would tell her more about who she was. At least, if she didn't kill her right away.

Eleven was deposited back down into the tub with ease and she went off again into her head, feeling unsteady of how long she could hold the connection, but Nina was still there, waiting. She didn't waste long in taking action and without even lifting a hand, flung Eleven backwards and she landed on her back with a slap on the dark water. Eleven gasped and sat up as Nina stood over her with pristine concentration. 

"Eleven, I am sorry. I will do it quickly," Nina bluntly told her and Eleven lifted a hand, feeling a vibration within her fingers. No way was she going down without a fair fight. Nina's back arched and she struggled against the invisible clutch. Her face tightened and she wrung her arm, desperately trying to regain feeling of control. She had underestimated the American. 

"Wait!" Eleven cried, loosening up a bit, and Nina's eyes narrowed.

"Bad?" Eleven plainly quizzed of her set-up opponent.  

"You are bad. I have been told all the pain you cause. You opened gate to another world."

Both girls dropped their simultaneous grips on each other and slumped to the water. 

"Gate?" Eleven was perplexed. 

"You let out the monster! The new weapon the Americans will use! You are bad and I must complete what I found you for." Nina jumped to her feet and her head shook with effort as Eleven screamed, feeling her lungs being pressed, squeezed thin, and her heart chugged roughly against her chest as she was pinned to the bottom of the blackness. 

Outside her mind, her body was being put through the same rigor, but her ears were deaf to the humming, whirring, and frantic beeping of machines. Her brainwaves were spiking off the charts and sheets of data were rolling off the machine, tumbling into the hands of a scientist. 

"Is she doing it?" a man asked of the doctors, but Brenner and Owens didn't bother answering him as they rushed over to the bathtub and stood over, looking down at Eleven convulsing and breathing in ragged rasps. 

"It doesn't look like she's doing well at all, Martin!" Owens said loudly, attempting to unplug the machines and take the visor from her face, but Brenner brushed him off.

"No, don't. She needs to hold on, she will win." 

"She's not winning anything, she's DYING!" Owens yelled as the beeping increased and then the spikes sank towards flat lining.  

"Eleven!" Brenner called above the tub, but it didn't matter. Eleven was distantly someplace else, feeling the pressure of death suffocating her and she fought to stay conscious even though the darkness of the void was transferring into her field of vision. She was failing... failing Papa. He would never take care of her ever again... perhaps if she did make it out alive, but if Nina did too, then he would severely punish her. If she died and Nina did as well, at least there wouldn't be the shame to face from him. Her thoughts blurred as death became a speeding bullet racing in the dim space.   

"No," she choked and Nina prepared for the final crunch. Eleven reached up in vain for Nina's face, causing her to lose her focus as Eleven's fingers brushed her chin... and then both of them went suddenly spinning into more darkness. Eleven felt her mouth screaming but she oddly couldn't hear a sound. She keep herself tethered to the feel of Nina's soft skin and then quickly found herself in a dingy tiny room. 

"Nina." A gruff voice spoke off to her left... or was it Nina's left? Was she now in Nina? Or was Nina in her? 

"Get the rat." The male voice spoke in the same foreign language Nina had, but Eleven could somehow understand it now. 

A loud squeaking filled the room as a shadow with a long tail raced around on the floor. 

"Too fast, I can't!" Eleven - no, Nina - shrieked. 

"NOW!" A man's hand came thundering down hard on the tabletop and she flinched. 

"NO!" Nina screamed and fell forward, bleeding from her nose and ears. Men in olive khaki uniforms beat the girl as she writhed and hollered on the filthy floor. 

"Perhaps you will do better next time."

The scene dissolved into another just as bleak as the prior, but this time outside in a world of white. Flakes of snow fluttered around the girl's swollen, bruised arms. Ahead about twenty feet was an unarmed soldier standing, visibly quivering with a bullseye target painted in bright red on his uniform. Eleven and Nina jumped at the loud sound of a gunshot nearby and the jolt sent her running towards her target. The man's eyes ballooned and he dove out of the way as Nina shoved him and her cold feet plodded through snow towards a wide expansive of barren white land. Of where she could go, she didn't know because blackness hit her and everything was gone. 

What felt like only seconds later (though time was indifferent) she was back inside the cramped room yet she felt bigger, taller. A man with red on his hat and stars on his breast was leaning over her, tapping a pencil against a picture book depicting forest animals.  

"The eagle feeds while the bear starves. What must the bear do?" 

"Claw the eagle's wings apart and eat him in turn."

"Very good, Nina. Soon it is time and you will not fail." 

The room mashed and pulsed until Eleven was thrown out with the force of a tornado and back to facing the girl in front of her in the otherwise empty void. It took both of them several seconds to gather their bearings again and Eleven gasped at the realization collected from Nina's mind.  

"Hurt... they hurt you. Hurt to hurt me."

Nina was crying and she was trying to hopelessly pretend she wasn't.

"I have to. My motherland needs me. You must die." 

"I'm sorry," Eleven whispered, touching her cheek like Papa did to her often. She wanted to help her and watched as Nina's face became tender for just a moment before fading away and flickering back to rigid, sharp... murderous.

"You die now, Eleven." Her voice was dead set and Eleven came to the unfortunate conclusion of knowing in a split second whose life was coming first. One of them had to give before it was too late and Eleven wasn't going to pay another price.

Sorry.

The crack reverberated throughout the empty space as she snapped Nina's bones in two and the girl's body dropped as limp as a doll and Eleven slipped far, far away beneath the water...

"Eleven. Eleven! ELEVEN!" Voices called to her from a great distance and she ran to them, although she couldn't feel her feet running with her. Was she moving at all? Was she falling? Floating? Feeling? The weightlessness frightened her immensely. Lights flashed in her eyes and gradually the consuming wetness found her senses. Papa's face was the first she saw.

"Eleven, it's your Papa. I'm here," he urgently said and hands reached for her face. If she'd been more aware, she would have known the whole room had erupted in triumph over what had just appeared to have occurred. Eleven was alive, which meant the other was not. She had done it. It would take some time for the reports to come in confirmation over code, but it was a sure bet she'd done it. Nina was dead. 

Eleven knew she had won the game, yet she only felt utterly exhausted. Papa picked her up and cradled her before she was wiped down with towels and a camera flashed. Owens and Papa were shaking many hands and somewhere between watching them and being taken back to her room, Eleven dozed off. Sleep was a nice reprieve from all the people and government men.

A hand rubbing her buzzed hair brought her slowly back to and her head pounded in protest. She just wanted to sleep, but Papa was pulling at her. Groggily, she was helpless as Papa lifted her up again and didn't set her into her crib right away, instead opting to seat her onto the changing cot and change her out of her outfit and into a new diaper and sleeper. She sat up with effort and he smiled at her with pride. 

"You did so well, daughter. Papa's very proud of you," he told her earnestly and moved to grab a cloth bib from the table, tying it snugly around her neck. Her forehead ached and she wondered how long it had been since Nina. Was it dinnertime already? 

"You've been such a good girl for me, I think you deserve a reward. A special treat that I know you will enjoy very much," Papa explained and Eleven perked up. Eggos crossed her mind. Would she finally get to have a waffle? 

Brenner left the room for a minute and then came back with a couple of small jars in his hands and her face fell slightly. More mushy food wasn't the special treat she had in mind... but she was starting to feel rather hungry. Papa sat down before her and twisted off the lid on one of the jars, revealing an orange colored soft food. He dipped a spoon in and scooped up a glob full to take to her mouth. Eleven reluctantly opened and expected another meal of bland goop, but to her surprise, it didn't taste bland at all. It was hearty and rather sweet, not as much as an Eggo, but pretty good from what she was used to. She happily ate the rest from the jar and Papa smiled again.

"You like the sweet potatoes, little one?" 

Sweet potatoes. 

She'd had potatoes before - those were white mush - but she had no idea they could come in a sweet form. Eleven licked her lips and he opened the second jar to feed to her. She ate so fast she ended up with a bit dripped on her chin and bib. He wiped her face and then pulled off her bib and then let her lean onto his lap. 

"Good girl, Eleven."

His gestures of caring were enough to make her almost forget he was bad. He spanked her a few days ago for running to him. He'd had her kill a girl she had barely known only a short time ago and yet she felt an awful sense of completion and satisfaction. She'd survived and done what Papa needed her to do, she was being rewarded and given affection, everything was okay... 

Yet her mind boomeranged back to what was definitely not okay. Will had seen her and she had payed the price of pain for it. Will and his mom were in danger from Papa and his bad men and she wondered what had happened to them. Mike was out there without her. There was still a whole world waiting for her to escape back into, but Papa's world needed her too and she, in a desperate sense, needed him. The confliction of her feelings was festering in her and becoming an affliction she knew couldn't continue forever. Sooner or later, Eleven knew inside her heart she was going to have to choose who to align with: Papa or Mike. Papa or friends.

Papa or the world. 

Chapter Text

September 29, 1984 10:00 AM

BYERS HOUSE, HAWKINS INDIANA 

Bacon sizzled and Jonathan plopped a few crispy pieces onto a cream colored plate before sliding it down the counter. It was Saturday morning and he was making a rare full spread breakfast of bacon, pancakes, and eggs while Joyce hovered around near the sink, scrubbing a dish from last night's dinner. Will sat at the table working on a new drawing for D&D and sipping orange juice from a glass. 

"Any plans today?" she asked of her boys.

"Mom, when are we gonna go back to the Lab?" Will spoke up, trying to make his voice casual and almost teetering on excited as he scribbled in his notebook. Joyce turned around and stared at him.

"Honey, I thought it was made clear that we are not going back to that place. I don't care what your doctor says. Are you feeling okay?" Joyce automatically went to feel his forehead for a fever and he pulled away from her touch. Jonathan slowly set down the plate he had put out on the counter next to Will's drawing and a deep frown creased his face, giving him the look of someone older than his years. 

"Mom, I'm fine. I was just wondering."

"Wondering what? You don't need to go back there. No one has said anything to you, have they?"

"No, I just thought maybe it would be a good idea to see Dr. Owens. You know, to keep in touch in case I get sick."

"Why? Sweetie, if you get sick we're going to a regular hospital with a nice, normal doctor. I would only have Dr. Owens see you if he was the last physician on earth."

"What about Dr. Brenner?" Will asked quietly, mostly just to test her reaction. 

"Are you kidding me?! Will, I don't know why you're asking these questions; you hate that place and those men, and what they did to you and others was unacceptable. As for Dr. Brenner, he can take his practice UP HIS ASS for all I care!" Joyce shook her head and threw the sponge into the sink while Jonathan was staring a hole into his younger brother. 

"Jonathan, what are you doing today? Can you watch Will while I'm at work?"  

"Mom, I'm not a little kid!" Will protested as Jonathan's eyes bugged out and he dropped a spoon. 

"Um, I can for a few hours, but I'm going out tonight to see Nancy. It-it's uh, it's a study thing... is that alright?" he sheepishly asked and Joyce beamed. 

"Oh, Jonathan, it's getting more serious isn't it? It was so nice of her to break up with that Steve Harrington."

"Mom, please," he begged, face flushing, as Will squirted too much syrup on his pancakes and remembered Mike telling him that Nancy had broke off with Steve because she felt guilty about her friend Barb's death and she knew Barb hadn't been exactly happy about Steve being in the picture, so she took her friend's last advice and called it quits. To her credit, from what Will and Mike could observe, Steve had seemed like a total jerk who only wanted to get in Nancy's pants. He was nicer now after having come head to head with the Demogorgon, but Will didn't mind Jonathan hanging out with Nancy entirely - preferred it, actually, as he thought Jonathan was ten times better than Steve - but it scared him some, too. Jonathan was spending less and less time with him because of a girl and it didn't help that Mike had such strong feelings Eleven. At least Dustin and Lucas didn't have girlfriends, but more often than not he caught them ogling at girls they passed in school or in town, but thankfully nothing was sticking; they were still freaks and nerds. But it was only a matter of time and he knew that. Will wasn't frightened for his friends, he was frightened for himself. Jonathan dating Nancy made him dread the eventual; his brother going away off to college, maybe even marrying Nancy or if he found another girl (which Will personally thought was very unlikely, but you never know), and then finally leaving them for good. 

The future made him shudder.

"No, I really think that it's great that you're seeing her. I just want to see you happy, Jonathan. This could be a new start for all of us," Joyce continued and Will scowled at his flapjacks. What did Mom mean by that? 

A sudden knock at the door sent all their heads turning. Joyce wiped her hands on a towel and started towards the hall, but Jonathan dropped the spatula to the counter and jumped in front of her.

"No, I'll get it Mom."

Joyce looked bemused and smiled at Will as Jonathan's footsteps faded. 

"I bet he thinks it's Nancy. He's so in love, isn't it wonderful?" 

Will stabbed a fork into the stack of pancakes and took a quick, angry bite and chewed so he didn't have to answer her. Only a moment later, Jonathan came back and from the look of his face, it definitely wasn't Nancy.

"Mom. It's the Chief. He wants to talk to you."

Joyce startled a bit, but headed for the front door to see Hopper filling up the space in a pose with both arms up, hands resting against the door frame and she had to admit it that he did look a little sexy.  

"Hey, Joyce. Got a few minutes?"

She grabbed a sweater from the coatrack and slid it on as they sat down on the porch. The air was cool and the sun was a bright spot in the thick, gauzy overcast sky overseeing the deciduous trees in a state of transitioning into classic fall colors. Joyce's preconceived emotions towards Hopper shifted aside as she side-eyed him. He looked tired with bags under his eyes and now with a full, scraggly sprouted beard. He took a lengthy breath and removed his hat before loudly exhaling.

"You know the day you took Will to the lab and I came late?"

"Yeah, how could I forget? You were so wasted, Hop." Joyce rolled her eyes and pulled her sweater tighter around herself. 

"There was a reason for it, believe it or not."

"Really? Besides the usual?"

"Hear me out, Joyce. Look... uh, the night before Diane called me."

"Oh, right. Your ex-wife Diane. That Diane?"

"Well, the thing is I wrote to her awhile back, just wanting to know if maybe she'd wanna meet up... you know, as friends."

Joyce sighed and lit up a cigarette. 

"I know it's stupid, but I can't stop thinking about Sara and what she would think of us separated and divorced. She wouldn't have wanted us to grow apart and hate each other, it's not what I ever wanted to have happened and well... anyway, Diane called me and told me to stop bothering her and that she's very happy with her husband and their two year old kid and that she never wanted to hear from me again... and that our love went to Sara's grave." 

Joyce leaned closer to him sympathetically as his eyes stung.

"Oh, Hop... I don't know how to say this but... you've gotta let go. The past isn't going anywhere and it can't change, but you can. For your own sake, you need to let this go. Tuck it away and try to heal. It's not doing you any good to stay in this place of pain and reopening these, these wounds. Diane's obviously moved on and I think you need to as well."

"You really mean all that, Joyce?"

"Well, yeah of course I do. I can't stand seeing you hurting over some ex-wife and boozing yourself to death. Sara would have hated to see that. I can't stand to see it, Will shouldn't be seeing it; he needs a healthier role model. You know he sees you as a father figure and after all, you did save his life... " Joyce swallowed and wiped at her eyes. Hopper felt moved by her words and a spark of hope ignited within him as Joyce went on.   

"I thought there would be no one after Lonnie and the divorce was finalized. I was done with the whole business of being with any man. But then Bob comes along after all these years of just seeing him as a friend and now he's not only a friend anymore. He's been my saving grace, but it's hard to keep all this from him with everything that's been going on with Will and Hawkins Lab, it's been a lot. I just want to put it all behind me, behind the boys, but I'm not sure I can stay in Hawkins anymore. I'm thinking of moving." She took a drag on the cigarette and blew it out to the wind. Hopper's brief hope fizzled and went as flat as week old soda.

"Have you told the kids?" 

"No, and I don't know if I'll even go through with it. It's just an idea Bob and I were kicking around. I mean, it's so complicated; Jonathan's dating Nancy Wheeler, Will has his group of friends and he's so bonded with Mike, Donald needs me at Melvald's... there's a whole community established here, yet I feel things are changing. Every night I keep having the thought of just pulling up stakes and getting the hell outta town."

"Sounds like a vacation is what you need."

"That wouldn't solve anything," Joyce scoffed and put out her cigarette. Hopper sat up straighter, putting his hat back to his head.  

"I'll give you a good reason not to leave. There's a little girl down the road that needs our help." Joyce quickly met his serious eyes and raised her eyebrows. 

"What're you getting at...?"

"You wanna talk about moving on and getting out, then El's going with us." He proceeded to carefully tell her what he knew and what he had gathered from Will and the boys, yet he could tell Joyce was skeptical, which was saying something for her.  

"So... you're telling me that Dr. Brenner is putting this twelve year old girl in diapers and baby clothes? I just don't know, Hop. That's outrageous." 

"I saw the diapers, Joyce. I saw the whole damn set-up he has in there for her; the crib, stuffed animals, everything."

"Okay, okay. I trust you. It's just, whatever I was expecting - that wasn't it," Joyce almost laughed and Hopper tried to chuckle along with her because he knew it sounded bizarre. 

"But that doesn't sound exactly incriminating, I mean it's weird, but he's not torturing her like he did to my boy, right?"

"It's psychological abuse and he's using it to control and brainwash her. You tell me if that's okay. And that's the very least I know."

"What can we do about it?"

"I'm figuring out a plan, but I'll need your help and especially Will's. He's the key to getting in that place without getting beat up and shot."

"Oh God, so that's why Will was asking about going to see the doctors just minutes ago. When did he talk to you?"

"A few days ago and Mike won't quit bothering me about it," Hopper grumbled.

"This throws a wrench into things, I guess. I wasn't ever going back there," Joyce sighed again and Hopper put a hand on her shoulder. 

"Listen, Joyce. I want you to know that I'll do whatever I can to keep you and Will safe. I promise. Just think about it, okay?" 

She nodded slowly and then stood up, going to the door, and hesitantly closing it behind her, shutting her eyes and leaning her back against the wood, digesting Hopper's words. Of course she wanted to help that girl, but she had also vowed to wipe her hands free of Hawkins Lab. If she didn't have the power and resources to shut it down, then she didn't want anything to do with them at least... but her motherly instincts (plus knowing what Dr. Brenner was like towards past and present so-called 'patients') were telling her that she shouldn't pass this one up. 

6:00 PM

BRADLEY'S BIG BUY, HAWKINS INDIANA

The metal cart squeaked across the shiny linoleum as Hopper pushed it, turning down into the cereal aisle and picking out a few boxes of Kellogg's Honey Smacks. Another shopper's cart bumped gently up against his own front end and Hopper glanced up from the boxes to see a familiar, but unexpected, face. 

"Hey, fancy seeing you here Doc."

"Just stocking up on the essentials." Dr. Owens gestered down to his cartful depicting average American pantry and fridge items. He leaned down and plucked up a big box of General Mills Lucky Charms already in the cart and pointed at it. 

"You like these? They're as sugary as they look, but taste damn good."

"I think I'll pass on those, besides I already got a couple of Kellogg's." Hopper dropped the two boxes down into his cart and Owens stepped closer, pushing the box towards his hands. 

"Nah, c'mon. Have a box, I know you'll like 'em."

"Alright, if you insist. Hey, what do they fill these things with? Rocks?" Hopper raised his eyebrows as he accepted, shaking the box and it rattled loudly.

"It must be one of those toys they put inside," Owens shrugged and Hopper paused at the memory, smiling slightly. 

"It's funny..."

"What's that?"

"Sara kept a stash of evey single toy she got from a box... even if it was just some crappy plastic whistle. Every morning we had cereal, she always loved ripping open every box to find what was inside so much she would forget about eating."

"Well, she was a smart girl because who knows, those toys could be worth something thirty years from now."

"Yeah..." Hopper gazed down at the box, lost in thought, and Owens gave him a moment before maneuvering his cart around and walking past. 

"See ya around, Chief-O."

"See ya, Doc," Hopper mumbled as he felt the box again. It sure felt heavy for twenty ounces. He looked back at Owens going away down another aisle and his eyebrows pinched together. His gut was convincing him there was something very odd about that whole interaction and this Lucky Charms cereal box, but he figured he'd better figure it out on his own privately, so he cut his shopping trip short and went to checkout. The cashier ringing him up seemed half asleep and didn't look twice at the heavier cereal box, dumping it into a brown paper bag. Hopper handed over the money and grabbed his two bags, walking fast out of the store. 

"Keep the change!" he called over his shoulder and went out into the parking lot where his Chevy awaited. A light drizzle was falling and reflecting streaks of streetlights on the pavement as he hopped into the driver's side with the bags. Part of him wanted to rip the box open right here and now, but he knew it would be safer to take it home and who knew when Owens would leave the store? Hopper didn't want to be still sitting here when he came out, so he placed the bags on the seat next to him and put the truck in gear. As he drove home, his brain jumped to speculation and various conclusions, each one worse than the last, of what could be in the box and why Owens had been so insistent about breakfast food. What if there was a goddamn bomb planted in there? Hopper's military background told him anything was possible and Owens was already suspicious; Brenner could have set him and the whole situation up. 

Or maybe it was just really heavy cereal... but he doubted it. 

Finally getting to his home, Hopper pulled in and parked, double checking the bags as he went and unlocked his door. He flipped the lights on and gingerly set the bag with the Lucky Charms down on the table in the living room. He pulled out the box and noticed a strip of tape running across one end flap. Shit. So there was something inside. Carefully, he peeled back the cardboard and pressed an ear to it to hear any sort of ticking. 

Silence.

Gradually, Hopper opened up the cereal box and at first he saw piles of fluffy colored marshmallows in assorted shapes (including rainbows, four leaf clovers, horseshoes, and hearts) along with the frosted oats. He shook the box and was caught by surprise as a grey and black object similar in size and shape to a standard novel slid out suddenly into his hands with a liberal sprinkling of cereal. 

"What the hell?" he gasped, tossing the box aside to the floor and flicking stray cereal off his hands. It was a VHS tape with a date written in ink on the side: 

9/3/84

No note, nothing else besides the tape. Hopper tapped it to see if this was some kind of disguise, but it just felt like a VHS. Scowling, he inserted it into his machine and at first, there was only wavy, fuzzy static, but then a black and white image of a room blinked to life and Hopper tilted close to the TV. He recognized it as the room with the crib and cot... Eleven's. For the first few minutes nothing happened, so he hit fast forward until there was a visible commotion at the doorway and then he saw clearly Eleven being thrown onto her hands and knees into the room and a tall figure come striding in after her. Brenner. He yanked her up, appearing to undo her outfit, and wrestled her onto his lap, leaning her body over his knees, her bare bottom exposed. Her grainy screams rang out from the footage and Hopper rubbed his beard, having to glance away as Brenner spanked her continuously again and again. Eventually he stopped and walked out, mentioning something about her being a "bad girl" and the end result, before the tape clicked off, was a traumatized, mostly naked girl on the floor, audibly sobbing. Hopper ejected the VHS and turned it over and over in his hands, thinking. It only added to his accumulating list of all the attributes he hated about Dr. Brenner, but it also made him wonder about the motive behind the punishment. Had she tried to escape again? Hopper recalled his own father spanking him and striking him with a belt once... whether he had deserved it or not was a moot point, but he knew El likely didn't deserve it and Hopper found himself resolving that it was about time to pin down Dr. Owens and have a chat with him. 

Chapter Text

September 30, 1984 7:00 PM

HIDEAWAY BAR, HAWKINS INDIANA

Hopper tucked the package under his arm and removed his hat, holding it besides him as he pushed against the door and made his way past the counter to a table, spotting the very man he was intending to meet here. The bar was fairly quiet tonight and just a low rumble from other men talking and the football game playing from the TV filled the dim space. 

"Hey, Chief. I went ahead and bought a drink for you and you're welcome to this. More than enough here for me," Owens smiled, sliding a beer across the table and pointing at a sizable sandwich on a plate in front of him. 

"Thanks, Doc. Appreciate it," Hopper replied, voice low as he sat across from Owens and passed the small, plain cardboard box under the table. Owens inconspicuously glanced down quickly, taking it to his lap, and then setting it next to him on the seat under his coat. He straightened up, keeping his eyes on Hopper as the Chief lit up a cigarette.

"Figured you might want that back," Hopper mumbled.

"Martin hasn't noticed yet. I'm going to return it tonight."

"Pretty clever with those Lucky Charms... did you come up with that?" 

"Myself and an agent of mine did. I didn't know how else to get it to you safely."  

"Well, you know what they say about food being the way to a man's heart," Hopper grinned slyly and Owens chuckled.

"Yeah, I've heard that one a few times."

"So we have an agreement in trust, then? We're gonna help this girl?" Hopper asked, eyeing him carefully and Owens cleared his throat.

"Well, you know my hands are mostly tied in terms of what I presume you want, but I do want to help her. She's not just any kid though and that's the problem we both face. We need her at HNL just as much as she needs to be under official supervision." 

"I won't let her be a lab rat the rest of her life."

"I know that. I do. But what I'm saying is if - and I mean if - there was a problem to arise in terms of beyond our control, she needs to be with us."

"You mean like last year when whatever the hell you guys were doing in there leaked out and a monster from some parallel dimension was let loose and began hunting down kids in this town?" 

"That was Martin's fault for failing to contain it. Remember, this is all new for us and men of science make mistakes. I, however, have no intention of exposing Hawkins any further. That monster or creature is gone, but there may be more and that's where Eleven comes in. She's here to keep us safe."

"A weapon." 

"For lack of a better term, yes. She's our only defense mechanism against whatever is out there."

"So you're just gonna keep her there, locked up with that psychotic son of a bitch? And you'll sneak me these tapes showing all the sick things he does to her, knowing I can't do anything about it alone?" 

"That's not what I'm proposing," Owens replied with some irritation. 

"Then what are you suggesting?"

"I don't have a long term solution, but I can gain you access to see her. What I need from you is Will."

"Will? What the hell do you want from him?" 

"Convince Joyce Byers to bring her son in for an appointment this upcoming week. I know she won't listen to me, but she will to you. I'll take you to Eleven and we can talk to Martin together." 

"I'm not trading Will."

"This isn't a trade. It's an opportunity. I'll take you to her and you can see for yourself the situation. Eleven..." Owens paused, glancing off to the side and Hopper scowled. 

"What?" 

"She needs special care. What he's done to her... Well, let's just say she's not exactly up to her normal age."

"I figured that much."

"Martin's rather committed to her and she's been with him since actual infancy. So the upshot is that, legally, I can't do much at the moment." 

The two men were silent for a minute or two and Hopper stared hard at the beer in his hand, knowing he wasn't going to find the answer there, but he always hoped he would. 

"I think if I convinced Martin to allow timed visitation periods for you, Joyce, and possibly even the boys, that'll help her emotionally and will give you an inside look. How about that for a compromise?" Owens spoke up in suggestion.

"Does sound like a prison," Hopper muttered more to himself and Owens scoffed. 

"It's the best I can offer. She needs to remain in the facility for now. I wish Martin wasn't overseeing her entire care and more willing to bend, but trust me, that's not how this works. I know you want to see her and maybe she'll love to see you, too. But she's not going home with anyone and visitation is our only option at the moment."

"Look, I'll get Will to you and you get me to El. Then we'll go from there," Hopper finalized and Owens seemed relieved. Hopper reached a hand across and shook the doctor's hand firmly before standing up, taking a swig from the beer before bidding Owens farewell and exiting the bar. He returned to his truck and drove to the police station even though it was late. His headlights cast against the shiny metal of a few bikes haphazardly strewn on the sidewalk in front of the building. Hopper shut off the engine and went inside with a jingle of the door to see Flo sitting at reception trying to corral and calm down three boys he knew too well: Mike, Dustin, and Lucas. 

"About time you came. These kids have more energy than a pack of puppies," Flo complained dryly as she waved them towards the Chief. 

"How about all three of you come into my office, huh?" Hopper grinned, shepherding the boys down the hall. He noticed one missing. 

"Where's Will?" 

"He's at home. He said something earlier in school about not feeling too good and went to the office, so his mom picked him up and she didn't want him out tonight. I think he's catching a cold," Mike explained and Hopper frowned as he sat down at his desk, crossing his legs and resting his feet up on the wood top. He surveyed the jittery boys and when they didn't say anything, he finally asked. 

"I'm betting you guys want to know something?" 

"Have you found out any more about El?" Dustin blurted out. Hopper cast a glance around and closed his window blinds.

"Can I trust you kids to keep your mouths shut on this?" 

"Yes," Mike agreed at once. 

"I swear on my mother," Dustin promised seriously. 

"Let's shake on it," Lucas said, spitting into his hand and extended it to Hopper, who raised his eyebrows. 

"Nah, no, you don't need to do that. Alright, so listen up. I just met with Dr. Owens to give him back something that he shared with me yesterday. It was a tape of security footage showing El with Brenner and - "

"Is she okay?" Mike demanded before he could go further.

"The footage was taken back on the third of this month when Will went with Joyce to Hawkins Lab. From what Will told me, I'm thinking El tried to escape when she met him and what was caught on tape was Brenner spanking her hard in punishment."

Mike looked furious.

"When I get my hands on him, I'm going to separate his head from - "

"Now hold on. We have to play this very carefully, this isn't one of your dragon slaying adventures, okay? This is the government."

The boys chattered over themselves with questions and theories. 

"Hey, hey. One at a damn time. I've only got two ears," Hopper told them and Mike started to speak, but then there was a knock on the door and the boys shut up immediately, sinking down into chairs. Hopper held up a finger and stood up as Officer Powell walked in, a slip of paper in his hand. 

"You're a wanted man tonight, Chief. There's a woman out there waiting for you. Let's see..." Powell glanced at his paper. 

"Uh, says her name is Ives. Becky Ives. Needs a word with you privately, she won't file a report. No idea what it's about." His eyebrows jumped up and Hopper pointed to the boys. 

"Gonna have to talk more about your garden gnomes getting stolen later, boys. Powell, you mind making sure they leave?" 

"No problem, Chief. Garden gnomes?" 

"It's a real epidemic," Hopper muttered and brushed past him to the front where Flo pointed him to a woman who stood waiting, smoking a cigarette and appearing somewhat nervous.

"Can we talk?" she asked with strain to her voice and Hopper just nodded, beckoning her to follow him to his office. The boys rushed out, bumping into the two as Powell called out to them about sticking to riding on the roads and Dustin glanced back at the station as they jumbled out the door.

"Garden gnomes, my ass. I bet he's slept with that lady and that's why he was so fast to get us out."

"Dustin!" Mike exclaimed, elbowing him in the ribs. 

"Geez, I'm just saying! You know he's been with every woman who's single in this town!" 

"I've never even seen her before," Mike noted curiously.

"Maybe she just moved here." 

"Do you think she's in trouble?"

"Who knows? Maybe he's checking her out."

"Who cares...? We didn't even get to finish our whole conversation with him!" Lucas moaned. 

"We'll just go back tomorrow," Mike promised as they rode away, off into the dark. 

Back inside Hopper's office, the Chief leaned forward on his desk and studied Becky Ives. 

"How's your sister? She doing okay?" 

"Oh, my sister's fine. Well, as fine as you can get in her condition, but... no, uh, I came here tonight to talk to you about a visit I had back in June."

"Go on...?"

"I've been sitting on this for months and I wasn't going to tell you at all, but then I was rereading this paperwork tonight and I couldn't ignore it. I didn't know who else to go to." 

"What happened in June?"

"So my sister's former doctor, Dr. Brenner, comes out of the blue to my door to talk and he brought all these declassified documents with him."

Hopper tried to keep his face composed and neutral, but this was a very compelling confession. 

"He told me that Terry had schizophrenia and he presented this paperwork that I accepted. For weeks, I thought and thought about it until I didn't want to think about it anymore, so I filed the papers away. Well, tonight I was rearranging some stuff in the living room and Terry was still awake watching a late night show on TV. I was carrying a box of files and all the lights suddenly went out in the room. You know, I just had a electrician out to the house a few weeks to fix some wiring, so obviously there's still work to be done I guess. Anyway, it caused me to trip and drop the box. As I'm fumbling around in the dark, the lights come back on. All the paperwork in the box fell out onto the floor, so I stop to pick them back up and something caught my eye. I noticed that on one of the documents, a doctor was listed as Terry's childhood primary physician. There was a whole authorized signature from this doctor and on the report, you know, everything detailing this diagnosis of schizophrenia. The only problem is that I don't recognize the name of the doctor that signed off on all this stuff. Our family doctor, Paul Emerson, passed away years ago. I couldn't find his name at all on the paperwork. This other doctor is identified as some guy named Todd Jacobson. I've never even heard of him and Terry never mentioned anyone with that name. As far as I knew, Dr. Brenner was the only one assigned to her. Now his signature is on the diagnosis as well, but... I don't know. Maybe I'm overthinking this." Becky took a breath, shook her head, and put out her cigarette.   

"False name, false diagnosis. It doesn't surprise me," Hopper admitted gruffly with a nod, reaching into his desk to grab a pad of paper. 

"Well, I don't know about that. I mean, it looks so official, but like I said that man listed as Terry's doctor since childhood never was."

"Do you have the papers with you?" 

"Oh - yes, actually. Here..." Becky rummaged in her purse, pulling out a manila folder and handing it to him. Hopper removed the paperwork and looked it over. She was right about the names and Brenner's signature with the diagnosis.  

"Was there anything else?" Hopper wondered. 

"On the documents?" 

"No, how about when Dr. Brenner visited you? Did he say anything unusual?" 

"He was pretty courteous and a gentleman, but there were a couple odd aspects..."

"Like what?" 

"I..." Becky paused, looking around the office apprehensively.

"You can tell me, Becky. No one can hear you but me. You have complete confidentially here." He knew; every day he checked his office for any bugs. 

"He seemed interested when I mentioned about you looking for that mother's kid," Becky admitted.

"Yeah?  

"Yeah, I told him a little about your visit and then he wanted to know if I believed that the government was in on everything. You know, the conspiracies people like my sister bought into."

"What did you say?"

"I told him I'm unsure, but I do have faith in the government in general. Obviously some of these theories are absolute illogical crap, I mean, like using aliens and people having telepathy to spy on the Soviets, and, well, we don't have to get into that. But this, this mistake I guess you could call it, in this very paperwork is making me question."

"Aliens?" Hopper smirked.

"Right? Who knows, though? Anyway... and I know this is going to sound weird, but he also had an interest in this teddy bear Terry had set up in nursery. He told me he has a granddaughter who would love it, so I let him take it, but..." 

Hopper wanted to roll his eyes. That man knew no ends to deception. Then it dawned on him; the teddy bear he saw on the floor at Hawkins Lab must've been this one Becky was talking about. What kind of game was Brenner playing?

"He seemed so very invested in all this, still interested in Terry and I think he felt bad about her experience after all these years, and I suppose it's great he gave me this information, but I don't like that there's this one name on these documents that doesn't add up. I'm confused and I thought you should know. I guess I'm getting worried and having - I never thought I'd admit this - a doubt about him and what happened to Terry. That's all."

Hopper paused, mulling over her words as he uncapped a ballpoint pen in his hands. 

"You mind repeating some of that, Becky?"

She nodded and he flipped open the notepad to begin jotting down her story. 

9:00 PM

HAWKINS NATIONAL LABORATORY

Dr. Brenner sighed as he sat on the bathroom floor across from Eleven, who was still sitting on the toilet, her clothes and diaper discarded on the gray tiled flooring. A half hour ago, she'd unexpectedly taken him aback by running off to the bathroom after he'd brought her back from a long session of tests and once he realized she wasn't trying to escape again, he could breathe relief, but he wasn't appreciating her insistence on staying in the restroom until she was able to relieve herself in the toilet.  

"The potty is a big step and I told you that you weren't ready yet," Brenner softly told her as she put her head in her hands and cried, unable to do what she intended. He gave her two more minutes and then stood up, lifting her off the toilet seat and putting her back into her diaper and sleeper. She whined and he shook his head at the time on his watch before he hefted her up into his arms. 

"Eleven, it's much past your bedtime. It's been a long day. Time to get you to sleep."

He took her back to her nursery, setting her down into the crib, and just as he was bringing up the bars into place, sharp thudding footsteps behind him caught his attention and he turned around to see a guard stop in the doorway. 

"Sir, I think you should come with me. It's urgent." 

Brenner frowned and Eleven whined again, reaching out a hand through the bars for him. He pushed her fingers back gently and shushed her.

"Shh, Eleven. Goodnight." He walked away, turning her night light on before shutting out the overhead lights, closing the door, and then fixing his attention on the guard. 

"Show me."

The man led him up a couple floors and into an interrogation room. Brenner was slightly surprised to his colleague handcuffed to a chair. 

"Martin, I - "

"Silence." Brenner looked to one of his men holding up a VHS tape in his hand.

"What's the meaning of this?" 

"He was caught in possession of this just outside at the checkpoint."

Brenner held out an open palm and took the tape, immediately checking the date on the side. He relaxed slightly when he realized the date wasn't from the elimination of Nina. 

9/3/84

If he was recalling correctly, that was the last time Will Byers had been in this facility and he'd had the altercation with the frantic mother. 

"Why did you have this?" he asked calmly of Dr. Owens.

"I guess I was just feeling sentimental," he sarcastically replied and Brenner nodded at a soldier who smacked Owens sharply in the face. 

"Who did you leak this to?" Brenner demanded, shaking the tape in front of his face.

"You think I would actually tell you?" 

A solider struck Owens in the stomach and he doubled over, wheezing profusely. 

"Don't make me have to fill out a accident report. I believe you have a wife waiting for you at home?" Brenner quietly threatened, leaning down to met Sam at eye level. 

"DON'T YOU DARE HURT HER!" Owens shouted angrily and subsequently took another blow to the face.

"Then you should start talking." 

Owens spat out blood, seething, and took a deep breath.

"Don't make me do this."

"Don't push me farther than you have already." Brenner stood up and nodded at a guard. The buzzing of the shock stick crackled in the small room and blue-white electricity erupted from the end.  

"ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT! GODDAMNIT, I'LL TELL YOU!" Owens yelled with a healthy dose of panic, flinching away and struggling in the chair. The guard backed away, switching it off, and Brenner smiled in satisfaction. Progress. 

Floors below them, there was also progress, albeit one of a different kind. The gate between the normal world and the one of the Upside Down was steadily growing, pulsing, as it expanded in a stretching, sinewy mass of colors reminiscent of volcanic lava. Silhouetted against it was a man outfitted in a thick hazmat suit and gloves coming up from inside an elevator made of metal grate that was rising upward. He held a small cage firmly in his grip with a life form violently bouncing around inside. The elevator stopped to a grinding halt and the man stepped off, entering into an established wide workspace area and he brought over the cage to a female scientist also dressed in protective clothing. 

"Got another specimen."

"Good work, Jones. Put him in tank number nine," the woman replied, indicating to a row of glass fish tanks lined up to their left. Jones brought the cage over and carefully removed the lid, dumping the creature no bigger than a hamster down into the glass enclosure. He slammed the lid down quickly as it gave a tiny roar and then flung its flexible body at the glass, leaving a slime trail stain. Jones shuddered under his suit. 

"Never fails to give me the creeps."

"They're relatively harmless at this stage," the woman reminded him. 

"Ha, right. That little bugger tried to rip my finger off in there. How many more of these things do we have to harvest?" Jones asked begrudgingly. 

"Until Dr. Brenner tells us to stop," she replied smoothly and Jones left the room, beginning to remove his thick protective gloves as he went to decontamination, grateful at least today's work was finally done. 

Chapter Text

October 3, 1984 9:00 AM

HAWKINS NATIONAL LABORATORY, HAWKINS INDIANA

"Calm down, Joyce. I told you, this is all part of the plan. I know what I'm doing," Hopper assured the anxious mother as they walked together with Will in between them up to the entrance of Hawkins Lab.  

"I hate this. What if they try to hurt Will again?" 

"The best thing you can do is keep him with you at all times. Whatever happens to me, don't follow or stay behind and try to save me."

"You're scaring me, Hop."

"Well, I never said it wasn't a scary plan," Hopper admitted. 

Will squeezed his mom's hand, not sure if he was really reassuring her or more himself, as all three of them went up to the security at the door. Hopper nodded at the guards as they were ushered inside and momentarily Dr. Owens came out to meet them. 

"Right this way," he told them and they followed him up a floor into an exam room. 

"Dr. Brenner will be with you in a moment," Owens told Will and Joyce with a forced smile and motioned to Hopper.

"How about a walk, Chief?" 

Hopper followed the doctor to an elevator, glancing at him and noticing his face was slightly swollen and he was sporting a black eye. 

"Something happen?" 

"Let's not talk about it," Owens replied shortly as the elevator dropped down a few floors and the doors dinged opened. They stepped out into a lower wing and Owens led the way down the empty hall before stopping at a door and punching in the code numbers on the keypad. The green light flashed and he pushed open the door and Hopper saw Eleven curled up in her crib, face to her teddy bear and he recognized it immediately, remembering seeing it briefly in the yellow nursery her mother had set up. So Becky was right after all. Eleven appeared fast asleep with the bear as Owens walked over to the crib and bent down. 

"Eleven, wake up," he spoke softly, voice low as he brought down the crib bars. Hopper kept glancing backwards in case any guards came in or were watching, but it was deviod of life behind them at the moment. Eleven slowly stirred and kept her eyes closed, mouthing on one of bear's ears. 

"She's a bit tired this morning," Owens said apologetically and Hopper nodded, also crouching down. Owens gently shook her shoulder and she half blinked awake, removing the teddy bear from her mouth, and rubbed at her face. 

"Papa..." Eleven murmured and Owens chuckled. 

"Nah, it's just me, kiddo. You have someone here to see you." 

Eleven's eyes grew wider at the sight of Hopper and he smiled at her with a nod.

"Long time no see, kid." 

She smiled slightly, leaning forward, and he pulled her into an all encompassing hug. 

Meanwhile, upstairs Dr. Brenner came walking into the exam room, causing Will to instinctly tense as he laid on the table while, as usual, a nurse was recording his vitals and affixing electrodes. Joyce was supplying the visual looks that could kill to Brenner as she clutched Will's hand, but the doctor completely ignored her. 

"How have you been feeling lately, William?" Brenner asked, eyes boring into the boy's as he pulled up a chair. 

Will's throat felt dryer than July and he struggled to get any words out. Brenner waited patiently, hands resting in his lap.  

"I... I'm o-okay." 

"I don't think you are, though." Brenner reached over and took a sheet of paper from the accompanying nurse. Joyce's eyes narrowed and Will swallowed.

"Your pulse is at 116 and you look a little peaky today."

"I-I'm nervous."

"Hmph. I heard you were dismissed early from school on September 30th."

Will wondered how he knew that, but he supposed it wasn't surprising and he should come to expect Dr. Brenner to know just about everything at this point. 

"I... I just felt under the weather. I think I'm getting a cold or the flu."

"Fever or chills?" Brenner asked, taking a thermometer and Will opened his mouth, letting the doctor stick it in and then he closed his mouth to wait thirty seconds before Brenner pulled out the instrument, tilting his head to check the reading. 

"No fever. A solid 98."  

"I'm a little cold, I guess," Will told him and he wanted to say that it was impossible for anyone to not feel chilled in a flimsy hospital gown and inside a creepy building that seemed to run the air conditioning all year round, but he kept his tongue behind his lips.  

"Have you ever thrown up at all?" Brenner made a note on the sheet from the nurse and looked back up at him seriously. Will paused slightly before answering. 

"No, not lately."

"Lately. You have before?" 

"I - well, yeah. Who hasn't? I had the flu once."

"This is more than the flu, though, isn't it?"

"Um, I - "

"Wait. What is this?" Joyce interrupted and Brenner finally seemed to notice her. 

"Your son has not been telling you the truth. He hasn't been well, have you?"

"I-I don't know. I don't know what you're talking about." Will's pulse began to spike further and Joyce squeezed his hand again. 

"Perhaps a visual aide will help." Brenner stood up, setting the paper aside and opening the door. 

"What are you doing?" Joyce began to get up, but the nurse put a firm hand down on her shoulder and Joyce jerked away from the pressuring touch.

"Hey!"

"Ma'am, please." 

"Stay away."

The nurse pursed her lips and stepped back half a step as a man rolled in a TV on a wheeled cart into the room. Brenner switched it on and security footage blinked to life on the screen. Will squinted at the grainy scene and then his stomach somersaulted when he recognized it was showing the time, months ago, when he went in the bathroom of Hawkins Lab and threw up the slug creature in the toilet. He never even saw an obvious camera in that bathroom and paranoia jolted him as his mind raced and he gripped the sides of the table he was laying on. Brenner almost smiled at his reaction. 

"Did you think no one would notice?" 

Will glanced at his mom and she appeared confused and a little frightened.

"But - what? That's Will. Why...? What's he - "

"Yes, what exactly are you doing, William?" Brenner interrupted her, pointing to the boy. His face paled.

"Um, I was throwing up. I didn't feel good."

"What did you throw up?" 

Will froze. It was impossible to tell exactly from the footage, but he considered if Brenner had the slug somewhere... or what was left of it after its journey through the sewer pipes... It was no use lying; he had to come clean on this one. 

"It was something from the Upside Down."

"What?!" Joyce's voice raised in pitch and alarm.  

"Something is right. It is clear that this ecosystem is still a part of you."

"That was months ago! I haven't coughed up any more," Will insisted honestly.  

"What are you talking about?!" Joyce inquired loudly, but Will had his attention fixed only on Dr. Brenner.

"I'm afraid the past has a way of catching up to you eventually." Brenner came forward, leaning over him and putting his hands on the boy's shoulders.

"You are sick, William. Very sick and it will get worse."

"No. I-I'm fine."

"You've been infected," Brenner whispered and Joyce audibly gasped.

"What do you mean?!" she exclaimed, panic starting to become a regular on her face. 

"Mom, don't listen to him! He's lying!" Will spoke loudly and his own words - and the sudden pure anger he felt coursing through him - surprised him. Brenner kept his grip on his shoulders.  

"I know you are afraid. But I want to help you. We can help you here."

A sudden knock at the door distracted Brenner and he turned around with annoyance to see a guard standing in wait.  

"Sir? I hate to interrupt, but Dr. Owens needs you."

Brenner let go of Will after a few seconds and started to leave.

"Keep an eye on both of them," he ordered to the nurse as the door snapped shut behind him. He followed the guard down to a lower floor and strode forward, spotting familiar figures up ahead; his colleague was with Chief Hopper standing right outside of Eleven's nursery. Brenner's mouth tightened and anger began to seep up into his face. 

"What are doing?" he demanded. 

"We need to talk," Owens told him sincerely. 

"I'm busy. Why are you here?" 

Hopper came forward up to the doctor and smiled under his bushy beard. Brenner eyed him suspiciously and leaned back slightly. 

"Busy, huh?" Hopper gruffly asked.  

"Yes, I was with the Byers. Sam, are you going to tell me why you are down here with this man?" Brenner diverted his eyes from Hopper, looking past him to Owens. 

"We wanted to discuss - "

"I'll give ya busy," Hopper muttered and suddenly his arm came up, swinging around, and his meaty fist collided with Brenner's face, clocking him smartly, and he staggered backward with a yell. The guard reached for his radio, but Hopper reached over and ripped it right out of his uniform and then grabbed the man's shirt collar, throwing him to the ground. He struggled to get back up and Hopper kicked him in the face as Brenner lunged towards the Chief, one hand holding his head. Hopper spun around and decked him again, this time knocking him out cold to the floor. The guard was still conscious on the floor, bleeding from the mouth, and about to try shouting for backup, but another hit to his head took care of that. Hopper grunted as he stooped down and took ahold of Brenner's ankles and he nodded over at Owens. 

"Let's get him in the room."

"Are you crazy?! And I never said to use physical force! You've jeopardized everything! You've made a huge mistake!" Owens proclaimed to Hopper.  

"Plans change. Now, are you gonna help or not?"

"This wasn't the plan! This wasn't ANY plan!" Owens exclaimed as they both dragged Brenner's body across the floor into Eleven's room.

"Papa?!" 

She stared in shock as the two men dropped Brenner down next to her crib.

"Eleven, just - pretend you're not seeing this!" Owens told her frantically as Hopper straighted up, catching his breath, before leaning over and looping his arms around the girl to pick her up.

"I'm just sick of talking, Doc. That's your specialty. Now, how much leverage do you have at this place? Can you tell the guards to stand down?" Hopper asked.

"I can, but - " 

"Then do it. Buy us some time if you have to. C'mon." Hopper walked out of the room with Eleven slung over his shoulder, and Owens shut the door behind them before they started down the hall to the elevator. Owens tapped the buttons and they steadily rose back up. Eleven was beginning to cry and Hopper shushed her, rubbing her back as Owens instinctively flexed for the stress ball in his pocket.

"It'll be okay, kiddo. I don't know how exactly because Pops here is acting a little crazy and I didn't expect to be dragging a man's body today, but you know, sometimes life throws you curve balls and this guy right here is one hell of a fastball and I shouldn't be doing this and..." Owens rambled nervously until the elevator finally opened. Hopper went forward, scanning the hallways and Owens hurried after him as they turned a corner. A guard spotted them and Hopper swore, swerving around on his feet into a U-turn, but it didn't take long for the alarms to sound and then a deluge of guards to surround them from all sides in the hallway. Owens paused and then firmly spoke.

"Stand down, men." 

They didn't. 

"Where's Dr. Brenner?" one of the men asked suspiciously. 

"You know, I think he was... Oh, that's him coming right now," Owens replied, raising an arm up and looking through a gap in the guards down the (empty) hallway. Several head's followed his and Hopper took that as the signal to run and run he did, shoving aside a guard while keeping a tight hold on Eleven, as he bolted for the entrance with yells and thundering footfalls trailing behind him. Eleven shrieked as Hopper body slammed into two guards at the door and, remarkably, they made it out to the parking lot and Hopper went jogging to his Chevy. He yanked open the door and set El down in the passenger seat while a flood of guards began pouring out the doors of HNL. Hopper began to close the door, but Eleven sobbing and her struggling against the door made him pause.

"What're doing, kid?!" 

"No, I want - I want," Eleven choked out, shoving against the window.  

"Want what, kid? We gotta go!" 

"Teddy bear!" she cried, tears streaming down her cheeks. 

Hopper groaned.

"No... No, I'm sorry. I'll have to find ya another one. Stay put, we're going!" He began to use all of his strength to slam the door.  

"NO!" El screamed and Hopper felt himself getting flung back as the truck door banged open right off its hinges, flying out and landing with a crash to the concrete. Eleven scooted out of the truck and onto the pavement, running awkwardly in her booties straight back to the entrance Hawkins Lab. Hopper swore loudly and struggled to his feet.  

"EL, DON'T! NO!" he yelled after her, but it was too late.

Fifty guards surrounded them, aiming guns at both Hopper and Eleven. She dropped to her knees and Hopper put his arms up in surrender. Dr. Owens then came rushing out of the doors, looking extremely concerned and displeased.

"Stop, that's enough!" he shouted at the guards and they gradually lowered their weapons. Hopper also dropped his hands and heaved in a breath. 

"Doc, let us go."

Owens' expression was one of confliction and pain as he clenched his teeth, quickly glancing away and then back to Hopper. He sighed in resignation. 

"No, I'm sorry, Chief. Not like this. Not this time." 

Hopper had no words and all the fight drained out of him as he let the guards detain him. Eleven was pulled to her feet by two men and at the same moment, Joyce and Will came running out and the guards began to desend on them, too. 

"Let them go!" Owens yelled and the guards hesitated. 

"Let her and the boy go!"

The guards acquiesced and Joyce and Will ran straight to Hopper. He barely saw them, his eyes still on El now being escorted back inside Hawkins Lab by Owens and the whole host of security. She briefly glanced back at him with a red, blotchy face and he swore he saw the apology written in her eyes. 

Damnit.

11:00 AM

"Well, I'd say both of you had quite a morning," Owens told Brenner and Eleven, who were both seated on the cot back in her room, in front of him with exhaustion picking at his tone. Brenner had come to only a half hour ago and was presently holding a cold pack to his swelling face while Eleven was rocking a little, sniffling and clutching her precious teddy bear tightly to her chest. Once Owens had figured out what she had been blubbering for as she was taken back in, and after talking to the guards on the scene, the picture was beginning to make sense. 

"What happened was completely unacceptable. You are going to regret letting that man anywhere near her," Brenner chastised and Eleven buried her face again in the stuffed animal. 

"Now hold your war horses, Martin. I think you should know that this girl voluntarily came back," Owens confided and Brenner looked suspicious.

"What do you mean?" 

"While you were unconscious -  which by the way, I did NOT plan, that was all unexpectedly sprung on by the Chief, he was the only one that took Eleven to the parking lot - and this should be very telling to you, she telekinetically ripped off the door to the Chief's truck and came running back to the building. All by herself. She chose to come back to this place. To me, to you, to us. Think about that," Owens explained and Brenner stared at him in wonder. He turned to Eleven sitting beside him. 

"Did you?" 

She peeked up from her teddy bear and nodded quickly.

"Eleven..." His voice almost had warning to it and she held her breath in fear, but then his voice broke into pride. 

"I'm so very proud of you. Papa's proud," Brenner lowered the ice from his face and reached over, pulling her and the teddy bear into him. Owens watched with mixed emotions. He purposely left out the real reason, knowing that feeding Brenner's ego was safer than the truth and, as Hopper had said, would buy him time from getting punished. Thank God the cameras in the parking lot didn't pick up audio. 

"Would you like sweet potatoes for dinner tonight? I think you would. Yes, you would..." Brenner was cooing to Eleven, giving her nose a light tap. Owens glanced between them with raised eyebrows.

"So what are you going to do about the Chief and the Byers?" he asked urgently, diverting the subject. Brenner didn't reply for a few moments.

"It's not a matter of what I'm going to do. It's what you are going to do."

"Me? Oh, no. Ms. Byers and Will had no part in escaping Eleven. Look, I'll take responsibility for what happened with the Chief." 

"That's not what I'm thinking about."

"Then please tell me what is going on in that mind of yours! I'm not psychic, Martin."

"Remember what we discussed in our recent meetings?"

"About - " Owens stopped with a look at Eleven.

"Maybe we should discuss this later."

"No, we're going to discuss it now. It's not about Eleven. It's your patient and I think you should be the one to give the order." 

Owens was processing this and his eyes widened in realization and he gripped again at the stress ball in his pocket. 

"What if I don't do this?"

"Then you'll find yourself out of any job and wishing I had never heard of the name William Byers."

Eleven looked fearfully at Papa and back at Owens, who was silently radiating the same amount of fright she was beginning to feel for Will. 

2:00 PM

BYERS HOUSE, HAWKINS INDIANA

Will was outside, washing and cleaning up his bike. Mom was in the house with Jonathan, who was trying to calm her down. He could hear their raised voices from here as he squeezed the sponge dripping soapy suds and lathered the bars of his bike, thinking about what Brenner had said to him back at the Lab about being infected by the Upside Down. Maybe it was true and no wonder everyone looked at him like he was a freak. He felt like he was diseased and wearing his innards outside his skin. 

Maybe he really was becoming a zombie.

As he thought about this, at first he ignored the faint sound, as he was used to hearing the occasional overhead airplane or vehicle of nearby traffic, but this noise was becoming louder and louder. The front door opened and Joyce stepped out, staring in fear past him at an encroaching sight.

"WILL, COME INSIDE NOW!" she screamed and Will felt a shiver jiggle up to his collarbone and he stood up, letting the sponge drop from his wet fingers with a flop to the ground. His head turned to see many government cars crunching over gravel, barreling right towards them. 

"MOM!" he yelled as the parade of sedans rolled up to the house, parking off into the dirt and grass. Several men jumped out with guns at the ready and Will ran for the door, screaming for Joyce, but a sharp shot to the neck stunned him and a second later he found himself collapsing to the ground. Mom was still screaming and he vaguely saw her being wrestled away from the house, yelling and kicking as his head slumped to the grass. Jonathan's shoes ran past his face and a minute later he dully heard the BLAM of a rifle shot and then again. Another shot sounded, not quite as loud, and he knew it must've been from a pistol or handgun. Another bang from the rifle and two more from the other. He wanted to move, to scream again, to holler for help, but Will couldn't move even a finger and his mind was sluggishly sloshing to a stop as everyone around him became just a very unfocused scene of blurry pant legs, shoes, and motioning hands and arms...

And then his brain buckled to blackness. 

Chapter Text

October 4, 1984 6:00 AM

HAWKINS NATIONAL LABORATORY, HAWKINS INDIANA

Will woke up many, many hours later in a blue and white snowflake-patterned hospital gown. His neck was the first awareness he had, for it was still sore from the injection site as he tried to sit up, propping himself up uneasily on the cot, and blinking against the oppressive bright whiteness. Rubbing his eyes and adjusting to seeing again, he took in his bleak surroundings; a small four-walled room, completely windowless with blank walls except for a security camera with a red recording light mounted in the corner. The whole space was cold enough to make him shiver. Will pushed the thin cream colored blanket off his body and swung his legs over onto the cold tiled floor. It stung his bare feet as he slowly stood up to face the door. He walked to it, trying the handle to find it was unsurprisingly locked, but that didn't stop him from banging on the door loudly.

"HELLO?! MOM?! MOM?! DR. OWENS?!" he shouted and then waited for any noise of footsteps. Nothing. Will turned around back to the cot and lifted a hand up to cover the goosebumps he was starting to feel being brought up to light and he paused as soon as his fingers touched his neck. His fingers kept grasping for the locks of hair, but it was missing... all he felt there was a slight bristly stubble. Frantically, Will felt upwards for the familiar flop of hair on his forehead, but wasn't any to displace... his hand went smoothing right over very short, fuzzy, buzz cut hair... 

Oh, no.

"Shit," Will breathed, taking a seat on the cot to stop his legs from shaking. The reality collided with him and panicked thoughts ran circles of scenarios around his brain, but one came up taller than the rest.

Get to Mom. Get to Mom. Get to Mom. 

But... how? 

He was stuck in a white box with nothing but a locked door, a cot, a security camera, and his own body loosely covered in a hospital gown. Will began to cry because it was all he could think of to do at the moment and his racking sobs rang throughout the room. 

Shit. He was screwed.

9:00 AM

Dr. Brenner pulled up a chair at the head of the long table and pressed his black tie against his chest. Dr. Owens was at the other end and seated flanking the sides were several scientists and doctors, all here for a staff meeting in the conference room of HNL. Brenner grabbed a neatly stacked small pile of papers next to him and handed them to the man off to his right. 

"Pass these around," he instructed. 

"This is the treatment plan for William Byers," Brenner explained as the paperwork shuffled around, making its way to Owens, who glanced at the front page, and his face immediately went to shock and anger the further he pursued it.

"Treatment? Martin, this isn't a treatment! Jesus Christ, do all of you see this?!" Owens exclaimed, addressing to the others at the table as they too flipped through the pages and a few of them procured slight frowns, others nonplussed, and a couple of men were unemotional; it was just another job to them, but Owens stood up, crumpling the papers in his hands.

"This is an outline for dissection. You want to DISSECT the kid. And so how exactly do you plan to kill him, huh? Lethal injection? Fatally high electroshock? Gunshot? Throw him to those monsters and see what's left to pick through?"   

"Don't be ridiculous, dissection is the last step," Brenner answered flatly. 

"Then why is it on the first page?" 

Brenner chose to ignore that obvious point and he too stood up from his chair, pointing a finger down at his colleague. 

"You can't keep going behind my back, Sam. I had to take action and get the boy sooner or later."

"I never agreed to this."

"Really? But remember, you did agree months ago when you took this job to eventually acquire him if his condition persisted."

"Well, yes, but I'm regretting it now," Owens admitted, appearing guilty and infuriated.

"Don't. There is no place for regret here."

"Why didn't you consult with me beforehand on this? You never told me you were planning to cut him open! HE'S MY PATIENT, NOT A CADAVER! HAVEN'T YOU DONE ENOUGH?!" Owens yelled, unable to control himself, tossing the wadded papers to the table. The others at the table glanced at each other with worry. 

"How about you consider this the consequence for all your interfering you've been doing, especially with my subject," Brenner replied. 

"I was just trying to HELP Eleven and Will. I never wanted either child to get hurt."

"Maybe you should have thought about that before you agreed to work with me. Perhaps you should've been briefed on my general methods," Brenner told him with an air of nonchalance. 

"Yeah, your unethical methods. You know what? You DISGUST me, Martin. You really do. You're a disgrace to the scientific community at large and I'm not sure you ever took the Hippocratic Oath at all."

Brenner looked down at the table and unnecessarily traced the wood grain with his fingers, wishing he could deflect the words from having been said. Owens, exasperated, rubbed his forehead and left the table, walking over to stand at the windows where faint morning sunlight was fluttering through the blinds, creating yellow streaks on his weary face.  

"What about his schooling?" Owens asked in a calmer voice, coming to the depressing conclusion that his words of protest were wasted on his colleague; he might as well keep playing the game for now.  

"I've already arranged an extended leave of absence and his mother is welcome to stay here as long as she'd like. The Chief was sent home last night."

"I want Ms. Byers taken home today and looked after," Owens decided firmly. 

"That's fine."

"And what about his friends? You expect them to accept the fact that he is imprisoned here with no explanation?" 

"We'll think of something, we always do. And this isn't a prison, you should know that."

"Then why does it sure feel like it is? You know it is. I don't need to list all the reasons."

"I don't need to hear them." 

Owens shook his head and laughed humorlessly. 

"You're really something." 

Brenner ignored him again and spoke to the rest of the group, none of whom were able to even get a word in to their superiors, and he promptly dismissed them without further ado. Owens waited, still at the windows, as the staff gathered their copies of the paperwork and began to file out. When the last scientist left and the door closed shut behind him, Brenner went over to Owens. His colleague turned to him, forehead creased in genuine concern. 

"You can't do this. I know what you want to do, but you can't subject him to the specimens."

"I will," Brenner softly said. He pushed aside the blinds to the windows and scowled at the sunlight now streaming into the room. It felt unnatural to him and he couldn't remember the last time he'd even seen the sun. 

"You really think you'll find all the answers in a boy's open body?" 

"No. But I want to find out why he was the first victim and how his body was affected by that environment. He could be crucial." 

"I thought Eleven was your pride and joy. Isn't she more worth our resources?"

"She is. Deeply so." Brenner sighed heavily before continuing. 

"Eleven is all I have left in my care. My only daughter..." He glanced away, feeling the sting of emotion. Owens kept silent.  

"All these years and years of research... I've spent half my working life at this building. I want this place to be my legacy," Brenner quietly said, as both men stared out the glass at the surrounding trees.

"We had an incredible breakthrough last year, a humanity altering discovery. The boy is our prototype to what happens to the human body under these conditions and how he was able to survive..." Brenner trailed off.  

"It sounded like he was just lucky. The creature - and that atmosphere - almost killed him and if your men and the Chief hadn't got to him in time, that kid would've been a goner."

"But what if others, like him, could survive?" 

"Then I guess we better find out. But we do it more ethically, that's all I'm saying."  

"I'll consider your position," Brenner stated, closing the conversation, and letting go of the blinds before turning away. He left the conference room and went straight to the holding room of the boy. He didn't bother to knock and unlocked the door. Will sat up from the cot and recoiled away as soon as he saw Brenner, his face still red and splotchy from tears. Brenner slathered on sympathy and projected a fatherly demeanor as he came towards the boy and lowered himself down on the cot. The mattress sank with his weight and Will scrunched up against the wall, watching him in fear. Brenner cocked his head and smiled tenderly. He didn't know the boy well, but he knew that the father wasn't present in his life. Perhaps this lack of paternity made him subconsciously yearn for a father and Brenner could use this to his advantage. 

"I'm sorry. I know this is very upsetting for you," Brenner spoke gently, reaching out for his face. Will flinched away, closing his eyes. Unlike Eleven, who was quite conditioned to every gesture and touch of affection he gave her from birth onward, this boy hardly knew him. Like an animal, Brenner knew he had to earn his trust before he could break the boy further, so he dropped his hand and leaned back. 

"Are you hungry?" 

"No."

"How about some water, hmm?" Brenner got to his feet and left the room, closing the door behind him in case the boy tried to escape, and went to fill up a glass of cold water. He came back with it in his hand and sat down again, gently handing it over. Will took a sip and shuddered.

"I'm sorry we don't have anything warmer." 

Will cupped the glass in his lap and stared down at his gown.

"Where's my mom?" 

"We've had to keep her sedated, but she's fine." 

"Where is Dr. Owens?" 

"He'll come by to see you soon, don't worry."

"What are you going to do to me?" Will quietly asked and Brenner shifted slightly.

"It's for your own safely and the safety of Hawkins."

"I don't want to hurt anybody."

"I know that, but you have been harboring creatures that will do harm."

"What?" 

"You ejected an infantile stage of the creature that was accidentally released last year. It's miraculous, actually, that your body was able to host such an organism for a period of time without ill effects on it."

"A baby Demogorgon?" Will gasped.

"Demogorgon? Is that what you call it?" Brenner smiled slightly.

"It's what my friends call it and I don't want that inside me."

"Of course not."

"I... I don't have any more inside me, do I?" Will asked timidly. 

"No, not that we were able to pick up on the X-rays."

Will didn't say anything for a moment. He wondered what else they had done to him while he had been unconscious, like shave his head. He quickly checked his wrist for a tattoo like Eleven had, but there wasn't one. He sighed in relief and adjusted his gown over his legs. 

"How long do I have to be here?" 

Brenner didn't answer right away. 

"As long as it takes," he cryptically replied, standing up to leave. 

"Wait! What do you mean?! What about my life? I need to see my mom, my brother, my friends! You can't keep me here! PLEASE!" Will's voice raised and shook as the door swung closed and he was left, once again, utterly alone. 

6:00  PM

"I want to see my brother!" Jonathan yelled at the front desk with Nancy Wheeler standing beside him. 

"What is this? Will and his mother have been missing all day. Jonathan told me they were attacked and taken yesterday afternoon. We need to know the truth and I know it all goes back to this place, so tell us what the hell is going on!" she demanded angrily. 

"Sorry, visiting hours are over for the day," the receptionist replied shortly in a clipped tone and Jonathan glared at her.

"Screw this." He took off running out of the lobby towards the hallway with Nancy at his heels.

"Hey! Get back here, you kids!" The receptionist swiveled around in her chair and a few guards started after them. 

Jonathan and Nancy ran down the hall until they were both roughly apprehended from behind by the guards. Nancy kicked one of them in the shin and swung a fist at another, but it had little effect. They were much too strong for them.

"Alright, that's enough." Dr. Owens walked up to the scene, frowning at the men as they released the two teenagers and they both stumbled forward. 

"Who the hell are you?!" Jonathan spat, regaining his balance. 

"I'm the attending physician for your brother. Care to come with me?" 

Jonathan and Nancy, breathless, exchanged apprehensive looks, but followed the doctor down the hall. He led them to an elevator and they went down to the lowest floor where the main operation was.

"What is this?" Jonathan gasped as they walked onto a platform overlooking the scene of men in hazmat suits and several scientists with clipboards milling around.

"This right here is the reason why we've been, well, a little forceful lately."

"What the hell are those?" Nancy gasped, pointing down to the tanks of creatures and Owens shifted, appearing uncomfortable.

"Those are our samples, our test subjects. We've been subjecting then to all kinds of stimuli and environments to test their durability. Just between us, we have found out that they do have a weakness when it comes to fire."

"God, you men are all the same. You find new lifeforms and want to subjugate them, all for your own scientific gain, never caring about the well being of the experiments themselves or the danger! Those things look dangerous and if they came from where I think they did, then they definitely are," Nancy exclaimed.  

"Hey, now before you paint me as the bad guy and mad scientist here, you need to understand."

"Understand? What's there to understand? That kidnapping my brother and my mom, torturing a girl, and playing around with those things is all good in the name of science?" Jonathan asked. 

"I think what we have here is a difference in perspective. Put yourself for a moment in my shoes, with my knowledge and background."

"That's kinda hard to do when we barely know you at all," Nancy told him. Owens appeared quite frustrated and was losing his patience. 

"Look, I'm very sorry about Will. I'm doing everything in my power to keep him unharmed and to contain this," Owens exclaimed, gesturing widely to the encroaching mass of vines with its large portal to the Upside Down. 

"It looks very contained. Sure," Nancy commented sarcastically and Owens grimaced. Jonathan stepped in front of Nancy and faced the doctor. 

"WHY did you take my brother?" 

"We believe he may be our only recourse and a key to what we've discovered down here." 

"What about Eleven? Isn't she more important?" Nancy asked in confusion as Jonathan scowled. 

"Ah, well, that's a different story. We're more interested in trying to understand why a boy, who is a typical, average - "

"If you know anything about Will, he's not exactly average," Jonathan interjected.

" - American boy..." Owens continued, ignoring him.

"... that has no detectable extrasensory, psychic abilities was the first one taken and brought to this other dimension, and why it seemingly still has its effects on him. I'm afraid your brother is our prototype. He is the first to survive this - this virus, if you will."  

"That THIS LAB caused in the first place!" Nancy said loudly and a few heads turned up their way. Owens waved a hand at the scientists, forcing a smile, and then steering the two teens towards the exit. 

"All I can say is don't pin all your blame on me," he finished as they left.

"But YOU'RE the one just letting it happen!" Jonathan yelled as he and Nancy followed Owens. The doctor stopped abruptly in the middle of the hall and turned to them.

"What do you want? To erase everything that happened? To wish that this other environment wasn't ever discovered? Believe me, I wish so too, it would make my job a lot easier, and I don't want innocent people to get hurt or killed, but we're up against a very real threat. This dimension is not going away anytime soon and can you imagine if it spreads out further, perhaps out of this town and across the country? There is a very real possibility that someone, say our foreign enemies, could get a hold of it and we are already at the door of war. Our very world could be at stake if we don't investigate this." 

There was a very pregnant pause from all three of them as they walked back to the elevator. Jonathan sighed and Nancy reached over, touching his hand. His eyes jumped to hers in question and she nodded with a firm smile, discreetly resting her fingers on the pocket of her jeans and he remembered she had brought her small tape recorder with her. Jonathan glanced quickly back at her and she squeezed his hand. He looked back to Dr. Owens.  

"So where is he? Take us to Will," Jonathan demanded as they rode upwards. 

"Alright, but only for a few minutes. I don't want the two of you being exposed to him for too long."

"My brother's not contagious!" Jonathan exclaimed angrily and Owens shrugged.

"There's no evidence that suggests he isn't."

"Goddamnit, I can't believe this," Jonathan mumbled as the elevator doors opened and they walked down a hall. Owens stopped at a door and opened it, revealing Will inside. He sat up in shock.

"Jonathan?!" he cried out, jumping off the cot, and running to hug his brother. Nancy hung back, her hand to her mouth in upset as she noticed Will's shaven hair. 

"Was that really necessary?" she hissed at Owens and he frowned, shaking his head.

"Not my idea."

"Will, it's gonna be okay. What'd you think, I wouldn't come back for you? It's okay, it's alright. I'm gonna find a way to get you out, okay? Stay strong and we're gonna help you somehow," Jonathan murmured to him, embracing him and rubbing his very short hair. 

"How do you like my new haircut?" Will tried to joke, but his voice cracked and his eyes stung with more tears. Jonathan swallowed.

"It's not as bad as you think," he consoled with a pained tone. 

"The truth."

"Okay, you look like crap," Jonathan told him with a weak laugh and Will smiled, pressing his face to his brother's chest. 

"Where's Ms. Byers?" Nancy asked, turning to Dr. Owens and he nodded.

"She's just down the hall. We've been keeping her sedated, but it should be wearing off by now." 

"Mom?!" Will exclaimed, detaching himself from Jonathan and stepping forward, but Owens held up a hand. 

"I'm afraid you're going to have to stay here, Sir Will. I promise your mother is fine and safe. She's going home with your brother in a few minutes." 

"Let me see her!" Will shouted as Owens glanced back at a guard stationed in the hallway and motioned to Jonathan and Nancy. The man came foward and grabbed Jonathan roughly, pinning his arms behind his back.   

"GET OFF ME!" Jonathan screamed as he was wrestled away from Will. Nancy swung a fist at the guard, but he ducked and another guard came rushing in to grab Nancy. 

"Take them to Joyce Byers and see them all out. Don't hurt them!" Owens ordered as Jonathan and Nancy were dragged away down the hall. Will screamed for them and his mom while Owens stepped inside Will's room, quickly shutting the door behind him and pressing his back to it as Will flung himself towards him. He pummeled his body at the doctor and began to pound his fists against Owens. 

"WILL! WILL! Will, stop! Stop." Owens tried to pry his hands away, but Will continued to attack him.  

"HOW COULD YOU? HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?!" he screamed and for once Owens couldn't give an answer as he looked down at the raging, sobbing boy in front of him. Out of instinct, perhaps due to having dealt with a younger son himself once, he grabbed and tightly embraced Will, locking him in a bear hug so he couldn't move any further. Slowly, his heaving gasps and sobs subsided as Owens held him in place. After a couple minutes, Owens let go and led Will back to the cot where he sat down, vigorously rubbing his face, and he was beginning to feel embarrassed. He felt like he was a toddler again, throwing a fit over having to go to the doctor's for a shot and then accidentally dropping the sticker he was rewarded with in the crack between the seats in the car on the ride back home, thus causing another mini meltdown. His face burned in humiliation as Owens stood uncomfortably in front of him. 

"I'll get you some tissues," he offered kindly and left the room for a minute as Will took a few deep breaths. Owens entered with a box of tissues and came over to him, holding it out and Will accepted. He wiped at his eyes and blew his nose while Owens stood back. 

"Will?" he asked cautiously and Will sniffed. 

"What?" 

"I'm sending some people out to get some items from home to make this experience a little more tolerable for you. Is there anything that you would really like?"

Will thought for a moment.

"I just want my mom. I only want my family and my friends."

"Of course. I'm going to arrange for a couple visits a week from your mom and brother, and yes, your friends too if you'd like, but they all have to be on their best behavior. And don't worry about school, we've already taken care of that. No homework, no assignments while you're here. That's all gone away," Owens explained, lifting his voice a bit at the end in an effort to make a silver lining out of a very dark cloud. Will wasn't relieved, though. What a way to get out of going to school. 

"Can I get anything else at the moment for you? You must be working up an appetite with all this activity."

Will shook his head no and Owens began to leave, but paused with a hand on the door. 

"I know it doesn't look like it at the moment, but I'm on your side. You've got to trust me." 

Will didn't reply and Owens eventually shut the door and it locked with a click. Will laid down on his back on the cot and put his hands behind his head, staring at the blank ceiling with only one thought now on a constant loop around his brain. 

Why me?

Chapter Text

October 5, 1984 6:00 PM

WHEELER HOUSE, HAWKINS INDIANA

Mike hurried past his mom talking quietly on the phone in the kitchen and down towards the basement, walkie-talkie pressed in his palm. He'd been trying to contact Will all last night and today, but his friend wasn't answering at all and he hadn't been at school either. He knew Will sometimes had trouble getting reception where he lived, but this was unlike him to not respond to even a 'code red'. Mike had tried Dustin and Lucas too, but they also couldn't get through and he was becoming extremely worried.

"MICHAEL!" Mrs. Karen Wheeler suddenly yelled and he froze at the top of the stairs, gritting his teeth. 

"MOM, WHAT?!" Mike hollered back. 

"Can you come here a minute? I need to talk to you!" She didn't sound happy at all and he wondered if she found out about... well, it could be just about anything at this point.  

"Um, I'm kinda busy!" he called back a little nervously. 

"I need you to come in the kitchen right now. Please. It's serious." Her voice broke a little at the end and Mike frowned, now concerned. The last time he heard her voice sound like this was when his grandmother had died. She had been on the phone... Oh, shit, maybe it was Nana! Mike turned around and ran into the kitchen, nearly bumping into his mom at the now hung-up phone. Her eyes were watering and she quickly went to the fridge, pulling out the milk carton and pouring a glass full before setting it down in front of him on the table. She pulled up a chair and clasped her hands together. Mike stared at her, his worry increasing by the minute. 

"Mom, what's going on...?" 

She took a deep breath and glanced away before pushing the glass of milk towards him. He pushed it right back at her. 

"Mom, what's wrong?" he asked, exasperated, wanting her to just say whatever it was. 

"It's about... Oh honey, it's about your friend Will."

Mike sprang up from his seat as though he'd been shocked and accidentally knocked over the milk. It spilled all over the table, dripping onto the flooring as Karen gasped.

"MIKE!" she shouted, grabbing for a dishtowel and mopping it up.

"WHAT'S WRONG WITH WILL?!" he yelled in panic.

"Keep your voice down!" she told him angrily as a snorting sound came from the other room. Karen glanced up. 

"Where's your father?" 

"He was watching TV and fell asleep in his chair," Mike answered. Sadly, that was a regular occurrence on most weeknights. Mom stood up and peered out into the living room to see her snoring husband still passed out in the La-Z-Boy.

"I don't want to wake him up," she fretted and Mike shook his head. 

"Mom, if there was a freight train rolling past down the street, Dad wouldn't hear it." 

"Don't talk like that about your father," she scolded, but slightly smiled, and sat back down. She wiped at her eyes. 

"So what happened? What's going on with Will? I've been trying to get him to answer on the walkie-talkie, but I can't get anything and Dustin and Lucas can't either and - "

"Mike, listen to me," Karen interrupted sharply and Mike stared at her.

"I just spoke with Joyce Byers on the phone. She told me Will is in the hospital."

"The hospital?" 

"Yes. Well, okay, it's not the general hospital, but the government subsidized one on the edge of town."

"Hawkins Lab?" Mike asked in disbelief. He couldn't believe Mom of all people was talking about this. 

"I don't know what it's called officially, but what matters is that Will is there because he's very sick. Joyce told me... Oh, Mike... she told me he has cancer. She just got the results yesterday. He has developed a brain tumor and he's under the care of specialists there. I don't know how she's able to afford the treatment, she must have some insurance..." Karen trailed off with a frown and in thought, but Mike rolled his eyes. Cancer? That definitely sounded like a total cover-up. Karen looked aghast at his reaction.

"Michael! This is very serious! Remember how much pain your grandma was in? This is not something to take lightly or laugh off." Now she looked really angry, so Mike quickly changed his face to a grave and dire expression. 

"I'm sorry, I just find it hard to believe," he mumbled and Mom reached over, taking his hand. 

"Honey, I know it's hard to accept. But I'm sure the doctors are doing their very best. I don't know how far along the cancer is, but Will wasn't feeling good lately and he collapsed at home. He has to stay in the hospital for the time being until they can beat this thing into remission. If they can." Karen swallowed and now the tears were starting to flow down her cheeks. 

Mike didn't know what to say. He was 99% sure that Will didn't have cancer and it was just a cover-up, but that worried him even more because that meant whatever they were likely covering up had to be really bad. Like Upside Down bad. Mike jumped to his feet, clutching his walkie-talkie. 

"I gotta go." 

"No, Mike, sit down and listen. Joyce sounded very upset on the phone and she's staying at home with Jonathan, but she did say they're accepting limited visitors, so I'm taking you to the hospital in an hour from now. I need to get ready, put Holly to bed, and leave a note for Ted. Now, go get your jacket and wait for me. Don't you dare go taking off anywhere without me."

"What about Dustin and Lucas?" 

"I'll talk to the parents tomorrow and we'll see if we can get a group together to go after school tomorrow, okay? I don't want everyone in town knowing about this. Joyce has been through enough already and I don't want to put more stress on her shoulders. I think I'll make her a casserole tomorrow, too," Karen added more to herself than him, and walked out of the kitchen. Mike slowly sat back down and stared at the walkie-talkie.

Everything just got way more complicated. 

7:00 PM

HAWKINS NATIONAL LABORATORY

"Mom, it's okay. You can wait here," Mike pleaded to her as she parked the car after they had been cleared for entry at the checkpoint. She quickly checked her face in the rear-view mirror and patted her curly hair. 

"No, I'm not letting you go in alone."

"Please?" 

"Micheal, we've been over this. I know for some reason, you're mortified to be seen in public with me, but there's no way I'm letting my thirteen year old son go into a huge government complex to see his sick friend alone." 

"Fine," Mike snapped, opening the door, shutting it hard behind him, and taking off to the entrance of Hawkins Lab. Little did she know, he was actually trying to protect her because he didn't want her involved and finding out everything about these people, who were clearly capable of torture. She didn't need to get hurt, too. She couldn't get hurt. 

"Mike, wait!" Karen called after him anxiously as the guards held open the doors and let them in. Karen stared around in awe at the size of the place and once she was inside, she pulled her jacket tighter around her body as the air conditioning hit. It wasn't even 50 degrees outside.  

"Bit chilly in here, isn't it?" 

"Yeah, I think it's always like that," Mike replied offhandedly and Karen raised her eyebrows. 

"You've never been here before."

"Um, hospitals are usually cold?" He hurried to the receptionist desk and Karen joined him, smiling at the unsmiling woman at the desk.

"Hi, my son and I are here to see a patient. My name is Karen Wheeler and the patient is Will Byers." 

The receptionist nodded and gestured over to a couple chairs that were haphazardly placed by a wall. 

"Just take a seat and wait a minute, Mrs. Wheeler." 

Karen seemed puzzled at the almost familiarity, but did as told and sat down with a fidgeting Mike. A few minutes later, a gray haired older man came down the hallway with a nurse beside him. Karen stood up and he smiled at her and Mike. 

"Hello, I'm Dr. Sam Owens. I'm the primary physician for Will," he spoke in a cheery voice and extended a hand to her. She shook it and her face relaxed at his seemingly nice demeanor.

"Karen Wheeler. It's very nice to meet you. I'm a friend of Joyce Byers and my son is Will's best friend. We've been so worried and we had to come over to see how he's doing."

"Right, of course. Well, I can assure you that Will is in very good hands here. He has some of the state's finest in medical care looking after him. In fact, it's better than any local hospital. There's no worry when it comes to the expertise and professionalism of our staff." 

"Oh, that's so reassuring to know," Karen beamed and nodded. Mike, however, wanted to roll his eyes again; she really had no idea. As Owens kept talking and began to herd her back to the front desk, the nurse beckoned to Mike and he quickly slipped from Mom's side. 

"So where is he?" Mike demanded of the nurse as soon as they went walking into the hallway to the elevator. 

"I need you to stay calm," she told him as they went down a couple levels. 

"He's my best friend and I really care about him. So what did you guys do? I bet he doesn't have cancer, does he?" 

The nurse shook her head as the elevator ground to a stop and the doors slid aside. 

"No, I suppose there's no sense in lying to a smart boy like yourself. Mr. Byers has a different kind of sickness, one that we're still trying to figure out. He has dispelled interdimensional larvae and Dr. Owens wants to keep an eye on him here if case it progresses. It's for his own safety."

"He... what?" Mike exclaimed and the nurse sighed. 

"Why don't you just see him and then you can speak with Dr. Owens about it, okay?" 

"What if I wanna speak to Dr. Brenner?" 

"Dr. Brenner is busy today," she replied shortly.  

"Sure. Okay, so when do I get to hear the real story?" 

The nurse didn't reply and steered him towards a door.

"He's right in here." She unlocked it and pushed it open. Mike stood frozen for a full ten seconds as he stared at his friend seated with his head in his hands on the cot. Will looked up with tired eyes at his visitors.

"Mike?!" he cried in surprise. 

"Will!" Mike ran to him and Will jumped up to hug him quickly before Mike drew back, his eyes grazing over Will's buzz cut.

"They... they shaved your hair." 

Will bowed his head in a kind of shame. 

"Yeah, I know. I think it was Dr. Brenner's idea."

"That piece of shit. This is so wrong!" Mike spun around to glare at the nurse, but she remained stoic. 

"You have thirty minutes before I need to see you out," she told him and shut the door. Mike scoffed and turned back to Will. 

"What happened? Have they hurt you?" 

Will took a breath and then explained everything that he could remember and Mike's face was twisted up in fury and confusion by the end. 

"I don't care what the doctors say. Do you think you're sick?" 

"I... I don't know. I couldn't sleep last night. I had nightmares about being back in the Upside Down and I felt this..." 

"What? What did you feel?" Mike leaned forward, his dark eyes fixed on Will. 

"I dunno. It was just a nightmare."

"Will, you can tell me."

"It... it was an evil feeling. I couldn't see it, but I felt it all around me. I think... I think it wanted to kill me." 

"Did you tell anyone?" 

"No. But there's no use keeping secrets for long here. They're watching, Mike." Will pointed up to the corner camera and Mike narrowed his eyes at it. 

"C'mon." He tugged at Will's hand suddenly and pulled him off the cot towards the door.

"Mike, what are you doing?!" Will exclaimed in a panicked whisper as his friend flung open the door. The nurse was waiting outside with a security guard and seemed surprised to see them. 

"Where do you two think you're going?" 

"He has to use the bathroom," Mike told her matter-of-factly and Will stared at him. The nurse glanced at the guard before nodding. 

"See them to the nearest restroom." 

The guard stepped forward and led them to a door at the end of the hall. Will started inside and Mike began to follow. 

"I suppose you gotta go, too?" the guard gruffly asked of Mike.

"No, I just want to, uh, make sure he goes."

The man gave them a very strange look, but let him go in. Once they were alone, Will turned to Mike with a tiny frown. 

"Mike, there's surveillance in the bathrooms too. That's how Dr. Brenner found out about me throwing up the baby Demogorgon." 

"Then we'll whisper!" Mike dropped his voice and they went to stand at the sinks. 

"Okay," Will agreed in a hushed voice as Mike left his side and began heading for the urinals.

"What are you doing?" Will asked in a confused whisper.  

"Actually, I think I do have to pee," Mike admitted with a grin and Will shook his head as he focused on his own face in the mirror, taking in his dark circles and pale complexion. He pulled at his gown, which felt sticky against his skin. He sniffed himself and realized he smelled strongly of sweat. Was he sick after all?   

Mike came back a minute later to wash his hands and he glanced at Will's head. 

"I still can't believe they did that to you." 

"It looks bad, doesn't it?" Will reached up, running a hand over his head self-consciously. 

"You do kinda look like you have cancer," Mike noted.  

"Dr. Owens says it's easier for them to monitor my brain this way and it's only temporary."  

"And you believe him?" Mike asked doubtfully.

"I don't know. It's hard to figure him out. Sometimes I think he does want to help, but he's still working with Brenner." 

"Admit it, Will. He's a total douchebag and it was really wrong to kidnap you and scare the hell out of your mom. You know, the only reason I was able to come here was because she called my mom and sold her this story that you got diagnosed with brain cancer," Mike confided and Will's eyes widened. 

"Mom's alive and out of here? Is she okay?" 

"I have no idea, I just know my mom was talking to her on our phone tonight."

Will chewed this information over and wondered when he'd see Mom again. 

"But you know what?" Mike asked and playfully rubbed his friend's scalp. 

"What?" Will grinned sheepishly, ducking away from Mike's hand.

"Hair never stopped El." Mike gave him a soft smile and Will returned one back before it faded. He looked down at his hospital gown and bare feet on the gray linoleum.   

"I wish I had her powers. I'd blow this whole place open."

"I wonder where she is. You haven't seen or heard anything, have you?" 

Will shook his head in negative. 

"Nope."

They both were quiet for a moment. 

"Well, maybe you will and this could be your chance to help her," Mike said hopefully, but Will wasn't feeling too optimistic. 

"Thanks, Mike," he muttered and felt his shaven head again. He almost felt like a different person without his bowl cut.  

"Alright, boys, let's go!" The guard called loudly from outside, rapping on the door. Will grimaced and they left the bathroom, following the man back to Will's room where the nurse told Mike he had five minutes left. Mike made a rude gesture behind her back and as soon as the door was closed, he sighed loudly. 

"My mom says we're going to come again tomorrow and bring Dustin and Lucas. Maybe by then I'll figure out a plan."

"Mike, I don't want you to get hurt."

"I can't let you stay stuck here!" 

"Maybe it's for the best! From what you said, if Dustin and Lucas know, then their parents will know, and they'll tell other people in town and then everyone will know I'm apparently dying. I'm already a freak and this'll prove it," Will bitterly said. 

"That's not true! I'm gonna get you out and we'll find a way to get El out too. I don't care what it takes," Mike responded, unhappy his friend wasn't on the same page that he was. 

"It doesn't matter, Mike! They will always find me. The Upside Down will always find me." 

"What's that supposed to mean? Why are you sounding like you're giving up? When did you become so hopeless?!" Mike's voice began to rise in frustration and Will looked away. 

"I just don't see a way out this time. If the doctors don't get me, the Upside Down will. It's here, Mike. It's in me and it's all around me. It is a cancer and every second it's spreading closer to killing m-me," Will's voice cracked and Mike closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Don't talk like this. You're going to be fine, stop believing whatever fear Dr. Brenner's feeding you."

"You don't believe it, do you?" 

"I'm not going to buy that doctor's bullshit, Will! I don't know what's going on, but if this lab wants you here because they claim you are turning into a by-product of this stupid dimension and they want to use you, you're just gonna trust them?!"  

"But what if they're right?" 

"They're NOT." Mike turned on his heels and pulled open the door. 

"Mike!" Will called after him, but the door shut and Will groaned, flopping back onto the cot. 

In the hallway, Mike shrugged off the nurse as they went to the elevator. Upon landing back at the upper lobby floor, they stepped out and they saw Dr. Owens coming towards them. He approached Mike with mild stress tugging at his features.  

"Michael, right?" 

"It's Mike."

"Look, Mike, your mother's waiting for you."

"How could you do this to Will? Oh, that's right, you're an asshole who works with another asshole," Mike snapped and Owens grabbed his shoulders firmly. 

"I need you to listen to me. I know it looks scary to have your friend stuck here, but it's for the best. We want to help him."

"YOU'RE SCARING HIM! He thinks he's dying! You're NOT helping."

"Mike, it's okay, it's not what it looks like." Owens tried to sound comforting, but it wasn't coming out as such. 

"Let me go," Mike yanked himself away from the doctor and went striding fast to the lobby. Karen was at his side in a second and she glared down at him. 

"Micheal, don't run off like that! You should have waited for me while I had to sign all these forms. They wouldn't let me come until I did. So did you see him?"

"Yeah, but he's pretty sick. Barfing all over the place. I don't think you should see him today," Mike fibbed and Karen's face crushed into concern. 

"You're welcome to come tomorrow," Owens offered, side eyeing Mike. 

"That would be great. Thank you, Dr. Owens. I hope it won't be much trouble to bring along a few parents and their kids?"

"The more the merrier," Owens assured her in a jovial tone, but Mike could detect the tension lurking underneath. Karen smiled again and took her son's hand to leave. Owens waved and watched them until the door swung shut before stepping out of the lobby to where Dr. Brenner was standing in the shadows against the wall. 

"I don't like this," Brenner stated with a distinct edge to his voice. He had relented when it came to visitation for the boy, but only because it would hopefully keep the boy's friends from attempting to sneak in otherwise or causing a ruckus around town; he didn't need a repeat of last year's missing child fiasco. Plus, it was good for his colleague's self esteem when he won an argument for once.  

"I know, but I can't just turn them away, it would look suspicious," Owens reasoned and reminded Brenner. 

"Then I want to keep a close watch." 

"You always do," Owens grumbled and walked away. 

8:00 PM

Will heard the door click open and he barely turned his head as he lay, depressed, on his cot. Another nurse had come in after Mike left to take a blood sample for the second time today, but the soft tap of shoes and the way the door was gently shut now told him it wasn't anybody he wanted to see. When he opened one eye and peered over his shoulder, his dread was confirmed in the sight of the tall older man with styled white hair. His arms were behind his back and he was faintly smiling at the boy on the cot. Will shifted and groaned, slightly lightheaded, and sat up to face the doctor. 

"Hello, William. I have a friend for you," Brenner announced and Will stared at him doubtfully. His real friend was already gone and there couldn't be anyone else small enough to hide behind Brenner. Knowing this man, the "friend" was probably nothing good.

"Would you like to see him?" Brenner asked in a teasing tone. 

Him? Will shrugged and watched as Brenner brought one hand around to his front. Clutched in his grasp was a ragged stuffed lion that Will recognized as his own he used to have in Castle Byers. 

"What... Where did you get him?" he wondered, leaning forward as Brenner put the plush animal into his outstretched hands. 

"Does he have a name?" Brenner asked a question in return, not bothering to answer the first. Will hesitated, turning the lion over and feeling his matted fur. 

"Um... Leo, I guess. I've had him forever."

"My little one has a lion as well, very much like yours," Brenner told him and Will glanced up at him. Although his words were delivered in a somewhat warm manner, his gaze was much cooler and hard. Will swallowed. He meant Eleven, didn't he?  

"Dr. Owens convinced me to let you have a few other objects as well. I hear you like to draw?" 

Will nodded and Brenner brought around his other arm to show Will his sketchbook and a box of crayons. He handed them to Will with a pleasant expression.  

"Thanks," Will mumbled and Brenner stepped forward. 

"What do you say?"  

"I said thanks."

Dr. Brenner took another step. 

"Who am I?" 

"You're Dr. Brenner...?" Will replied cautionsly, beginning to lean backwards.  

"No..." Brenner unexpectedly reached out and tipped Will's chin up sharply with his index finger. Will felt his heart pounding hard and he tried to remain calm, but this was getting creepy.

"I am not Dr. Brenner to you. As long as you are in this facility, you will address me as Papa. So you will say, 'Thank you, Papa'. Understand?" 

This man was crazy. 

"I-I'm... I'm not her. No way," Will firmly said and the doctor gripped his chin hard, holding it in a vice. 

"Do not disrespect me. If you want to live, you will call me Papa." 

"I don't know who you think you are, but you're not my dad."

"You don't know what it is like to really have a father, do you?" 

He struck a nerve and Will felt the sting. 

"I know I don't want you as mine! Why can't you just leave me alone? No wonder Eleven ran away from you." 

Brenner's hand twitched and tightened on Will's face while his other hand began to raise and for a moment Will feared he was going to get slapped, but then the doctor dropped both hands and turned away towards the door. 

"If you prefer Dr. Owens instead, I can arrange that, but I do not want you to ever speak of Eleven in that context again."  

"I just want you to stay away from me!" Will yelled after him as the door slammed. Will waited on pins and needles for the next several minutes in case he came back. One of the many downsides to being confined to a solid, relatively sound proof room was you never could tell who was going to come in the door. 

Will was just starting to drift to sleep while staring at the old lion resting beside him, when the door flung open again. 

"Hey, kiddo," Dr. Owens greeted as he came in and Will sighed, sitting up. The doctor had a stack of small books in his hands and he set them down at the foot of the cot. 

"Dr. Brenner wanted to give you these. I really don't know what good they'll do you," Owens explained, picking up one of the books and Will saw it was a children's board book about farm animals. 

"Those are baby books!" he protested and Owens nodded.

"I know, it's absurd, but I got the impression you two already had a run-in. Trust me, it's easy to aggravate him." 

"That's because he's nuts! He wants me to call him Papa!" 

Owens clenched his jaw and glanced up at the camera in the corner before coming closer to Will, holding up the board book to the side of his face the camera could see and lowering his voice. 

"He has this... obsession, I'd call it. He's locked in this mindset of being a father. I'm warning you now because he can go extreme real quick and there's no stopping him once he does."

"How do you put up with him?" 

"Well, for one, I'm not you, Will. My advice is to play his game for now and the less you upset him, the safer you'll be here. I'm sorry it had to come to this."

"So that's it? That's your advice? Do what this sicko says and read books for babies? That's what you came in here for?" Will questioned with a dash of hatred, but Owens just smiled. 

"No, actually what I really came in here for was to let you know we're going to have you moved to a more permanent room tomorrow, where our equipment is set up so we can start running tests and monitor your vitals. And the room will have a window, how about that?" He spoke as if having a single window was a luxury - which, Will supposed, in this place it was. 

"Great. I'm looking forward to it." Will wasn't sure where these bolder lines of dialogue were coming from, maybe it had to do with seeing Mike.  

"Oh - and you really need to eat more than a cup of oatmeal. I don't think you want our nurses to put you on fluids, do you?" Owens raised his eyebrows and Will shook his head against that proposition. 

"Okay, I'll eat," he resigned.

"Good. I'll have a tray brought up to you and make sure you get enough rest tonight. We could tell from the CCTV you were restless last night and crying out in your sleep. You were actually audibly yelling out for your friend, Mike," Owens told him with laced concern and curiosity. Will's face paled further and he averted his eyes, feeling exposed and uncomfortable.

"It seems you had night sweats as well. Do you want your sheets changed?"

God, he hated being in a place with zero privacy and not much tact, either. 

"No. Thank you. I'm fine."

"If there's anything you'd like to talk about, I'm here."

That's kind of the problem. You're here and I'm here without a choice. 

"I know." Will didn't bother hiding the unwelcome tone in his words. Dr. Owens took the cue and began to walk out, stopping briefly as if he was going to say something, but then he kept going, closing the door for the final time. 

8:30 PM

Brenner walked to Eleven's nursery, his anger simmering from his interaction with Will. It didn't matter much, though; the boy would suffer soon enough. Right now, he had to put his attention to his daughter, even though she should be fast asleep, since it was her bedtime over an hour ago. As he stepped inside the room, Brenner rearranged his face into an expression as friendly as he could muster. Eleven rolled over in her crib at the sound of the door and flick of the lights. She stood up behind the bars with her teddy bear at her side. He noticed her stuffed lion was pushed to the very edge of the crib, paws dangling out limply, and Brenner scowled as he dropped the crib bars down and Eleven clamored out onto the floor, crawling to her blocks and toys scattered around.

"I see someone's not very sleepy tonight. Do you need an earlier bedtime?" he asked her, knowing a reply wasn't in order, and he grabbed the lion from its lonely position before sitting down on the floor next to her. He attempted to get her attention with the stuffed animal, but she didn't seem very interested and reached for a bouncy ball instead. 

"Eleven." 

She bounced the ball and then glanced over at him warily. 

"Don't you miss Mr. Lion?" 

She looked at the plush resting on Papa's knees and hugged her teddy bear closer. 

"Well, Mr. Lion misses you very much," Brenner told her, patting the lion's furry head. She looked at Papa and then back to the ball in her hand. 

"Won't you play with him?" Brenner pushed the lion onto her lap and she began to feel annoyed, so she shoved him off and scooted away, clutching the bear instead. 

"That was not very nice, Eleven." His tone teetered towards disciplinary and she fearfully met his piercing eyes as he held out a hand. 

"Give it to me," he ordered, indicating to the bear. She whimpered and squeezed the bear tighter. 

"I think Mr. Teddy Bear needs a timeout. He's going away for a while." 

Her eyes grew wide as Papa snatched at the bear, attempting to wrestle it from her arms. 

"NO!" Eleven shouted as he tore the stuffed animal from her grasp and jumped up, quickly striding to the door. 

"NO! No, no, Papa! No!" she lunged at his legs and flung an arm out as her telekinesis kicked in and Brenner felt a pull on the teddy bear in his hands. 

"No, Eleven," he scolded as he tossed the bear out into the hallway and tried to close the door. She screamed and and he was suddenly thrown violently against the door, hitting his face against the metal and falling backwards. Two guards stationed in the hallway rushed to catch and assist him while Eleven collapsed as the door was shut for good. She began to sob as the anger and sadness flowed right into her like a tidal wave. She loved that bear. Why was Papa taking him away? Where was he being taken? She was tired of and didn't want Mr. Lion. Frustrated, she kicked the lion across the floor and he slumped against the wall. She stood up shakily and wobbled to the closed door, putting her hands to it and feeling what she had felt many times when she was left alone in punishment... the unrelenting hardness. She had to find that teddy bear and if she couldn't do it physically, then she'd do it her own special way. Eleven climbed back into the crib and wrapped the pink blanket draped over the side around her head, covering her eyes from the light in the room. Internally, she focused easily on Papa's face burned into her mind and soon she found herself inside the black void. She walked forward, her feet slapping water underneath her as usual, and saw the back of Papa up ahead. He was holding the bear in the crook of his arm and Dr. Owens was standing in front of him, clearly unhappy. 

"What'd you do that for?! She loves that bear and it keeps her complacent!" he was loudly exclaiming and Eleven stepped around to get a look at Papa. 

"If it's complacency she wants, then she can have a pacifier!" he responded angrily.

"I don't have time for this. We need to focus on Will." Owens turned away and disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

Will? She hoped he was okay and Papa hadn't hurt him the other day when Hopper came to try to rescue her. She'd had a fitful sleep last night, full of nightmares about Will dying, Hopper getting tortured, and herself falling into eternal blackness before she jolted awake with a soiled diaper.

Papa turned around then to face her and Eleven froze as he almost seemed to be looking at her, but he wasn't, and he walked away, approaching a door several feet away. He knocked once and then unlocked it and Eleven struggled to retain her vision as he went forward. Her eyes followed his and she gasped when she saw who sat on a cot front of him. 

Will. 

She blinked and studied him, realizing his hair was gone and he was in a gown like she used to wear. 

"No," she breathed, wanting to reach out and touch him.

"I have another friend for you, William," Papa's voice said off to her left and she spun around to watch him hold out her teddy bear. 

"No, no!" Eleven cried, her arms flailing for it, but there was no way she could touch it. Will seemed surprised and looked at Brenner. 

"This isn't one of mine."

"Consider it a gift." 

"Um, okay."

"Now what do we say in return?" 

Will hesitated as he put the bear down on the cot next to him, along with another stuffed animal. A lion. Eleven cocked her head it and felt deeply perplexed. Why did he have a lion? It wasn't her lion, was it? No, this one looked older and dirtier, as if it had been treated roughly. 

"Thank you... Papa," Will reluctantly stated to Brenner, who smiled smugly.  

Eleven slipped, losing the vision, and she came gasping to her senses back in her room. Will wasn't supposed to be here and Papa wasn't supposed to be treating him as if he were her! No, this was all wrong. A terrible, toxic blend of confusion, anger, and jealousy riled inside her and she screamed again, letting her emotions explode as she yanked the blanket off her face and all her blocks and toys began to levitate off the floor and swirl around the room in an colorful tornado. All at once, she then caused them to pelt against the door. She left the crib and her mobile came crashing down from the ceiling. Her nose was streaming red and her head began to pound, buzzing as she wavered on her feet, finally falling to the floor where she laid face down. She turned her head and glared at her stupid lion still resting against the wall. 

She didn't care if it was Will who had it. She didn't care if Papa tried to stop her. She was going to get her special bear back somehow. 

Chapter Text

October 6, 1984 9:00 AM

HAWKINS NATIONAL LABORATORY, HAWKINS INDIANA  

Dr. Brenner went in to check on Eleven. He'd found her late last night unconscious on the floor with her nursery in complete disarray. Once he had calmed his own internally raging anger at the pure disrespect she had towards him and everything he provided her, he had her temporarily transferred to the care of nurses overnight and had his staff come in to clean up the mess. Her room was now devoid of any toys since it was clear she didn't deserve or was responsible enough to enjoy them. He shook his head in disappointment as Eleven sat up in her crib and he walked over to pull her out, realizing she needed a diaper change. Sighing, he hauled her over to the cot and proceeded to remove her clothing and clean her up. She wouldn't look at him. As he slid a fresh diaper under her bottom and closed it up around her, he softly cleared his throat. 

"Do you know why there are no toys in your room today?" 

She glanced at him to show she heard him, but then swiftly turned her head to the wall. He secured the tabs on her diaper and patted her stomach firmly. 

"Do you remember what happened last night?" 

A small noise from her throat was the best he'd get. Brenner nodded as he put her back into her one piece sleeper and pulled her up to face him. Her legs and feet in their booties dangled over the sides of the cot. He looked her squarely in the eyes and spoke seriously. 

"Last night, you had an accident. You were playing with your toys and you put a small ball in your mouth and accidentally choked on it. This naturally frightened you, so you used your abilities out of panic, but you went out of control. It took several nurses to calm you down and they were able to finally dislodge it. I almost lost you."

Eleven stared at him incredulously and in pure disbelief. 

"No..." she whispered, confused and hurt he would lie to her. That wasn't what happened at all. She tried to get words out to explain somehow, but he pushed a pacifier into her mouth. 

"Shh. I know you're upset, but the toys have to stay away for a while. They're too much of a choking hazard for you. I'll get you a nice, safe rattle instead. I know you'll like it." 

She scowled as he lifted her up and carried her back to the crib. He smiled as he slid the bars back up into place and Eleven sat, dumbfounded at the way he was treating her, next to her stuffed lion. Brenner's smile stretched further as his gaze flicked back and forth from her to the plush animal.

"I'm glad to see Mr. Lion and you are friends again." 

Without another word, he left her room, shutting the door behind him. Eleven spat the pacifier out and nudged the lion away, feeling dejected. Papa's lies made her feel even worse than the truth of it being he took her teddy bear for no good reason and nothing he did could soothe her. She laid down and stared up at the depressingly bare ceiling lacking the mobile and now she wished she hadn't destroyed it. Papa had told her about anger once, before she had escaped, and how useful it could be, but also how dangerous it was. He compared it to herself and what she could do with her mind, and that's why it was so important to learn control. But it was hard to control anything when she was being toyed with and nothing was making sense. Desperate, she picked up the pacifier and popped it back to her mouth, sucking away the mental pain, but it did so little.  

10:00 AM

Dr. Owens had been right about the window, Will realized as he was escorted into his new room. It was larger with a single pane of glass being his reminder of the outside world that existed, even if it only showed a wall of woodland trees. The cot was the same as the other, but he had a side table, so Will set his drawing pad and crayons down on top next to a glass of water and plopped the stuffed lion and the bear onto the sheets. 

"Let's get you showered," the nurse next to him stated, grabbing a few towels under the table. She led him out down the hall and down a floor to a bathroom where she pushed the door open and Will walked in, feeling somewhat apprehensive. He looked back at the nurse, who set the towels down on the counter and pulled back the shower curtain. 

"Remove your gown, please." 

Will paused, his heart pounding.

"I-I can, um, wash myself," he stuttered uneasily and he wished Mom was here.

"Are you sure?" the nurse asked as she began to run the water. 

"Yes."

"Fine then. I'll go get you a new gown." She opened the door and left as Will breathed a sigh of relief. He stripped quickly and stepped into the shower, shivering until the water poured out in a warmer temperature. He turned the faucet as far as it would go to hot and relished in the feeling of the heated water pounding onto his skin and scalp. It felt very odd to wash his head without locks of hair to flip and rinse, and he wondered how long it would take for his hair to grow back in and if Dr. Brenner would have it shaved again. Will put his face to pelting stream of water coming down from the showerhead and let his mind dissolve momentarily as his body soaked up the hot moisture. A minute later, he vaguely heard the door open again and he knew the nurse must've come back. He waited a few minutes and then shut the water off, listening. It sounded quiet in the room, so Will shoved the curtain back. He gasped loudly when he saw the nurse standing placidly by the counter. She didn't even bat an eye at his nudity and just handed over a towel, which he wrapped himself in as fast as possible, face flushing from embarrassment and the hot shower wasn't helping either. Thankfully she glanced away as he dressed into the gown, only coming over to tie the back and take the wet towels. He stared down at the flooring as she walked him back to his room and he was left alone. Will released a breath slowly and stepped over to the window, rubbing his arms, which now were gathering goosebumps amidst the chill of the room. He stared out at the swath of dark greens and browns outside, pensively thinking about how quickly his life had changed and fearing what could come next until he heard the door open behind him and a small commotion caused him to whip around.

Dustin and Lucas were barging into his room with a handful of people crowding by the doorway in the hall.   

"WILL!" Both boys shouted in relief and ran to him. Mike was there too, following behind with a grin and Will's eyes went over his head to the few adults standing in the doorway. He recognized Dustin's mom and Lucas's parents along with Mike's mother, who was carrying Holly on her hip. 

"You guys all came here to see me?" he asked in quiet surprise and Lucas snorted. 

"Duh! We actually didn't want to come, but our parents insisted. No, I'm just kidding, dude." Lucas laughed, seeing Will's puzzled face.  

"You look better today," Mike noticed, his eyes raking over Will's shiny face and brighter eyes. Will shrugged and smiled. 

"Well, I just had a shower. You guys missed this nurse seeing me naked."

"Holy shit! Was she hot?" Dustin asked without hesitation as his and Lucas's eyes both bugged out and Will cringed. 

"No! It was super weird. Nobody gives me any privacy around here."

"Oh." Dustin seemed a little put out and Will sat down carefully on his cot as Karen Wheeler moved forward, smiling gently at him. Holly's wide eyes were roving all over the room, pausing near Will.  

"Bear!" she shouted suddenly, pointing at the teddy bear on the cot and Karen laughed, adjusting her on her hip. 

"Hey, where'd he come from?" Mike asked, bending down to pick it up and Will rubbed his neck awkwardly.

"Uh, a doctor gave it to me," he answered, not comfortable mentioning Brenner's name under the watchful eyes of the parents, especially Mike's mom. 

"Well, that was nice," Karen noted and Mike had to disguise his suspicion as nonchalance. Will also had to fake a weary smile and nods as Mrs. Wheeler asked him how he was doing and making sure he was well enough for a visit, along with his friends' parents also greeting him and giving their concerns and well wishes. After several minutes, Karen motioned to his friends, telling them to let him rest, but Mike wouldn't budge. 

"Mom, can we stay a little longer? Just for a few minutes?" Mike asked of her and she smiled tenderly. 

"Of course. Holly and I will go wait in the lobby with the others. But don't push Will if he's tired." 

"We promise," Mike said, Dustin and Lucas echoing it. Once the door was shut, Will relaxed and laid down on his cot, knocking aside the stuffed lion while Dustin picked up the bear from the sheets. 

"Hey, this bear smells weird," Dustin exclaimed as he sniffed the fur.

"Dustin, what the hell?" Lucas made a grab for it, but he backed up out of reach with a puzzled face. 

"What is it?" Mike asked as Dustin's eyes grew wider. 

"Guys, I think this bear smells like baby powder."

Lucas laughed and Mike's eyebrows raised, but Will sat straight up. 

"What if it's hers?" 

"What?" Dustin glanced at him and sniffed the bear again, making a face. 

"Eleven's. What if that's her teddy bear? Dr. Brenner gave it to me yesterday. Remember, Hopper said he has her in diapers." 

"That's gross," Lucas commented as an aside.  

"Dr. Brenner gave you a teddy bear?" Dustin asked, mouth dropped open.  

"Yeah, he was pretty insistent about it."

"But why would he give you El's toy?" 

"I dunno. I mean - "

"Maybe it's a clue," Mike interrupted as Dustin placed the bear down at the foot of the cot. Mike ran his fingers over the brown fuzzy ears, wondering if El's own fingers had touched it. 

"He found my old lion, too," Will mentioned, lifting up Leo.

"He's probably just trying to get you to trust him," Mike told him in disgust. 

"I can't trust him. It's impossible."

"Good. Because he's a grade A asshole and he doesn't deserve anyone's trust, especially El's. I hope she's okay. I want to look for her room, but it's gonna be hard with this place swarming with doctors and guards, let alone our own parents." Mike frowned down at his feet.

"I wish we had something heavy and we could smash this window," Dustin said, tapping the glass. 

"Like that wouldn't cause any attention." Lucas rolled his eyes. 

"Well, do you have any other ideas?" Dustin snapped. 

"Which direction are we facing?" Mike asked and Lucas looked out the window. 

"Uh... the parking lot is that way and the sun came up over there... I think we're facing north."

Mike pondered for a minute until Dustin demanded to know what he was thinking about. 

"I'm just trying to think if we could get in from the outside. You know, climb up to a window or something."

"Are you crazy? This place is an impenetrable fortress. It's not a castle from a fairy tale," Dustin scoffed.

"But how did Eleven get out in the first place? Do any of us even know? Did she tell you anything, Mike?" Lucas asked curiously.

"No, I wish I'd had the chance to ask. I never thought Will would get stuck here, too."

"It's okay. If El could survive in this place for years, then I can survive a few weeks or however long they keep me here. Mom will find me a way out," Will told his friends. 

Mike pinched his nose and groaned.

"Ugh, here he goes again with this..."

"With what?" Dustin asked and Lucas gave Will a shrewd look. 

"He trying to act like everything's fine! It's NOT fine and it's gonna get worse for him if we don't do something!" Mike exclaimed in frustration.  

"Mike - " Will started, but he put up his hands.

"Don't convince me otherwise. We'll find a way to help you and get to El, wherever she is in this goddamn place." 

"Okay," Will said quietly and Dustin complained about how hungry he was and wondered if Hawkins Lab even had a vending machine. He and Lucas started to head out after a goodbye and assurances to Will, but Mike strayed behind, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder. 

"I'll figure out a way, alright? Just hang in there." 

"I know."

They all left and Will laid down again, rubbing the lion in his lap. He leaned forward and smelled the teddy bear and Dustin was right; it did faintly have the scent of baby powder on it. Why else would it smell like that if it wasn't Eleven's? Did she miss it or was it one of many that she had? Was Brenner really that generous or was this all some kind of test or trick? Will wasn't sure and he occupied himself by theorizing until the door clicked open once more and Dr. Brenner himself came in with Dr. Owens and a few scientists behind them. The same nurse who took Will to the shower stepped in as well and she was holding an exceptionally long needle. He gulped and his stomach flipped, his body flinching as she plunged it in his right arm and held it for several seconds. She removed it and then plastered him with electrodes, hooking him up to the heart monitor.   

"We're going to do a little test today, Sir Will. Is that okay by you?" Owens asked, pulling up a chair next to him and pulling out a blue stress ball. Will nodded slowly as his head began to feel fuzzy. He slurred out a question and his own ears couldn't make out what he had just asked, but Owens seemed to get the gist of it.

"Oh, that was just to relax your body a little bit. Try to stay awake, okay? Focus on my face." 

Will trained his blurring eyesight on the doctor and blinked, willing his face to appear clearer. 

"Good, Will. Do you see this?" Owens held up the rubber ball and Will nodded slowly. 

"Here, hold it." He pressed it into Will's clammy palm.

"Alright. Now, what I want you to do is to squeeze this ball any time you feel even a tiny bit of pain."

Pain? Oh, God. 

"O-Okay..."

"Bring them in," Brenner's voice ordered from off to his left and Will turned his head with effort to the door, where two scientists were wheeling in a cart with two glass tanks resting on top. 

"Specimen number twenty. Larval stage."

Will swallowed. Owens watched him carefully as the scientist opened the lid on one tank and another man with a small blow torch stepped forward, leaning an arm down towards the tank's inhabitant, a slimy slug creature that Will recognized as what he had coughed up. How many were there and how had they captured one? 

"Go ahead," Brenner nodded at the scientist and the flames from the torch then touched the body of the blob and it writhed, hissing horribly. Will instinctively tensed his fingers around the ball.

"Pain?" Owens asked as Will's heart rate began to spike up on the monitor. He shook his head.

"Just scared."

He released his fingers from the ball and Owens glanced at Brenner.

"Try to relax," Brenner stated with no emotion behind his words and Owens smiled at Will in anxious reassurance.

"Just relax, kiddo. It hopefully won't hurt at all. We're testing your empathy."  

Empathy? For the Upside Down? Is he kidding? 

Owens signaled to the men to try the other subject in the second tank. A man lifted the lid cautiously, revealing another creature to the air of the room.

"Specimen number fourteen. Juvenile, one week."

It was an equally slimy four legged thing with a slight tail that was getting too big for its tank, and it made a miniscule roaring sound that made Will's hair stand up. He knew that sound; he'd heard it while in the Upside Down. Dreadfully, he watched the man as he swiftly stuck the tip of the blowtorch to the mottled skin of the creature and it shrieked,  jumping upward. Will flinched and his body recoiled on the cot, skin pressing into the cool sheets. The scientist kept licking the torch flames to the body of the specimen and it continued to screech and twist in agony in the tank, pummeling its body desperately at the glass, leaving clear trails of goo in its wake. The longer he stared at the suffering, the worse Will himself began to feel, and he began to cry and visibly shake. Owens stood up, seeing his reaction. 

"Okay, stop. Let's stop."

"No," Brenner countered and Owens gradually sat back down against his better judgement. He glanced with concern at Will and then at the frantically beeping machines. 

"Just one more time, alright?" Owens told Will, but he was hardly listening. A terrible rage began to boil up within him as tears streamed down his face and, for some instinctual reason, he wanted to smash the tanks to open and free the creatures. They didn't deserve to be this hurt. They were just like him, at the mercy of sadistic scientists and doctors. Lab rats. 

"Stop," Will stated in a quiet, but forceful, voice and Owens eyed him carefully. Brenner, however, motioned to the scientists to keep going until the specimen perished.  

"NO!" Will screamed out and Owens leaned back in alarm. The scientists began to back away, the blow torch shutting off against Brenner's wishes, and Will thrashed on the cot as the nurse tried to hold him down. 

"NOOO! LET THEM GO!" he hollered and the men started leaving the room, slamming the lids on the tanks and taking them with them on the rolling cart. Brenner, on the other hand, stepped forward to the upset boy, cocking his head in awe.  

"Martin, come on. Let's give him some space," Owens declared as he got up to his feet, but Brenner came closer until he was inches from Will's body. Will screamed in his face and grabbed at the doctor's throat, fingers digging into his skin and attempting to choke him. Owens shouted and it took both him and the nurse to pry Will's fingers from Brenner. Voices were shouting his name, but he didn't care what they were saying or whose name it was. He didn't feel like he had a name anymore, that he wasn't any identity except raw anger and fear. Nothing else mattered. 

The stab of the needle hit him seconds before he really felt it and then Will collapsed, body trembling and sweating until he slipped off into complete unconsciousness. 

4:30 PM

BYERS HOUSE, HAWKINS INDIANA

Joyce gripped the telephone tightly in her hands and twirled the cord in a jittery manner around her fingers as she listened to the voice on the other end. A man in a gray suit stood a few feet behind her and she kept looking over her shoulder nervously as she tried to focus on the phone conversation.  

"What? You... Oh, Karen, that's so nice of you. I just don't know if today would be a good day, you know, if you..."

She paused as the other woman's voice asked her a question and she quickly answered.

"No, I'm home, Jonathan's here helping out and - "

Karen asked her about work and she, again, replied rather fast. 

"Donald gave me the day off today actually, so - "

Joyce stopped as Karen's voice became increasingly insistent and when there was an opening to speak, she relented. 

"Okay, fine. What time?" 

Joyce nodded, glancing off to the clock on the wall and clenching the receiver in a death grip. She forced a smile as she replied. 

"That's great, okay. Thanks, I'll see you soon. Okay. Bye."

Joyce's hands trembled as she hung up the phone and grabbed for a cigarette before walking into the living room. Jonathan was seated rigidly on their couch, trying to watch television, but the awkward tension hung heavy in the room like a thick cloud before the storm. The past 48 hours had been a living nightmare. Agents from Hawkins Lab had been occupying her house ever since she had been sent home and fed bullshit to tell everyone she knew personally about her son. When she had first resisted, a gun was put to her head and she had no choice but to do everything they told her, including lying and telling Karen that Will had cancer. She'd never felt so afraid as she did now, not even during the several times when Lonnie had abused her, yelled at her and struck her in the face. She had been terrified and extremely angry, but even that was nothing next to this. At least Will had been somewhat safe then; Lonnie wasn't after him and he had been in his locked bedroom with Jonathan protecting him. Now he wasn't safe and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it. 

The agents monitored her calls, watched her eat, and wouldn't give her privacy in her own bedroom. She was being held hostage in her own damn house and it scared the hell out of her. The cigarettes and Jonathan's presence were the only semi-comfort and calmed her nerves enough to function when she came close to screaming and tearing her hair out. She couldn't do this much longer. 

"Jonathan, Mike's mom is coming over at five o'clock," she stated to the room and he glanced at the armed men standing around the room. She closed her eyes, wishing they didn't exist.

"What about them? What are we supposed to tell her? That we are this close to getting our heads blown off when we say or do the wrong thing?!" Jonathan's voice cracked and it almost broke Joyce's heart. He was a tough kid, he had to be, but this was breaking him - and her. 

"Well?!" Joyce addressed with sharpness to the agents. One of them, a lean man with a mustache and hand on his belt, inches from his pistol, came forward. 

"A few of us are going to leave, but the rest have to stay. We'll take the boy's room and wait." 

"Mom, I don't want these assholes in my room," Jonathan complained, standing up and the agent shifted, scowling. 

"No, we'll stay in the room of Will Byers." 

Joyce hated that idea, but she knew she couldn't say no, so she nodded while pulling anxiously at the ends of her hair and waiting until she finally heard the knock on the door. She went down the hall and swung the door open to see Karen standing with a casserole and plate of sugar cookies in her hands. Joyce broke into a very weak smile that her cheeks struggled to hitch up.  

"Thank you. That's really thoughtful, thanks. Come inside. Here, I'll just set it over here," Joyce acknowledged while she backed up and walked down the hall, taking the food into the kitchen and over to the counter. Karen pulled up a chair, keeping her eyes set on Joyce. There was silence for a minute.

"How are you holding up?" Karen finally asked tenderly. 

"I-I'm doing the best I can. It's been really hard and scary with my son away," Joyce replied in a strained voice, which confirmed Karen's perception of her as a struggling mother whose son was just diagnosed with incurable cancer. 

"I saw Will today at the hospital, or what the kids like to call Hawkins Lab. It's quite a place and if you ask me, it gives me the shivers... But I've never liked hospitals and doctors all that much, so - " 

Joyce gasped and lunged forward unexpectedly, grasping Karen's hand like a drowning man for a lifesaver. Karen jumped slightly and instinctively pulled her hand away.

"Joyce, what's the matter?!"

"You saw Will? He's okay?"

"Well, he was up and awake and - "

"Thank goodness, okay, okay..." 

Karen gave her a reassuring smile, hiding her concern, and clasped her hands on the table top. She paused and then spoke sincerely.   

"I'm here for you. I know you've probably heard that too many times lately... "

"Not really," Joyce muttered bitterly under her breath. 

"Well, I do mean it. You know, I thought if you wanted Mike to help out around the yard, rake some leaves, anything you need, I know he'll do it and you won't have to pay him anything." 

"Oh, no, you don't have to..." Joyce protested and Karen smiled, reaching over for her hand. 

"I insist. I'll bring another casserole tomorrow and if there's anything I and the kids can do, please let me know."

"Karen, you have good kids. Mike has been a lifesaver for Will and Nancy has really brought Jonathan out of his shell. That's better than any casserole you could bring me."

Both women laughed and Karen nodded, smiling and wiping her watering eyes. 

"Yes, I suppose so. Thank you, Joyce." 

She nodded and scratched her fingernails nervously into the wood of the table until Karen spoke, glancing at the clock. 

"Well, I better get going. I left Holly with Ted and who knows the trouble those two could get up to. I'll see you tomorrow, Joyce. Call if you need anything."

She stood up, clutching her purse over her shoulder and left the kitchen, Joyce following behind. Once the front door was closed, the ounce of warmth diminished from the house. Joyce took a deep breath and jumped when she saw the agent with the mustache standing a few paces behind her in the hall.

"That was good, Ms. Byers." 

"I don't need you to tell me," she muttered and brushed past him back to the kitchen, wishing she could throw all the casseroles in the world at the men who caused all this. 

Chapter Text

October 11, 1984 9:00 AM

HNL

Will sat up begrudgingly, feeling disoriented, and his room spun in a white cyclone around him. He took a few breaths and tried to clear his head, propping himself up against his pillow and wincing at the sting of pains and bruises... souvenirs from the near constant injections, pokes and prods from the scientists over the last several days. He wasn't sure what they were trying to find from his insides because what he really felt was more psychological than physical. He couldn't forget that awful rage he had felt days ago with the test. It had diminished from its internal intensity, but he could still feel it in the back of his mind and it took a fair amount of self control to hold that emotion back whenever he saw any scientist, Dr. Brenner, and even Dr. Owens. His singular subconscious thought was to hurt them, find the monsters, and escape, but he knew how foolish that was. He couldn't fight Hawkins Lab, nor could his friends, really. Eleven had all the power, yet she hadn't used it, as far as he knew - she probably couldn't use it thanks to Brenner - and he didn't think she knew he was even here in the lab.

I'm not the one who actually needs rescuing, he realized. I know who I am and Brenner's tricks can't fool me, but Eleven doesn't know much better.

She believed in Brenner being her father (maybe he actually was, Will hadn't considered her origins at all, but she had to come from somewhere and he shuddered to think she was related to that guy) and therefore he had the ultimate control over her well being, or lack of it.

Thank God I wasn't born here like I guess she was.

Maybe it was better to have a deadbeat dad who didn't give a shit about you than one who monitored your every move and who was convincing his daughter that she was still a baby who completely depended on him. That sounded like a nightmare and one that Will had zero interest in being a part of, but he was afraid of Brenner's fixation and Owens warning him about the doctor's behavior. The longer he was stuck here, the worse it was likely to become and the more risk he was in at becoming another child - or toy - of "Papa's".

Screw that. 

10:00 AM

Brenner watched his daughter shaking the red and yellow circular rattle as she sat in her crib and he smiled, coming over to bring down the bars and she stopped, gazing at him expressionlessly.

"Do you like it?" He pointed and Eleven gave a tiny shrug, setting it down. 

"Bear. Want... bear." 

"Bear? I'm afraid Mr. Teddy Bear is busy, but that's why Mr. Lion is here instead, don't you see?" 

"No."

Brenner loomed over her, hooking his arms under hers and bringing her up to him out of the crib. She rested her head automatically on his shoulder with a tiny frown and he adjusted his grip on her with a grunt. 

"Well, it doesn't matter much today. I have something else to show you that will be much more important," Brenner told her and her ears perked up at his words. If it was so important, she had to know. Maybe it was about Will? She hoped he was okay; she hadn't been able to check inside her mind and find him as of late because Papa was always around, yet she was somewhat grateful because he hadn't punished her (like she had feared) for how upset she had been and making a mess of her room over the taking of her teddy bear.

Once in the hall, Brenner set her down on her feet and sighed. Confused, she looked up at him and he shook his head.

"You're feeling a bit too heavy for me today. Can you hold Papa's hand instead?" He rubbed his lower back with a wince and took a breath before extending his palm out to her. She took his hand gingerly and let him pull her down the hall and into an elevator. She watched him carefully as he punched in the buttons and the elevator began to drop, farther down than usual and it made her stomach do a slight plummet. Eleven clutched his arm nervously and he shifted, reaching over and patting the top of her head. 

"It's okay, Eleven. I'll be here the whole time."

The doors of the elevator slid apart and she found herself facing down a dimly lit hall and several scientists in lab coats standing at attention.

"Dr. Brenner," they greeted unanimously as he strode forward with Eleven in tow and everyone walked to a large door that had been affixed with a sophisticated keypad locking system. A guard stepped forward and put in the exact code and gradually the heavy doors clunked open. Brenner led the way into a very large room full of more personnel and panels of machinery with multicolored lights. Eleven looked around past the people and equipment as Brenner steered her over to a platform overlook and what she saw in front of her made her breath catch in her throat and she tensed up. A thick mass of vines everywhere and a pulsing opening to what was nothing else but a portal to the Upside Down lay before them past a suspended cage. Eleven looked down at the floor below and saw men in white hazmat suits moving tanks occupied with dark colored creatures of some sort. She squinted and heard a small roar come from one of the tanks as a man set it down next to a heated Bunsen burner. The screeching got worse as he pushed the tank closer and the creature writhed in discomfort. 

"Monster..." Eleven whispered, glancing up at Papa fearfully and she began to try to step backwards. He yanked her around to the front of him and placed his hands solidly on her shoulders, rooting her in place as she almost stepped on his shoes. He gave her shoulders a little squeeze and spoke proudly.  

"Look at what you see in front of you, Eleven. This is going to be the future. Our future." 

She stared at the sprawling mess and then twisted her head up to see his grin.

"I know you don't understand. It may be frightening to you, but once we figure out how to adapt to this environment and establish a base, there's no stopping the spread. Hawkins will be consumed and will become the very first habitat of this new world. And you and I will be leading the way." 

"No," she gasped, shifting her feet uncomfortably as the pressure of his hands mounted on her shoulders.

"No what? No to this world? No to me and you?"

"Bad..."

"Bad? Let me tell you something, Eleven. Nor you or I would be here today, in this country, if brave men had chosen to remain in their parts of the world. If they had not invaded and conquered, there would be no us. No Hawkins, Indiana. By pushing into this parallel dimension that exists just as much as this one we are in, we are merely expanding the boundaries of the human race. We will be making history together." 

She didn't quite know what he was really talking about, but it wasn't helping her perception of him right now. 

"But monsters?!"

"We'll control them just as we have everything else that poises a threat. Think of your lion." 

She craned her neck stare at him and her face scrunched in confusion. What did Mr. Lion have to do with this? 

"Lions are dangerous animals to us, but we have found ways to control them, even if that means hurting them, but then we can all co-inhabit in some way," Papa explained. 

"Hurt?" 

"Yes. These monsters can be hurt and they will learn, just as you and any other living person or animal with a functioning brain can. The ones that do not will be killed, but I hope we can avoid a genocide; these organisms are truly remarkable in their development and adaptations. We will make this work in our favor. There's no need to be truly afraid when we have what it takes to defend ourselves and you are going to be a big part of that." 

"NO!" she cried, trying to wrestle out of his tight grip and squirm away.

"Calm down, Eleven. Listen to me."

"LET ME GO!" She kicked his ankles and wriggled away. He reached for her and she ducked, shoving hard against his body.

"Eleven, stop this!" 

She saw his fingers coming at her from her peripheral vision and she instinctively lunged, biting the tip of his middle finger. Papa gasped, withdrawing away, and she made a bolt for it out the door. Nobody else tried to stop her, which surprised her, and she ran as fast as she could down the hall and into the elevator. She slammed a hand on the upper floor button and bounced uneasily on her toes as she rose up steadily. Once the elevator stopped and the doors began to slide open a fraction, she squeezed through and ran down the hallway, zigzagging this way and that, unsure of where she was actually going; she couldn't remember how to get back to her room. As she turned a corner, she saw a guard standing at the end of the hall and he yelled at her, coming forward and starting to speak into his radio, but before he could utter so much as a sentence, Eleven used her power and tossed him across the hall and he hit the tiled wall with a crunch. She heard another guard call after her from somewhere behind her and she flung herself up a flight of stairs and scrambled up to another floor. Her booties raced down the shiny white linoleum and her chest began to ache in effort, but she pressed on, whirling around another corner. Eleven screamed in shock as she slammed straight into someone and fell over to her side on the floor. She heard a familiar man's voice exclaim as a clipboard clattered to the ground and papers fluttered down. 

"Woah! Easy there, kiddo!" Dr. Owens bent down and grabbed up the paperwork as she rolled over and jumped to her feet, breathing heavily. She wiped her nose and she began to back up swiftly.

"What's going on?" he asked seriously, but Eleven didn't reply and she started to hurry away back where she came from.

"Eleven, STOP!" His sharp tone made her freeze; she had never heard him sound this angry at her before, but there was an undercurrent of concern, too. She swallowed and spun around to face the doctor. 

"What are doing? How did you get up here? Where's your Papa?" 

Too many questions she didn't know how to answer. Her heart pounded relentlessly and her legs began to shake slightly. Owens noticed her quivering and then looked around past her as though there would be someone else to explain, but it was just the two of them. He sighed loudly and tucked the papers under his arm. 

"Okay, okay. Just come with me, alright?" He walked to her and she didn't resist as he took her arm and marched her down the hall. Her energy was beginning to falter and she rubbed her face to stay present as they entered an office and she recognized it as his own. He guided her to a chair and closed the door, locking it behind him, before going to sit down behind his desk. Regarding her carefully, he spoke in a gentler voice.  

"Can you tell me anything about what happened? Are you hurt? Did Papa hurt you?" 

"He... monster. Upside Down. He want... Upside Down and monsters to Hawkins and to all humans," Eleven sputtered out and Owens frowned for a minute. 

"The Upside Down? He wants the monsters from the Upside Down into Hawkins and then exposed to the world, where they could hurt all humans? Is that what you're trying to tell me?" 

"Y-yes." 

"Okay. Look, uh..." Owens paused, his expression molding into awkwardness and a hint of regret.  

"I knew he'd pull this. I told him to wait to show you, but..." Owens muttered, glancing down to the desk. Eleven took a deep breath and he echoed with his own as he stood up, gesturing with a hand.  

"I want you to come with me."

She stayed put in her chair, not trusting him. He would just take her to Papa, wouldn't he? Owens seemed to suspect her suspicion, so he paused, a hand resting on the back of her chair.

"I won't take you to him. I want you to see someone else. If your Papa has shown you what I think he has, then it's about time you know who else is involved." 

She blinked and stared at him curiously, but caution kept her glued her seat. Owens rustled into one of his coat pockets and pulled out a couple of Mounds candy bars.  

"These are my favorite. Do you like coconut? I know that you like chocolate. Here, you can have one if you come," he offered with a genuine smile and she hesitantly stood up, moving forward. Papa hadn't let her have any sweets lately. She accepted the candy, the red wrapper crinkling in her fingers, and she followed Owens out of his office. She unwrapped it and took a tiny bite, tasting the dark chocolate coating first and then the sweet chewy white coconut. She took another bite and repeated an unfamiliar word he had said. 

"Co-conut?" 

"That's right, coconut. It's actually a type of fruit that is found usually in tropical places worldwide and it originally looks like a giant hairy brown ball of sorts, hell of a thing to crack open, but it gets processed down and sweetened for filler cased inside the molding of chocolate," Owens explained and Eleven listened, interested. She finished eating the candy bar and smiled. 

"What did I tell ya? Pretty good, right?" Owens chuckled. 

She nodded as they reached another floor and came before a closed door halfway down the hall. He unlocked it with a key. 

"Now, don't panic at what you're about to see. I know it might be surprising..." Owens told her as he opened the door. She peered inside and saw a familiar boy with buzzed hair and eyes closed, resting on the cot. It was Will! She felt some relief at knowing he was still alive and looked relatively unharmed and that her vision had been correct, but she also felt confusion and anger at why he was still imprisoned here in the first place.  

"I'm sorry it had to come to this," Owens apologized and Eleven moved forward, reaching for Will's hand. Seconds before she was about to touch his fingers, he sat upright in a flash, startling her, and gasped. 

"Eleven?! What are you doing here?!" 

She pointed to Dr. Owens and Will raised his eyebrows. 

"Does Dr. Brenner know?" 

"No, not at the moment, so let's get straight to the chase. Will, you're not alone here; Eleven has been two floors down from you this entire time. Eleven, Will is under our care here because we believe he suffering from some kind of attachment to the Upside Down. Dr. Brenner insists on studying him, seeing how his survival has impacted his body and mental well being. Both of you have one factor in common though; you two are key to whatever it is that we are dealing with."

"Why me? Is it because I was in the Upside Down too long? Why do I still feel it inside me and what are you guys trying to find?" Will pressed for answers, but Owens didn't have solid ones any he could distribute.  

"We're still figuring that out."

There was a uncomfortable silence between all three of them and Eleven's eyes drifted down to the cot and a familiar soft face was staring at her on Will's pillow. She leaned down and lifted up Mr. Teddy Bear to her face, rubbing him against her cheek. 

"So he is yours!" Will exclaimed in validation and Owens looked at him, perplexed.  

"How did you know?" 

"It smells like... like, uh, like her," Will replied with a stutter, nodding at the stuffed animal. 

"Me?" Eleven asked quietly, pointing a finger to her chest, and Will smiled faintly. 

"Yeah. Mike thought so too."

"Mike? Where?" She glanced around hopefully as though he would pop up out of the walls or from the window. 

"He's not here now, but he visited me the other day. Dustin and Lucas were there too. They want to help me and you." 

"Mike. I want Mike," Eleven demanded, turning to Owens as he gave a half shrug and a grimace, eyes darting from Will's face to hers.

"No can do there, kiddo. I'm sorry, but there's too much at risk. You must remain hidden, under the radar. Your Papa's orders, not mine and anyone else outside this facility is just a distraction." 

"What about Mike? He knows she's here and he needs to see her, to make sure she's okay and to see what Brenner's done to her. And what about my other friends? You expect them to forget or lose interest in me and her? Mike said Eleven is the best thing that's ever happened to our Party and to him."

"Will, your friends have good intentions, but they need to leave Eleven and you up to us. My job is to keep them out of all this. It's not safe." 

"My friends already know everything! They're the ones who dealt with it when I was in the Upside Down! We're a Party, we stay together with no secrets between us and Eleven is no exception!" 

"There's too much at stake. I've already put your friends in danger by letting them visit this place, but I did it because I thought it would be enough to keep them quiet and give the parents an explanation for your disappearance. Do you really want the entire town to know all of this? Of the truth of what's really happening? People will panic and act irrationally. Is that what you want, Will?" 

"Yeah, maybe! They need to know the truth, of what we're up against! I'm pretty sure Hawkins is going to be in more danger!"  

"Do you think I haven't considered that? I'm just trying to contain last year's disaster!" 

"You mean the Upside Down disaster? Yeah, that's a disaster that this stupid Lab caused!" 

"Papa wants it," Eleven spoke up suddenly and Will sat up straighter, leaning forward. 

"He wants the disaster? He wants the Upside Down, doesn't he? That's why he's capturing Demogorgons." 

"You... know?" 

"He brought them to me in this room to torture them and me."

Eleven's eyes grew as wide as saucers and Owens made a discontented noise at Will. He jabbed an angry finger at the doctor and shouted.  

"YOU were there! Tell her what they did! TELL HER what Brenner had his scientists do to them and how it affected me!" 

"It was just a test, nothing very conclusive..." 

"Fire! Fire hurts them, Eleven! It's their one weakness that makes them screech and writhe, enough to suffer in agony and I think eventually kill them if exposed too long. I... I could kind of feel it, their pain coursing through me and Brenner wouldn't stop. He wanted me to be in pain..." Will paused, his eyes darkening and Owens cleared his throat, noticing Eleven's frightened face. 

"Will, I think that's enough for today. Eleven is upset enough already and - " 

Quick footsteps behind the closed door made all three of them pause and Owens frowned, knowing those footfalls could only mean one person. 

"Will, stay where you are and keep quiet. Eleven, you - " 

The door banged open abruptly, cutting off his sentence sharply, the hinges screeching in protest as it hit the wall and Brenner's large hand slammed against the face of it. 

"ELEVEN!" Brenner shouted and his body was as tight as a spring. She dropped the teddy bear and stepped behind Owens, her legs quivering again. Will froze. 

"I've had enough of this nonsense. Enough of hiding and enough of games. Sam, I'll be speaking to you later about whatever you've done here. Eleven, you've disappointed me beyond reason and it's time that you rethink your behavior. Come. Now." 

"Martin, no, look it's - " 

"AM I ADDRESSING YOU?!" Brenner yelled as loud as he could at Owens and two guards came in with guns at the ready. Owens groaned and put his hands up reluctantly as Eleven trudged forward to Papa. He stared down his nose at her with... hatred? The expression looked like nothing but that. He hated her? She noticed his finger she had bit was bleeding, reminding her of that time she had picked at a hang nail on her pinky finger. She whimpered and the guards accosted her before roughly dragging her away. She screamed like she had always done every time Papa sent her away, but this time she didn't scream for him in mercy; there was no use anymore. Instead, she screamed for Dr. Owens, for Will... for Mike, even though he would never hear her.

The guards threw her into a padded cell and a nurse came up beside them, hands reaching for her. She felt her one piece sleeper being stripped from her along with her booties and soon she was naked, except for her diaper. She saw Papa standing in the doorway and she flung a hand out to use her powers, but a guard pushed her hand down and then she felt her arms being pinned behind her back. A needle struck her neck and she cried out in pain as Papa came into the cell, dismissing the guards and nurse. The door shut and the room was ringing in silence except for her ragged breathing. Papa very slowly knelt down in front of her, tilting his head slightly and projecting sympathy. 

"It's scary, isn't it? When you can't control yourself? I know babies have difficulty with controlling their emotions... I suppose you are no different. If only you'd be the good girl I wanted you to be." 

He flinched as she spat in his face. Reaching into the back pocket of his pants, he pulled out a white handkerchief and wiped his face, mouth a taut thin line. 

"I have tried everything. I gave you a second, third, fourth chance for you to obey me. To please your Papa. Yet every time you have failed me. I don't know what to do with you." 

He stood and walked slowly around her, as a predator would before striking, and she whimpered, tracking his blurry face with her teary eyes. Her head bobbed slightly as she fought the sedative and Brenner finally came to a stop in front of her and crossed his arms before speaking. 

"Here's what's going to happen as a punishment, Eleven. Since I gave you everything, I can take it all away. There will be no clothes from now on except your diapers and you won't be changed right away when you use them. No food at all for twenty four hours. You will be given milk when the twenty four hours are up and only if you cry and beg me for it. And there will be no crib, no blankets, no rattle, no Mr. Teddy Bear or Mr. Lion. By the time I'm through with punishing you, you'll be wishing for the way it was before. Perhaps then you'll finally feel some gratitude. That means you will love me. Do you understand that, Eleven? Love for your Papa? No, I don't suppose you do. You're just a very bad girl who deserves nothing I could give you." He stopped, seething, and he knew if he kept speaking, his language would get ugly and it was useless on a child who hardly knew the meaning of it anyway. Actions were better than anything right now, so Brenner went to the door and left as Eleven sat, shocked and upset. She curled into a ball, feeling the diaper hugging her waist, and she shivered in the absence of her sleeper and booties, before falling sideways and fainting from the sedative that finally kicked in fully. 

Hours passed and passed without her really knowing them. She soiled herself eventually and began to cry, banging on the door for anyone to come and change her, but no one came. Disgusted, she ripped off her diaper and put it in a corner, holding her nose at the smell of her own waste and then she angrily pounded at the padded walls, screaming until her throat scratched and her vocal cords couldn't produce any more sound. Defeated, she sank down to her knees and hid her head in her hands. 

2:00 PM

Will had yelled his fair share after Dr. Owens had been hauled away by guards and Dr. Brenner had come back into his room, hands clasped in front of his suit. 

"WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? LEAVE HER ALONE! YOU KNOW WHAT? SHE'S GOING TO GET OUT OF HERE ONE DAY AND WE'LL NEVER HAVE TO SEE YOUR STUPID OLD FACE AGAIN! I HOPE THE DEMOGORGONS ATTACK YOU AND GIVE YOU SO MUCH PAIN THAT YOU CRY AND PUKE! I HOPE THEY EAT YOUR FACE! I HOPE YOU DIE!" 

Brenner seemed unfazed at the boy's strained screams and waited for the tantrum to pass. It took several minutes, but Will finally ran out of steam, weeping and heaving. Brenner lowered a knee down and crouched at the cot, lifting his hand up in an attempt to soothe the boy. 

"Who's being a good boy? Is it you?" he cooed and Will kicked out a leg, missing Brenner by inches as he moved quickly aside.  

"You sick son of a bitch!" 

"That's not the kind of language we use around here, son." 

"Leave me alone." Will turned over and faced the wall, rubbing his wet face and Brenner was silent for a few minutes before he took one of the children's books off the side table and opened it, the hardcover spine cracking slightly. Brenner began to read softly. 

"Old MacDonald had a farm, ee-igh, ee-igh, oh!
And on that farm he had some cows..."

Will ignored him, curling his body up into a ball and pressing his cheek to the pillow. Brenner continued. 

"...with a moo-moo here and a moo-moo there. Here a moo, there a moo, everywhere a moo-moo..."

His voice was low and monotone, making Will feel somewhat groggy and he gave way to sleep. He dreamt about being with Eleven and Mike outside in the woods near Castle Byers and she began to cry, pointing behind him and he cried out, seeing a Demogorgon jump out from behind her, consuming her body whole in its toothy, ravenous jaws. Will ran to push Mike out of the way, but the monster was quicker and began to devour Mike's arm. Will ran away off into the dark forest and he kept going until he slipped on a wet patch of moss and he felt himself falling fast into darkness. He struggled to wake himself up from the nightmare, but his body felt paralyzed and he tried to speak, yet his mouth felt fixed shut. He focused hard to move his muscles, his feet - anything - and finally his body jolted and he just about fell off the cot. Grasping at the thin sheets, Will looked around and saw that the entire room was bathed in a dark blueish light, spores drifting lazily by and black tendrils plastered to the walls, ensnaring around the door handle and window frame. 

Oh, no. Not the Upside Down. No, not now! 

Will closed his eyes and opened them again, hoping it would all disappear, but it didn't. His breath came in short gasps and his head began to ache as the goosebumps crawled up from his skin. He went to the window to look outside, but what he saw through the trees made him jump back before he craned his neck and stared upward, seeing the head of a stalking large dark figure at the top of the trees... it was a cloudy spider at best, lurking outside Hawkins Lab in the forest. Will felt paralyzed again as it moved closer, going right through the trees as though they were mere apparitions. Its head - or whatever it was - came right up to the glass of his window and even though it didn't have any eyes, Will swore it was staring right through him. His body broke out in a cold sweat as a black tendril reached for his face. More began to seep into the room, coming down from the ceiling and through the walls, engulfing Will in a swirling swarm of darkness. He opened his mouth to scream, but he never had the chance to as the darkness shot right into his face and the words of protest were drowned out and confined to only in his head. 

GO AWAY! LEAVE ME ALONE! NO! NO! NO! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Elsewhere, Dr. Brenner stood in front of a panel of screens showing security footage of Hawkins Lab, including the room Will Byers was housed in. 

"His condition is getting worse," Brenner commented as he watched the standing boy, who seemed to have some sort of sleepwalking episode prior, start to seize by the window in the empty room. The screen became grainier. 

"And I wonder why that's not shocking," Owens, handcuffed and confined to a chair several feet behind his colleague, remarked sarcastically. Brenner faced him and raised his eyebrows. 

"It's not like we expected him to get better, isn't that right?"

"We were supposed to help him." 

"We can't stop it. He's too far gone."

"How can you be so sure?! We don't know what all of this even is and what it does to a survivor! There are no instructions on how to cure that boy, no manual to this alternate dimension! Or did I miss that class in med school?!" Owens exclaimed in exasperation. Brenner turned back to the camera footage, noticing the screens flickering and becoming even grainier. Abruptly, the screen showing Will's room blanked out to black and Owens strained against his restraints. 

"Why did it just do that? Get that camera back on!" 

"I don't know..." Brenner murmured as he scanned the rest of the screens, all of which were playing normally. As he reached for a button, the footage of the boy's room came back on and Will was shown to be still standing, now completely stationary, before Brenner watched him go to the cot and lie down. 

"It must have just been a glitch, but I'll send someone in to check on him. And Sam, I think you might be right for once; we don't know everything, but it's never too late to find out." 

Brenner exited, letting the door slam behind him in finality. 

Chapter Text

October 12, 1984 8:00 AM

HNL

"Can you tell me what happened last night?" Dr. Brenner asked of the boy for the third time, but no charm as Will Byers kept his eyes downcast and knees tucked up defensively to his chest, silent as a grave.

"I can't help you if you don't talk to me," Brenner reminded him, also for the third time, as he shifted in the chair and uncrossed his legs, leaning forward and clutching the notepad in his hands. The boy sat undisturbed and still on his cot, his quiet breathing the only sign of life coming from him. A couple minutes passed and then Brenner stood up, swiftly crossing over to the door and opening it. Sam Owens stood right outside in the hall with a tired, anxious face after not being allowed much sleep. 

"Well?" he demanded and Brenner passed the notepad off to him. 

"Your turn."

Owens sighed and walked into the room, shutting the door with a snap behind him and taking the empty seat across Will.  

"Getting awfully tired of doing this, Sir Will. You want to finally tell me what's going on with you?" 

His questions were met with defiant silence and he adjusted his weight in the chair, sitting back in an attempt to relax. If he projected the image of ease, perhaps the boy would pick up on it and be more willing to open up. Unlike Martin, he was a little better at a bedside manner. 

"I know that whenever I happen to feel under the weather, I feel like just laying on the couch all day and I don't want to talk much to anyone. Can you believe that, me being as quiet as you? I know, it sounds far fetched, but when you feel lousy, you're not like your usual self. Do you think you might be feeling a little out of sorts?" 

Will's fingers twitched slightly. 

"Do you want to lie down for awhile? I'll come back later; I've got all day kiddo. Well, at least until five o'clock when I have to get home for dinner. It's meatloaf night, so I can't miss it." He thread a smile through the sentence, keeping his tone fairly light and casual. 

Will glanced up for a fraction of a second, expressionless. 

"Sound good?" Owens asked, getting up and Will suddenly reached out, snatching onto his white coat sleeve. Owens paused and stared down at him as Will spoke, his voice sounding small and timid. 

"You'll come back?" 

"Of course I will," Owens assured him and Will let go of him, looking back down at the floor. 

"No one else," he said flatly. 

"... Alright, then. Just me," Owens replied after a pause and he left the room, meeting his colleague out in the hall and Brenner noticed the blank notepad. 

"No luck?" 

"Not what you want at the moment. I told him I'll come back later."

"Why would you do that?" Brenner questioned with the air of interrogation.

"It's called being nice, something you could try being for once to him. He needs rest for a bit because I think he might be feeling sick, though there are no outward signs of any kind of infection, his temperature reading was a little bit below average, but nothing too concerning, his blood results came back normal..."

Brenner ignored the stats on the boy, still caught up on the comment prior about him being unfriendly. That snipped at a nerve in him, but he wouldn't let it show as he strode down the hall, Owens following him to the break room. 

"I am nice." Brenner grabbed a pot of tea and slid a cup across the table while Owens grabbed the coffee pot. 

"Eleven might disagree with that. What did you do with her this time, anyway?" 

"She's in solitary confinement for the time being until she learns to behave and cooperate with me." 

"And what if she won't? Your method isn't working and her abilities are not regressing like the rest of her; I would predict that she's only going to get stronger the older she gets. And then what do we do?"

Brenner scowled at his tea brewing while Owens poured a cup of black coffee.

"Eleven will learn to control herself," Brenner stated and Owens tried not to laugh bitterly. 

"She can barely control her bladder, Martin." 

Brenner squeezed his mug for tea so hard he could have shattered it and he took careful breaths to steady his anger.   

"It's only temporary." 

"That's what you said six months ago and she's still in diapers. Don't you get tired of changing them?" 

"Of course, but she needs it." 

Owens shook his head, scoffing with a smirk. 

"No, she doesn't. You're the one who put her in them in the first place and made her believe she needed it."

Brenner was so done with this conversation, but he kept it civil, mostly because of the other staff in the room. If it was just the two of them, he would escalate this to a yelling match. 

"It doesn't matter how bad her incontinence is because what's more important is that she needs to listen to me and understand what I'm trying to do here."

"Let me have a crack at her, she usually listens to me."

"Stay away from her!" Brenner snapped loudly and a few heads turned their way. Owens backed off and focused on his coffee. 

"Just tell me she's safe. That's all I ask," he stated quietly. 

"She's safe. I'm going down to see her in a few minutes." He fished out the tea bag and pinched the tag hanging from the string off while Owens stirred his coffee. Brenner gave his colleague's hot drink a look of disdain, having the sudden desire take it and throw all over Sam's clothes, but he chose walk out of the room instead, sipping on his tea while he made his way through the labyrinth of hallways. There wasn't a security camera in the solitary confinement cell Eleven was in, so he had no way of knowing how she was doing, but he did have a guard go in earlier this morning and he came out complaining of the foul stench of excrement and a nurse was sent in to remove the waste and put a new diaper on Eleven.

Brenner reached the room and passed off his mug to the guard and opened the door, the light flickering on as he stepped inside, observing the girl in the middle of the padded cell, seated cross legged on the floor.

"Hello, Eleven."

He came forward a few paces and she looked up, her eyes rimmed red in upset and his nose caught the potent scent of urine. He could tell her diaper was very wet. 

"Did you have an accident?" 

She whimpered and scooted away into a corner as he prowled closer. 

"Do you need Papa's help?" He knelt down to her eye level. 

"No," she whispered with a pathetic sniffle and her hands went to the diaper, attempting to rip it off, but he grabbed her arms and pinned them up behind her head. She let out a groan of frustration and struggled, kicking her legs.   

"Do you want to be changed? I'll only change you if you cry for me. Hm?"

She twisted her body and her foot struck his knee, and he let go to lean back. Her breath came in gasps and he shook his head sadly at her.

"I'm not mad anymore, Eleven, but I can only take care of you if you use your voice. You want milk, don't you?"

She felt like she was starving and getting out of this cell would be better than anything. 

"Papa..." she whined.

"Papa, please," she begged and he smiled, but stood up and began to leave. 

"Papa! Papa! Papa! Papa! Papa!" she cried repeatedly and he stopped, swiveling around. Satisfaction swelled inside him and his toothy grin widened. He lifted his chin up and stared down at her. 

"And what is it that you want from Papa?" 

He could see her biting back her tongue and her face wrestling with her emotions. Finally, she relented. 

"C-Change. And milk. Milk! Papaaaaa..." she dragged out his name, hoping to sound annoying and it did the trick; he held up a hand to stop her.

"That's very good." He helped her up to her feet and she walked out of the cell with him, clutching tightly to his hand and cringing at the soggy feeling between her legs. She was relieved when they made it to the bathroom and he laid her down on a towel on the floor. She stared up at him, his head and face in shadow, eclipsing the blinding ceiling light as he pulled on white latex gloves and opened up a supply cabinet off to her right. Leaning down, he gently tore off her soiled diaper and folded it up, tossing it in the trashcan by the door. Taking a wipe, he smoothly cleaned around her private area and she winced at the coolness before he took a fresh diaper, patted some powder in it, and then slid it under her bottom, fastening it closed around her. He smiled faintly and she sat up, the diaper riding up on her stomach, crinkling noisily, and her tummy suddenly grumbled loudly.  

"Hungry," she told Papa and he peeled the gloves off, disposing of them. 

"I know that," he replied shortly and she ducked her head at the blatant irritation. Was he still mad at her? She was trying to do everything he wanted. She had cried for him, had she not?

"Let's get you your bottle. Stay," he commanded, standing up and pushing a hand down on her head as though she were an unruly puppy. She waited patiently, hugging her bare body in a defensive posture, until he came back with the milk bottle clasped in his left hand. He sat down on the floor and shook the it up, making her stomach gurgle again as she watched the swirling white liquid splash up against the clear plastic. 

"Come here." He patted his lap and she crawled over, sitting on his gray pants and he tipped the bottle towards her mouth. She drank greedily until it was there was nothing left, just the clearness of the bottle. Unsatisfied, she whined a little as he set the empty bottle aside on the floor. 

"Food?" she asked, aching for more.  

"That was your food." 

She shook her head in disbelief.  

"Potato?" 

"It's not dinnertime." 

"Banana?" She made a hopeful face, remembering the name of the mushy yellow, and expecting Papa to at least feed her that. 

"No." 

Her hopes dashed and she felt confused. 

"Why?" she dared to ask and regretted it as soon as she saw his face morph into obvious anger. He always hated it when she asked that question.  

"I told you, don't you remember? NO food, only milk."

This was reminding her of the time when he had her wrapped in blankets and relying on bottles every day. She hoped he wouldn't be doing that again... but at least that had been somewhat better than being in only a diaper and nothing else to keep warm in. 

"Are you sorry?" he inquired suddenly and she frowned. 

"Sorry...?" 

"Yes. I think I deserve an apology for yesterday's behavior." 

She didn't know what to say, so she stared blankly at him. 

"Do you understand?" He sounded more annoyed now and she nervously glanced down, playing with the tip of his silky gray tie. He pried her fingers off and grabbed her chin, forcing her face up. She did feel bad about yesterday, but not because of what she did (although she was haunted by her action of biting his finger). Eleven's eyes darted to his other hand and she saw a tan bandage wrapped around the spot she had sank her teeth into. A twinge of guilt hit her, but she shoved it aside. She felt worse about not protecting Will and the way Papa had treated her. He should be sorry. 

"No... sorry. No."

"That's too bad." He cradled her, picking her up and she felt a surge of affection. Maybe he was taking her back to her room where she'd get to wear her comfy clothes again? She didn't like being in just a diaper and nothing else; it felt too weird. Papa walked out of the bathroom and carried her back down the hall and she saw the cell again up ahead. 

"Papa?" She squirmed in his grip and he huffed, making an effort to try and hold onto her. A guard at the door stepped forward and Papa passed her off to him. 

"No! NO! Please! NO! PAPA! PAPA!" The guard tossed her inside and slammed the door. Brenner kept his jaw set, no remorse, hearing her muffled screams trail him as his shoes went clopping away from the room.

12:00 PM

Will sat up from lying stiffly on his back on the cot as a brunette middle aged nurse came into the room with a greenish blue colored tray of cafeteria-grade food in her hands. She smiled faintly and offered it out to him as he swung his legs and landed his bare feet on the floor. 

"I'm not hungry," he told her in a dull voice. 

"You don't have to eat all of it, just enough to get some in your system." 

Several seconds passed in awkward silence before he spoke in an unnatural, even duller voice.

"I do not want it."

His eyes jumped up to meet hers. Her breath caught slightly in her throat and she almost wanted to take a step back at the very dark soulless eyes drilling back into hers. His face was one she'd never seen on a boy before; it was if he wanted to kill her. She had worked in a couple of psychiatric hospitals before this around disturbed, potentially violent adult patients and her training and experience with them taught her it was best not to provoke them and wear a kind face, so she forced another smile with tremendous effort.  

"How about I just leave it over here?" She started to move the tray to set it down on his bedside table. All at once, the lights in the room flickered and he swiped out a hand, abruptly knocking the tray forcefully out of her hands as she gasped. The food plopped to the floor and a cup of juice spilled, rolling under the cot. 

"GET OUT! GET OUT! GO AWAY! STAY AWAY FROM ME!" he screamed at the top of his lungs and she stumbled backwards, hands feeling for the doorknob. He threw his body off the bed and hurtled towards her in a blurry rush of fury and she flung herself out of the room just in time, shutting the door as hard as she could and locking it. Breathless, she hurried off down the hall, repeatedly glancing over her shoulder, to find Dr. Owens, who thankfully wasn't very far away, standing in conversation with a huddle of scientists outside the conference room. 

"Doctor!" she called out in almost a shriek and he looked over at her, stepping aside from the group.  

"What is it?" 

"Come quick, it-it's the patient."

He rushed after her down the hall and to Will's room. He went to the door to see it locked and he glanced back at her. She had stopped several feet away, hanging back with a creased forehead in fear. Owens looked from her to the closed door. It was dead silent inside. 

"What's wrong? Why aren't you coming?" 

She shook her head, pointing.  

"H-He threw the tray of food to the floor and screamed at me to leave. He tried to attack me and his-his eyes, they weren't human, so dark, so..." She swallowed and Owens put up a hand.  

"Okay, okay. Stay back where you are, I'll handle this." 

He rapped on the door with his knuckles.

"Will, it's me, Dr. Owens. Is it okay if I come in?" 

He flinched as a solid thunk of a fist hit the door from inside the room and Will yelled out something unintelligible. 

"Will, calm down and stop this behavior right now or I'm going to have to get reinforcements."

"WHO ARE YOU?" The boy's voice hollered from inside and more pounds hit the door. 

Owens glanced over his shoulder and felt a little relief to see a couple guards come up the hall and he mouthed at them to stay back for now. Gathering his composure, he called back to Will. 

"I'm Dr. Owens, remember? I saw you this morning and I promised I'd come back before five o'clock. I told you I'm having meatloaf for dinner tonight and I'd like to not be late." 

He waited, but there was no response. 

"Will, please." 

A minute passed and he pressed an ear to the door, now hearing faint strangled sobbing. 

"Will?" Owens asked in concern, and he gradually unlocked the door, pushing it open to see the boy curled on the floor, rocking back and forth with his head in his hands. He glanced up with sad, watery brown eyes and a crumpled face. 

"Oh... Okay, Will. What's going on?" Owens asked softly, cautiously kneeling down and Will choked out a wet, racking sob. 

"Help me," he whispered in a strained voice.

Owens reached over and put a hand on the boy's shoulder. 

"How can I help? Are you hurting?" 

"I... don't know. I-I I'm scared." 

Owens carefully helped him up and to the cot, attempting to shush his noisy crying. He pulled up the chair and kept a hand on Will as the nurse hovered by the door. She asked if she should go get Dr. Brenner, but Owens waved her away. 

"No, but bring me a notepad."

He rubbed Will's arm in an attempt of comfort as the boy shuddered and hiccuped. The nurse came back a minute later with a notepad and pen and handed it to the doctor. He thanked her and she stepped out, closing the door.  

"Will, what's scaring you?" Owens asked gently, clicking the pen and making note of the date and time on the pad of paper. It took Will a couple minutes to calm down and Owens encouraged him to take deep breaths, which he did shakily. 

"I-I don't know how to explain." 

"That's okay. Just do the best you can. Do you want to talk about what happened last night?" 

Will's eyes widened and his mouth went agape. 

"I... forgot. That's why I couldn't tell you earlier," he admitted almost in wonder at his own realization and Owens raised his eyebrows.

"Well, do you remember now? Think hard."

Will focused and brief snippets of memory flashed back to him and his body tensed. 

"It was last night. I... fell asleep and when I woke up, I couldn't move." 

"Couldn't move? What do you mean?" Owens asked, starting to jot down on the paper. 

"Like my limbs were frozen, like my body was frozen, and no matter how hard I tried to wake up, I couldn't move. I was stuck waking up." 

"You felt paralyzed?" 

"Y-yes. I was frozen." He shuddered and Owens nodded. 

"And how long did this feeling last? A few seconds, a minute?" 

"I don't know, maybe a minute or two? I forced my body to move and then I think I fell off the bed." 

"Then what happened?" 

"I had a nightmare before this happened." 

"A nightmare? Can you tell me what it was about? Is that what has been scaring you?" 

"It was about Mike." 

"Your friend Mike?" 

"Yes." Will didn't want to mention Eleven in case she got in trouble or was blamed for this somehow.

"Okay. So what was Mike doing and how did this become a nightmare?" 

"We were in the woods and the Demogorgon jumped out. It started to attack him, to eat him. I ran and I kept running until I fell into darkness. That's when I woke up, unable to move."

"How was your breathing? Did you feel like you couldn't breathe, as though there was a pressure on your chest while you felt paralyzed?" 

"No, not really. My mouth just felt tight and I couldn't open it, like it was glued shut." 

"And do you remember what happened after you fell out onto the floor?" 

Will hesitated, grappling with his memory, and wondering if Owens would believe it.

"I-I was back there. It was all over this room..."

"Back where?" 

"The Upside Down, just like it was before, but then I saw something else. Something... different." 

"From the Upside Down?" 

"Yes." 

Will didn't say anything more and Owens sighed, turning a page over and clicking his pen again before looking up at his patient. 

"You have to tell me. I won't judge whatever you think you saw and we've talked about these visions before. PTSD is normal given your past circumstances." 

"This wasn't in my head," Will insisted, upset that Owens was almost preliminary denying his experience. 

"Right, of course. So what happened?" He didn't mean it sarcastically and regretted saying anything; he should just let the kid talk. Will took a minute before he spoke, pointing vaguely around the room. 

"The Upside Down was here, in this room... It was like I was back there again, but this wasn't just a vision. There was a monster - " 

"One of our so-called Demogorgons?" 

"No. This was different, darker. It came through the window and it was huge, big as a tree, and it arched over like a giant spider. Its arms or legs came through the walls and its head came to me at the window." 

"It came through the window?" Owens was unable to disguise the doubt as he glanced at the solid glass pane and plain walls. 

"I'm serious." 

"I know. Now tell me what happened next." 

"It came to me... it-it went into m-me," Will wavered and his voice broke. His hands trembled and Owens pitched forward slightly in interest. 

"Into you? Can you explain what that means exactly?" 

"I was frozen again. Not just from fear; I was actually stuck as this thing - this monster - came into my face and I think it-it wanted me, wanted to... consume me. I couldn't stop it and it's still here," Will whimpered and Owens glanced around the perfectly normal appearing room. 

"And this monster was physical looking to you?" 

"No, it... it was like, like, um... I-I dunno, like a cloudy shadow. A huge shadow monster with no face." Will flinched suddenly and clutched his neck, fingernails digging into his skin. Owens watched him warily and then gingerly clicked the pen closed in conclusion.

"Anything else? What happened after it went into you?" 

"I-I can't remember." Will brought his knees up and huddled on the cot. Owens took a breath, standing up before speaking to him. 

"Alright... so here's what's gonna happen: I want you to rest a little bit, I'll get you some water, and we'll run some tests later and then - "

"Wait, I can draw it!" Will exclaimed and Owens paused, sitting back down as Will feverishly ripped a page off of his notepad and grabbed Owens' pen. He scrawled a spidery shape, overarching and drew many black scribbles around it, filling up the whole page with black ink and then drawing a tiny figure wearing a hospital gown and having little pinpricks of hair on top of his head, standing in front of the androgynous mass. Will took the pen and punctured a hole straight through the head of his figure. Owens seemed mildly disturbed as Will handed him the drawing and his pen back.

"THAT'S what happened to me and it's not going away. I-I can feel it inside me, inside here." He tapped his head and Owens grimaced in worry.

"I... I'm struggling to control it, but I... I'm scared because I d-don't know... when it'll come back and I'm gone again." Will sniffed through his faltering voice and Owens kept his eyes downcast on the drawing. He stood up and hesitated before extending his free hand out to the boy. 

"Come with me, Will." 

Will didn't move. 

"It's alright."

Will accepted his hand and let Owens lead him out of the room. The nurse passed them to go clean up the mess of food on the floor and she stared at him. He could see the wide-eyed fear radiating from her. 

She thinks I'm a monster and maybe now I am.

Owens kept a tight hold on his hand, perhaps afraid he would lose it and run off, and they walked into an exam room. Will sat down on the routine crispy white tissue paper as Owens left to come back with a couple more doctors and a technician. They were expressionless as they took the boy's vitals and then laid him down, beginning to set up equipment. 

"Do you know what an electroencephalogram or EEG is, Sir Will?" Owens asked from by the door.

Will felt the monster inside him threatening to take over and he gripped the sides of the table and began to sweat. The technician was affixing the sticky electrodes on his scalp and wiring him up to a machine. 

"Um, it's what's being done to me right now?" His voice sounded so shaky and his heart was thudding so hard, he was sure everyone in the small room could hear it. 

"Precisely. That is what is going to happen in the next few minutes. Now how about Magnetic Resonance Imaging or MRI? Have you ever had that done before?"

Will shook his head at the unfamiliar words and he gritted his teeth against the bubbling feeling of losing control over himself... his body trembled and he tried not to piss himself.  

"That's going to happen later and it's a modern technique of being able to look inside your body and brain using powerful, but harmless, magnetism and radio waves, and computer generated imagery will produce three dimensional, detailed anatomical images of your organs. In fact, the magnetic field actually temporarily realigns water molecules in your body and..."

Owens droned on and Will could care less as he felt the sharp prick of a needle in his arm. A few moments later, he felt very fatigued and he let darkness take him into sleep. Owens gave a nod of approval to the staff and then walked out to go track down his colleague in his office, who no doubt would be very intrigued by this new information he had gleaned. 

2:00 PM

Jim Hopper rolled up to the checkpoint and subsequently rolled down his window to greet the uniformed, gruff looking balding man at the booth. He recognized the Chief with a slight sneer and put up a hand.

"I've got orders from up top not to let you through."

"How about just a quick look? You know, I thought I'd see the sights, snap a few photos, observe the wildlife..." Hopper told him with a smirk. 

"This isn't a national park." 

"What about a day pass?" 

"You're a funny one. Wouldn't you know I used to patrol up in Yellowstone?" 

"See a lot of bears up there?" 

"Oh yeah. I'm missing my left leg because this mama grizzly ripped it clean off one summer." 

"Nah, really?!" Hopper leaned out the window and looked down at the man's clearly two intact legs. He heard a burst of laughter from the guard and he slowly sat back up.  

"Just pulling your leg, Chief! Get it? Leg?" He wheezed and slapped a meaty hand down on the counter in the booth and Hopper smiled tightly. 

"I got ya good on that one! Haw, that's the first laugh I've had all week." He chortled some more and Hopper gruffly chuckled along with him, even though he wasn't amused. Once the man had calmed down, his stern face emerged back as if he just remembered what they were doing prior. 

"So what's your business here?" 

"I've got an appointment with the good doctor himself," Hopper improvised with a sly smile and the guard looked skeptical. 

"What's your name?" Hopper asked, peering at the name tag on his uniform, which read the last name of Connor. 

"I'm Barry. What's it to you, anyway?" He reached for his radio and pressed a button. 

"Like the bear." 

"What?" 

"Bear. Bear-y. You'd make a good one, too." 

The radio crackled with a voice, but the guard barely noticed. Barry Conner stared at Hopper for a full ten seconds and then spurted out raucous laughter. 

"Gotta give ya more respect, Chief. Didn't know you were such a comedian!" 

"Yeah, I just left my clown nose at home."

Still chuckling, Barry sobered up and addressed the male voice on the other end of the radio. He stepped away from the booth and Hopper waited, striking up a cigarette and flicking ash out the window. Barry came back a moment later with a surprised expression. 

"Guess today's your lucky day, Chief. Go on through." 

"Alright, thanks, Barry. Watch out for Barry eating bears."

The man laughed again and the checkpoint barrier lifted up and Hopper rolled on through into the parking lot, rumbling into an empty space near the front. He left the cab, dropping his hat onto his head and trekking up to the entrance of Hawkins Lab. He went straight to the receptionist desk and grinned at the lady behind the counter. She actually was kind of cute. He removed his hat and shot a (what he hoped) was a suave grin at her. 

"I'm here to see a certain Will Byers."

"Dr. Owens is expecting you," she answered with a dimpled smile and Hopper kept his eyes on her without replying. Who would have thought Hawkins Lab could hire such a woman and he wondered if he should ask for her number after this, but then reality gut punched him as he saw a shiny wedding band on her hand. His interest fizzled out and he put his hat back on. 

"Have a nice day," she told him as he nodded, striding away. Of course she had to be married. Of course.

Dr. Owens met him shortly in the hall and Hopper instantly forgot about his lacking mess of a love life and focused on what was a thousand times far more important right now. 

"Hey, how's it going, Doc? I want to see Will." 

"Don't we all?" Owens muttered unhappily and then directed Hopper away to his office. 

"Didn't know you kept patients in your office," Hopper remarked, pulling out a chair. 

"Only if they happen to be wearing suits and ties." 

"Does a police uniform count?" Hopper chuckled. 

"You're in a good mood today, Chief-O. Wish I could say the same for myself." 

Hopper took a seat and Owens deposited himself with a heavy sigh across from him at his desk and fiddled with his cup of pens and pencils. Will's drawing lay in front of him and a sheet of paper detailing the boy's vitals.

"So where is he?" Hopper demanded, forgoing the chivalry he had left, but Owens wasn't intimidated in the least. 

"He's currently undergoing an MRI and brain scans. We had an... uh, incident earlier this afternoon and I fear he may have developed a neurological condition." 

Hopper sat up, full attention on the doctor. 

"What the hell do you mean by that?" 

"It started last night with what appeared to be an... let's call it an episode. As you know, Will has complained of nightmares and these visions that I would chalk up to PTSD from his time in that place." 

"Right." 

"So what we've observed on the CCTV footage from last night was the fact that Will went through some kind of waking episode and when I talked to him a little while ago, he gave me a somewhat detailed account of his experience, beginning with a nightmare about what he calls the Upside Down and the Demogorgon creature attacking his friend and coming after him. Nothing overly concerning, right? But that's not what I'm worried about; what is more of interest is his sleep paralysis afterwards when he tried to wake up from this dream." 

"Sleep paralysis?"

"Yep. It tends to occur when the body is coming out of a state of normal paralysis during REM sleep and there is a brief loss of muscle control - this is known as atonia and it's natural during deep sleep - but when a person regains consciousness before they are fully awake, that's when it occurs and it has been reported that people, in their increased state of alarm and fear during such an event, can have tactile hallucinations or chest pressure, any number of sensations like that."

Hopper just grunted.

"So following his episode of what's safe to say was sleep paralysis, Will claims to have had, at least to him, a realistic hallucination of some kind of a large spider-like shadow monster that came into his room through the walls and window. This is his drawing of what he claims to have seen." 

Owens pushed forth the ripped notepad paper full of scribbled ink and Hopper put his finger down on it, tracing the outline of the black figure. It was no Demogorgon, that was certain.

"Maybe he's seeing this and having this sleep problem because, oh I don't know, he was kidnapped and taken to this Lab and you're scaring the shit outta him? You're making his PTSD worse," Hopper suggested. 

"I know why you'd think that, but this isn't like that. Will has never even seen this vision before and he was terrified and crying when I found him. He couldn't remember me at first and he's not acting normal; he lashed out at a nurse earlier when she just tried to bring him food. Unprovoked outbursts and memory loss are signs of abnormality in the brain."

"But he remembered what happened enough to draw it and Will isn't the type to bullshit. He can't be making this up and I know you're thinking he's crazy, but I thought Joyce was crazy until we discovered this whole other world. Whatever this isn't out of the realm of possibility," Hopper pointed out and Owens acknowledged this with a nod.

"Right. But we have physical evidence of everything else, not this thing. No one has documented this before and believe me, we're poking around deep. If it's something that has happened or is happening internally to Will, the brain scans should be able to tell us more, hopefully, about his neurological condition."  

Owens paused and gave Hopper a stern look. 

"Can I trust you to keep this confidential between the two of us, Chief?" 

"What about Joyce, the boy's own mother? You're just gonna keep her in the dark about her son suffering?" 

"Now, I'm not saying that, but I just don't think it would be a good idea because, well you know - " 

"Because she'll come in here with the force of a tornado and give you a piece of her mind for all the screwing around you and your buddy Brenner have done to our kids? Because that's what a good mom does; she actually gives a shit about her kid and does whatever she can to protect him no matter what. You have a problem with that, Doc?" 

Owens appeared sheepish and plucked Will's drawing out from Hopper's fingers. He thought it would be best to divert the subject somewhat. 

"You haven't heard any complaints in town, have you?" 

"About what?" 

"Anything... pertaining to what we have been attempting to contain here." 

Hopper eyed him suspiciously and rubbed his beard.  

"Nah, not anything that's going to be concerning to you besides that girl Barbara who died last year and her parents have hired a private investigator to look into the circumstances around her death." 

If that was concerning to Owens, he didn't show it. 

"Oh, I'll get somebody on that and we'll bring peace to those parents." 

"A cover-up is peace?" 

"We both know the truth can be an unbearable pill to swallow," Owens told him with meaningfulness and Hopper made a non-committal noise, glancing away. The doctor checked his watch.

"I'll let you come by tomorrow and take Joyce with ya. How does that sound?"

"That sounds great." Hopper casually rifled in his jacket pocket for a cigarette and lighter as Owens began to bid him goodbye, standing up. In one swift motion, Hopper lit his cigarette and then dropped it under the desk into the wastebin full of discarded papers.

"Aw, shit!" he exclaimed, bending down as the fire began to spread, licking the tips of the paperwork, and Owens stooped down to look. In his moment of distraction, Hopper swiped the drawing off the top of the desk and folded it quickly, tucking it into his jacket. Owens grabbed the remainder of his second cup of coffee of the day and splashed it onto the small flames. Hopper stood up, moving the lighter to his pocket. 

"Sorry about that, Doc. I just did that last week at the station; Flo says I have butterfingers." 

After that, Owens was in no state to let him stay and hurried him out to the lobby, where Hopper casually strode by the cute married secretary, tipping his hat and heading outside, hoping to hell Owens hadn't suspected a thing. He'd notice soon enough that the drawing was missing, but not before Hopper had a chance to get it to Joyce. 

2:30 PM

BYERS HOUSE, HAWKINS INDIANA

Joyce heard the familiar grumble of Hopper's truck and she flung open her front door before any agent could stop her, and ran to him as he stepped out onto the grass. 

"Hopper! Where the HELL have YOU been?! I've been calling you multiple times for the past week! I swear to God, if this is about Diane or some drinking binge you've got going on, I will - "

"Joyce."

She sputtered out and stared at him with stress and anxiety hijacking her features and there were deep dark circles under her eyes. He wanted to pull her into a hug, but she crossed her arms and he felt the invisible boundary between them. Sighing, he let his hat hang at his side and he leaned against the truck. 

"They bugged my place and my phone crapped out," he told her simply and she rolled her eyes. 

"You think that's bad? I've been under constant surveillance by strangers in my own home!" 

Hopper looked over her head and saw suited men standing in the doorway and the couple sedans parked haphazardly on the grass by his truck. 

"Is this why I haven't seen you anywhere in town, not even at Melvald's?" 

"They wouldn't let me leave. Jonathan is able to go out and he's been getting groceries, but I'm living a goddamn lie, Hop. A LIE!" 

"What lie, Joyce?" 

She ran her hands through her disheveled hair that hadn't been brushed in days and decided to just spit it out. 

"I've been telling everyone I know personally that Will has cancer and is being seen by 'specialists' at the government subsidized 'hospital' down the road. They TOOK him, Hop!" 

Hopper felt like he'd had another gut punch, but this hit way harder than some fleeting interest in a married secretary. He struggled to keep his emotions in check as Joyce explained. 

"Donald was nice enough to give me a day off, but I haven't been able to show up to work because I'm trapped here, and yesterday he called me to warn me that he'll have to lay me off if I don't show up next week. And before you ask, Karen knows about this, Claudia knows, Lucas's parents, and Bob - well, kind of. I lied a bit by just saying Will is sick with a bad virus and it's contagious, but he's been calling me every day threatening to come over armed with cans of chicken noodle soup." Joyce laughed weakly and shook her head. Hopper wasn't amused by anything. 

"You were told to say he had cancer and you ran with it?" 

"They... they put a gun to my head, Hop." She bit back tears and he felt his blood boil.  

He was going to wring Owens' neck for this one - and Brenner's if he got the chance, although there was much, much more he wanted to inflict on that bastard - and he wished he could shoot every agent on this property on the spot right now. 

Cancer. Just like Sara. Of course they pick that, more goddamn salt in the festering wound. If this wasn't the biggest kick in the ass and rub at me because of my daughter, I don't know what...

No. Think of Will. Will. He's why you're here. 

Hopper reached in his jacket and removed the creased drawing out to present to Joyce. Frowning, she accepted it. 

"What's... is this Will's?" she gasped, running her fingers along every ink line and he smiled. 

"You ever seen him draw something like that before?" 

She shook her head and squinted, turning it around in her hands, studying it from every angle. He joined her at her side and overlooked it again with her.  

"No... what is it even supposed to be? A giant spider? Is this from his game?" 

"According to Doc Owens, that's a hallucination Will had last night." 

"A hallucination? What are they doing to him, giving him drugs?!" 

"No, it's a vision. A nightmare come to life I think and Owens thinks he has a brain disorder of course..." 

"What?" 

Hopper paused, considering. 

"Joyce, has Will ever slept-walked or had paralysis upon waking up?" 

Joyce was alarmed. 

"N-No, no, I mean he had one instance of sleepwalking when he was about six and Lonnie caught him out in the backyard at two in the morning muttering to himself with his pants down."

"Seriously?" 

"True story, but what does that have to do with anything? Besides, that was years ago and lots of kids sleepwalk. I read they grow out of it! What he does have are nightmares about that place since last year and wouldn't anyone? Maybe this is just some kind of manifestation of them?" 

"What if this is real? Not his imagination." 

"What? But-but it can't be; it's not one of those monsters." 

"Yeah, but what if this is different or worse and Will is connecting with it for some reason?" 

"He wouldn't, no, he..."

"We don't know everything about this place, Joyce. We've just discovered the tip of the iceberg I think," Hopper reminded her and she bit her lip, fretting. 

They were so absorbed in their discussion, neither noticed the two agents coming up from behind them and before Joyce could react, the paper was snatched from her hands by a man and arms wrapped around her.  

"Hey! No! Stop! Let me go! Give me that!" Joyce screamed as she was dragged away back to the house. She yelled for Hopper as he ran towards her. 

"Joyce, remember it! Try to remember the dra- " Hopper broke off mid sentence as he was clocked upside the head by the butt of a gun and he dropped to the ground, out cold. 

Chapter Text

October 13, 1984 9:30 AM

HAWKINS NATIONAL LABORATORY, HAWKINS INDIANA

Hopper groaned, rolling over onto his back on the hard concrete floor. 

"Good, you're awake. How are ya feeling?" Dr. Owens came walking in briskly to stand next to him. Hopper's head throbbed and once again, he had found himself on the wrong end of the government and this effing lab. At this rate, he'd never have to drink multiple cans of beer again; Hawkins Lab was giving him a hangover just as bad.

"How many times I'mma gonna have to go through this bullshit," Hopper murmured and hauled himself up to his feet, wincing in pain and swearing as he felt the egg size bump on his scalp. He staggered towards Owens, determined to make good on his promise to wring this guy's neck, although a swift punch to the face would suffice (he wasn't in the mood, nor had the energy, to strangle). Owens yelled in shock, taking the blow of Hopper's fist and collapsing against the wall.

"Jesus Christ, what the hell was that for?!" 

"I really gotta explain it to you?" Hopper panted, rubbing his forehead. 

"Alright, so maybe I deserved that in some minor capacity," Owens admitted begrudgingly, holding his face, and Hopper scoffed.

"Nah, how about in some big ass capacity. Big as the state of Indiana!" Hopper guffawed roughly, but Owens was far from amused. 

"If it weren't for me, you'd be in a lot worse shape - electric shock shape - right now!"

"Fair point. You know..." Hopper paused and Owens eyed him suspiciously before Hopper grimaced at him.

"You doctors. Making a living off of other people's pain and suffering." 

"No, making a difference in people's lives and trying to help them the best way possible with the medicine and technology that we have available!" Owens argued heatedly and Hopper held up his hands in mock surrender. 

"Then why do our little encounters always end with me in pain? What're gonna do, prescribe me a Tylenol?"

"I'm not in the business of making your life miserable, Chief, but it's clear you cannot be trusted and that's a damn shame. If you had just listened to me and not pulled this foolish stunt that only gets you in more trouble, then you wouldn't be in this situation."

"Let's skip the lecture and just tell me where Joyce is!" Hopper exclaimed, raising his fist again and Owens took a unsteady step back.

"She's at home and I've let her have a choice. She can choose to remain there under the watch of our men or she can stay here with her son for the foreseeable future." 

"Has she made a choice yet?"

"No. She insisted she wanted to talk to you first, so the moment you feel up to it, I'm letting you go. It'll be up to you if you want to accompany her and remain here, you are welcome to." 

"I can't, I've got a job to do around town. If I go missing, people will come looking for answers and I think that'll be bad all the way around for both of us, eh?"

"Well, just think it over. Now, you ready to leave?"

"Never more ready," Hopper grumbled, following the doctor out and to the entrance. He left through the doors, escorted by guards, and to an awaiting black car that drove him shortly to Joyce's. When they pulled up, there were even more agents on the scene than yesterday and one of them held the door open for him as he stepped inside, calling for Joyce. 

"I'm in here!" she yelled and he was relieved to hear her voice, unharmed. When he walked into the kitchen, she was bent over at the table with the drawing of Will's splayed out in front of her. Hopper was surprised and sat down, wondering why they let her keep it. As if she read his mind, she answered this very question aloud without looking up.

"They realized they can't keep me in the dark and admitted I'm the one who knows my own son better than anyone. Imagine that?" 

"Yeah, imagine that."

"I just wish I knew what this thing is and what why it's showing itself to him." Joyce kept tracing the black shape over and over with her fingers and Hopper cleared his throat, shifting in his chair while he lit up a cigarette.  

"So Owens talked to you?" he asked calmly.

"He sure did and I'm leaving tomorrow to the Lab. I wanted to leave the moment I hung up the phone, but my resident assholes won't let me and I was waiting to see if you were going to be okay. But tomorrow, as soon as Jonathan goes off to school, I'm leaving." 

"Are you sure?"

Finally she glanced up and he could tell she'd been crying.

"Why do you say that? You think I don't want to be with Will?" Her voice teetered.

"I don't know if it's a good idea to be living in that place. And what about your job and Jonathan? How's he figure in this?"

"I spoke to him about it and we had disagreements, you know he wants to come too, but I told him I can't have him drop out of his schooling and cause even more suspicion. I mean, at this point our whole family is disappearing and it's just looking weird to everyone around town. Besides, Jonathan can take care of himself and Donald will just have to hire someone else. I don't care at this point; Will's wellbeing comes before everything else. I'm NOT abandoning my boy and it's better to live in that hellhole than in this place with a bunch of men that watch me undress!" 

Hopper fiddled with his cigarette uncomfortably and it was obvious Joyce wasn't needing any more counter convincing.

"I'm doing this, Hop. You have your duty and all to this town, I get that, but let me be with Will. My son needs me." 

He understood that deeply and knew from first hand experience what it was like to drop your entire life around the dire needs of your child, never knowing if they'd make it the next day. 

"Alright. But what about Bob?"

She hesitated and sadness tainted her determination. 

"... I don't know. I'm sick of lying to him and pushing him away. He knows we're not a normal family, but having a boy seeing visions and imprisoned at a government laboratory is very, very different story." 

"No shit," Hopper chuckled and then promised her he'd keep Newby away and safe for now because nobody deserved to be in more risk, especially someone like Bob who wasn't physically or emotionally cut out for fights.

"It's the least I can do about him. He'll just have to accept that you need some time alone." 

"Hopper..." 

"Yeah?"

"Bob's smart. He'll see through this and find me no matter I much I hide from him. He truly does love me. He's in this for the long haul." 

"I figured that, but what do you mean, 'the long haul'? You guys gonna get hitched or something?" Hopper chuckled, bending this to a weak joke, but he could tell by her face that this wasn't meant to be any kind of punchline.  

"Actually, yes. Before Will was taken there, he mentioned marriage, if-if that was possible, you know, like down the road, at some point." She seemed embarrassed and focused back on her son's drawing as Hopper put out his cigarette in her orange dish off to the side and then stood to leave, all too aware of the two agents standing outside by the doorway listening to their entire conversation. He couldn't blame Joyce for wanting to get the heck out of being housebound and monitored. 

"I'll see you around very soon I guess." 

"Are you going down to the station?" 

"Yep, the usual. Call me as soon as you can tomorrow before you leave and I'll meet you over there." 

"Can you make sure Jonathan doesn't do anything rash between now and then? Please try and keep an eye on him?" 

He nodded, stepping out of room. 

"Hopper... just be careful," Joyce called after him in parting as he walked to the front door. That was nice of her to be concerned, but for Hopper, being careful and cautious might as well be blowing in the wind by now.

10:30 AM

HNL

The sensation of being plucked by awareness was getting stronger and Will felt like someone was tugging at his brain, forcing him to break back into consciousness. He opened his eyes and blinked slowly... his head felt heavier than his body and he made no effort to sit up. 

"How are you feeling?" The man's voice was distant and near the door as Will squinted to see a blurry, tall figure in a suit and an immaculate top of white hair. 

Ugh. I should've stayed asleep or wherever I was.

"What... happened?" he asked slowly as Dr. Brenner stepped towards him and to his bedside, crouching down and placing a hand on top of the cream colored sheets. Will inched away slightly and bumped into the stuffed lion of his, accidentally knocking it to the floor. Brenner glanced over and then stood up, deciding it was important enough to walk around to pick the stuffed animal up and place it securely onto the boy's chest. Will moved it aside, glaring at the man suspiciously. 

"What was done to me?" 

Brenner sat down on the bed near his legs and sighed.

"You don't remember?"

Will thought back and recalled Owens talking to him and then the doctors coming in to examine him, to run tests on his brain. Specifically an EEG and MRI, Owens had told him and explained before he passed out. Anything since then, was not on Will's recall radar. He wasn't sure if hours or days had passed; time was immeasurable when he wasn't aware. 

"How long have I been out?"

"Not very long; since yesterday evening we've had to keep you under sedation for safety, but it should be wearing off by now." 

Will turned his head, taking in the room he was unfamiliar with. It was more spacious than any previous and looked like more of an actual hospital room; he was lying in a bed rather than a simple small cot and was propped up with a fluffy yet also firm white pillow, and sheets were covering him. There was equipment by his side, wires and an IV in the back of his hand, visiting chairs parked by the walls, and the light dappling behind him was from a closed curtained window. There was a general hush to the room and Will felt like he really was very sick and the way Brenner was looking at him made him feel as though he was on his deathbed. 

"Um... so what happened?" he awkwardly asked, breaking the silence. 

"Your brain scans came back and there is indeed a problem." 

"What kind of problem?" Will whispered, afraid.

"You seem to be suffering from what many of those in my field would at first diagnose as Glioblastoma multiforme, which is a highly aggressive cancer of the brain, stemming from your frontal lobe."

"Can it be taken out?! Can you remove the tumor?!" Will panicked, fidgeting under the sheets and rising up. Brenner put a hand on his shoulder, shoving him back down. 

"Not that we know of in a safe way without killing you in the process. It's not a normal tumor, nor do I personally think it's a typical cancer at all. It's progressed very fast and far too deeply than possible in a human with such a disease. More than that, it appears to be changing the chemistry of your brain, I've never seen anything like it. It's remarkable. However, all this comes at a high cost for you, I'm afraid and I think we both know this is beyond science and traditional medicine."

"The Upside Down?" Will mouthed and Brenner nodded. 

"I'm sure of it. You see, you happen to be the host and there's not much we can do to stop the spread, as it has already established from your prolonged exposure last year. Eventually, I fear it will consume you completely and leave just an empty shell behind."

As Dr. Brenner explained, Will felt a pressure in his stomach and he felt like he was going to throw up soon.

"It's too late, William. You've been host to this virus far too long and now it is no longer dormant; it has been activated fully. The best treatment is to let it run its course. I know how frightening that sounds, but we have much more to learn and consider yourself the first experiment, the learning we can get from this to avoid this happening to others. You may have a few weeks, perhaps a month. We know very little of the timeline, other than your days are numbered."

Will flung himself off the sheets and bolted right off the bed before Brenner could stop him, ripped the IV from his hand, and scurried into the hallway before he realized he had no idea where the bathroom was because this was a hallway he was unfamiliar with and the room he had just come out of wasn't the one he had been confined in previously. He whirled around, dizzying, and then he coughed and doubled over, his stomach heaved, but with very little food in his system, he hardly vomited and just spat onto the tiled floor. There was a rush of footsteps, but he paid no attention to the hands pulling him up and escorted him back into the room. His mind was on only one looming possibility. No, hell it was a guarantee the way Brenner made it sound. 

Will Byers was going to die. Zombie Boy was not going to be undead anymore, he was just going to be dead. 

No. That can't happen.

Fat tears overflowed his eyes and spilled down onto his cheeks as he was situated back onto the bed, and hooked up to the machines and IV drip. He cried silently and watched the nurses leave once their work was done. Brenner had disappeared, like a ghost foretelling doom, as though he'd never been there at all. Just as well. 

11:30 AM

Dr. Owens tacked up another sheet showing a scan of the brain of Will Byers and turned to the group of scientists seated around the conference table. Martin Brenner was standing in the doorway, observing.

"As you can see, his frontal lobe is the significantly the source of it and it's spreading far more rapid than any tumor that's ever been documented, so we can conclude that this not any form of usual brain cancer, thus brings me to my point: What exactly has caused this cancer? It's been known for some time William Byers has been infected, however, is this caused by some bacteria or instead perhaps a virus from the alternate dimension? That's what we should be racing to exactly pinpoint."

Owens glanced over at Martin (who wasn't impressed at the whole presentation in general because it was obvious to him that the boy's condition was not just a simple virus or bacteria that came out of nowhere and it was from the so-called Upside Down) and then Owens wrapped the discussion up rather hastily. One by one, the scientists left, and once everyone had filed out, Owens waited for his colleague to say something, but there was only stagnant silence. He glanced over, shuffling papers together into a neat stack.

"Well? Come to gloat? You're getting what you want after all; another little guinea pig to experiment on and whatever is left of him if we can't stop this."

"I'm withholding any procedures for now until the 'virus' runs its way through the boy." 

"We can't do this."

"Do what?" Brenner genuinely seemed perplexed.

"All of this. Everything. By law, Will's medical care and any procedures need to be under the consent of a legal parent or guardian. It's completely illegal and malpractice what we've done so far. Do you realize if all this was exposed, the colossal amount of trouble we're in?"

Brenner smirked coldly and checked the time on his watch, as though this pathetic excuse of a conversation was a mere interruption and he had far more important matters to attend and oversee. He spoke in a rushed tone, halfway out of sight from the door frame. 

"Now you worry about ethics and legalities? We don't need to pull strings here, we are the strings. There's no need to worry." Brenner was gone too swiftly for Owens to have the chance to argue.  

"I never wanted it to come to this," Owens muttered to the empty room and turned around to stare at the boy's brain scans again. 

12:00 PM

Eleven banged her fists against the solid door repeatedly. 

"PAPA! PAPA! PAPA! PAPA! PAPA! PAPAAAAAAAAAA!" 

The guard outside must have got tired of her screams because the door was suddenly yanked open, causing her to stumble forward in surprise.

"Christ, you really are just like a goddamn baby always crying and screaming for daddy. Whaddya want this time? Did you shit or piss yourself again?" The guard snarled and pushed her back with a club that usually hung at his belt. She retreated and had to bury her desire to break his neck and send his body flying through the wall. If she did that, Papa would be mad and she didn't want him mad; she wanted him to forgive her and to never see more of this cell again. She wanted her crib and its comfortable mattress and blanket, she even wanted soft Mr. Lion back in her arms and to be in her one-piece outfit. Even a hospital gown would be a welcome change from her mostly nude, perpetually chilled body. 

"I... want Papa. Please."

"He's busy. You'll get out when he's ready to let you out," the guard grunted in reply, starting to swing the door shut. 

"No!" Eleven cried out despite herself and before she could think about it - it was pure reflex - she flung the man into the door, banging his head into the metal and he slumped to the floor, blood gushing from his nose and bleeding from the head. At least his neck was okay. She stepped over his body carefully and wandered out into the hallway, wondering how long her "freedom" would last before she was taken against her will for the umpteenth time in her young life. The coast was clear and without the guard able to send for anyone or a tracking bracelet on her wrist, the alarms were blissfully nonexistent, although everywhere she looked in corners, there was a steady red light watching her and she knew Papa or someone was going to know in seconds, maybe minutes if she was lucky. It considered to her that she didn't know where she was going or how to get anywhere. The halls looked all relatively the same and the rooms, if the doors were open, were all empty with equipment or they were shut offices or storage closets. She knew it would be easy to spot her room if only she had directions. 

"Honey, are you lost?" 

Eleven jumped at the female voice and whipped around to see a fair haired nurse staring at her. 

"Lost...?" 

"Yes, are you lost? Do you need me to go get someone for you?" 

"No. Please. No. No Papa," she begged and the nurse smiled in sympathy, taking in her appearance, and when she spoke it was done in the kind of tone you'd use around a mentally ill person.  

"I think you're a little confused. Why don't you come with me and we'll go find your doctor together?" 

No. 

Eleven thought fast and used her ability to push the woman up to the wall, bumping her head hard enough to knock her out, but not to make a bloody mess as she had done numerous times with guards. 

"Sorry," she whimpered and dashed off, ducking around corners and then into an elevator. It looked like she was on the second level and her heart galloped as she punched the number five button, watching it light up and heard the beep before jolting upward. 

1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 

'The higher the number, the more successful', she remembered Papa telling her once, referencing her being his most powerful. 

'All the other numbers failed, Eleven. You are the best, the highest.' 

He also thought higher numbers of other aspects of her life were good, too. Test results. Finds. Kills. 

The elevator dinged and she breathed a sigh of relief not to see anyone waiting outside. Eleven walked out, unaware of how odd she must look in only a diaper, and went off down the hall. She heard faint crying and she froze, eyes and ears craning to find the source. She determined it was coming from behind a closed door a few feet in front of her, off to her right, and she approached. It was locked and she didn't have the key, but that didn't stop her as she focused and snapped the doorknob right off. She shoved against the door with her palms and gasped upon the sight inside. It was Will who was weeping as he lay on a hospital bed. He glanced up and his eyes widened in shock and awe. 

"Eleven?!" he choked out and averted his eyes quickly from her exposed torso as she smiled obliviously, coming over to him. Uncomfortable, he sat up and tried to wrestle out of his hospital gown. 

"Here, just put my gown on, okay?" he quickly advised. 

"Why?" 

"Just do it. I'm running hot anyway." She helped him untie the back and it slid off his body onto her lap. He breathed in relief, but she could see the goosebumps peppering his neck and arms. 

"Cold?" 

"I like it."

She looked at him curiously, not understanding, and he reached over to help her into the gown, inadvertently triggering bad flashbacks of her old life. Never again would she wear one of these, she had promised herself, yet here she was. Why couldn't she ever escape from the past?

Will finished tying the back and then laid down, shirtless and in just his boxers - at least he had those left on - and Eleven stared at his bare chest. She gingerly touched him and he froze, eyes huge. She removed her hand and reached up, feeling her own chest under the gown. It was unlike his and she frowned.

You're a little girl, Eleven. This is a little boy. Papa had shown her a picture book years ago with an illustration of a nearly naked male toddler. She couldn't understand why the small boy's chest was shown, but the girl on the next page was dressed in a pink frilly top with no skin showing anywhere. Why couldn't the girl go shirtless too or vice versa and the boy wear a shirt? They were the same age, weren't they? Her mind now wandered to imagining what Mike's chest looked like and was it just like Will's? Did all boys look the same without clothes? She'd never seen many to begin with and then it occurred to her that she had no idea what an adult, like Papa, looked like either underneath a suit. She'd pulled back his white shirtsleeve once because she found it interesting how fuzzy the back of his hand felt and was fascinated to discover his arm also had a thick coating of light hairs covering his skin. Will wasn't furry like that at all, though. 

"Eleven, are you okay?" Will asked cautiously, distracting her from her pondering. 

"Okay. You... okay?" she questioned, wishing she could ask him everything, but she didn't have the vocabulary for it. He sensed her inquisition, though. 

"No, not okay. Nothing's okay. Papa..." He internally cursed himself for calling Brenner that, but knew she had to understand. 

"He tells me I'm going to die, that I have a virus inside me that's killing me." 

"Sick?" 

"Yeah." 

"Bad?" 

"Yes, very bad and it's because of the Upside Down. I know it, there's something inside me and it's like a disease and it's spreading... I can feel it and - " Will stopped short at the loud sound of footsteps right outside in the hall, but then they faded away and Will breathed a sigh of relief. 

"In you?" Eleven asked.  

"Yeah. It's like I'm being attacked and I can't control it once it starts. Owens calls it 'episodes'." 

"Mike? Dustin? Lucas?" She wanted to know if they knew about this, but he shook his head. 

"They're fine and they don't know. Um, let's keep it a secret, okay? I don't want it to spread to anyone else outside of this place if you know what I mean." As he spoke, Eleven thought she heard the footsteps again, but she ignored them, intent on Will. 

"Hey, now what's going on in here?" Dr. Owens strode in and Will and Eleven jumped out of their skins.

"I hate to interrupt this reunion, but one of you shouldn't be in here and it's you, kiddo. C'mon, I'll cover for you. And you stay in here," he ordered to Will, coming over and promptly grabbing Eleven's arm, tugging her to the door. She looked back sadly at Will only to find he oddly wasn't paying attention anymore; his face had gone slack and he stared straight ahead into nothingness. Eleven whimpered his name and struggled against Owens, but he didn't realize anything was off. 

"Eleven, calm down. When your Papa finds out about you running off... I really don't want a repeat of last time..." He trailed off, running a hand through his hair anxiously, and she thought it was stupid that he was telling her to calm down. He wasn't calm. 

"No Papa," she firmly said and he shook his head. 

"I wish that was true, but it's necessary. It'll be much worse if I don't take you to him." 

He glanced at her dressed in Will's hospital gown and raised a eyebrow. 

"You know, I've heard of giving someone the shirt off their back, but this is a whole new level. Will's a good kid." He smiled and Eleven heard Papa before she saw him coming out of an open door. He must have known they were coming or heard the footsteps. 

"Eleven! What are you doing here? Sam, what's the meaning of this? Where did you find her?" 

"She was out looking for you Martin." Owens spoke a little too fast and Brenner took a long glance from him to Eleven.

"Right?" Owens nudged her and she nodded at once, keeping her eyes on Papa.

"I... lost. Guard let me and I... lost," she struggled to explain before sniffling and looking at Owens. He picked up the rest. 

"I think what she's trying to tell you is that she wanted to get to you very badly and the guard accidentally let her out and then she got lost looking for you and then I happened to find her." He held his breath as he wasn't sure he was as good a liar as his colleague was and figured a man that lied for a living always could tell when someone else was deceiving. However, it helped some that Eleven was on the verge of tears and leaning towards her Papa.

"You know you're not to leave any room on your own, Eleven, and especially without Papa around," Brenner scolded and then looked at Owens. 

"You're responsible for this, aren't you?"

"Martin, I - " 

"I'll take her from here."

Owens looked worried and gently let go of her arm, letting her go to Brenner. She cried, almost wailing, and he pulled her into him, casting a disapproving look at Owens. 

"That's my girl... Shh, Papa's here now, Papa's got you."

He glared at Owens before taking her with him away down the hall. 

"Papa?" 

"Hm?" 

"Bad?"

"Yes, but I hope you've learned your lesson. Do you have an apology for me now? Can you say sorry?" He stopped in the middle of the hall and gripped her shoulders and his expression told her that her life - or at least well being - depended on the right answer. She hated to say it, but she couldn't take the punishing any longer. 

"I'm... sorry, Papa." 

He straightened up and rubbed a hand over her stubbly hair and cradled her face in praise. 

"I'm glad you feel so. Now, let's get you cleaned up with a bath." 

He led her into a bathroom and pulled the gown off and now she was right back where she started with just her dry diaper. 

"Papa?" she softly spoke, glancing at the toilet and his eyes followed hers. 

"Do you need to pee? I can't have you going in the bath." 

She fiddled with the diaper tapes, wishing to rip it off.

"Eleven, what did you just say to me a few moments ago?" His voice sharpened dangerously and her knees shook slightly. It scared her how fast he could go from being nice and caring to threatening and mean. 

"Sorry, Papa." Wasn't that enough?

"Good. Now, no more fighting me or yourself. Do what a baby does and use it." He pointed at her diaper and her stomach clenched. She squeezed her eyes shut, straining against the feeling. She didn't want to do this anymore, especially since she'd spent the last couple days doing nothing but being forced to withstand her own waste in close proximity. It had been so much nicer when Papa or a nurse changed her right away. 

"I'm going to stand here until you do what you're supposed to, Eleven. We don't want to go backwards on our progress, do we?"

Funny. She thought potty training was progress. Hadn't he told her that a long time ago?

"I'll just wait." Papa crossed his arms and now her bladder was beginning to really hurt. She heard the soft ticking of the clock on the wall and counted the number of ticks up to twelve and then started over because she didn't know any more numbers. Eleven counted twelve ticks for four times before her body betrayed her will and she did what Papa desired for her and it was unfortunately very easy once her body was committed. Slightly stunned and soaked, she sank down to the floor and he smiled. 

"Good girl."

He let her sit in her wetness for a couple minutes as he filled up the bath halfway before he knelt down next to her. She laid on her back and let him remove the diaper, wiping her down, and then helping her into the tub. She relaxed at the warmth of the water, a temperature she hadn't felt in a while. She sighed and he washed her scalp, scrubbing in the fruity smelling shampoo and rinsing after a minute, water streaming down her head and she kept her eyes closed as tight a possible. He also made sure to take a washcloth to the rest of her body and while he was doing so, she was reminded of why boys and girls were anatomically different. Curious, she studied Papa. 

"Boy?" 

He paused, rubbing behind her ears with the gray washcloth. 

"What?" 

"Girl," she identified and indicated at herself. Papa seemed a little amused and rinsed the washcloth, squeezing and slapping it against the side of the tub. 

"Yes, you're a girl. A baby girl." 

"Boy." She pushed her hand towards him, touching his black tie with a wet finger. He glanced down and back to her, confused. 

"I'm a man, not a boy. A boy is younger, not yet a man." 

"Girl?" she asked again, wishing for more explanation, but Papa seemed a bit impatient. 

"A girl is a younger woman. Don't you know this? And why does it matter to you right now?" 

"Baby?" 

"Yes, a baby is a very young boy or girl. You are a little baby girl." He smiled at this, tapping her nose, but she was only more perplexed. If she was a baby but also a girl, was that why she looked different than a boy? What did a baby boy look like? 

"Why... girl and not boy? What boy... like?" She pulled at his tie and buttoned shirt, wanting to know what was underneath. He wasn't pleased in the slightest. Pulling her fingers off his chest, he scowled and used a warning tone.  

"That's enough. Why are you acting like this, asking all these silly questions? Did Dr. Owens say something to you?" 

She shook her head and he narrowed his eyes. 

"Are you sure?" 

"Yes, Papa."

"Okay. Now, stay here and I'll get your clothes."

He left, allowing for her soak for a while. She sank down, water lapping at her ears, and normally she would have been bothered by it, but she let her mind drift away with the bubbles... Will was at the forefront of her mental thought exploration and before she knew it, she had found him easily in the void. This was perhaps because she had just seen him and he was rather nearby, after all. In the blackness, she saw him at a distance on his bed, but he wasn't sitting or just lying down. He was moving around... writhing? Concerned, she walked closer and gasped when she saw him thrashing on his back and she heard the frantic beeping of his skyrocketing heart rate.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOO! LET ME GO! LET ME GO! LET ME GOOOOOOOO!" Will hollered and Eleven began to back away, seeing his veins (or were those his veins?!) appear black and bursting at his flesh.

"WILL! WILL!" Eleven screamed, knowing he wouldn't hear her, but she was terrified for him. She spun around in the void, desperate.

"HELP! HELP! HELP...!"

She abruptly bolted upright in the bathtub, choking on water and hyperventilating as the door almost banged off its hinges and Brenner came rushing in. He grabbed her face and shook her slightly. 

"Eleven?! Eleven! Can you hear me?"

She grabbed for Papa, any part of him really - his face, his shirt, his tie - she coughed, trying to dispel the water. He patted her on the back and she spat up a stream of water on the floor. Wheezing, she gasped out words. 

"H-Help! W-Will! Will! He's hurting!" 

Brenner frowned and looked up as the alarms suddenly blared, and he let go of her, running out the door. She struggled to get out of the slippery bathtub, water sloshing over the sides, and she landed on her side before flinging herself out the door after him, but she didn't make it far as she slipped on the shiny floor, falling hard on her bare bottom. She began to sob, for it was all she could think of to do at the moment. What was wrong with Will? Was this what he meant by being very sick? Was he was going to die?! She cried in the middle of the empty hallway in despair. 

It was a long time before someone (Papa) came back. Her tears had dried, but her body was still wet and she was shivering. He was completely silent as he pulled her back into the bathroom and dried her off, put her in a clean diaper, and dressed her in a pale pink, plain one-piece that snapped closed at her crotch. It didn't provide any cover for her legs, but having him put the white booties snugly on her feet helped somewhat. It was a lot better than being naked. 

"Will?" she finally asked quietly, dreading for whatever the answer, most likely bad, was. Papa shushed her however and when she kept asking, he firmly pushed a matching pink pacifier into her mouth. She frowned, but kept herself occupied with it as he carried her out into the hall, leading her not to the cell, but back to her real room, the right room, and straight into the large crib. It came to her just then that this was only another form of confinement, a place to leave her by herself until she'd use her diaper once again. This never ending cycle made her feel somewhat depressed, watching Papa secure the side up in place and not knowing the next time he'd let her out. She stood up, gripping the bars in confusion as he rearranged the supplies on the table and then headed for the door. She let pacifier drop out and she called to him, but it was in vain, for he already shut the door and didn't come back. 

2:00 PM 

Brenner bent down inside the room where William Byers was no longer staying in and picked up the shredded remains of Leo the Lion. Will had gone on an utter rampage earlier, wrecking the entire room, overturning chairs and tearing the bed apart, and then he'd ran out threatening staff, somehow getting into another room where medical supplies were kept and taking a surgeon's scalpel, which he'd used to brutally destroy the stuffed toy and tried to hurt a nurse with. By the time Brenner and Owens had found him a short bit later, he was on the floor, screaming and convulsing. He was taken away and was now in intensive care and near comatose. Owens had come back from overseeing the desperate attempts to revive the boy, and was now surveying the damage along with his colleague and Brenner noticed the man was visibly sweating from nerves. Sad. 

"Who would have thought a kid could this? That amount of strength doesn't come from a 95 pound thirteen year old!" Owens exclaimed. 

"We both saw that his blood pressure was at 130/70. It was an extreme adrenaline rush."

"I'm not sure about that." 

"You seemed so sure yesterday that he had a neurological condition and this is not related to the dimension." 

"Well, yes, but that was before the results from the EEG and MRI. Not to mention this violent episode. We're lucky no one got seriously hurt or killed by him." 

Brenner was no stranger to violent children and so he didn't match Owens' concern. In fact, he wasn't very concerned at all.

"I want the dissection this week whether the boy is alive or not," he stated flatly and Owens was aghast.

"No! No. No, you can't," he pleaded and Brenner glanced over at him.

"He'll never make it at this point." 

"We can't just let him die!" 

"There is no cure for it. He will die." 

"Don't say that. We-We'll find a way to curb whatever this is. We'll keep him in a coma if we have to. I won't let you carve up this boy when he's not naturally dead yet. What are you going to do, murder him in his sleep? That's completely inhumane, Martin!" 

"You are a fool, Sam." 

"Excuse me?"

"I SAID YOU ARE A FOOL!" Brenner yelled. He couldn't keep his diplomatic attitude with his colleague anymore and with no one around, he could finally rip into him.

"We have so much to learn from this and YOU ARE LETTING YOUR OWN EMOTIONS RISK EVERYTHING!"

"Oh, you're one to talk! How about your emotions with your precious daughter, the one who I found escaped in this very boy's room earlier. I watched the footage after you took her back and do realize something, Martin? That kid gave her his own hospital gown to cover her up for modesty because SOMEONE decided it's morally just to brainwash and abuse a THIRTEEN YEAR OLD GIRL into being naked and wearing goddamn diapers twenty-four-seven! She's going to be screwed up for life if you keep her on this path and that won't be conducive to EITHER of us! SO DON'T TELL ME ABOUT EMOTIONS AND WHAT YOUR SICK, TWISTED MIND THINKS IS RIGHT!"

"I should've have killed the boy when I had the chance," Brenner said in a lower voice, throwing the shredded stuffed animal to the floor. 

Owens stepped back, holding up a hand. 

"Wait, did I just hear what I thought I heard? Am I hearing you right? You were going to kill Will all along?" 

"I was going to let him die in that place. He should've died. I only traded him to the Chief for the whereabouts of my subject because I had no other choice. But he was not anyone special." 

"He's not like Eleven, yes, but he's very abnormal, Martin. We both know that now."

Brenner put his hands into his suit pockets and stared downward.

"I thought the controlling would be easier, but it always gets out of hand, no matter what I do."

"Who are we talking about, Will or Eleven?" Owens questioned. 

"I have a second chance with Eleven. I'll never let her choose to be without me as long as I'm living."

"I know that. She requires care and isn't normal; we've already established that. But, your ways with her have gone too far." 

"It's men like you who never comprehend the idea of far. No wonder you spent years floundering in government offices. If it hadn't been for me, you would still be there, relegated to mediocrity and being a standard physician." 

"That's absolute bullshit! Oh, take credit for everything why don't you? Who the hell do you think you are, God?" 

"Why not? The weak look for strength they'll never have. And you are one of the weakest I've ever seen. I don't know why Eleven looks to you. You are nothing compared to me." 

Owens was very insulted. 

"Are you insinuating that Eleven prefers me? Is that was this has been about this whole time? You're afraid she'll stop loving you because of me? Because of everyone else who cares about that little girl? I... you are jealous, aren't you? You're jealous of that trust I don't have to torture people for. That Will's mother doesn't demand, that the Chief doesn't manipulate people for, that those friends of Will's don't hang people out to dry when they have their own ideas. And this just isn't about them, is it? Look, I don't know what all your life has entailed and I don't know you very well personally, but I think it's safe to bet you never had someone naturally love you, have you?"

Brenner felt a pinch of fear. No, not this. This was too personal.

"Well, have you?" Owens demanded.

Brenner refused to look him in the eye and he blinked. He was crossing professional lines. This was purely unacceptable. 

"Answer me!" 

He wouldn't give him the satisfaction and so, at a total loss for words, Brenner walked out and slammed the door (that had scratch marks from the boy's violent episode) in his wake. Extremely in a unpleasant deposition, he found himself fantasizing about getting lucky and hoping the creatures he'd been fostering downstairs would do him a favor and eat Sam Owens - and anyone else who dared to psychoanalyze him - raw.  

Chapter Text

October 14, 1984 10:00 AM

HAWKINS NATIONAL LABORATORY, HAWKINS INDIANA

"I'm very sorry about the delay, Ms. Byers, there was a, well, complication. No, no, you're fine and we're dealing with your son; yes, he's alive and under the best of care. You'll be seeing him very soon, I promise. We'll see you at three o'clock. Right. Alright, see you then." Dr. Owens shakily hung up the phone in his office and swiveled around in his chair, feeling the gun from a soldier finally leave the back of his head. He closed his eyes, perspiration visible, and he when he opened them, Martin was standing in front of him. Owens took a gulp of air before speaking. 

"I've been able to delay her until three o'clock this afternoon. She's coming whether we like it or not."

As he spoke, Brenner ran a hand along the desk, catching a stray paperclip in his palm and thumb. He flipped his hand over and plucked the paperclip up, lifting it to the light before slowly proceeding to pry open the metal out of its shape, and into a crooked point. He scraped the top of the desk with it, leaving a long white scratch into the wood grain. He suddenly sharply turned to the small group of scientists assembled in the doorway, awaiting orders. 

"Prepare the dissection."

"No!" Owens gasped despite himself and the soldier pressed the gun firmly up again to his temple.

"There's nothing you can do," Brenner said softly and then led the way out of the office, the white coats following close behind. 

12:00 PM 

Brenner entered Eleven's nursery with a grim expression, exuding somberness, and his arms flat at his sides. She was asleep in the crib and he dropped the bars down, lightly tickling her side to wake her. She stirred and blinked open her eyes at him before slowly sitting up, clutching the crib bars for support.

"Eleven, I have something to tell you." She frowned at the harshness of his tone.

"I'm afraid that the boy didn't make it through the night. He's gone." He said it so simply.

"Gone...?" she whispered and he nodded with a firm scowl. 

"He was too sick and it was too late. Will is gone." 

He watched the moist pooling in her eyes and she began to breathe quicker. 

"No... no, no, no," she whimpered as the tears dripped out and slid down her cheeks. Her chest rose and fell in panic and upset, so Brenner put a hand out on her cheek and rubbed circles into her skin with his thumb. 

"I'm sorry. There was nothing we could do." 

She sobbed and pitched forward into him and he held her, patting her back in a stiff fashion, unemotionally, for he had no feeling about this. Even if the boy was actually dead, he would not share in her grief, but she needed comforting right now and he was the only one who could truly provide that. 

"Why, Papa?" she choked out on his shoulder and he sighed. 

"It's not fair, is it?" He stroked the back of her head and she wept continuously until he gently put her back to the crib. 

"Would you like some playtime?"

She looked at him with a scrunched face, utterly perplexed at the proposition. He could tell she was wondering how the toys could help her in such a current state of grief, so he provided the solution that seemed obvious.

"It'll take your mind off him." 

He didn't wait for an answer and set up a space on the floor, placing down blocks and balls, a rattle, and even an assortment of children's books for her to look at (little did she know they had been the boy's only a short time ago). He left briefly and returned with Mr. Teddy Bear behind his back, bringing the stuffed animal around front to present to her. She gasped, grabbed it and pressed her tear strained face into its furry one.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." she cried into the toy and Brenner raised an eyebrow, thinking it ludicrous. There was nothing to be sorry about anymore on her end.

What's done is done. Or will be very soon. 

She climbed out of the crib and sat on the floor, unenthusiastically picking up the various colorful objects while Brenner retrieved Mr. Lion from the crib. He paused, looking down at it and remembering its ripped apart, destroyed twin and he hoped that Eleven would never do the same or similar to her own.

"Eleven, Mr. Lion wants to be with Mr. Bear," he told her, letting the lion slip from his fingers to her lap. She put the lion right next to the bear so they were touching fur to fur and they sat, their glass eyes "watching" over her. 

"No more competition, see?" Brenner pointed down at them with a soft smile. 

"Com-compet-com..." she tried to repeat, struggling with the word.  

"That's a very big word for a little one like you. Let's just say they are friends now." 

"F-Friends." She began to weep again and he ran a hand over her shaved head. 

"Want... friends. Friends, Papa." 

He removed his hand and walked to the door, beginning to open it. 

"You have no friends, Eleven. Your stuffed animals and your toys are your friends." 

She glanced up at him and he saw a flicker of anger, but it was quickly stifled by sadness and loss of hope. He shut the door and made sure the lock was working before he went striding down the hallway. 

Now the real work would begin. 

Back inside her room, Eleven grabbed a blanket from the crib to wrap around her head to block out the bright overhead lights, and felt in her mind for the void, trying to connect with Will. She only found darkness, however, and nothing more all around her and she yelled his name, but only silence answered and the splashing water under her feet. Disappointed, she pulled out with her nose bleeding and her eyes stinging with tears. She yanked the blanket off and wiped the blood away with her finger and then reached for a puzzle on the floor, hoping for it to be a distraction like Papa wanted. It didn't do much for her, but it did make her focus, and as she was working to assemble the colorful pieces, Eleven heard the door open again and she looked up in anticipation for Papa, but it wasn't him. Dr. Owens, appearing more concerned and encased in fear than she'd ever seen him, came rushing in. 

"Eleven, I need your help. It's about Will." 

"But Papa... said he's g-gone." 

"He lied to you. Will is not awake, but he's still alive, however he won't be much longer. I need you to come with me now and stop your Papa from hurting him. Please, Eleven." 

She jumped to her feet, a little unsuccessfully as she wobbled and almost fell, tripping on a wooden block. Owens supported her and they quickly left the room, racing as best as either of them could fairly quietly down the labyrinth of halls. Eleven could feel her heart racing along with her feet and she thought very hard about not going to the bathroom. 

"Dr. Owens?" A man dressed in greenish scrubs up ahead, going into an open doorway, stopped in confusion. 

"Don't panic," Owens muttered to Eleven and she hung onto his arm tightly. 

"You're not permitted to be here," the man chastised.

"Get out of the way!" Owens barked sharply at him.  

"But Dr. Brenner said - "

"And I say, GET OUT OF OUR WAY!" Owens pushed him aside and forced his way into the crowded room full of doctors and scientists. Brenner was standing off to the side, also in scrubs, and he appeared shocked to see Eleven, his eyes bouncing back and forth from her to Owens.

"No, neither of you can be in here!" he hotly exclaimed and Owens kept a firm grip on the girl as they stood by the door. Bodies pressed up against them, crowding them out, and Owens felt guards behind them, their guns poking into his back. Well, damnit, if he was going to go out like this, he at least knew he had tried. Now it was all up to Eleven.

"Get them out!" Brenner commanded and Eleven twisted herself away from the many hands assaulting her position in the room next to Dr. Owens.

"Wait! Let her watch! Make her watch it!" Owens yelled out and Brenner ordered those attempting to drag the two of them out to stop. Owens was gasping for breath and Eleven fixed her gaze on what exactly all these people in the space were gathered around. Her heart, which was still running a fast marathon, almost stopped cold in its tracks when she saw him. 

Will.

Or rather, his unmoving body, was lying on a gray steel table and a thin white sheet was covering his lower half, leaving his pale bare chest and face exposed. His eyes were closed, but she saw faint rising and falling of breathing. He wasn't gone.

"PAPA! YOU LIE! YOU LIE! YOU LIE!" she shrieked and the amount of fury she had inside her was enough to snap everyone's necks in this room, but she held off, controlling. She had to save Will and then to hell with everyone else here, except Owens of course. 

"I only did to PROTECT YOU!" Brenner shouted back at her. 

"NO! YOU LIE! YOU... ALWAYS LIE!" 

His face was deadly and when he spoke next, it was with quiet, forceful precision.

"Alright. Let's let her watch. Eleven, keep your eyes on the body." 

The body. As though that's all Will was. Nothing more than a nameless, even numberless, body. Just the body. Eleven was so angry, the tears would not produce and for once she was grateful. 

"That's why I brought her in here, that's what I wanted to show her. She needs to see it," Owens told Brenner and Eleven looked at him, confused. She thought he wanted her to help save Will. What was she supposed to watch? Papa hurting him? But how? She glanced around, noticing the doctors had tools on a tray next to Will and one of them picked up a long, shiny silver blade. Brenner appeared satisfied as the man carefully held it in his gloved fingers, aiming it downward towards Will's chest. 

"No, stop!" Eleven exclaimed, but no one was listening anymore. The doctor put the tip of the knife right to Will's midsection and began to slowly puncture in, dragging it through upwards into his chest. Horrified, Eleven couldn't move and she felt Owens frantically glancing at her. Brenner on the other hand, was the least bit disturbed.

"Do you see, Eleven? This is what happens when you get sick and let the darkness take you over," Brenner explained as the doctor used the knife and Will's body began to open up, folds of skin splitting, and she saw blood. Lots of blood, seeping and trailing down in streams over his body. She couldn't speak, she almost couldn't even breathe. Her eyes fixed on the tool doing this deplorable act and her face hardened as she focused intently on it, drowning out any other visual or sound. The blade was all she saw and she mentally pulled at it, hoping to draw it away. The doctor's hand gripped it tighter, slowing down as he struggled to keep a hold on it and Brenner noticed. 

"Hold on." 

The doctor looked up, keeping his grip on the tool, but no longer gouging with it. Eleven heard Papa, but refused to break her concentration. 

"Eleven, I know you're doing this. Don't. If you do this there will be consequences. Stop."

She wavered slightly and the man regained his control on the tool. He didn't wait for Brenner's approval and started carving further into Will's body, but Eleven focused harder on the battle between knife and mind. 

"Eleven, I'm warning you!"

Her head quivered in effort and the knife was bending under the strain.  

"Eleven, no!"

In one second, the knife popped up out of the doctor's hand and shot out onto the floor with a clatter.

"Get another instrument," Brenner ordered, but the doctor didn't move. 

"I said, GET ANOTHER!"

There was a strangled gurgling sound and Brenner glanced up to see the man's face bleeding, crimson stemming from the eyes, nose, and ears and his throat spasming violently.

"No," Brenner whispered, looking to Eleven, whose hand was outstretched and she thought of nothing else but crushing this man's brain, watching his body fall to the floor, more blood spilling out. She targeted the doctor next to him and he too bled out and fell with a thud to the floor.

"ELEVEN!" Brenner ducked down as more bodies began falling like timber around him and then Eleven bolted out the room, snapping the necks of guards as she met them. Owens yelled and ran after her, but he couldn't keep up as she rounded corners and practically flew across the tiled flooring. Her fight had morphed fast into flight and her instinct was telling her to flee, even though Papa was still with Will, but one thought was dominating over everything else. 

Get out. Get out. But... where?

She remembered the tunnel she had squeezed into that led to the outside, but that was down below... far below, further down than the tank room and near where the Upside Down was infiltrating. She circled around, feeling herself getting very weak, and she thought of going back to get Will somehow and hurting Papa, but she was finding herself spinning - both physically and mentally - and the dizziness became too great and black spots came en masse in her vision. Her eyes rolled back and the last she knew was her body falling fast towards the floor, finalizing with a thump. 

3:00 PM

BYERS HOUSE, HAWKINS INDIANA

Joyce slammed the phone back to the receiver and gathered up her keys, purse, and a small bag of clothing and personal items in case she wasn't allowed back home or chose not to go back once she signed herself over to Hawkins Lab. She wasn't sure how long she would be gone, either, and looking around at the cluttered living room with picture frames filled with photos of the boys, and she considered taking them with her, but decided against it because it made her too sad, so she just left, trotting out to the car and quickly throwing her belongings in the front seat before taking the driver's side and turning the key. The engine sputtered, but it didn't roar to life.

"Oh, c'mon!" Joyce exclaimed in frustration and it took two more tries before it finally started and she began to speed off down the driveway.

"Old piece of shit," she uttered under her breath and she got about maybe twenty feet before she realized something was wrong and there was a bump and a hiss as the car lurched and abruptly stopped. Joyce let out a string of expletives and exited the car to see a total flat tire on the front driver's side. She ran back to the house and dialed up Hopper, who picked up on the first ring, and he could barely get a word in as she shouted her situation to him and then he assured her he'd be over as soon as he could with a spare tire since she didn't have one handy at the moment. Frustrated, she plunked herself down on the porch and lit up a cigarette, periodically checking the time every two minutes. The only relief was that there were no more agents hanging around after she called Dr. Owens again a half hour ago to confirm she could come over and the agents had cleared out promptly, their "work" done. After waiting about thirty minutes, she finally heard the rumble of Hopper's truck and she raced out to the car as he pulled up. 

"Really, Hop? I've been waiting thirty minutes! I had to be at the Lab at three!"

"I had to go buy one at the shop, alright?" he grumbled and got to work changing out the spent tire.

"I saw Jonathan on the way over here." Hopper mentioned as he jacked the car up and Joyce went on full alert at this news.

"Where? Is he okay? Did you stop, is that what took so long?" she demanded and Hopper grunted. 

"Looked like he was headed out of town with Nancy Wheeler in his car." 

"What?! He didn't say anything about that before he left for school this morning!" 

"Calm down, Joyce. They were very secretive about where they were going or what they were doing, but Jonathan told me to tell you it's about the Lab and somehow it's going to help Will get out of there, perhaps shut the entire place down. He's meeting with what he called an 'outside source', whatever the hell that means." 

Joyce looked very perplexed and peppered Hopper with more questions, but he couldn't answer any of them.

"That's all I know. He didn't say they're off doing anything unsafe and that girl is with him. Look, if they're not back in town by tomorrow afternoon, I'll go searching, but for now, we've gotta get you over there and see how Will is doing. That's most important right now besides this damn tire." 

"Okay, okay." Joyce took several breaths and puffs on the cigarette before Hopper had the new tire in place. He tossed the flat tire aside and pointed at a three inch long slash on the tread and also held up a decent sized nail. 

"See this right there? That's been tampered with and any idea how this single nail might have landed in your driveway?" 

Joyce swore and shook her head.

"It was them, I know it."

"Well, it's all good to go now." He grinned at her, but she barely saw him, already in the driver's seat and starting the car. Thankfully this time it started right up. 

"Joyce, I'll be right behind you," he called out as he went to his truck and the two vehicles drove off away from the Byers property. 

3:30 PM

HNL

It was hours later when Eleven awoke again, and at first she thought she was back in the void, but there was no water underneath her, and then she began to panic, realizing her world was dark. Had she gone blind?!

No... It was only a cloth. A black blindfold. She reached up to yank it off, but she couldn't get her fingers to it because her hands felt padded and constricted. Her feet felt warm, too, and she kicked her legs, regretting this a bit when they slammed into familiar solid wooden bars. Crib bars. She was back in her crib?

Eleven wiggled her feet, trying to move them out of their booties, but they seemed stuck. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself, and tried to get a sense of what she was wearing without being able to see. By the rustling and crinkling sound, she could easily tell she was diapered, that was for certain and nothing new, although the diaper felt thicker than usual as she moved her hips and felt it being pinned to her from a most likely tightly fitting one-piece. She tried to stand up, but that was impossible as her balance was thrown off and she fell over sideways. A soft chuckle distracted her and she froze, listening, her ears the only asset at the moment.

"You're very persistent, Eleven. I've always loved that about you, but it's time you leave the control up to me. I won't hurt you."

"Papa!" she spat out, remembering everything from before she blacked out.

"Yes, I'm your Papa," he calmly answered. 

She wanted to ask him what was going on, where was Will, but before she could, the blindfold was tugged down from her face to her neck. She saw him, his hand retracting away through the white bars, and he was no longer in scrubs, but his usual suit. She held up her own hands and saw they were in white mittens. Everything on her was snow white: the mittens, the legless bodysuit, the diaper visible underneath, and the booties. She cocked her head in confusion and looked back up at him. 

"You did a very bad thing, Eleven, but I'm not going to lock you away by yourself or deny you clothing or food this time. On the contrary, you can have all the food and milk you want."

She was very befuddled and listened curiously as he continued. 

"In fact, I think all you need is more time with me. For the next couple of weeks, you will remain in this room around the clock, unless there is an emergency of course, and I will tend to you. Every day I will be here just for you. It will be all the attention you've ever wanted."

She considered there might be a catch to all this, besides the continued captivity. It was too good to be true? Papa wasn't punishing her?

"There's just a basic few rules for you to follow. One: no potty training from now on, not ever. It's out of the question as long as I'm around, so it's diapers only. Two: you wear these..." He paused, indicating to her padded mittens.

"... at all times, unless I take them off. Three: if you attempt to fight me in any way, you will be blindfolded again and it'll be naptime for you. Understand? I promise nothing will be painful or scary. It will be as it always has been when you behave, but with just a few added changes to make this a good experience for the both of us." 

She just stared at him.

"And there's one more rule, although I wouldn't call it that exactly, and it's no tests. You won't have to use any ability of yours for the couple weeks. Think of it as a much needed break, a reward as long as you are good." He sounded almost happy, but she wasn't sure she was. He was right, none of this sounded painful and she supposed he was being perhaps nice, but she still wasn't relieved.

"I want you to forget about anything else for a while. It will just be you, me, Mr. Lion and Mr. Bear, and this room. Understand?"

She couldn't say anything other than 'okay' in fear of any alternative. She would never ever forget Will (and she vowed to find him in her head when she had the chance) or her friends, but he didn't have to know that. He lied and kept secrets, so why couldn't she?Two could play at this game.

Papa seemed satisfied and stood up, smiling at her more.

"You won't have to be a subject or a girl. You'll just be a baby."

She waited for him to leave, shut the door and let her think this all over, but he stayed. And stayed. That's when she noticed another cot had been set up next to her changing one and the side table next to it had a glass of water. Papa sat down on the new cot and took a sip from the glass while watching her. She grew uncomfortable and laid down, facing the wall so she didn't have to look at him. Was this a punishment? There wasn't anything to do when she couldn't even use her fingers and Papa was completely silent like when she failed a test and the disappointment radiated from him, but this felt different than that and she didn't like it because she didn't know what this was exactly. After what felt like an eternity, she heard the shuffling of shoes and the lights turn off, but no door closed. She rolled over after several minutes and glanced out the bars to see him lying down on the cot and she knew by the sound of his steady breathing that he was... asleep? He never slept in her room before. This confused her more, for she didn't think it was bedtime yet and she didn't want naptime, and her stomach gurgled loudly in the darkness, but she was too afraid to wake him. Maybe this was a test? She wished she could understand. If he was asleep, however, then maybe she could locate Will mentally without him knowing, so she closed her eyes and thought of him lying on that table and when the void appeared, she saw Will still lying down. It looked like he was in a hospital bed now, but he clearly wasn't aware at all as he seemed as listless and barely breathing as before. This unsettled her, but at least he wasn't all bloody and he had a gown covering his body. The image fizzled out and the blackness gave way as she jolted herself back to her crib and wiped her nose with the blindfold, head feeling too fuzzy, and she realized there wasn't much she could do in the helpless state that she was in, so she eventually joined Papa in snoozing. 

While Brenner had decided to fully busy himself with Eleven, he had left the brunt of the Byers to Dr. Owens, who wasn't pleased in the slightest and was frantically trying to come up with excuses and lies to present to Joyce Byers, who had just driven up in her green Pinto, and he could tell even from his vantage point above the parking lot that she was livid. He watched the Chief's truck come in only moments later and park roughly (and inaccurately) across two spaces and he jumped out, hand on his holster, which the security immediately took notice of.

"Sir, surrender your weapon! No outside firearms allowed on the premises!" a guard shouted from the entrance and Hopper threw up his middle finger, brandishing the gun. 

Oh boy, Owens thought, quickly making his way back inside and hoofing it to the front. Joyce stormed inside without waiting for anyone and the second she caught sight of Owens, she yelled.

"YOU CAN GIVE ME BULLSHIT ON THE PHONE AND CAUSE A FLAT TIRE ON MY CAR - WHICH I HAD TO WAIT A HALF HOUR FOR HOPPER TO SHOW UP AND COME WITH A SPARE - BUT YOU CANNOT KEEP ME FROM TAKING MY OWN TWO FEET AND WALKING ON THIS PROPERTY THAT YOU ARE HOLDING MY SON HOSTAGE IN! SO WHERE THE HELL IS MY BOY?!"

Owens put up his hands defensively and started to stutter out a lame excuse that he was not proud of, but Joyce didn't give him the chance. 

"WHERE IS MY BOY?!"

"Okay, uh, right this way." Owens led her and Hopper, who joined them (now unarmed, thanks to the several guards it took to get the gun from him after a scuffle) and they walked swiftly to the upper floor and into a quiet hospital room where Will was laying on the bed, hooked up to machines and tubes, completely still except for light assisted breathing. Joyce gasped and went right to his side while Hopper lingered in the doorway behind the doctor.

"Sweetie, it's Mom, I'm here. Will, baby, I'm here. I'm here now." She caressed his face and noticed he wasn't waking up. She whirled around to Owens. 

"What's wrong with him?" 

"He's in a coma. I'm sorry." 

"What?!"

Hopper shifted, wishing he had his pistol, and Owens quickly explained.

"We had to put him under a medically induced coma due to his Status epilepticus - that's uncontrollable seizuring that would be detrimental to his brain if we don't stop it - and the episodes he's been having, which may or may not be related to the Upside Down, have become worse and a coma was the only option to quell it."

Half truths, but better she not know what Martin had done a couple hours ago. Of course, if she happened to lift up her son's gown, she would see the fresh stitches on his chest that were done a short while ago to save him. Owens had been put in a rock and a hard place, with Martin forcing him to make a deal to exchange control; as long as Owens agreed to leave Eleven alone and only in the hands of him, then he would let Will live (if you could call a coma living), otherwise he would continue the dissection and dispose of the boy. It had pained Owens to choose to do so and give Eleven up completely to the man, but it was a matter of Will's life or death and there hadn't really been any other choice. He also wasn't willing to show the mother what had shown up on Will's brain scans yesterday and the danger of this cancer or virus, at least not today. This situation was a lot to swallow enough as it is. 

"How long are you guys gonna keep him like this, in this coma?" Hopper asked while Joyce was emotionally reeling and Owens honestly shrugged. 

"We don't know for sure. It could be days, weeks, even months in the worst case scenario. We are planning to wake him in two weeks from today, to see if there's a change in his condition and of course we're monitoring his vitals at all times. If there is a drastic turn of events, you two will be the first to know." 

"You think that HELPS? You think that really helps me feel better that, oh, we'll let you know if your son is brain-dead or not?" Joyce scoffed and was in near tears as she clutched Will's hand. 

"It's all I can do."

"Doc, why don't you tell us what's really going on," Hopper said forcefully, taking a step towards him.

"I told you. Will can't control these episodes and as long as he is conscious, there is a risk."

"But-but the visions! That shadow monster thing Will just drew! It has to mean something and he drew that right before this happened! Doesn't that play a role in this somehow? It could've caused this to happen to him and hurt him. Did he draw anything else before the coma?" Joyce demanded somewhat hysterically. 

"No, I'm afraid not, but I can show you the footage of his last episode if you'd like."

Joyce stood up at once, brazen. 

"Yes, show me."

Owens led her and Hopper out and into the control room and in front of several screens. Hopper couldn't help but scan for any sign of Eleven on them, but unsurprisingly there wasn't, and he noticed a few of the screens were dark. The doctor pointed down to a lower left screen and inserted the tape.

"Keep your attention right here. What you're about to see occurred yesterday at about 1300 hours." 

The screen blinked to life and the grainy security footage showed Will in the previous hospital bed, seated up and staring in front of him. Joyce leaned close, her face nearly touching the screen, and they all watched as Will abruptly jumped out of bed and Joyce's face scrunched in confusion at his violent actions and the way he threw his small body around the room. A couple minutes later he disappeared from view of the camera and Owens explained about him getting the scalpel knife from medical supplies in another room and coming back to destroy his stuffed lion. 

"See, there he has it, right there," Owens pointed out and Joyce frowned as Will began to tear into the plush. A couple minutes later, a nurse came in and he lunged at her, thrusting the blade to her chest before suddenly collapsing to the floor and Joyce put a hand to her mouth in horror as he then began to seize uncontrollably on the floor. Owens put a finger firmly on the button and stopped the tape, glancing at her.

"He was taken away shortly after that and was in intensive care until I decided it would be best to put him in the coma to avoid, well, you know." 

"Brain damage and death," Joyce whispered and backed away, Hopper holding onto her for support.

"Care to come with me to my office for a bit?" Owens asked gently and Hopper steered Joyce out to his office, where they all sat down and Owens looked at her seriously.

"I'm going to be frank here, Ms. Byers. Has Will ever behaved violently at home or at school perhaps? Before he was taken last year, and afterwards too, has he ever shown signs of more than normal aggression towards other kids, adults...?" 

Joyce shook her head, appalled at the very question he was asking.

"No, no... Will's not that kind of kid. He slays monsters with his friends in his game, but he would never hurt someone for no reason in real life. He's never bullied anyone, actually he's the one who all the other kids try to pick on, and he doesn't even like hunting animals. Lonnie..." Joyce shook off the name and the awful thought attached to it and continued.

"He's just the sweetest, kindest boy you'll ever meet. He cares about others and, sure, he's not rough and tumble like other boys his age I guess, you know, he's different, but he's not out to get anybody. He's always been sensitive and in his own little world because let's face it, it's pretty scary out there." Joyce's voice wavered and she blinked, glancing away and putting a hand up to wipe her eyes. Hopper rubbed her shoulder and Owens nodded. 

"Good. I never doubted that for a second." 

"Then why do you ask?" Hopper growled suspiciously and Owens hesitated.

"Because I want to rule out any possibility that this could be just Will acting out. Obviously not the seizures, but his behavior before is very concerning and part of the reason we're keeping him under. We also have to consider that he's also on the verge of puberty and has an increase of hormonal testosterone that could potentially be making this whole problem worse. That's just a theory, but like I said, overall we can't risk Will hurting others or even himself."

Joyce was quiet for a minute before she spoke in a conspiratorial tone.

"You... you don't think that's my boy, do you? What if that wasn't Will? That had to be someone or something else."

Hopper eyed her carefully and Owens kept this cryptic for them. 

"Your guess is as good as mine. The brain is a fickle organ and it doesn't take much damage to alter one's personality and functionality." 

Joyce's face hardened and she put a hand down on his desk.

"I want to stay here and I will stay here until Will wakes up."

"That's fine. We'll get a room ready for you." 

"No, I want to be with Will in his room. I'll sleep on the floor if I have to." 

"Oh, that won't be necessary, we'll get a cot set up for you. How about you, Chief?" 

Hopper shook his head and looked to Joyce, who seemed a bit let down at his decision.

"I can't, I'm sorry Joyce. But I'll visit every day and I'll get the news to Jonathan."

"I know." She sighed and got up, the two men following her back to Will's room where he just lay as unaware as possible and Joyce finally let her overwhelmed tears win. Hopper rubbed her shoulders and back for a while and she leaned into his chest. 

"I wish we could wake him up and he could tell us everything," she sobbed into his flannel shirt. 

"Yeah, but if that's not Will..." 

Joyce looked up at him.

"What do you think, Hop? What if Will has another personality in him or a body double and it could be from that other place? That's not possible, is it?"

"Personally, I'd believe most anything at this point."

They both stared at the comatose boy, wishing for solid answers, but also equally fearing the worst. 

Chapter Text

October 16, 1984 8:00 AM

WHEELER HOUSE, HAWKINS INDIANA 

The toaster popped up the two golden brown warm waffles almost as fast as Mike snatched them up and tossed them to his plate, his heart panging at the mere memory of Eleven enjoying Eggos and he gobbled both of his waffles up as quick as he could, glancing over at his mother who was busy with Holly and his father whose upper half was buried behind today's morning newspaper.

"Mom, can I go over to the hospital today after school to see Will?" Mike asked casually to his orange juice and the newspaper ruffled. 

"What's this? What hospital?" Ted Wheeler grumbled, putting the newspaper down on the table and Mrs. Wheeler rolled her eyes. 

"I told you a few days ago, Ted. Will is very sick and is in the government hospital. Oh, that reminds me, I need to give Joyce a call again; she wouldn't pick up yesterday and I hope she's doing okay," Karen commented, worry lingering behind her annoyance at her husband. 

"Oh, right. So how's he doing?" 

Mike made an exasperated noise and ignored his fairly clueless dad, instead focusing on Mom.

"Please? It's been ten days." She'd been reluctant to let him go there alone, stating it still gave her 'the creeps' despite how nice Dr. Owens was and Mike had made a face of disagreement and scoffed at that assessment, which then caused her to berate him about being respectful of the doctor treating Will. To say the least, she hadn't given him permission to go there by himself and he hoped now if he kept his tone in pleading, she would finally relent. By the look of sympathy on her face, it looked like it had worked like a charm.  

"... Alright, fine, but make sure Dustin and Lucas go with you." 

"Okay, see you later!" Mike jumped up at once and ran out of the room, grabbing his backpack and stuffing in a comic book and a few candy bars, and he snatched up his walkie-talkie. He jogged out the door and hopped on his bike, contacting his friends with the walkie-talkie.

"Dustin, do you copy?" 

The walkie-talkie crackled with Dustin's voice responding and asking him if had permission from his mom and Mike explained that yes, she did allow it, but there was that little matter of when.

"Mom thinks I'm going after school, but how about we go over there right now?"

"Mike, are you crazy? We'll be in trouble if we skip school!" 

Mike blatantly ignored him. 

"Lucas, do you copy? Change of plans; we're going to the Lab right now. Meet me there in ten." 

He cut off the protests on the other end and pedaled fast, cutting through backyards and across streets, winding his way to Hawkins Lab and through into the entrance where the security let him through. He dropped his bike down and waited for Dustin and Lucas to roll up moments later on their bikes. Dustin jumped off his, mid-yelling. 

"Mike, what the hell?! We have that math test today and we're going to be late and if Principal Coleman catches us it'll be - " 

"Bad! It'll look suspicious! It's bad enough they've got security at the door now!" Lucas added emphatically, but Mike just shook his head.

"When did you guys get so concerned about perfect attendance? I think we should screw school today and see Will. I can't wait any longer! My mom said that she hasn't been able to contact his mom and I dunno, I feel like something's off and I want to check on him."

"Okay, man, we'll come with you," Lucas replied, noting how serious he was, and nudging Dustin, who indicated to his own backpack. 

"Hey, so I brought some snacks for Will in case he's hungry and they probably feed him crappy food anyway," he said, holding up his stuffed backpack full of chips, granola bars, candy, and a soda pop.

"Cool, that's great. I brought X-Men in case he's bored," Mike told them, fishing around in the pockets of his backpack as they walked up to the front entrance and the guard at the door sneered slightly at the sight of them. 

"Hey look, it's Eeny, Meeny, Miny, and Moe minus one. Looking for the sick kid?"

Mike rolled his eyes. Did they pay these guys to be jerks or what? 

"Let us in, dipwad!" Lucas snapped, but the guard kept his hand on the door. Dustin started to say something quite rude, but Mike bumped his arm and spoke over him; it wasn't worth picking a fight and blowing their chances when they'd been here only five minutes. 

"Can you please just let us in? We want to check in on our friend." 

"Well, since you used the magic word 'please', I suppose I have to," the guard replied sarcastically, but he swung open the door and the boys clamored into the building. Mike hurried over to the front desk and the receptionist looked up with an expectant face before reaching over and writing their names down on little white pieces of paper. 

"Here, put these on and keep them on at all times while you're visiting." She stuck the name tag onto the front of Mike's shirt and handed the other two theirs. 

"What's this for?" Dustin asked, slapping his on the front strap of his backpack and Lucas frowned, carefully affixing it to his own shirt. 

"We didn't have these before," Mike pointed out.

"New protocol," the woman replied in a very clipped voice.

"Do we get tattoos as well?" Mike asked edgily and she scowled, pointing them down the hallway without answering. Dr. Owens met them halfway down and he seemed very serious.

"I was wondering when you three would come."

"Is Will okay?" Mike demanded at once as Owens escorted them up. He side glanced at all three of them and checked his watch, raising his eyebrows. 

"Wait a minute, aren't you kids supposed to be in school right about now?" 

Mike shrugged, looking at his friends, and then back to the doctor. Owens decided to let the issue slide and set on the proverbial back burner and he paused at the door of the hospital room. 

"It's good you came then because Ms. Byers could use some company," he said with a slight smile and Mike was surprised. 

"She's here? Is there something wrong?" 

Owens gave a shake of his head and unlocked the door, pushing through.

"I think it's best to see him for yourselves."

The boys entered the room and Joyce, clad in a green hospital scrubs outfit, immediately jumped up from her disheveled unmade cot next to Will's raised hospital bed and assortment of assisting equipment and IV machine, and broke into a sad and stressed smile, but Mike only saw his best friend laying completely motionless with an oxygen mask and tubes hooked up to him.

"Oh my God, what happened?" Dustin exclaimed, putting his arms up, pulling at his patriotic colored trucker hat anxiously, as Lucas stared in shock and all three of them moved over slowly to Will's bedside. Mike crouched down as Owens explained about Will's current comatose state, but Mike barely heard him, his head buzzing with shock and worry. He reached over and took a hold of Will's somewhat cold hand and swallowed. Lucas and Dustin were asking questions, but Mike almost didn't hear them and after a few minutes, Owens gave them all some privacy for a while. As soon as the door closed shut, Joyce began to tell them about her experience and all about the recorded episode that led to the induced coma. Mike listened a bit to her and finally tore his eyes away from Will as she then pulled out the drawing in question from her purse on a side table and lifted it up, showing the boys. They all sank into the gray plastic chairs and Dustin leaned forward, inspecting the drawing. 

"What is that?"

Joyce shook her head, pointing at the swirly black ink and the spidery shape. 

"It's some kind of entity, I guess, that Will claimed he saw during an episode and it attacked him. I think that this is what has been causing these episodes, I don't care whatever diagnosis Owens pins on him, this thing right here has to be a cause if not the cause," Joyce explained, her voice shaky but determined, and the boys all looked at one another.

"But that's not the Demogorgon," Dustin mentioned and before she could answer, Mike butted in.

"What if it's more powerful than the Demogorgon?" 

"We don't even know if this thing is real, Mike. No one else has seen it besides Will. We're going off of a drawing," Lucas argued.

"It has to be real if it's affecting Will like this," he shot back and Joyce agreed.

"So you think this shadow monster put Will in the coma?" Lucas asked, confused. 

"No, no, the doctors put Will under to stop his episodes. I don't how else to describe it, it looked like he was going ballistic and then seizing up..." she trailed off, glancing over at her son while Dustin and Lucas began to speculate about the Upside Down. Joyce joined them and they theorized in circles, but Mike's thoughts were drifting away from the conversation as he stared at his comatose friend, wishing he could get into his mind and figure out what had really happened. But hold on... there was someone else who could.

"We need Eleven," he suddenly spoke up over them and Joyce looked startled. 

"I-I don't know where she is though."

"Then let's ask Owens and tell him that El could maybe help us figure out what's going on with him. She's the only one who can get into his head and fight the Upside Down."

"Wait, I don't think that's a good idea to tell the doctor about this. What if he says no? He's working with the very man that was after El," Lucas cautioned. 

"Have you seen him around?" Mike asked of Joyce and she told him she hadn't.

"But I can go ask Dr. Owens and try to find out some information without telling him about her," Joyce offered, standing up, and she left the room, going to Owens' office a floor up and knocking lightly on the door.

"Come in," he called from inside and Joyce entered, trying to project an innocent expression with her wide dark brown eyes and a curled smile. 

"Hi, Dr. Owens... I really hate to bother you, but can you tell me what floor we're on? I really don't want to accidentally get lost going to the restroom or maybe outside for a smoke. This place is so big, you know, and all the halls look the same."

He glanced up, setting his pen down and eyeing her closely, softly clearing his throat.

"Well, there are six floors total to this building, including the basement, and we're on the fifth floor. You and Will are staying on fourth floor, does that clear things up?"

Joyce nodded and proposed another question as inconspicuously as she could.

"I'm just curious because I don't want to wander anywhere I might not supposed to be, so could you tell me which floors I'm not allowed on?"

Owens shook his head and picked his pen back up, writing on the paperwork on his desk.

"This isn't a prison, Ms. Byers, but for your information, I'd recommend you stay far from the bottom two floors and the basement because those are the contaminated levels that we've been struggling to contain, if you will. You're welcome to the upper floor however and the fifth and fourth are perfectly fine, so there's no need to worry about coming in contact with anything potentially dangerous. Thanks for checking with me, though."

She thanked him in turn and quickly left, going back down to Will's room, where his friends were eagerly waiting her return. She sat down first towards them and kept her head turned away from view of the camera in the corner.

"Okay, so it sounds like the forbidden floors are the first, second, and third, plus the basement," she told them in a whisper.

"She wouldn't be in the basement," Mike said with confidence, but Lucas groaned. 

"Do you know long it would take to search three whole floors of rooms? They'll catch us before we even get a chance at one of them."

"If the Upside Down is breaking through in the basement and that's where El escaped from, then I doubt the first floor is any much safer and Dr. Brenner wouldn't keep her so close to the epicenter, so I figure she has to be on the second or third," Dustin decided and none of them could disagree with that; it was reasonable.

"I have a plan figured out, but it's going to take steps," Mike proposed and this was news to his friends. 

"You do?" Dustin's mouth gaped and Lucas seemed taken aback.

"Yeah, I've been thinking about it for the last couple weeks, obviously before this happened to Will, and I hope it'll work."

He whispered the gist of his plan and Joyce was visibly worried, warning them.

"I don't like this, you guys will be in more danger and Owens could keep you from coming back if you go through with this."

"But finding El is the key to helping Will, I believe it," Mike said and Joyce considered, hemming and hawing.

"We'll have to leave and come back after we talk to Hopper."

She seemed more relieved at the mention of Hopper's name and then hesitantly relinquished her approval.  

"Okay, talk to him, but please be careful." 

"We'll do the best we can," Mike promised and he headed for the door, his friends taking a parting look at Will before they hurried outside with the mission on their minds. 

9:00 AM

HNL

Eleven crawled around aimlessly on the floor, using her toys as an obstacle course of sorts as Papa sat on a chair a few feet away, writing on a clipboard and shuffling through papers. She wasn't sure if he was studying her or just working on something else. She herself was bored to death of just crawling around the room, but it was better than being stuck in the crib with nothing to do but stare at the ceiling and cuddle her plush friends. At least Papa had taken off the mittens earlier so she could crawl and play, and he had the blindfold off as well where it was kept on the side table, but she wasn't sure how long it would last, since he didn't seem to trust her, recalling their conversation earlier.

"Eleven, can I trust you to keep your hands away from hurting me or using them to escape?" 

"Yes, Papa."

He had appeared doubtful, but slowly removed her mittens and she thought it odd he was asking her if he could trust her; usually it was the other way around.

"You're doing very well, Eleven." Papa's present voice interrupted her thoughts as she maneuvered in a curved line and then circled back around when she heard him speak again.

"Why, you just made a perfect figure eight."

She paused, not sure what that meant.

"Eight?" she asked in a tiny voice and for some reason that felt like a significant number to her, but she couldn't place why.

"Yes, you know your numbers, don't you? What comes after eight?" He was teasing her and it made her feel irritated, but she didn't want to make him angry. 

"Nine."

"Aren't you a smart little one, yes you are!" His praise showered her and she ducked her head down, moving into a seated position and rolling a red ball around unhappily. She should be relishing under his pride, but she knew it wasn't meant to be pure and whole with the slight mocking tone. Papa left his chair and sat down next to her, picking up a rattle and shaking it to get her attention. 

"Look what I have..."

She wasn't used to him being this playful, so she wasn't sure how to react, but it was clear he desired a positive reaction from her, just like when they did tests. Was this entire experience was one big test? What would happen if she failed?

"Look, Eleven! It's... Mr. Teddy Bear!" He pretended to gasp in surprise and reached over with his free hand to snatch the bear from a few feet away and dangle it in front of her with the rattle. She couldn't help but smile slightly as this was her favorite object out of everything else in this room.

"Hi there, Eleven," Papa spoke for the bear in a funny voice as she grabbed it and snuggled before setting it in her lap and accepting the rattle. She shook it vigorously and Papa smiled in approval, getting up to his feet and back over to his chair. A few minutes passed and without him engaging with her, she found herself quickly getting bored, losing interest in the rattle and going back to rolling the ball around. She had a sudden urge to throw the ball at the wall, to see it bounce. She used her telekinesis without even thinking and projected the ball at the wall, where it hit with a smack and then indeed bounced quite well past her and bumped into Papa's legs.

"What was that?" he asked, looking down, and she smiled, tossing the ball up in the air with her mind. 

"Papa, play!" she cried and the ball hit his lap and he jumped up.

"No. Drop the ball," he told her sternly, but somehow this was funny to her and she mentally threw the ball at him again, this time it hit his chest. That was a mistake, judging by his face, and she quickly let go of the ball, letting it roll away on the floor as he went to the small side table, yanking open a drawer and picking out a loaded syringe. She scuttled backwards in fear, clamoring over her toys and near towards the crib.

"No! No! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Papa!" Eleven screamed as he stalked towards her and she lunged away, but there wasn't anywhere to hide or escape. He swiftly brought his hand down and the needle plunged into her neck sharply, the piercing pain momentarily stunning her. He stepped back, eyeing her carefully as he set the empty syringe back on the table and she began to tip forward in fast acting drowsiness, but not enough to make her collapse fully. She wavered between awake and sleep, her body weak and her mind sluggish. He pulled her up off the floor and she felt herself being put on her back on the changing cot, unsure if she had used her diaper or not; she was too out of it to tell. Eleven stared up at him and his face was blurry with streaks of light and she blinked, but he wouldn't become clearer.

"Pa-Papawww..." she slurred and he shushed her, taking out a pacifier and sticking it to her mouth. She sucked on it rhythmically and it made her feel even more soothed as he backed away, cleaning up the toys off the floor out of tripping range and storing all balls away, since she clearly couldn't be responsible with them. He gathered up his clipboard and papers, leaving for a minute out the door before coming back with a gray blanket draped over his arm, a thick book, and a bottle of milk for her. He tossed the blanket and book to his made cot and then went over to her, and she made a noise around the pacifier and he removed it, only to replace it with the bottle. She clutched it in her hands and he made sure she could hold it herself before he went to sit down, cracking open his book and beginning to read. Eleven sat up somewhat with difficulty and focused on the bottle; feeling even more tired the longer she drank and at some point the bottle dropped from her hands and onto her chest. A minute later, it was taken by Papa and she was re-positioned onto his lap facing him and he patted her back, allowing her to burp over his shoulder.

"Very good," he murmured, rubbing her head. She felt herself drooling a bit on his suit and she wanted to go into sleep, but it wasn't happening. She stayed, rather catatonic on his lap with her head on his shoulder, and staring blankly at the white walls as Papa rocked her gently and she inhaled his clean aftershave scent. Some part of her wanted to tear away and run, but most of her felt a sense of dull safeness and she clung to him, even though he'd been the one who had painfully injected her just a short time ago. He didn't make much sense to her. Actually, nothing at all made sense at the moment and she could care less about it. 

9:30 AM

HAWKINS POLICE STATION

"Okay, let's go over this crazy plan again. I'll be the one to look for El and you guys do the diversions," Mike told his friends as they were sitting on their bikes out on the sidewalk in front of the police station. It had been decided that Lucas should be the one to carry a weapon, ideally his slingshot, but Mike realized that would hardly be enough against guards with guns. 

"Lucas, do you think you could handle a gun?" 

"A gun?! Why me?" 

"Because I trust you and your dad's a war vet. You have access to all his old military gear, so you could get a hold of a gun, right?" 

"No way. It's completely locked up in my parent's bedroom because of my little sister and even if I broke in and was able to get it, my dad would know immediately and it would be super bad. I don't want to lie to him and he'd never trust me again. So no way."

"Hopper has guns," Dustin offered the obvious, sweeping an arm towards the station.

"Let's go in and talk to him. He knows how important this is and now that Will is out of the running, there's no one else on the inside to help. Owens won't do it, he's too tied to Brenner," Mike affirmed and they threw their bikes down with a clatter outside and rushed inside the police station, dismissing Flo telling them to slow down, and dodged around the other officers to Hopper's office.

"Hey, you guys have a problem or something?" Officer Callahan asked as Mike pounded on Hopper's door.

"Bet their bikes got a flat tire like Joyce Byers had the other day when the Chief rushed outta here like the whole town was on fire. You hear about that?" Officer Powell remarked to his fellow officer as the door swung open and Hopper stepped out, taking one look at the boys before he ushered them outside, ignoring judging comments from Callahan and Powell. He pulled them away from the windows and over to the side of the building.

"You guys are here about Will, is that what this is about? You saw him today, didn't you?" Hopper asked in a low voice. 

"Yes!" Dustin and Lucas answered at once, but Mike blurted out 'no' and they all looked to him curiously.

"I mean yeah, kind of, but it's more about El too and that's why we came to you. We need your help to find her," he started to explain, but Hopper stopped him. 

"No, I don't think this is a good idea with Will being the way he is right now. If we get the girl out, they could use it against us and pull the plug on Will and that's the last thing I'd ever want. I know you want to help her, and I do too, but now is not the time when Will is under their care and Joyce is there too." 

"No, listen. This isn't about just freeing El; it's about her being able to possibly help Will because she could find him in her head and maybe communicate with him telepathically and also try to find this shadow monster thing that's after him. She's the only one who can fight the monsters of the Upside Down. We need her for Will's sake." 

Hopper reconsidered and scratched his beard thoughtfully. 

"Alright, say we try. You got some kind of plan that isn't stupid or impulsively violent?" 

"Um... we need a gun?" Lucas squeaked out and Hopper groaned, rubbing his forehead. 

"Jesus, I can't just legally give you a gun and I don't want any of you getting hurt." 

"Well, Lucas has a slingshot, but it's not strong enough against a bunch of guards. A gun would be more helpful," Mike justified.

"So you've decided that you're going to shoot and likely wound or kill several people instead?" Hopper snorted. 

"Uh, yeah, I guess when you put it like that."

He stared at them for a long time, almost smiling, and nodding. 

"You'll help us?" Mike sounded optimistic. 

"No," Hopper replied flatly and Lucas moaned.

"No? But you could do it, you could bring the gun!" 

"I happen to be an adult man who is Chief of Hawkins Police." 

"So it's a no go? We're running out of time and El isn't doing her part to escape, so we need to rescue her ourselves and help Will." Mike sounded as desperate as he could and Hopper closed his eyes, taking a breath. 

"... Alright. I can't believe I'm doing this," Hopper muttered and led them over to his police truck. 

"Okay, so you come with me so I can show you how to fire a gun properly because I'm assuming you haven't had a lot of practice?" Hopper said to Lucas, getting into the driver's side. 

"What about us?" Mike called out and Hopper yelled to wait there at the station until they got back. 

"Don't go anywhere and I'm dead serious about that! Stay put!" 

"Fine!" Mike and Dustin yelled back as the truck drove off and Lucas gave them a thumbs up from the passenger side window. Dustin plopped himself down on the sidewalk and began rooting through his backpack for the snacks. 

"Do you think El would like these?" He held up a wrapped 3 Musketeers chocolate bar. 

"Maybe." Mike shrugged and began to regret not bringing an Eggo from breakfast with him in case this really did work and they found her. He couldn't believe they were really, actually going through with this. 

"Do you think she'll be different?" Mike asked quietly to Dustin.

"Whaddya mean? Because she wears diapers now, I guess?" He chuckled slightly and unwrapped the candy, taking a large bite.

"It's not funny," Mike snapped. 

"Sorry."

"What if he's really screwed her up and she'll never be the same? I don't want her to be like some baby and dependent on someone to care for her for life because of this. She could barely talk when we first met her and she doesn't know much about anything normal. Lucas had said she's a freak, but now she could be like a circus freak! She doesn't deserve any of this crap from Brenner and what if she's forgotten me and - "

"You're being too hypothetical, Mike. We won't know until she's with us," Dustin interrupted and then offered him a granola bar, but Mike had already lost his appetite. 

"Why do you always eat when you're stressed?" Mike accused, still snapping mad. 

"I do not every time!" Dustin exclaimed, eyes wide. 

"Yes, you do though! It's so inconvenient!"

"No, I don't and besides, when I do, I'm getting energy for our travels!" 

"You're always like this no matter if we're playing D&D or running around in a crisis, it's always about the snacks!"

"So what? C'mon, Mike, what's the matter with you?!"

They began senseless bickering that took Mike's mind off of El and what they were facing, at least until Hopper's truck rumbled up fifteen minutes later and Lucas jumped out, holding a pistol in his hands.

"Keep the safety on at all times until you're ready and always, always, keep it pointed down and away from anyone who isn't your target. Got it?" Hopper was telling him seriously.

"Got it," Lucas answered confidently, adjusting the pistol in his grip and grabbing his backpack to put it in. 

"You sure you kids are ready for this?" 

"As ready as we'll ever be," Mike responded grimly. 

"I'm going to be in the parking lot as back up in the event this goes awry. If you're outnumbered, stop and surrender, don't let them fire at you or hurt you, okay? Don't make this a battle. This isn't worth a trip to the ER or dying over. And if you can't find her or she's put in jeopardy because of you, give up."

"We understand." The boys left on their bikes,  Hopper following behind them in his truck to Hawkins Lab. 

"Well, men, it's up to us," Mike said, getting off his bike in the parking lot and striding forward as though they were on the front-lines of battle. And we are, Mike thought.

A battle for the most amazing girl in the world. 

"Shit, guys, I'm nervous," Lucas admitted, shifting the backpack on his shoulder and feeling the extra weight inside. Dustin tried to assure him, but Mike was more worried about their bags being checked. 

"They've never done it before," Dustin reminded him. 

"I just don't like this new 'protocol' shit. It's like they know we're up to something." 

"Keep a calm face and walk like you've been here a thousand times," Dustin suggested as they approached the entrance. 

"Back again?" It was the same guard as before and Mike smiled, perhaps too much, because the guard narrowed his eyes. 

"Whaddya think this is, a playground?" 

"We find it visually and intellectually stimulating," Dustin said in a lofty voice and the guard raised an eyebrow as Mike gave his friend a bizarre glance while Lucas just clenched his backpack straps. 

"Just go on in," the guard told them, visibly annoyed, and opened the door and the boys walked in, waving to the receptionist.

"See? We kept them on," Mike called out, indicating to their name tags and she just wordlessly pointed them down the same hallway. They picked up their pace once away from prying eyes and hurried along, up the elevator, and passing no one until they reached Will's room and a nurse was just outside the door. She stopped and asked why they were visiting again. 

"We, uh, well we wanted to - " Mike started, but suddenly Dustin made his growling/purring noise that echoed in the hall and the nurse stared, utterly perplexed as Dustin flashed his "pearls".

"You like that?" he spoke suggestively and Mike sought to keep a straight face. Dustin made his noise again at the nurse, but it had absolutely zero effect of what he was going for.

"Plan B," Lucas muttered as the nurse shook her head, unamused, and his face fell. 

"If you're just here to be a nuisance, I'm going to kindly ask you to leave." 

"I don't feel good," Dustin abruptly uttered and the nurse took a double look at him, the second more shrewd than the first.  

"What doesn't feel good? Are you - "

Dustin lurched over and made a loud retching noise that acted as a signal to Mike and Lucas and they took off running down the hall, the nurse yelling after them. They waited for the elevator, the doors sliding away after thirty seconds and revealing a couple of scientists stepping out, a man and a woman, who looked at them suspiciously and Lucas reached into his backpack, pulling out the heavy silver pistol. Gasps of shock and fear emitted from them and the woman shakily put her hands up.

"Tell us where Eleven is!" Mike demanded as the gun quivered in Lucas's grasp. The two scientists glanced at each other and the man started to reach for the intercom on the wall.

"Please! I don't want to hurt you!" Lucas yelled, his hands shaking and fingers clutching around the cool raw metal. 

"T-Third floor," the man stuttered out and the woman nodded, backing away. 

"Thank you!" Mike and Lucas exclaimed, hurrying into the elevator and Mike bounced uneasily on his toes inside the elevator, which took them down to the third floor. Lucas could feel himself trembling, fiddling with the gun and remembering Hopper's instruction, and he kept his eyes trained on the lit button depicting number three. Mike realized the elevator was going to be a bit of a problem because of people going in and out of them, and he worried there would be more scientists like previously when the doors opened, but he'd planned for this after seeing Dustin's soda. As soon as the doors opened and he was faced with two men in white coats, he promptly yanked the cap off the heavily shook up bottle and held it up, fizzy liquid spraying towards them. They blinked and shielded their faces as Lucas and him ran past, traveling out into the hallway, and then they heard the sudden blare of the alarms and Lucas swore. 

"We don't have much time, I'll try to hold them off!" Lucas ran towards the clomping of many shoes coming around the corner and he found himself face to face with several guards, weapons drawn.

"MIKE, GO!" Lucas shouted and Mike felt his skin jump at the sharp sound of a gunshot and he ran the other direction, determined not to look back, but praying that Lucas would make it out alive and not full of bullet holes. He cringed at another gunshot, followed by yells and two more, but Mike ran like hell away down the hall, bolting down the halls, flying over the tiled floor, and then he slowed down somewhat, going from door to door, hoping to see any sign of Eleven's room. At last he saw a door off to the left with a placard on the face of it.

011.

His breath caught in his throat and he wondered if this was really her room or maybe he'd made a mistake and this could be an outdated room. What if she had been moved elsewhere? There was only one way to find out. He grabbed the door knob, expecting it to be locked (which in that case would leave him with yelling at the top of his lungs and hopefully she would hear him and try to get to the door and if she couldn't do that, she would call to him), but it swung open easily. Mike froze, staring straight ahead at the sight in front of him with shock.

Eleven was naked. She was lying on her back on a cot and there was a large white padded diaper under her bottom, yet to be affixed to her, but Dr. Brenner was there in the process of doing exactly that. He was hunched over, pulling the front part of the diaper up over her crotch and to her stomach as she was yanking at his black tie with her hands and mouthing on the tip of it while she was... giggling?!

Brenner's head snapped up at the open door and his eyes met Mike's in complete surprise. Eleven followed his gaze and turned her head to the right and her mouth went agape in shock, the tie falling down out of her grasp, as she stared at him with abnormally glassy eyes.  

"Mike?!"

Mike felt rooted to the spot as he watched Brenner firmly place a hand down on her stomach, intent on securing the diaper to her, as she cried out Mike's name and began to kick her legs. Then Mike did something he ashamedly thought he would never do. 

He ran.

El's yells of his name echoed back after him as he bolted back down the hall the way he came and into the elevator. Hands shaking like crazy, he hit the button to go up and he flung himself out as soon as the doors slid apart, dashing down corridors until he ran straight into a guard. 

"Where do ya think you're going?" the man growled and Mike gritted his teeth, letting him grab him by his shirt collar and drag him to the main entrance where Lucas and Dustin had also been apprehended, where Mike was relieved to see Lucas without the gun and without any injuries. Their faces searched his with a thousand unspoken questions and he avoided them, feeling shame pile up inside him as they all were dragged to Dr. Owens, who thankfully (and rather miraculously) let them off the hook and bailed them out, only dismissing them to leave and not come back for the rest of the day. Mike could tell he knew they had tried to get to Eleven and he could almost sense the pity from him as they were pushed out the front doors in exit, which made him feel worse. He grabbed his bike with the others and took off, wheels whirring over pavement and into the parking lot. They saw Hopper was leaning against his parked truck and he started forward in slight alarm, realizing El certainly wasn't with them.

"We're okay! We just gotta go!" Dustin and Lucas called and the boys pedaled as fast as they could out of the place. Confused, Hopper turned to see Dr. Owens come walking out with a fast gait and he went straight to him.

"That was your doing, wasn't it?!" he exclaimed angrily and Hopper shrugged. 

"Actually it was theirs. I just had to assist them a little bit."

"Well, I hope you're happy with how this looks; five men are currently in critical condition, one is dead, and I have stressed and scared staff members that didn't expect to go to work today and having a boy point a gun at their faces."

"We just want the girl," Hopper told him tiredly. 

"Obviously, enough so you'll use unnecessary violence via thirteen year old kids. Do you understand all that I've been trying to do here? That Will is only alive right now because of my staff and I? Do you understand that?!"

"We thought if we can get Eleven, she can help us. What if she can help Will out of this coma and contact this monster that he drew?" 

"You know, you could have just come inside and asked me that instead of causing unnecessary violence."

"Pot calling the kettle black," Hopper commented under his breath, which Owens chose to ignore. 

"Don't pull this kind of stunt using kids again. You should know better than this." 

Hopper's fists clenched at the condescension and he struggled to keep his tone somewhat even.  

"We're desperate, Doc, because you're not helping her."

"I told you, I CAN'T! My hands are tied!"

"Because of your buddy, Brenner?"

Owens' face soured and he glanced away, clearing his throat.

"We're separated and not on speaking terms at the moment."

Hopper stared at him for a full ten seconds, almost wanting to laugh at the absurdity of that statement.

"So what happened? When did you file for divorce?" he asked in jest, letting a grin spread and Owens glared at him.

"I'm not kidding. I'm under strict orders to not disturb him because I made a deal, a trade-off let's say, to let him take Eleven full time under his restricted care in exchange for Will's life."

Hopper's grin vanished and he felt like he knew where this conversation was going.

"So you throw a kid under the bus to save another, huh?" he muttered bitterly.

"You would have done the same and, in fact, you actually did last year."

Don't remind me.

"Look, I'm just Chief of Police, I don't have your mucky government ties and strings to pull around."

"And I'm just a doctor who is trying to keep everything afloat."

They were silent for a minute, Owens crossing his arms against the chill of the air and Hopper stared in thought at the hood of his truck, rubbing a thumb across the groves before looking up.

"Brenner's really the one who's boss in this, isn't he? All this time?"

Owens made a series of noncommittal noises in his throat before finally acknowledging.

"Alright, so he is for the most part. Eleven has been his from day one and he's deeply committed to her, and then there's me who comes into this operation thinking I can change it. I was a fool to think I could change anything or clean up the way he conducts his methods." Now Owens was the one sounding incredibly bitter and Hopper almost felt sorry for the guy.

"He's... possessive of her and maybe we both need to know when we're licked. I don't know how much more I, you, or those kids can try."

Hopper couldn't believe the meekness this man was displaying right now. 

"So you're just gonna give up, Doc? You're just gonna let your bravery and will to fight die on the table?" 

"I don't want to, I don't want it to be like this, but he won't stop at nothing to get control." 

"Talk to him. Tell him he can have his special little pet project, but that she can help Will and may provide an answer to help us understand what this dimension wants from him." 

"I told you, I - " 

"Try," Hopper said with such force that it convinced Owens to leave and go back inside. Tired of standing in the chilly morning autumn air, Hopper opened his truck door and sat in the cab until after only ten minutes, Owens came back outside and Hopper got out to meet him halfway across the lot. 

"Well? What did he say?"

"After giving me a hard time, he said that Eleven is incapacitated and unable to comprehend anything for the rest of the day."

Hopper honestly couldn't tell if he was lying or not.

"He is however interested in your idea, but doesn't want to wake the boy up just yet and ruin his 'progress' with Eleven. I'll tell you what, though. Keep those kids in line and two weeks from now, we're going wake Will up and see how he's doing. Martin will let me do that, at least."

"So it's a waiting game until then?"

"I'm afraid so. I hope you can understand."

Hopper grunted, unwilling to fully agree because how could one understand any of this situation truly, and he got into the cab of his truck, starting the ignition and Owens held up a hand in farewell.

"See you around, Chief."

Hopper drove off, promising himself that he'd see the end of Dr. Martin Brenner somehow, someway. 

11:30 AM

CASTLE BYERS

"It was the weirdest thing I've ever seen," Mike told his friends in a quiet voice as they sat inside their friend's fort; Mike's decision, even though it felt wrong to be in Will's special place without him, but it was one of the only safe places from any government surveillance.

"It was like... like she wasn't the same person we knew. I don't know if she was drugged or what, but she looked almost happy to be with him and she freaked out when she saw me. I freaked out when I saw her and I didn't know what to do, so I ran. I'm sorry guys, I'm a stupid coward. It's all my fault."

Truth be told, it had scared him seeing El like that. It deeply scared him because she seemed to be almost enjoying it, letting that bastard - her captor, her kidnapper - putting her in a fricking diaper. Worse than that, she had seemed so... vulnerable. That moment he looked in her glazed over eyes, he saw nothing of the strong, extraordinary girl who had saved them, found Will, gone after the bad people, and who had seemed to sacrifice herself to the Demogorgon. But at that moment with that man, she had only seemed helpless and brainwashed. It made his skin crawl to wonder all that Brenner had done to make her that way because no way did she volunteer to act like that. It was purely disgusting to him, but more than that it was just plain terrifying.

"So it was a total bust, but now what do we do?" Dustin interrupted matter-of-factly. 

"Plan C," Mike answered quickly and his two friends stared at him. 

"Uh, what's Plan C?" Dustin asked. Mike's eyes met his and Lucas's and he saw the same feeling shared in their expressions.

"I don't know," they all said at the same time and Mike shook his head in frustration.

"No! We have to figure something out."

"But... I don't really want to say this, but what if she... doesn't want to be free now? What if she refuses to come with us because she's been so brainwashed? Have you considered that?" Lucas wondered with trepidation and Mike felt more horror creep into him. 

God, today sucks.

"No, El recognized me and she called out for me. That counts as wanting freedom."

"Or... she just recognized you and was surprised to see you," Lucas countered and Mike began to banter with him.

"We need Will," Dustin spoke up loudly over them and Mike gave an exasperated noise. 

"He's in a coma!"

"Yes, but he'll wake up in a couple weeks, isn't that what Dr. Owens said?" Dustin reminded them. 

"That's IF he wakes up and he's recovering or normal again. Owens said technically it could be weeks or even months - worst case scenario," Lucas added.

"So let's hope he does and he's normal. If this shadow monster wants him that badly, it'll need him conscious right?" Mike felt an idea creeping to him.  

"I guess..."

They were silent for a minute or two and then Mike snapped his fingers.

"I have another idea, but it'll have to wait until Will's back to us. Let's hope it's soon."

"Hope isn't enough. I'll talk to Hopper again, maybe he'll have advice," Lucas said. 

"No, I don't want him to get in trouble. We wait until they wake up Will and depending on what he's like, we convince Owens to get El to help and to hell with whatever Brenner thinks. If Will is fine, then we can forget the whole thing but El will still be trapped, so we'll have to find another way," Mike explained.

"He's not going to give her up to us. He went this far, why would he change his mind? We know he doesn't give a shit about Will's well being," Dustin pointed out about Brenner and Mike took a deep breath.

"Will is going to make him - all of the doctors there - care because if he's connected to the Upside Down, then he can maybe cause it to come." 

"Are you suggesting he let the monster come through and attack?" Dustin gasped. 

"Yes, that's what I'm hoping for. Enough of this bullshit, we'll give the bad people a taste of their own medicine of what they caused to this town in the first place." 

"Mike, what if we'd be sentencing all those doctors and scientists to death if the Upside Down takes over? We know what the Demogorgon could do to people; who knows what this spider monster could do," Dustin worried. 

"Then they die! They're bad people, Dustin! Don't you want El out of there?!" Mike's voice raised substantially. 

"Yeah, but - "

"Dude, I'm exhausted. Let's go home and see how pissed our parents are for ditching half a day of school and think this all over," Lucas suggested, breaking their conversation and pinching the bridge of his nose.  

"Should we tell them Will's in a coma?" Dustin asked, still huffing at Mike.

"No way, but I'll tell my Mom that Joyce is at the 'hospital' with him and that's why she can't return any phone calls," Mike replied as he left Castle Byers. The air felt crisp and cold, making him shiver in his jacket and he thought of El out on her own in the woods last year and he shuddered to think what would have happened if they hadn't bumped into her that fateful night. She deserved a better life than with Brenner even if she had been conditioned into liking to wear diapers; she hadn't asked for any of this and she was too special to be treated like a freak. Mike clenched his fists in anger. 

She's too special for that creep. He doesn't deserve her... I do. 

7:00 PM

HNL

It was dark inside Eleven's nursery and it was supposed to be her bedtime, but Brenner wasn't sleeping a wink since he had put her down in the crib and she had cried relentlessly for the past hour. He wasn't sure how someone could even have that many tears to release (he himself certainly had never produced even half of all her tears during the course of his lifetime) and he couldn't understand why she didn't give up and go to sleep. He was regretting not giving her a stronger dose of the sedative earlier as the sobs and whines continued, reverberating throughout the enclosed space, and Brenner pulled the thick gray blanket up over his head and pressed his ear to his pillow, but it hardly stifled the noise. He rolled over onto his back and stared upward, grinding his teeth. Now he knew what he had been missing when he left her alone and upset... and it pained him. 

"Eleven, stop crying," he demanded to the ceiling, but her sobs only intensified.

"Eleven, please."

More crying and sniffling. 

"Eleven!"

Finally Brenner swung himself off the cot and over to the crib to bring the side down and he could see from the faint yellow light from the night light that she was curled up with her fists balled up and her face a complete wet mess. She had kicked the stuffed animals to the far end and crumpled up her baby pink blanket at her feet. He considered caving in and getting a nurse, but that would defeat the purpose of this time with her. It wasn't that he didn't care, he did, he just didn't care for her tears that he was certain were because of that boy. Brenner sighed, removing a handkerchief from his pocket and leaning forward to wipe her face as she sniffled and whimpered. It was a foreign action to be cleaning her tears, usually he let her cry, but he couldn't stand it any longer and she responded to the affection by leaning into the cloth, rubbing her cheeks into it and he cradled the back of her head.

"Oh, Eleven, look at how messy you are. Don't you see, this is what crying does? There's no need to be so upset."

She pushed his hand with the handkerchief away and scooted backwards a couple inches.

"Are you going to be quiet now?"

She blinked and rubbed her eyes as he folded the handkerchief up.

"It's time for sleep now, little one."

"No!" she suddenly burst out and he frowned, turning around and walking over to the side table and pulling out the drawer to get another syringe. He brought it over and she recoiled at the sight of it.

"Does someone need a visit from Mr. Needle?"

She shook her head hard and buried her face into the blanket. He nodded.

"That's what I thought."

He hesitated for a minute, waiting to see if she'd continue crying, but she had ceased and he backed off, tucking the syringe back into the drawer for another situation. She peeked up from the blanket as he came back over to her and she grabbed his arm gently, tugging.

"Papa has to get some rest too, Eleven," he irritably told her, pulling his arm away and beginning to bring up the bars into position. She whined and picked up the two stuffed animals, holding them up to him. He wasn't sure what she was trying to tell him and he was too tired to mess around with her.

"Okay, Mr. Lion and Bear will keep you company. How about this too?" He fumbled for the pacifier and gave it to her, and she stared down at it in her hand. 

"Use that, it'll calm you down."

Once the bars were in place, he stepped away and went to his cot, exhausted, and sat down, readjusting his pillow and sipping from the glass of water on the table. A moment later, he could hear the soft sucking sound of her using the pacifier and her steady breathing. 

Finally, peace at last.

"Goodnight, Eleven," Brenner whispered to the darkness as he laid down and then promptly dropped off. 

Chapter Text

October 17, 1984 10:00 AM

HAWKINS NATIONAL LABORATORY, HAWKINS INDIANA

"Good morning, Eleven."

She stirred upon hearing Papa's voice nearby and she kept her eyes closed, face still feeling puffy from all the crying, and not wanting to wake up and face him after yesterday.

"Eleven."

She listened to the crib bars sliding down and the rustling of clothing as he bent down and the creak of a chair being sat in, but she still pretended to be asleep, hoping Papa would get tired of her and leave for once, but she knew he could be very patient when he wanted to be. One aspect of him staying in the same room with her day and night was the fact that she could predict his schedule and that he was always up before she was.

"I know you are still upset, but it doesn't make any difference while you're in here with me. I thought you would enjoy this devoted time with me; isn't that what you've always wanted? My attention?" 

Right now she only really wanted to go back to sleep and forget all the pain he had ever caused her.

"Want Mike," she mumbled, covering her head with her blanket, and there was a lengthy pause. 

"I don't think that boy wants much to do with you anymore; he ran far away as soon as he saw you."

A thousand tiny sharp shards lodged themselves into her chest and she forced her eyes to open, pushing the blanket away off her. Papa was staring at her and his expression was smothered in sympathy.

"I hate to be the one to tell you this, Eleven, but many boys just aren't interested in little girls after a while when they can't play with them anymore. To him you were only a shiny new toy and now I think he's frightened of you because you are not what he wanted."

Her face crumpled and she wanted to scream away his words. He was lying, wasn't he? The scary part was she wasn't sure if he was. Maybe Mike was scared of her; he looked shocked upon seeing her with Papa and he had ran away. 

"No, no," she whimpered and he began to shush her, fingers reaching for her cheeks.

"Shh... it's alright, I'm here, that's what matters. I'll never be frightened of you or see you as a monster; you're my special little girl and you always will be," he reassured her and his hands were all encompassing on her face. She desperately wanted the comfort over the truth, so she leaned into him and almost went toppling out of the crib if his arms hadn't caught her. She sat on his lap and he slowly rocked her for a bit before gently prying her hands away.

"No," she cried, latching onto him further and he smiled sadly, rubbing her back.

"We should have breakfast," he told her, although he also did not really want to let go either. 

"Would you like a special treat?"

She detached herself and sat back, staring at him hopefully and he nodded, answering his own question.

"I think so. Wait here, I'll be right back." Brenner stood up and left the room, leaving her to stay where she was, perched on the edge of the crib, and wondering what it could be. After a few minutes, he came back with a tray in his hands and she leaned forward, seeing a single yellow checkered circle that had been sliced up and the usual bottle of milk set on the green plastic. Papa smiled, setting the tray in his lap as he sat down in front of her and he poked at the food.

"Someone told me you developed a taste for waffles, Eggos in particular. You're not a big girl, so I can't have you eating a whole waffle, but it's been cut up into pieces for you with some syrup."

She didn't care what state it was in, just as long as it was a waffle, an Eggo!

"Want! Please, Papa!" she cried, reaching for it. He fed her the golden yellow soft pieces damp with warm syrup and she was sure this was the best food he'd ever given her and certainly the kindest action he'd done since she'd been here because it was what she actually wanted to eat and reminded her of the outside world. Papa seemed pleased as she ate and polished off the last chunk.

"You really like it, don't you?"

She nodded and he wiped her mouth with a cloth. He lifted up the bottle and she accepted it, drinking while he overlooked her.

"Aren't you happy, Eleven?"

She hesitated, but nodded again because that's what he wanted and quite honestly that's what she wanted too. If he stayed like this and never got mad at her or forced her to do awful things, she wouldn't want to leave his side. But then Mike crashed through her thoughts and his friends, and Will, and the other people outside these walls and it spoiled her emotions of loyalty to Papa. Mike's face had seemed horrified; did he really see her as a monster now? Was she like Papa?

She couldn't finish the milk and dropped the bottle to the floor, concerning Papa somewhat.

"What's wrong? Is it too much?"

"Not hungry," she mumbled and he picked the half drunk bottle up, taking it and the empty tray away to the side table. 

"I think you need playtime," he decided for her and he helped her down out of the crib, setting her down on the floor to the toys. She pushed a few blocks together as he sat beside her and then lifted her onto his lap from behind, arms securing around her waist. She froze at the closeness.

"Papa?"

"Papa's here," he affirmed, squeezing her a little too tightly and she huffed, tossing a block. He picked up a wooden block with a "B" on one side and showed it to her.

"B is for Bear. Can you say Bear?"

She frowned, not liking this game or whatever he was trying to do, but she wasn't in a place to exactly resist with him so close. All her life she'd wished for him to be caring and loving, but not in this way of feeling like she was just following his desires and she had to put on a show to please him.

"What do you think Mr. Teddy Bear would like? Three blocks or four blocks?" Papa asked, already moving onto another question and this one she would answer. 

"Zero." 

"Zero? That's silly, Eleven. Of course Mr. Bear wants blocks and you should too, so how many?" 

She sighed, giving a random answer. 

"Five."

"Five? That's a lot of blocks to stack. Do you think you can do it?"

The tone of his voice, the testing voice, made her instinctively use her telekinesis and five blocks began to levitate up a few feet in the air. Papa glanced over at the teddy bear watching from the crib.

"I think Mr. Bear is impressed. What do you think, Mr. Lion?" Papa asked to the floppy lion half hanging out the bars and Eleven kept her concentration on the hovering blocks.

"I think he would like six blocks."

Eleven rose another block to join the others and she felt Papa squeeze her, causing her stomach to gurgle uncomfortably. 

"That's very good, isn't it?"

"Okay." She dropped all the blocks, plunking them down, one top of the other into a small tower, and sighed again.

"Are you tired?" Papa asked with a slight threatening additive behind the simple question and she shook her head.

"No, Papa."

"I'm glad because as long as you are a good girl today, Mr. Needle won't have to come out to play."

She flinched at the mention of that and wriggled, wishing Papa would let go of her.

"I'm good," she told him and he jiggled her a bit before finally releasing his grasp around her and she crawled away to the crib, retrieving the stuffed animals. She hugged the bear and breathed in his fur, wishing she could recapture the scent from when she first received him, but he only now smelled of Papa. She set him down, unhappy. 

"Eleven, what's wrong?" 

She looked to him and her face tried its best not to crumple in on itself. 

What was wrong?

Mike was gone and he possibly didn't like her anymore, she didn't know what happened to Will, and there were still monsters in this place, weren't there? On top of that, she didn't want to be here with Papa constantly, playing with these same toys over and over. The waffle had been a highlight, but it was a small gesture to soothe her captivity and worry over Mike. Of course, she couldn't - and didn't know how to - tell Papa any of what she was thinking and feeling. So she just scooted back over to him and pretended to be fascinated by the toys because it felt like her only option.

3:30 PM

HAWKINS MIDDLE SCHOOL

Mike fiddled with his locker combination and glanced at the empty one next to his, which had been cleaned out by the custodian earlier, and he pushed down the hard knot in his throat, ignoring the hushed whispers around him. Principal Coleman had just announced over the intercom that they would be holding another special assembly for Will, this time to propose a fundraiser for people to make donations to Will's mother to help with the "cancer" treatments. It was stupid, Mike knew, as he looked around at his peers. A few would donate out of concern, some out of pity, but the most wouldn't because they could care less about the freak "Zombie Boy", which had now morphed into the crude nickname of "Cancer Boy". He wished Principal Coleman hadn't said anything at all; didn't he know by now that the wrong kind of kids could take anything and twist it out of cruelty?

Mike slammed his locker and felt a couple hands playfully slap his back and he turned, seeing Dustin and Lucas. 

"Hey, you ready to go?"

They were trying to force smiles, but it was easy to tell they were glum as him. Yesterday had been a total bust, Dustin was right, but they couldn't give up. Not ever. Mike couldn't with an emotional creature stirring around in his gut, but no one had to know about that. 

"I'm, uh, just gonna go home, okay? I don't feel that good and I promised Mom I'd babysit Holly while she was meeting some friends tonight," Mike lied and his friends exchanged looks, shrugging, but none the wiser. Mike didn't wait for them and left quickly out the double doors to the bike rack, and took off. He waited until he was far from school and out of range from his friends before slowing down, listening to the tick-a-tick-tick-a-tick-a-tick-a-tick-a-tick-a-tick of his bicycle along Mirkwood. The creature inside him, which felt like a writhing snake coming up into his throat, had moved in last night and stayed all day, wrestling with his feelings about everything at the moment. Will was a main concern, of course, but he was more worried for Eleven and his doubts were eating him alive. He wondered why he hadn't had the guts to stay, knock Brenner out somehow, take her and run. Would she even have come with him? Why couldn't it have been easy or at least manageable?

Am I that much of a coward?

Dustin and Lucas had been trying to convince him they would've done the same and that it was weirdest experience, but it hardly helped. 

I should've done something. 

Guilt. Maybe that was the name of the snake slithering around in his belly.

Hawkins Lab loomed in front of him before he knew it and he felt the snake clench and tighten into a coil as he left his bike and trudged to the entrance. The guard standing at attention wasn't the same guy from yesterday at least and he began to open the door. 

"Back again? Where are your friends?" the guard asked curiously.

"Just me," Mike mumbled, walking inside and going to the front desk. The receptionist seemed surprised to see him, but she nodded before he had the chance to say anything and picked up the phone beside her. 

"Go on up, I'll let Dr. Owens know you're here." 

He thanked her and went up to Will's room, greeting Joyce, who was shuffling through a huge stack of papers. 

"What's all this?" he asked, throwing his backpack down on a chair. 

"Will's drawings. Owens had his men bring it all over from the house so I could take a look and see if he's ever drawn anything similar to this spider monster thing."

Mike sat down at his best friend's bedside and stared at him for a while before he began speaking in a quiet voice, not caring too much if Joyce overheard him.

"I know it's stupid to talk to someone in a coma, but here I am. Will, if you can hear me in any way, I just want you to know we're going to help you and we'll never give up on you. You're the best friend I could ask for and I wish you could know how much you mean to me. It's funny... if you had never gone missing, I don't know if I'd ever have met El in the woods. I'm scared for her... I-I don't know, maybe I'm scared myself... You probably would know what to do. I guess I feel a little lost without you and I don't know what's going t-to hap-happen..." Mike choked up and breathed deeply to calm himself.

"I think it's crazy how fast life can change... how much people can change, but I know you wouldn't see anyone as less because they're in a shitty situation and they can't help it. I wish I was as brave as you. You're not just Will the Wise... I think you'd make a good knight too."

When he finished, the silence was broken by a stifled cry behind him and he spun around to see a teary eyed Joyce, her hand to her mouth as she looked at him with such sadness and caring. He swallowed the ginormous lump in his throat, feeding the snake inadvertently, and stood up, pointing at the drawings in front of Ms. Byers. 

"Is there a blank paper in there somewhere that I can write on?" 

She handed over a yellowed page of paper with a lopsided cartoonish green dragon breathing bright orange fire in crayon on one side. Joyce smiled nostalgically as Mike accepted it, turning it over to the blank side. 

"That was one of his earliest drawings, I think he was only three or four at the time, and he was so proud of it, he'd placed it right in the center of the fridge and ramble on about dragons for days... later he thought it was terrible and begged me to throw it out. I couldn't, so I kept it in my nightstand all these years." Joyce laughed, but it was the most strangled, sorrowful laugh Mike had ever heard. 

"Thanks," he told her and sat down, grabbing a pen from his backpack. 

Dear El,

Hi, it's me - Mike. I don't know if this will work, but I hope you will get to read or hear this and I hope you will understand. I really miss you and I'm sorry about when I saw you yesterday and I ran away. It was stupid and I'm a coward, but the truth is I was scared to see you like that with... him. 

Mike paused, deliberating what to put next without going into a hate filled rant about the man who she called "Papa".

I didn't expect it I guess, to see you without any clothes and the diaper kinda freaked me out. I'm sorry. I still think you're the best girl ever and I want to help you if you want me to. Do you really want to be free? The truth: remember, friends don't lie. Please check yes or no. 

He drew a two small boxes, labeled one "yes" and the other "no" and added a smiley face next to "yes" and a frowny face next to "no". He then signed his name and added a PS.

Will is in a coma. That means he's deep asleep and could die if he doesn't wake up, but you can help. We need your help. Please try to come find us on floor #4. Hurt 'Papa' if you have to.

He folded it up neatly and asked Joyce where Dr. Owens' office was located. She directed him and he walked out, hearing his own footfalls as he made his way up a floor and counting the doors to the doctor's office. He paused in front of the ordinary looking door and for some reason, it felt like he was standing alone at the Principal's office and it unsettled him, but he tried to keep his cool as he knocked and then swung the door open and Owens stood up from his desk, clearly not shocked to see him, but somewhat confused. 

"Hey, Michael, what brings you here? Is everything alright?"

Mike jutted out his right hand with the paper and took a breath as Owens walked around the desk and towards him.  

"Just - just give this to Eleven, please?"

Owens took it gingerly, but had the decency to not open it up right then and there to read the contents. He frowned though and Mike crossed his fingers behind his back.

"Oh. Look... kid, I can't. You see, Dr. Brenner and I aren't, uh, on the best terms right now and you know the visitation policy is just for your friend Will, not her, and it's going to complicate things if I let this pass through. You're lucky I covered for you yesterday." 

"It's a simple note telling her how much I miss her. That's not going to kill anyone, is it?" Mike asked slightly antagonistically and Owens hesitated, deliberating, but finally he agreed. 

"Alright. I'll see what I can do." 

4:30 PM

HNL

Owens stopped at the door to Eleven's room and rapped his knuckles a few times below the 011 placard. Begrudgingly, Brenner opened the door and upon seeing who it was, swiftly shut the door behind him in a second before Eleven could look up from her toys on the floor.

"Why are you here?" he demanded of Owens, crossing his arms.

"I have a message," he replied simply, offering forth the folded square of paper and Brenner snatched it out of his hand.

"What is this?" He carefully unfolded it and his gaze scanned the writing, skimming over the words with a scowl. Wordlessly, he turned and opened the door, stepping inside, and shutting it hard behind him and securely locking it, a necessity after yesterday's incident.

"Papa?" Eleven peeped up from the floor, setting a rattle down. He ignored her, rereading the letter and then he put on an invisible mask, smiling gently down at her. 

"It looks like the boy sent you a message." 

Her face brightened like the sun coming out of a thick bank of clouds. 

"Will?"

"No, the boy from yesterday." He glanced down at the name and if she had been brightened before, she was now a beaming supernova.

"I'll read it to you," he offered in false kindness, but she knew nothing of it, and she pitched forward, eagerness waxing. He licked his lips slightly and adjusted his grip on the paper before beginning.

"Dear El - " Brenner paused at that absurd, basic excuse for a nickname, but Eleven smiled at it, and he tried not to let his distaste show through as he read further, tweaking some of the words. 

"Hi, it's me - Mike. I don't know if this will work, but I hope you will get to read or hear this and I hope you will understand. I missed you and I feel sorry about when I saw you yesterday and I ran away, but the truth is that I was scared to see you like that with... him. I was scared of you.

Eleven's face fell as fast as a falling star. 

"I didn't expect it I guess, to see you without any clothes and the diaper kinda freaked me out. I wanted to help you at first, but now I am not sure if that is a good idea. My friends think you are a freak as well and we don't recognize you anymore. If you wanted me to help you, or if I had wanted to help you, it would've happened by now, so I guess I don't want to. I'm sorry it didn't work out and I hope you can understand. Signed, Mike." 

Brenner glanced up, conveniently leaving out the postscript note about Will and telling her to hurt Papa - the audacity of that delinquent young man - and he saw the wheels churning in Eleven's mind and then her face broke into upset and despair.

"I'm sorry, Eleven." He flashed up the paper to show her, but not long enough for her to try and read it; he knew she couldn't and this was a great benefit. 

"I suppose it's no use having this around then," Brenner said, ripping up the letter and tossing it in the trash. He paused, reaching down and picking up a couple torn pieces that had the drawing of the dragon on the back.  

"It looks like he drew a dragon as well. Do you know what a dragon is, Eleven?"

She remembered one from a storybook Papa had shown to her once, but why would Mike draw a dragon?

"Dragons are known as dangerous creatures in mythical stories. They are to be feared and are often killed to protect a village. I think Mike is sending you a message that he sees you as a dragon; a threat, a fear of his," Brenner explained and Eleven stared in sadness as he dropped the pieces back into the trash and went to sit down next to her casually, as though it had only been a mere interruption. She was struggling to contain her emotions, he could tell, and he picked up Mr. Teddy Bear off the floor.

"I don't think you're scary at all, Eleven. I'll still be your friend," Brenner spoke for the plush in a somewhat goofy voice and bopped her lightly on the nose with it. He did the same with Mr. Lion and grinned, hoping she'd forget her troubles. He considered sedating her if she threw a tantrum, but he could see that wasn't necessary as her expression shifted and grew into hopelessness, but he didn't want her to be depressed. He wanted her to shut this out and he thought of what he could do to distract her beyond toys and food. What else was there besides that? He didn't know much about a broken heart, but he highly suspected that was what she had. Maybe his presence would be enough to replace her sorrow over a stupid boy.

"Eleven, come here." He pulled her into his lap and attempted to jiggle her slightly, as one would bounce a baby, and he verbally reminded her of all the nice toys, food, crib, and of course her stuffed animal friends, that she was lucky to have.

"Remember the way it was before? That was not that much fun, but you weren't a very good girl, were you? But now you are a very good little one and Papa is very proud you," he praised and she glowed slightly.

"You can have waffles for every breakfast and we'll play games all day."

He was really pushing himself with this, but it would be worth it if she obeyed and forgot about the boy.

"Papa?" Eleven whispered quietly. 

"Hm?" 

"Stay."

He smiled and she let herself be bounced up and down, his hands holding on to her tightly. 

5:00 PM

Brenner left, needing to stretch his legs after spending so much time confined to a single room and he wandered up and down the halls, eventually going to the staff break room and filling up a cup of tea. As if on cue, Sam Owens walked in and went straight to his side. Brenner tried to hide his tension and focused on steeping the tea and he expected his colleague to grab coffee or whatever he was in here for, but he didn't.

"Did you give it to her?" Owens asked quietly, leaning against the counter and Brenner felt a muscle twitch. This man was a constant itch under his skin and like a bad penny always turning up when you didn't need him. 

"Yes," he replied shortly. 

"Well? What did she think?" 

"She's heartbroken. That boy only wrote her to tell her he does not want to help her anymore because he's frightened of the way she is. It's a shame," Brenner fabricated and Owens stared at him, regretting not reading the note beforehand because surely Mike wouldn't write that, would he?  

"That's not what I expected. Are you sure about that?" Owens questioned and Brenner calmly nodded, turning to leave. 

"I hope you still aren't feeling jealous," he commented snidely and Owens scoffed, tailing him out into the hall.

"Excuse me?"

"You know what I'm taking about."

"No, you're the one I believe is jealous here and I'm not about to argue over that again. I'm trying to juggle multiple people under this roof and you're not helping one bit, making me the fall guy for everything! Could it hurt to work with me and these kids who are just concerned?"

Brenner froze and Owens almost bumped into him. 

"Whose side are you on, us or them?"

"Oh, so now it has become us versus them? You know, I thought we were here to help, not start another war."

"You know better than that." 

Owens glanced away, waving a hand as if that would push the truth farther from him, and he diverted it back to Martin.

"You can't keep doing this." 

"Do your own job," Brenner snapped, striding away to avoid a real answer. Frustrated, Owens hurried down to the lobby and saw Mike leaving.

"Mike, wait!" he called out and the boy turned around. He came up cautiously and Owens dropped his voice to an urgent mutter. 

"Listen, what did you write to her in that letter?"

"What? Why? Did she see it? What did she think?"

"Not exactly what you hoped, I'm guessing. Dr. Brenner told me she's heartbroken because apparently you wrote that you are frightened of her and no longer want to help." 

"That's not true! That's not what I wrote, he's lying to her!" 

"I know, but - " 

"Let me see her!" Mike's voice gained in volume and Owens put his hands out, gently trying to push him back. 

"That's not a good idea right now, I can't - " 

"LET ME SEE HER!" 

Owens pulled back and found himself considering again.

"Alright, wait here. If you move one bit, there will be consequences and you'll regret it," Owens threatened and went out of the lobby to find Brenner, who was just about to enter Eleven's room downstairs. Owens bustled up to him and he turned with a sour expression. 

"Now what is it?" 

"We have a problem and you can't hide away from it. Michael Wheeler won't leave until he sees her." 

Brenner processed this and Owens braced for more arguing, but the man just made a 'well, that's that' kind of expression. He unlocked the door and swung it open, pointing. 

"Get the girl," Brenner ordered and Owens paused as his colleague began to walk away.  

"Where are you going?" 

"Just take her to him."

Owens went inside and bent down to Eleven seated on the floor, her face furrowing in confusion and concern.

"Kiddo, come with me for a sec, okay?" He tugged her up and she clutched his arm, holding onto Mr. Teddy Bear with her other hand, and he led her away out the hall and up to the lobby. She blinked and saw a familiar face with dark floppy hair standing several feet away and her eyes widened. 

"Mike!"

She let go of Owens' arm and slowly walked towards him, limply clutching the teddy bear. He smiled at her, stepping forward. Suddenly the lights went out and they were plunged into semi-darkness, with just the muted overcast light from the windows in the building. Mike heard the tap of a shoe and he spun around, startled to find Brenner standing several feet behind him, a taser clasped in his hand.

"Oh my God! What are you doing?!" Mike yelped just before the lightening force pain struck him and he hit the ground, hollering.

"What does it feel like?" Brenner asked coldly as he walked closer to stand next to him, watching as emotionless as he could. Eleven screamed and tried to run to the boy, but Owens was keeping a firm hold on her. She protested, struggling and gasping.

"NO! MIKE! MIKE! MIKE!"

"E-EL! EL!" He choked out and as quick as it had come, the pain suddenly ceased and Brenner bent down, pinching Mike's earlobe and whispering.

"If you attempt to see my daughter again, you will be finding yourself and your family on the wrong end of any number or type of accident; perhaps carbon monoxide in your home or a tragic car accident... and that will only lead to being printed in the obituaries section of the Hawkins newspaper."

Mike breathed heavily and Brenner let go of his ear, easing back up.

"I hope we've come to an understanding, Michael."

Mike heaved himself up, scrambling, and after casting El a very pained look and mouthing 'I'm sorry', he bolted out the door, tripping over himself, and Eleven bawled as Owens held her back. Brenner held out his hand and Owens relinquished her and she threw herself away from both of them. She could hear the two men's voices as she ran down the hallway with the teddy bear swinging at her side.

"NOW LOOK AT WHAT YOU'VE DONE!" Owens shouted at Brenner and he shook his head sadly.

"She should know by now."

Eleven forced herself faster away from his voice and straight up the stairs to another hall, throwing anyone she saw right into a wall. She saw a door open twenty feet away and prepared herself to use her power to hurt whomever was just about to come out, but then another familiar face and shoulder length messy brown hair had her skidding to a stop and almost dropping the bear. 

Will's mother stood in shock, staring at her, and Eleven echoed the same until Joyce went to her and wrapped her into a tight hug and Eleven burst into tears.

"Sweetie, sweetie, what's going on? Are you okay?" Joyce asked, smoothing a hand over her shaven hair, hating how it felt just like Will's. Eleven sobbed out a incomprehensible response and Joyce didn't try to pressure her, just holding her and whispering it was okay was enough for now.

They heard footsteps and Joyce looked up, seeing Dr. Brenner (visibly furious) and Owens (visibly frustrated) at the end of hallway. Her eyes narrowed and she held the girl tighter, El's face buried in her chest.

"Ms. Byers, we'll take her from here," Owens called out in a friendly, yet warning, tone and Brenner stepped forward. 

"Hand her over," he demanded as if this girl was a stolen object. 

"Go to hell! Stay away from her!" Joyce barked ferociously and Owens sighed, also coming forward. 

"Don't make this difficult. She's been through enough already today." 

"And YOU of all people think you can make it better?! The one who is keeping my son under a coma and working with this - this monster?!" Joyce angrily asked of him and Owens glanced to Brenner. 

"Maybe you should leave. You're making this worse." 

"Don't speak to me and stay where you are," Brenner sharply ordered and walked towards them, holding out a hand. Joyce recoiled, turning Eleven away from her and shielding her. Brenner stopped just a few feet away and dropped his hand. 

"She doesn't belong to you," he told the boy's mother softly and Joyce's face twisted in anger.

"She doesn't need someone like you hurting her and imprisoning her without a choice. Haven't you done enough damage?"

"Eleven, look at me." Brenner chose to speak to her directly instead, ignoring the nuisance of a mother. Her head unlodged itself from the woman and her watery eyes met his. He tilted his head, smiling gently, and reaching over to take Mr. Teddy Bear. She whimpered, but let go, and he tucked the stuffed animal under the crook of his arm.

"We'll be waiting for you, in your room, when you are ready to come back," he offered and she frowned in confusion. He was giving her a choice?

Owens walked up behind and around Brenner to stand with Joyce, as Brenner's anger dissipated into an eerie, more unsettling calm and he took a few steps back, focused solely on Eleven.

"I'll be where you need me. Mr. Teddy Bear will be ready to welcome you back when you come. It's alright."

He started to walk away and Eleven felt herself loosening her grip on Will's mother, but then caught herself. Papa would be fine without her... no, she would be fine without him. But for how long? Already she missed the bear, but she knew this was a trap. Owens muttered something and then she felt herself being steered by Joyce into a room and she blinked, surveying the scene. She gasped upon seeing Will on the hospital bed, appearing very asleep and hooked up to machines. Joyce hugged her tighter and then let go, sitting down on her cot and Eleven stood, eyes locked on Will. She slowly moved forward, reaching to touch his hand.

"Will?" she said, startled to see how gaunt and pale he was. She touched his arm and watched for any sign of him coming to wake. 

"He's in a coma, kiddo. Do you know what that means?" Owens spoke from behind her and she stayed silent, struggling to contain her anxiety.

"He won't wake up until we get him too. He almost died and this was the only way to stop what he was going through that was making him very sick. We do plan to wake him in less than two weeks from today and see if he's any less sick." 

Eleven moved away from Will and sat next to Joyce on the cot, head resting on her shoulder and Owens stood awkwardly.

"I - Well, you know if you need anything.. " 

"Leave us," Joyce commanded quietly and he nodded, quickly stepping out and shutting the door. Joyce exhaled her stress and rubbed the girl's back.

"Can you tell me what happened? You're not hurt, are you?" she asked, noticing the bloody nose and snatching up a couple tissues from the box on the table, bringing them to Eleven's nostril and wiping it away. 

"I'm okay. Papa..." Eleven trailed off. 

"I won't let him take you. You're staying right here in this room with me, okay?"

She nodded, tired all of a sudden, and laid down on the cot, head resting on the pillow wearily. After a moment, Joyce laid down as well beside her and cradled her from behind, rubbing her shoulder. Eleven relaxed, feeling relief and realizing she had never felt like this with anyone before. She felt completely... safe, even though she was still here in the Lab and Papa would surely fetch her again soon, but this peaceful moment was all that mattered. 

6:00 PM

Brenner didn't wait long unfortunately. While Eleven was asleep with the mother, he had his men sedate her and constrain the Byers woman as he carried his daughter out and back to her true place in her nursery, leaving Owens to once again, settle down the fireworks.

"HOW DARE YOU LET HIM DO THIS! BRING HER BACK! AND YOU GET OFF OF ME!" Joyce screamed, wrestling with a burly security guard as Owens stood in front of her, sympathetic.

"I wish I could, but she needs to remain with him, unless you want your son to be harmed. That's the deal I was backed into making. No Eleven, no Will in danger of medical harm done by us."

"You sick, unethical, spineless bastard!" Joyce seethed and he scowled, shaking his head. 

"It's not me who made up the rules and I'm just trying to keep the peace."

"Bullshit," Joyce spat, breaking free of the arms constraining her and jabbing Owens in the chest.

"Do me a favor. When Will is well again and this is maybe all over, take your credentials and get the hell out of Hawkins. This town doesn't deserve another asshole. One is enough." 

"I know it's hard, but - "

"YOU DON'T KNOW ANYTHING! You don't know what it's like to be forced to quit your minimum wage job at a convenience store and come to a laboratory that has been experimenting on your youngest son - and you don't know where the hell your other son is - while this same lab is keeping another woman's daughter imprisoned and brainwashed to accept a sadistic scientist as her father, who only wants to control every fiber of her being! You don't know half of the HELL I've been through, the hell that WILL has been through, the hell that ALL of us have been through this past year and even before that. Yeah, it's HARD, it's not easy, but go ahead - take your tests, crunch numbers, run diagnostics because that makes us all feel better, that's going to SAVE US! Sure!" Joyce exclaimed, fairly explosively.

Owens was silent for a while, visually dismissing the guards and closing the door behind him, pulling up a chair despite the blindingly obvious fact that Joyce just wanted him to leave and probably never return. But he wouldn't be like Martin and pass off emotions when they didn't benefit you (besides, the guilt would be too much to keep occupied inside him).

"I have a son, too," he started gently. 

"I know, you've told me," Joyce said, exasperated and done with him.

"No, listen. You're right, I can't even imagine the pain and stress you're under and have been under for months. I don't know what that's like and I wouldn't wish it on you or anyone. My job, unlike some, isn't to make people's lives miserable. Take away all this external, uh, scenery, this Lab, these clothes, my 'credentials' as you put it, and this whole situation entirely and you'd see underneath all that, I'm just a normal guy, a husband, a father. If that was my son Peter over there..." Owens paused, taking an uneasy breath, and pointing over to the comatose Will.

"If that was Peter, I'd be ready to throw in the towel, I'd be so upset. And I know I'd be angry too, so angry I'd probably punch a hole in the wall from the lack of cohesion, the absence of rock solid answers, the - "   

"But that's Will. That's not your son, that's mine. That's why you can let all this happen to him because he isn't yours. And what about Eleven?" 

"Exactly the point I'm trying to get at. We will never truly be able to know another person's issues without a little empathy, understanding, and that's a two way street. Understanding for you, understanding for me. It's all I ask." 

"And understanding for Dr. Bastard Brenner?" 

Owens smiled weakly. 

"Not that far of an understanding. I'm afraid that may be almost impossible." 

Joyce's mouth thinly stretched into a smile and she glanced down at the floor.

"I promise Eleven will get out someday and to you and Chief Hopper if he so desires. I promise that, but until then, you have to work with us here. I'm trying to help Will." 

Joyce looked up with a hardness he knew was impenetrable, but he could at least soften.

"You're a good mother, a fantastic one in fact, and I won't ever be the one to take that away from you. You don't deserve any of this, but sometimes evil picks the right people for the wrong reasons. I hope to hell Will recovers and you guys can get out of here and try to get back to a normal life, but right now we don't have that option yet. So please, just... stick with me on this. Please." 

He spoke so nicely and sincerely Joyce was tempted to wholeheartedly agree. But she knew better to believe men from the government, especially ones who she had entrusted her own son with and who worked with someone who was obviously not good man at all. 

"I'll think about it," she finally said and he smiled.

"That's a good start." Owens stood up and walked to the door as Joyce glanced over at Will because a slight movement caught her eye and she moved over once the doctor was gone, studying him closely. His skin was too pale, but she found herself staring at his prominent veins that... weren't veins? They were inky black and underneath his skin, almost pulsating to some unknown beat that hadn't been there earlier. She traced her fingers along his arm and held her breath as the blackness moved with her touch slightly, pressing up against his skin and his fingers began to twitch. She backed away, considering calling for someone, but what was the use of that? More lies, more confusion? She couldn't trust anyone here and she never felt more alone, yet some part of her felt like she wasn't alone; that the monsters were not only inside these walls, one could be here in this very room, watching. Will's fingers grew still again, but the minuscule tendrils, or whatever it was under his skin, hadn't been erased and her eyes were drawn to the mysterious shadowy drawing once more and she stared all around.  

"What have you done to my son?" Joyce whispered aloud to the empty space, but only her own fears answered. 

Chapter Text

October 19, 1984 5:30 PM 

HNL

Joyce, frustrated, threw down the last drawing of Will's and put her head in her hands... Everything felt like a dead end and she was completely fried out. Whatever had been under her son's skin had receded by the time she had alerted Dr. Owens to it (against her better judgement), but she felt too unnerved to sleep that night, and she cringed remembering that conversation with him.

"It was right there!"

"Where?"

"There all over his arm, underneath his skin like, like tendrils!"

"Those are his veins."

"No, they were black! And they followed me, it was like it had a consciousness or something, I don't know!" 

"Well, I don't see anything like that now and his vitals are stable. I see a small spike here, but nothing alarming. How about you get some rest and we'll see in the morning?"

Typical attitude. He had looked at her with concern for her sanity, but she was more concerned about Will and was aggravated that no one here would really listen to her, but she was pretty certain that if Dr. Owens had seen it, they would be investigating into it and running all kinds of tests. 

What a joke.

Speaking of Dr. Owens... Joyce left the room and went straight to his office, bursting in without knocking. He glanced up and she threw herself down on a chair, reaching for the phone on his desk.

"What's going on?" he asked as she punched in numbers.

"I need to make a few calls," she replied shortly and he rolled his chair back to give her space, a bit perplexed. 

"How long is this going to take... " 

She held up a hand, listening to the rings on the other end. 

"Hi, Karen. It's Joyce... yes I know, I'm fine. Oh, Mike told you? Good, okay, yeah, I want to be Will with during this time, I just thought it would be easier. Okay, no that's fine..." 

Owens waited as she kept talking, checking the time on his watch consistently. When the conversation was over, she dialed another number and listened for a few seconds before greeting the person on the other end.

"Yeah, it's me. Can you come over to talk? I could really use some company."

Relief spread over her face as she hung up, hesitated, and put in yet another number, to Owens' chagrin.

"Hi, Bob, it's Joyce. I'm okay, I'm okay. Listen, can you come over? You know the large government complex on the edge of town? Yes, that's the one. I'm here with Will and I want you to come, I'll explain everything."

Owens waved a hand and attempted to grab the phone, but she shot him a look, holding it away, winding the cord around her fingers.

"See you soon, then. Love you." She hung up for the last time and Owens made a disgruntled noise. 

"He doesn't have authorization to be here for visiting! Couldn't you have at least checked with me first before calling and inviting him over?" he chastised and her face hardened. 

"He's my boyfriend," she snapped back and stood up. 

"Alright, I get that, but this isn't a regular hospital. The more people involved, the more risk there is and it isn't - " 

"Sam?" 

He looked a bit taken aback to be addressed by his first name from her and raised his eyebrows. 

"Yes...?" 

"Deal with it." Joyce strode out, satisfied with her calls. 

5:50 PM

Hopper came first and he sauntered in through the doorway, casual, but she could tell his guard was up. Rightfully so in this shithole.

"What's up, Joyce?" His eyes darted over to Will and back to her as she explained there was something she needed to talk to him about and in truth, she did really want his company; she just felt safer with him around. Before she could get into it though, Bob Newby appeared in the doorway, holding a bouquet of flowers in his hands and Hopper took a double take. 

"What's he doing here?" he asked, trying not to be confrontational and Joyce acted as though it was obvious. 

"I called him. He's been in the dark long enough, Hop." 

Hopper grumbled under his breath, stepping aside as Bob walked in, looking stricken at the sight of Will, but immensely relieved to see Joyce. She jumped up and embraced him with a quick kiss and accepted the flowers, gushing over the colors. Bob, however, could barely smile.

"Joyce, what the heck happened? Jim won't tell me anything and you haven't been at home or work, and I don't even know where Jonathan is. What is going on? How long have you been at this place?"

She faded in her brief happiness and stepped back, setting down the flowers and beginning to explain in a way that was more watered down and leaving out any supernatural aspects, at least for the moment. Bob listened intently and sat down on a chair next to Will, his forehead creased with worry.

"I never knew..." he mumbled as he stared at Will and Joyce asked him what he meant.

"I didn't know Will had these episodes or was struggling a lot. He... he never talked to me about it." 

Joyce paused and Hopper glanced between them. 

"He never said anything?"

"No, but I wish I'd known. I'm no doctor, I know, but I could've tried to help or at least talk to him. I wish he'd open up to me more and made a connection. Maybe I wasn't trying hard enough." 

Joyce leaned over and held his hand with a gentle squeeze of appreciation while Hopper shifted in his chair.

"He takes time to warm up to people. I'm sure once he knows you better, he'll be more open," she assured him and he chuckled lightly. 

"And I thought Jonathan was the tough cookie."

This reminded Hopper and he turned to Joyce to let her know Jonathan had called him from Illinois to let him know he was still with Nancy and they were hiding out for a while, but would be back in a couple days.

"Illinois? What the hell are they doing in Illinois?!" Joyce exclaimed, panic lifting, but Hopper reassured her (and Bob) that everything was alright.

"They went to see a, uh, let's call him an acquaintance of mine and don't worry, he's not too far from Indiana state lines," Hopper told her and Joyce muttered anxieties dipped in annoyance while Bob then nodded at Will. 

"So the doctors say he'll wake up soon?"

"Yes, it's what we're all counting on. I just wish I could figure out this drawing," Joyce replied distractedly and reached over to retrieve it under the folder of Will's artworks.  

"What drawing?" 

Hopper cleared his throat pointedly and jerked his head towards the door at Joyce. Her face scrunched, but she followed him outside.

"What the hell are you doing? Bob is an outsider," he muttered, hand resting on the wall behind her, somewhat trapping her body in between his imposing one and the wall, but she was hardly intimidated. 

"An outsider? Jesus, Hop, this is my boyfriend we're talking about and it's not my fault you're hung up over him. He has a right to know; I've strung him along long enough and Will is in danger."

Hopper glanced away with a light snort. 

"I'm not hung up over him, Joyce. We're putting him in danger the more he knows and I'm just trying to protect you from getting hurt as well if anything happened to him."

He had a valid point and she couldn't bear the thought of putting Bob in any crossfire, but he could be useful.

"What-what if he can help us?" she haltingly asked and Hopper removed his hand from the wall, staring intently at her. 

"How can he help?"

"We need fresh eyes on this whole drawing and maybe Bob could have a different perspective." 

"In other words, we need his brain." 

"Yeah, okay, his brain."

"No harm in trying I guess," Hopper admitted and once they were back inside, he gave Joyce the slightest nod and she slid the shadow monster drawing out and handed it over to show Bob. 

"Can you make that out?" Joyce asked as he studied it curiously. 

"Oh, it looks like some kind of spider," he commented immediately. 

"Yeah, that's what we all thought." 

"And Will drew this?" 

"Right before the episode that led to his induced coma." 

"Hmm..." Bob tilted the drawing around from all angles, pointing at the swirly black ink mass all around the monster. 

"What's all this?"

"I don't know, maybe some kind of energy?" Joyce shrugged. 

"Black webs? Maybe a nest?" Bob wondered and Hopper scoffed. 

"You're really running on this spider thing, huh?"

Bob glanced up with concern.

"Does Will have a fear of spiders?" 

"Not really, he's not fond of them, but he's not terrified anytime he sees one. It's not a phobia or anything," Joyce answered and Bob quickly nodded. 

"Right. Then it can't be that. It's clearly not a spider, it doesn't look like any known species of one, but it does have a rudimentary form. There are seven arms, no, legs - I think they're legs. And doesn't this look like the head?" 

Hopper and Joyce shortly agreed, but Bob was more interested in not what this exactly was, but what it could mean. 

"You guys don't think this is real, do you?" 

"Well, what we think - " Joyce began, but Hopper interrupted to get straight to the heart of it.

"Yeah. Say it is real and could affect living things, what do you think it would do?" 

Bob seemed a little taken aback and tried to answer this practically.

"I'm not sure, depends on its habitat. Its closest relative could be a spider I suppose. We have to then assume it has limited intelligence and basic biological functions, but without anything but this drawing, we're completely in the dark. Hey, for all we know, and if we're really out there, it could be some kind of alien." He grinned slightly, thinking this was unreal. 

"An alien?" Hopper sounded very doubtful and almost amused, but Bob paused, growing more serious. 

"Yeah, you know that movie Alien that came out a few years ago? Scared the living daylights out of me, I don't know what I was thinking to watch it. Did you see it?" 

"You of all people saw that film?" Joyce was flabbergasted; Bob was the most PG guy she'd ever known. 

"I was seeing it everywhere and if you're a nerd like me, it's hard to ignore!" Bob exclaimed in his defense and Hopper leaned forward, all business. 

"What's your point?" he asked and Joyce scowled at his slightly mean tone.

"Well, you see in the movie there were these Xenomorph aliens that you could say are almost spider-like and rather skeletal, and this one attached itself to this crew member's face and he falls into a coma. Later it ends up bursting out of the guy's chest because he was the host to it. This drawing doesn't exactly look like one of those, though, but it made me think of that movie for some reason."

"Hold on..." Joyce said slowly, all the thoughts and words firing inside her mind at once.   

Coma. Host. Virus. Disease.

"Oh my God." She glanced at Hopper.

"What? What is it?" Bob asked, but then they all heard prominent footsteps right outside.  

"How's the party in here?" Dr. Owens asked loudly, swinging open the door. Bob immediately stood up, holding out a hand and Owens shook it gregariously. 

"I'm Will's physician, Dr. Sam Owens, good to meet you." 

"Bob Newby, I'm Joyce's boyfriend. It's nice to meet you, too."

"I see you've joined the club?" Owens asked, his eyes landing on the drawing by Will's bedside. 

"The club?" Bob asked, confused. 

"You haven't told him yet? You might as well if you've chosen to rope him into our little experience here," Owens said knowingly to the other two and Hopper grunted.  

"No, we were maybe getting around to it..." Joyce trailed off sheepishly. 

"Tell me what?" Bob spoke up, insistent. Joyce stood up, tugging at his arm and gently pushing him out the open door.

"Bob, can we talk alone for a minute?" 

They trailed outside and Bob put his hands on her shoulders as they huddled close away from the door. 

"Joyce, what is going on? I'm sorry, I just don't quite understand. Talk to me." 

"We're not a normal family," she told him gravely and he just smiled sweetly, nodding. 

"I know, you've told me that numerous times, but you need to know that I love you and everything that comes with you and your boys. We'll get through this, I'm here for you through thick and thin, even this thickness that's happening right now. It's not always easy peasy, I get it." 

"There's a lot more to our lives than what you see and what I've told you." 

"So tell me, I can take it."

Joyce took a breath and then let it all come out in a rush.

"Will was taken to another dimension last year, that's why he really went missing and we couldn't find him physically in town. He calls this place the Upside Down because it's parallel to this world, but it's a nightmare version of it with a bloodthirsty monster and this toxic atmosphere; anyway, he barely made it out alive and he hasn't been the same since. He's had nightmares and visions of the place that were effecting him and Dr. Owens took him here to study him and then the episodes got worse and now he's in a coma." 

Bob was giving her the familiar 'this is a lot to take in and I'm frankly very worried about your mental state, but I'm trying to be understanding' look, but she kept going. 

"I think Will has part of the Upside Down inside him, like a piece of that dimension is now a part of his body, like a virus, or an alien or maybe even a possession. I know this sounds insane." 

It took Bob a shorter time to process this than most people would and he was about to give a reaction, but then raised voices came from inside the room and he paused, casting a look at the door along with Joyce, before she yanked it open to see Hopper pinning Owens against the wall and yelling.

"You let him do that?! You son of a bitch!"

"Calm down, Chief! How many times do I have to say it?! I can't do much!"

"Tell him that, tell that little girl that!" Hopper snarled and Joyce cleared her throat, causing Hopper to glance over and his anger fizzled, backing off and Owens straightened his tie back in place, shaking his head. 

"Jesus, I leave you two alone for five minutes and you're at it like cats and dogs," Joyce scolded.

"Okay, now I'm really confused. Can someone please explain in logical terms what's going on?" Bob looked from Joyce, to Hopper, to Owens, and then back to Joyce, who sighed.

"Bob, look, it's six o'clock and the food they serve here is edible at best and I'm starving, so would you mind going out and bringing us back some burgers or something and then we'll talk some more?"

"Oh," he responded, surprised. He wasn't committed to agreeing, but her expression was one he knew well enough to not disagree with, even if he thought this whole situation was a bit off.

"Okay, um, sure I can do that." 

"Now we don't allow that kind of - " Owens began, but both Hopper and Joyce silenced him with a glare and he shrugged.

"Pick me up a double cheeseburger if you want." 

6:30 PM

Eleven rolled over and Papa's hands caught her as she moved on a cot, coming to real awareness for the first time in a couple days. Everything had been a hazy sedative induced blur and she found herself looking at Papa with confusion. She twitched as he smiled, tickling her padded feet a bit.

"Hello, Eleven. Enjoy your extra long nap time?"

She tried to think back to everything before sleeping, but it was too painful and disorienting. Where was Will's mom? Where was Mike? Would she ever see them again? She had to see them again. 

"Papa... why?"

"Why what?" He tickled her feet again in an attempt to distract her, but she refused to let it.

"Why not Mike? Why not Will's mom? Why... Papa?" 

His face darkened and he withdrew his hand, sighing slightly.

"It's hard to explain to you, but you must understand I care for you and I'm the only one who truly can. People pretend they may like or even love you, but nothing can break the bond between father and daughter." 

"Pretend?" 

"Fake, lies. That's what that Mike and Will's mother are to you." 

She scowled. They had never felt fake to her and friends don't lie. 

"Will?" she asked suddenly, wondering if he thought Will was fake too. By the look of his face, she knew that was a different answer. 

"Will is very sick. He's not to be compared to anyone else, least of all you." He would admit that for a brief time he almost wished for the boy to be like Eleven, perhaps even a brother to her, but that was never going to happen now. 

"Are you hungry?" he asked, changing the subject. 

"No." 

"I think you are," he countered. 

"No food!" 

"Yes, milk. Wouldn't you enjoy that?"

He retrieved the bottle from the side table and shook it, offering it out to her and she roughly grabbed it before throwing right back at him. It hit his chest and plunked to the floor. 

"Oh, I see you're going to be fussy tonight," he commented, only mildly irritated, and stooped down to pick up the bottle. When he gave it to her again, she repeated the same action. Stubborn, he tried for a third time, yet she refused. Sedating was out of picture; she'd already had too much in her system. 

"Alright, fine!" Brenner snapped and tossed the bottle aside, shrugging out of his suit jacket and going over to his cot. He sat down with his back to her and she sat up, rubbing her aching head. Her stomach mumbled and she frowned, glancing down to the bottle. She reached for it and brought it up to take a drink, since she did feel rather thirsty and she didn't see anything else around to consume. It tasted good, familiar and refreshing, and it wasn't lukewarm like she was used to. She sucked down the rest and Papa turned around as she put the bottle down beside her on the sheets. Pride was eminent on his face and he came over to her.

"That's the daughter I know and love."

"Love?" She wasn't used to hearing that word. 

"Yes. When you are good, I love you." He grinned, bending down and cupping her chin fondly as she stared back unsmiling. If he loved her, why did he hurt ones she loved? Was that love?

"You look upset. Relax, it's alright. I'll be back after I go take this bottle out for washing." He removed himself from near her and took the bottle with him out the door, leaving her confused and conflicted. 

6:40 PM

Bob came back with bags from a Burgerking out of town and they all sat in the staff room, gathered around a circular table, and began digging in. Hopper popped open a can of beer he'd insisted Bob bring him as well, which earned him a disapproving look from Owens. 

"It's just one beer," he promised and grabbed a fistful of fries while Owens picked at his cheeseburger.

"This is pretty darn good, I gotta say," he remarked, biting in. 

"You ever went to Benny's, Doc?" Hopper asked and Owens shook his head, swallowing. 

"No, but I've heard stories. It's a shame about what happened to him." 

Hopper eyed him carefully, peeling back the wrapper on his own bacon burger. Joyce dunked a fry in ranch and swirled it around, tapping it on the edge of the white plastic cup as she would do to a cigarette loaded with ash. 

"I never thought I'd be doing this today," Bob commented next to her, chuckling slightly as he went onto his second cheeseburger.

"Neither did I, Bob," Owens agreed, smiling. Bob swallowed and then spoke in a conspiratorial tone. 

"So Joyce told me when Will was missing, he was actually in another dimension and that you are studying him because he possibly has carried back a virus or alien inside him from that place?" 

"That's right, more or less, although aliens sound very far fetched." 

"Seriously? You're not in on some elaborate sick kind of joke or prank and just pulling my leg?" 

"It's true," Owens told him with all sincerity.

"Really?" 

"Really." 

"Wow, and I thought this kind of stuff only existed in movies and comic books, certainly not in Hawkins." Bob shook his head in disbelief and Hopper and Joyce laughed. 

"What is this?"

The new voice made all four of them pause, setting down drinks and chewed burgers, Hopper wiping his mouth with a napkin as Dr. Brenner stood in the doorway, an empty bottle of Eleven's in his hand. Owens hastily pushed aside wrappings and empty ketchup packets, accidentally knocking over a bunch of fries in the process and Hopper caught them just in time from raining to the floor. He popped one into his mouth and grinned.

"Oh, uh, what brings you here, Martin? I thought you were down for the night?" Owens nervously asked, starting to get up shamefully.

"I want to see you outside, Sam. As for the rest of you, what do you think you are doing?"

"Oh for pete's sake!" Joyce bolted up from her seat and walked around the table, pointing a finger at Brenner.  

"Joyce..." Hopper warned and she ignored him. 

"My son is in a coma and I don't know if he's going to ever be the same once he comes out of it - that's if he makes it out alive with no brain damage. We could be facing another dangerous entity that's out to destroy my son and likely us too, so forgive me for sitting around in your multi-million dollar facility scarfing junk food because I sure am the worst person here!" Joyce ranted and Brenner upped his nose at her, scowling. 

"Um, who's this?" Bob asked, eyes wide. 

"This is Dr. Martin Brenner, also known to every major English dictionary under asshole," Joyce replied with bite and Bob raised his eyebrows.  

"Martin, please leave, alright?" Owens pleaded, but Brenner stood still.

"Clean this up once you're all done and Sam, you I'll be seeing out in the hall."

He walked over to the counter and put the bottle in the sink, turning on the faucet and rinsing it out thoroughly. He went to the small fridge, opening it and pulling out a carton of milk to pour it into the clean bottle. Bob leaned over and whispered an inquiry about what he was doing. 

"That's for his daughter," Owens told him flatly and Bob seemed surprised, perhaps due to the older man's age. 

"Oh, how old is she?" 

"Yes, how old is she, Martin?" Owens asked testily.

"Nineteen months," he replied as normally as possible and Owens almost laughed. Bob, however, was none the wiser.

"Still on the bottle, huh? I remember my mom complaining about weaning my sister and then when I came along, well let's just say she had her hands full. Kids, right?"

Joyce elbowed Bob in the ribs as Brenner left without another word. They finished eating, but for Joyce, the food had quickly lost its taste. Owens left the table first, apologizing, and then he found Brenner waiting in the hall, clearly ticked off.

"That was very unprofessional behavior and how dare you let another person in this building without my permission!" 

"It wasn't my idea! Joyce can be very, uh, persuasive and I want her to trust us, trust me! You gave me the control with this, so I'll do it however it works."

"By bringing in junk food and eating in the staff room during hours?" 

Owens held up his arm so Martin was face to face with his wristwatch. 

"See the time? I'm technically off hours. Unlike you, I actually have a work schedule and I intend to stick to it."

"I have a schedule too," Brenner snapped and Owens wanted to roll his eyes at that. 

"You mean the daddy-daughter schedule?" 

Brenner gave him a piercing glare and held up the bottle. 

"At least I am acting responsible."

Owens had no positive reaction to that. Martin was insane, that's all there was to it and there was no point in chasing circles in counterarguments.  

"Okay. Look, I'm going to get these folks situated and we'll clean everything up." 

"I hope so. Don't do this again; these people are not your friends." 

"I was unaware that my human relations had to be approved by you, Pop."

"Cut that out," Brenner snapped again, annoyed. 

"Cut what out?"

"That attitude and your lame attempts at humor, it's very aggravating to me."

"You've never made a joke your entire life, that's why." Owens grinned. 

"You don't know me, so - " 

"Oh, I think I have a pretty good assessment of you since we've been working together." 

"Then you should know I'd like nothing more than for you to back off." 

"This is my facility as much as yours and - "

"HEY!" Chief Hopper's sudden bark startled them both and Brenner put his hands on his hips, staring ahead at the Chief who was standing outside the doorway. Owens rubbed his forehead and sighed heavily. 

"You two gonna stand here all night and argue like an old married couple or are you gonna go about your business?" 

Owens glanced at Brenner and they both parted ways, with Brenner briskly walking fast down the other end of the hall and Owens walking back into the break room. 

"Sorry about that," he apologized and then looked pointedly at Bob. 

"I'm afraid you'll have to leave for the night, but you're welcome to come back tomorrow during the day, however." 

Bob seemed to understand, stranding up and giving Joyce a brief hug before following Owens out.

"It's fine, doctor. I had a good meal out of this. Joyce, call me if anything happens, okay?" 

She nodded and held up a hand in parting, then half dropping it awkwardly, only to bring it back up to run through her hair. Hopper was cleaning off the table, tossing the leftover bags, wrappers, and containers in the trash. With just the two of them left in the room, the tension felt thicker and Joyce tried to speak, but Hopper beat her to it as he threw a stray french fry that had dropped unnoticed to the floor into the trashcan. 

"Joyce, I'm not mad you brought him into this," he said, referencing Bob and then continuing before she had a chance to reply. 

"As long as Owens is alright with it, I guess Bob is a part of this now. It's what you've probably wanted all along, right?" 

"I can't stand him!" Joyce burst out suddenly and Hopper froze, staring at her. 

"What?" 

"Owens! I can't stand the way he says he's helping, but at the same time it feels like he's screwing us over and I can't figure out where his loyalties lie!" she exclaimed and Hopper hadn't been expecting that. He struggled with what to say, still on his thought train about Bob, and she burst out more. 

"It's like he does and doesn't believe me. The other night Will's skin appeared weird, like there were black tendrils underneath his skin and they weren't his veins. I felt a presence in the room, it felt dark, and yet there was nothing I could see and when Owens came in he obviously thought I was crazy and said everything was all normal with Will, but he knows something is going on, he knows it! Otherwise he wouldn't have gone through all this and put Will in this coma, seemingly worried about his condition! What do you think?" 

Hopper paused, careful with his words. 

"I think you're right about that. But we should be more upset with Dr. Brenner because Owens answers to him more than himself. He told me that when Mike was here just a couple days ago, Brenner tortured him because he saw Eleven."

Joyce gasped, connecting the dots from her time with the frightened girl and Brenner's insistence on taking her back with him. She let out a deluge of profanity filled insults about that man and Hopper couldn't help but smile. At least they agreed completely on that.

"I know, but I think Mike's okay. I saw him yesterday with the other two and there he was, already planning again. I had no idea about what happened, but I'm going to check on him tomorrow and try to talk him out of retaliating. I can't stand him getting hurt, but he's a tough kid." 

"He really cares about her and Will."

"Yeah. He feels bad about being scared to see her the way she is now."

"She needs care, Hop. If we ever get her out of here, we're going to have to talk about how to handle her. She'll never fit in a normal school with the way she is right now and I'd hate for her to be in diapers for the rest of her life and be stuck in some hospital."

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Hopper told her. 

"Right, right, I know. I don't even know what's going to happen with my boy."

Hopper stepped forward and maybe it was too forward, but he pulled and wrapped her into a close hug. She tightened at first, face stuck in surprise, but then she loosened, hugging him back gently. 

"Thanks, Hop," she muttered as they broke away.

"You want me to stay tonight? Unless the Doc kicks me out?" Hopper asked and she saw that old spark in his eyes, but she had to let him down. 

"I don't know, I'm sorry, I don't think it's a good idea because I'd feel guilty, you know... Bob can't be here too." 

He picked up on her tone and moved to the door, closing the moment before it pricked either of them. 

"It's good, I get it. I'll see you soon, Joyce. Goodnight." 

7:00 PM

Eleven sat next to Papa on his cot and let herself be entertained with a bedtime story book about an old farmer with gray hair like Papa's and all of his barnyard animals. She found herself staring at the pages in rapture and longing, seeing the illustrated colorful pasture with the cows and she patted the page with her hand. 

"Want."

Papa glanced at her with a bit of a smile and pointed at the page. 

"You want a farm? I don't know about that, they are a lot of work." 

Frustrated, she kept patting the green grass and blue sky. 

"Want, Papa."

He realized what she was getting at and his expression changed into one of unforgiving.

"No, I'm afraid this is only a storybook and it's designed to look colorful and happy so you will like it. The reality is, the outside world is a very big and frightening place for little ones like you. Remember when you wandered outside and got lost? Mr. Lion was very lonely for days and I had to search far and wide, coming to find you myself."

Eleven frowned, but she couldn't recall when that had happened. The last time she'd been outside was when she had escaped, not wandered, and ran for her life. Her heart ached, gazing at the cheery animals and pretty landscape stuck in a book and she wished she could plant herself in the page with them. Papa could come too, only if he wanted, and they could pet the cows together. Maybe if they lived inside a picture book, they could finally be happy together and he'd never punish her and she wouldn't mind being stuck with him inside pages as long as the sun shone and the fields were green, dotted with happy animals.   

"Cow. Want cow." Eleven tapped on the large black and white animal and Papa seemed amused. 

"Yes, I suppose you would. Did you know your milk comes from a cow?"

Her eyes widened in amazement and he explained in simple terms that girl cows produce the milk from their utters and humans harvest and process it.

"Milk cow," she stated contentedly. 

"Yes, that's right."

Papa turned the page and continued reading the rest of the story as her head drooped and rested on his forearm. He closed the book and set it aside before gently starting to stand up and move her. She whined in protest and he paused as her eyelids fluttered open. 

"Papa... sleep?" 

"Yes, it's bedtime." 

"No... want Papa." 

He shook his head as she tried to latch onto him and he pulled her off the cot.

"You have to sleep in your crib, Eleven. It's safer that way, but don't worry, Papa will be right over here." He indicated to his cot and she nodded, not satisfied, but certainly not wanting to push him.

"Milk?" she asked as he put her down in the crib. 

"No, you already had milk today, remember?" 

"More?"

"No, I can't have you getting sick if you drink too much. Would you like a special treat tomorrow?"

She nodded enthusiastically and he promised she'd get to have more milk and another Eggo before bidding goodnight and locking the bars in place. She settled down, snuggling into the blanket and Mr. Teddy Bear while Mr. Lion guarded her feet, and she watched Papa in the dim light going over to his cot and lying down. Within minutes he was still, his chest rising and falling deeply, but she found herself incredibly not sleepy. Bored, she kicked off her blanket and sat up, playing with the teddy bear in her lap until that wasn't interesting. She wanted to call for Papa and have him read another bedtime story, but more than that, she wanted to stretch her legs and run. Run outside, feel the air on her skin, hear noises of life, maybe she could even find a milk cow. She didn't care what Papa said about the book being unreal, she knew sunshine and grass and trees were real and she had to see them again. This room was so still and quiet, it was driving her insane and she desperately wanted to experience more. She studied the crib bars and decided that if she broke them, it would be impossible to escape without waking up Papa, so she tried moving the bars apart, not snapping, but bending them. The wood creaked and cracked softly as she focused, and Papa stirred in his sleep. She froze but he didn't wake up and she continued until there was a gap large enough for her to barely squeeze through and she carefully stepped a leg out, almost falling from the lack of using her legs to walk, and then she stood, shakily on two feet. She tiptoed past Papa's cot and to the door, which was locked, but luckily on the inside and she was able to quietly unlock it before slowly pushing it open. She padded out into the dark hallway, no guards in sight, and to the stairs (the elevator would make too much noise, she decided). Eleven snuck upstairs and up another floor, recognizing this to be the same floor she had found Will on before he was hurt by Papa. She wondered if he was still here, but every room she tried looking into was closed or empty. Disappointed, she went back downstairs and walked around until she saw a blinking light up ahead at the end of a hall. Curiously, she followed with her gaze on the light and then she reached it, looking around. Her eyes widened, seeing a swath of crimson blood stained on the floor and she saw teared cloth pieces of a guard's uniform with it. There was a strange guttural noise that made her heart jump and the hair stand up on her skin. The light strobed strongly and spinning around, she suddenly found herself facing the culprit of the sound and she gasped at the sight of it. It had the appearance of a medium sized dog, but its face was anything but canine. She stepped backward as the face opened, in the same fashion of the Demogorgon, and hundreds of bloody teeth flashed at her. The light then completely went out, plunging the hall in darkness and Eleven screamed and ran off down the dark hallway. The monster bounded after her, lunging gallops on its hind legs, and was nearly reaching her.

"PAPA! PAPA!" she screamed as she ran as fast as she could, but the creature was faster. It roughly tackled her to the ground, but she used her power to throw it off her, slamming it into the wall and it snarled, shaking itself as she scrambled to her feet and flung her body away, her heart colliding with her ribs. She turned a corner and hurled herself into a storage closet, shutting the door tight and pushing buckets and mops against it, and huddled into the corner, hands covering her mouth from breathing. She heard the creature amble past and then silence. Shaking uncomfortably, she refused to move an inch for hours and eventually she must have fallen asleep because the next moment she knew was that yells awoke her and she startled, immediately noticing she had soiled herself badly and she stood up quickly, needing to get out of this diaper as soon as possible... but what if the monster was still out there? Is that why people were yelling? She waddled to the door and listened, realizing the yells were calling for her. 

"ELEVEN? ELEVEN? ELEVEN!"

She heard Papa's voice mixing with the other men and she hesitated before cracking the door open, knowing he was going to be angry about what she did and, even worse, that a monster had attacked her. 

"ELEVEN!"

She peeked out and saw several guards carrying flashlights, patrolling up and down the hall with Papa standing with his hands on his hips at the far end. He was speaking heatily to a soldier.

"No, she's not that smart, she can't go very far. Keep searching inside!"

Eleven gasped as one of the guards saw her and called out, coming swiftly towards her. She shrank back instinctively as he approached and he made a disgusted face before yelling to Papa.

"Sir, I've located her! And, whew, is she a mess!"

Brenner hurried down the hall and Eleven couldn't bear to look at him as he stood in front of her, so she kept her eyes downcast as a couple guards snickered behind him.

"Look at her, she really crapped herself this time." 

"She's in deep shit." 

"That's enough," Papa snapped to them and he forced her chin up. She looked up at his furious face and tears pooled in her eyes. 

"I'm sorry, Papa."

"Save it. Let's get you changed." He tugged her along down the hallway and she waddled, feeling shame as several pairs of eyes silently stared at her. Once back in her room, Papa didn't even put her on the cot at first, instead choosing to unbutton her outfit while she stood up and ripping off the dirty diaper to quickly dispose of it.

"Lay down," he ordered, pulling gloves on and she fell backwards onto the cot as he grabbed a couple of wipes and cleaning her completely before applying an ample amount of powder to her bottom and inside of a fresh diaper. He did it all very mechanically and systemically, finishing promptly by taping her up in two diapers for extra protection, not trusting she'd be able to hold in anything. She awkwardly sat up, her legs pushed apart slightly by the thickness of the padding, and he left her there momentarily before coming back with a nurse who thoroughly checked her blood pressure, heart rate, eyes, ears, nose, throat, and temperature. 

"All normal," she reported, but Papa didn't look pleased and once the nurse left, he pushed Eleven back down on the changing cot and loomed above her. At this point, the lights came back on and she blinked against the brightness and watched him studying her. Her stomach was writhing from nerves and she waited for him to speak.

"Eleven... it never fails how often you disappoint me. I thought we'd be past these games and attempts to leave by now." 

"But Papa - "

"I don't want to hear excuses from someone who can't control her emotions and who sits in her own waste overnight."

She stayed silent and he left her side, coming back with a needle poised in his hand. It gleaned in the overhead light and she winced, squirming on the cot. 

"No..." she whined and he grimaced.

"I'm going to have to keep you under sedation for some time until I can trust you."

"No! Wait! Papa, it was monster!" she cried as he began to lower the syringe. This made him pause.

"Monster? Oh, did you have a scary, bad dream and decide the only solution was to escape and hide in a closet to go poop?" She wanted to kick him for his taunting, unbelieving voice and she bit back tears. 

"No, Upside Down monster. It - " she tried, but he cut her off abruptly.

"I think it's been a very long night for you. Time to become a little sleepyhead now." Papa injected her so fast, before she could even process what was happening, and she passed out. Brenner sighed, dressing her in a white footed sleeper for the day, and left her on the cot. He knew the "monster" she spoke of, for it had been shot to death earlier outside by soldiers, who had captured it by using shock sticks and chains. It was the result of a completely accidental breach from the basement below and Owens had already given him grief over it.

"Someday you're going to have to choose between these creatures or actual human beings, including your precious little girl!"

He didn't doubt Eleven had run into it, although that would be hard to prove in terms of security footage. The electricity in the building had gone off grid for a half hour and there was no footage of her. Why she had ruined her crib and decided to leave in the first place was beyond him and he didn't care for her answer because it would be ungrateful. He provided her with more than she'd had her entire childhood and yet she still betrayed his trust and vied for independence. What would it take for her to finally succumb to him? He believed he was doing everything right, no matter what his absurd outspoken colleague argued; obviously he knew nothing about fathering test subjects and the dedication it took.

Brenner gazed down at the sleeping girl with disappointment and put her stuffed animal companions down next to her. When would she ever learn? 

Chapter Text

October 22, 1984 5:00 PM

HNL

Dr. Owens was met with beastly snarls and growls from a large steel cage full of the dog size Demogorgons, lashing at the bars and roaring, spitting blood. He saw what had been a hunk of raw venison meat with just the rack of bones remaining left on the bottom at their feet; they ate pounds of it a day and at this rate, the Hawkins deer population was in severe decline and they had been receiving complaints from local hunters. These creatures had quickly outgrown feeding on smaller game such as rabbits, squirrels, and foxes, but Owens knew these creatures needed more than deer... they craved human beings above all else. 

"Nasty suckers, huh?" he commented to the staff and watched as one of the scientists came forth with a blowtorch and held it up to the cage, causing the creatures to shriek and flail away. 

"We're still running trials on the more mature specimens, but it seems that they are not as affected from the heat as the juveniles are and longer exposure time is needed to inflict any damage." A lab-coated man with round glasses handed Owens a sheet of statistics and he frowned, skimming it. It was good to know these things had a weakness in the first place, but it wasn't enough on the stronger almost-adults and there was too much risk, especially after the latest incident with Eleven.  

"Terminate all the specimens reaching maturity," Owens told the room loud and clear, but there were several glances of hesitancy among the scientists.  

"But sir, we are under orders from Dr. Brenner..." 

"My orders. You're under my orders to terminate all those reaching maturity. I don't care how you do it, just get it done - and quickly."

"But we can't - "

"Do it please," he ordered with finality, no arguments allowed, and the scientists nodded and a muttered chorus of 'yes, sir' came out from the group. He smiled grimly at them and turned away to leave.

To hell with some of Martin's "pets".

Owens made his way upstairs and walked into Will's room to see Joyce lying on her side on her cot, staring intently at her son. Owens cleared his throat, moving forward, slightly concerned. 

"Wait," Joyce whispered, pointing, and Owens turned to look. 

"What is it?" 

"His fingers are twitching." 

Owens squinted and could see a faint twitch of his index and middle fingers. 

"It's in him," she whispered dramatically and Owens frowned. 

"What do you mean? What's in him?"

"Will has the Upside Down in him. I don't know how exactly, but it found a way inside him."

"And how do you think that happened?" he asked, humoring her.

"It's like an alien movie and he's been taken over by another life form inside him ever since he came out of that place and maybe it's been dormant in him all this time!"

Owens shook his head, giving her exasperation. 

"Is this because of what Bob said? You know life isn't a movie, right? What you're seeing are just natural reflexes, it's not alarming and I don't see the... what did you call it? The black veins?"

Joyce glanced up at him, intense glare in her brown eyes.

"I know what I saw with the tendrils under his skin!" 

Owens held up his hands, backing off.

"Well, we'll see about that when he wakes up, okay?"

His tone was placating and he could tell she couldn't understand how he could be skeptical when they were in unexplored territory; to her at this point they shouldn't be ruling out anything, probably even aliens. Owens didn't denounce her intelligence (she was shrewd and persistent, he'd give her that, however she wasn't the one here with the medical degree), but he left before she could try to weasel answers out of him and he chose to meet up with Brenner in his office.

"She's partly figuring it out about her son's real condition. We can't hide all this much longer," he told Martin seriously but received little reaction.

"That doesn't concern you?" 

"It will be her choice to accept it or not," Brenner stated, uncaring, and Owens waved a hand dismissively at him.  

"I know where you stand. I'm going to try my best, however." 

"Fine." 

An heavy silence fell between them, only being broken by Owens fiddling with his cup of pens and pencils. Finally he glanced up cautiously. 

"How's the kiddo?" he asked and saw the man tighten. 

"She's sedated." 

"You have to stop putting her under constantly. It's bad for her health and isn't productive." 

"I'll consider it. She's waking up soon anyway." 

"Good."

Another uncomfortable silence and Brenner headed for the door, Owens breathing a small sigh of relief once he was gone. He tried to get along with most people, but Martin was impossible to feel any connect with. It was pitiful, actually. 

6:30 PM

Eleven blinked her eyes open lazily and she felt too warm. Lifting her arms, which felt like twenty pounds each, she saw her hands were back in the mittens and her whole body cocooned in the white footed one-piece. It was awfully comfortable though and the heat from being in it made her sleepy (or was that Papa's needle that did that?) and she struggled to not pass out again, so she wiggled to keep herself awake, for there wasn't much of any other motion to do and when Papa walked inside with the bottle, she cried out for him to help her up. He wouldn't respond and just set the bottle down on the table, grabbing his book and settling on his cot.

"Papa, please?" she whined and wriggled. He swung one leg over the other, flipping a few pages nonchalantly. She tried another approach.

"Cow milk? Want cow milk." 

Still nothing and now she was frustrated, determined to get his attention.

"Papa! Papa! Papa! Papa! Papa! Papa! Papa! Papa! Papa! Papa!"

He dropped the book and pushed himself off the cot, going to hover over her. His face was dangerous and she quieted down, staring up warily.

"I want you to promise to never leave me, Eleven, no matter how scared you feel. Can your little brain understand that at least? Never leave Papa. Say it."

She fought back tears and she knew if she said it, he would be happy and she didn't want him to be unhappy because then she wouldn't be happy.

"I... promise. Never leave Papa."

His mouth stretched into a wolfish smile and he leaned down to tickle her, his fingers dancing over her bodysuit and down to her covered feet bottoms. The diaper crinkled with her movement and she giggled despite herself.

"Papa!" she cried and he came close to laughing himself with her before straightening up and removing her mittens, seating her upwards, then grabbing the bottle.

"I know you want this, and I think you've earned it for your promising to me, hmm?"

She nodded and he passed over the bottle for her to drink, leaving briefly to come back with dinner: a cup of applesauce, generous glop of mashed potatoes, and peas and carrots. She frowned at the peas, but let him feed her.

"That's my girl," Papa murmured, wiping her mouth with a napkin and then sat back, letting her drink the last of the milk from the bottle by herself. 

"Would you like some time outside?" he suddenly asked softly and she felt her heart leap. Outside? He would let her outside?

"Okay," she nodded and he took her hand, pulling her up off the cot and towards the door out into the hallway. He let go, looking at her expectantly and she stood confused. 

"Well? Aren't you going to walk around? It's good for your body after you eat and I can't carry you around all the time anymore." 

She glanced uncertainly around the empty hallway with its shiny linoleum and tiled gray walls. It was far from what she had in mind.  

"Outside?" 

"This is outside." 

"No. Where are... trees? Grass... cows?" 

"That only exists in storybooks. This is your outside, Eleven. Now walk around, burn some energy, but only on this floor." He stepped aside to put his back against the wall and cross his arms, staring at her and she felt unsure. The memory of the creature chasing her from the other night came rushing back and she walked backwards towards her room, but Papa stuck a hand out, blocking her from entering. 

"No. No sitting or lying down, I want you to get some exercise." 

"Exer-cise?" 

"Yes, walk and run around this hall. I'll be here the whole time."

It felt odd to do that and she was still mad at Papa, so she stayed put by the door and mimicked him in crossing her arms. He shook his head, prodding at her to get moving, but she jutted her chin out and dug in her heels on the floor. He scowled and gave her a slight push and she pushed back, forcing him up against the wall.

"No. Want outside or in room." 

"Stop being a problem. Just wander around, little ones like you do it all the time. Explore, Eleven." 

"Outside!" she loudly told him.

"Outside is inside," he insisted firmly.

"NO!" she yelled and with a fling of her hand and a burst of anger, she tossed him off the wall to the floor. He gasped as he hit the floor, catching his fall with his hands and struggling to get back up. Eleven let out a sob and ran away down the hall, prompting him to shout after her. She went up the stairs and kept running, sidestepping anyone she saw and they quickly got out of the way, jumpy around her because they knew how easily she could dispose of them, but she didn't want to hurt anyone really; she wished they would just all go away. The staff flattened themselves against walls as Dr. Brenner rushed past as well, a minute later, and one of the guards groaned and pressed his radio. 

"Looks like Subject Eleven is loose again."

The alarms started and Eleven began to cry harder, pressing her hands over her ears, wishing it would stop. She searched for exits, but every floor only led to another endless winding hallways and closed doors. She glanced back and saw Papa was almost caught up with her. No, she couldn't let that happen and she struggled to remember the path Dr. Owens had taken her to the lobby to see Mike... that was yet another painful memory, but she pushed herself forward at the thought of him. She went into an elevator and studied the numbers, pressing a higher digit, and a minute later, the doors slid open and she swiftly snapped the necks of two guards waiting for her and ran out into the lobby towards the doors. She heard yelling behind her and jolted at the loud bang of a gunshot, followed by Papa yelling very loudly. 

"HOLD YOUR FIRE! YOU COULD'VE SHOT HER! I NEED HER ALIVE AND UNHARMED, IS THAT CLEAR?!"

Eleven shoved against the door, but it was locked and she didn't have time to figure out the locking system. She glanced back, seeing Papa's face in a state of panic and the rush of bodies flanking him, weapons trained straight at her.

"SIR, SHE'S GETTING AWAY!" 

"ELEVEN, STOP! YOU'RE GOING TO GET HURT IF YOU KEEP GOING!"

She tuned out all sound and in an instant, the glass shattered violently and she shielded her face, then she stepped through gingerly and ran out onto the sidewalk. 

She was outside.

She wished she could have time to take it all in, but it was dark nighttime and it felt chilly, and another bang propelled her forward and she was off like a shot down the concrete and into the golden streetlight-lit parking lot, running for her life, her heart pounding so fast she couldn't keep up with the beats. 

Papa wanted exercise.

She almost smiled, thrusting herself towards the shadowed gathering of trees and ignoring the shots firing until a single thought caused her to come to a complete stop, falling over her own feet and almost falling down.

Will and his mom.

They were still inside and he was too sick; he couldn't leave.

No, she couldn't leave them behind... she had to go back. Her head turned to the large mass of suited and uniformed bodies headed right for her and she sat down on the ground, holding her arms up and covering her head. 

"STOP! HOLD YOUR FIRE!" Papa shouted to the men and the footfalls across the pavement seemed deafening to her, a stampede until they reached her and she heard breathing.

"Did you find her?" Dr. Owens' voice called out in the distance and Eleven moved her head up, seeing Papa striding towards her and the lowering of many guns. A solider started towards her as well, but Papa barked at him to stay back. He knelt down carefully and Eleven curled around herself. When he spoke, it was an urgent whisper. 

"Eleven, I can't believe you did this, but come back inside with me now and I'll spare you any punishment." 

That was surely a lie, but she didn't want to push it, so she unfurled and accepted his outstretched hand while Owens caught up to them and was panting a few feet away. He looked from her to the forest of trees as Papa pulled her up.

"Why did you stop?" Owens asked point-blank and she stared at him, almost wondering if he was... disappointed? Papa must've sensed that too, for he verbally snapped.

"Sam, keep out of this!" 

"Eleven, what made you stop? You could have kept going, although we would have caught up eventually, but why did you choose to stop running?" Owens pressed.

"Will," she quietly replied and Papa squeezed her shoulder. She tried to read Owens' expression, but it was ambiguous. 

"Enough of this game. Eleven, come now." Papa led her firmly back to the entrance, stepping around the shards of broken glass and inside the building, where the alarms were still blaring loud as ever. They finally stopped by the time she was taken back down to the floor her room was on and Papa pushed her alone inside, shutting the door. Only a moment later, it opened again and Papa walked inside with Owens behind him.

"How did this happen? She never has been able to get that far since you've done your treatment."

"We'll discuss it later."

"No, we're discussing it now because there must have been a reason she was inclined to run and I'm betting it was because of you, wasn't it?"

Brenner grabbed his arm and hauled him out of the room, barely closing the door with just a crack open and Eleven sat down on her cot, listening to the hushed voices of the two men, catching only fragments of their conversation. 

"...only getting stronger..." 

"...she wouldn't exercise inside..." 

"...but you can't... outside..." 

"...I just want... she won't..."

Eleven tensed, hearing footsteps and the door swung open, Owens coming into the room, glancing back at Brenner.

"You're going about this the wrong way, Martin. You want her to exercise? Let's get her to play." He went to the container of toys and pulled out a soft ball, tossing it up in the air and catching it in his palm. 

"What are you doing with that?" 

"What does it look like? I'll play catch with her and that will get her moving while still being safely confined to this hall." 

Brenner seemed aghast at him and stood still while Owens coaxed her up and out the room, instructing her to stand a few feet away from him in the hallway and telling her to keep her hands out. Brenner leaned against the door frame, folding his arms across his chest once more, but watching with interest.

"Okay, so I'm going to toss you the ball and you catch it." 

Eleven looked at her hands and then at the ball and Owens clarified, realizing she was considering using her ability. 

"With your hands only. Let's try it, okay? Just like this." Owens gently threw the ball over to her and she clumsily caught it, clutching it close to her chest.

"That's good. Now, toss it back to me." 

She threw it back underhanded and he easily caught it, stepping back two steps and telling her to do the same. 

"Easy, right? Let's do it again."

They tossed back and forth and after every catch, both of them would take a step or two farther away, making catching more challenging. Owens seemed to be enjoying himself and Eleven was starting to as well, it was simple yet somehow fun to anticipate the ball's trajectory through in the air and her determination to capture it.

"I haven't done this is a long time," Owens remarked with a grin as he threw the ball and Eleven grabbed it just barely, hanging on with her fingers. She tossed it back too high and it bounced off the ceiling with a thump. He stooped down and snatched it up, winding his arm up.

"Go long, Eleven," he called and threw the ball far down the hall. Her eyes trained on it and she dove to catch it, miraculously getting it before it hit the ground.  

"Nice catch, kiddo!"

She smiled and threw it back as hard as she could since they were standing much farther apart. The ball flew up fast and hit the ceiling again with a thunk before dropping down and she hurried to grab it.

"That's enough," Brenner spoke up and Eleven almost forgot he had been there this whole time. She came forward and dropped the ball into Owens' hands, a little disappointed to stop playing. He returned the ball to the container with the rest of her toys and headed out.

"Good job," he praised and she gave him a tiny smile before being steered inside by Papa. She went to sit on her cot, fingers tingling from the catches and she felt a bit happier than she had in a long time.

"Eleven, sit and stay. I'll be back in a bit," Brenner told her as if speaking to a dog and then he too was gone out the door. She waited for what felt like hours and she tried not to think about a possible punishment he could have in store for her, but she thought of Mike's pain from the electricity and that brief happiness evaporated and she started to shudder and shake with anxiety, afraid that Papa would use it on her too... she had never seen anything more painful, way worse than needles. The sudden click of the door and whoosh of air into the room made her jump and seeing Papa holding something small in his hands made her cower back in fear.

"I'm sorry, sorry Papa!" she cried, scrambling to protect herself with her hands over her face and head, although she wasn't sure if she could since that device he had used on Mike looked like it could penetrate anything. Papa could just point it and it would work almost like magic. She squeezed her eyes shut and braced for the horrific feeling and Mike's face twisted in agony replayed over and over in her mind. One, two, three, four, five, six... she counted the seconds and the times she replayed the memory until it occurred to her she wasn't feeling anything at all. 

"Eleven?"

She glanced up, trembling, and saw Papa standing at the foot of her cot, staring at her like she'd lost her mind and then she looked at his hands. There was no device, no tool, nothing but a small skinny slip of paper that reminded her of the bracelet she had worn a while back.

"Sorry... Papa?" Her eyebrows quirked in confusion and he sighed, sinking down onto the cot next to her, displaying the object in his outstretched hand. She breathed easier; it was just a piece of paper. 

"You promised me." He sounded hurt and she felt guilt for some reason.

"I should punish you, but I'm not going to do anything major this time because you chose to stop and come back willingly with me. This here is just a precaution in case you ever happen to escape again, which will make me very upset and I hope you won't, but if you do I have a means for someone to contact me if they find you," Papa explained as he took her right wrist, wrapping what she thought was just paper around her wrist. It was another bracelet, made of a thin flexible plastic that covered the paper underneath with identification and it snapped into place securely around her, but this one had no light on it.

"It won't trigger the alarms," Papa told her and she peered closely at the words printed out on the paper: 

PATIENT #011. DR MARTIN BRENNER.

Below that were several words, including a huge word she couldn't read and then there was the address to Hawkins Lab and a phone number. Papa pointed at the large unfamiliar word.

"Schizophrenic. That's a word meaning you are very sick and if someone outside these walls reads that, they'll know to contact this number and I'll be able to find you quickly without any... mess." He paused, thinking of Connie Frazier's work on that diner owner. That had raised too much suspicion and he couldn't risk a repeat of that. 

"Sick?" Eleven whispered and he nodded, getting up. 

"Yes, it means you're sick and need care, but that's only for this ID bracelet. I know you are much better than what we began with when you returned."

She rubbed her fingers over the clear plastic, trying to get used to the snug feeling around her skin as Papa went to sit at the edge of his cot and Eleven was fine with taking her mind off this new weird bracelet development to watch him, utterly fascinated by his nightly routine and to see him in a more relaxed way that made her realize he was human, but much different than anyone she had watched before. For one, he was very particular: he always removed his shoes and set them aside on the floor gently, perfectly side by side, the soles touching. If they were just an inch off-center, he had to straighten them into position before he could then proceed in taking his socks off, although he kept them on sometimes (such as tonight) and then he'd remove his tie if he had one on, unbutton his shirt, revealing the white undershirt underneath, but he never fully took it off, rolling the cuffs back and unbuttoning those as well. He always wore his slacks to sleep and Eleven wondered if they were comfortable or not and why he didn't wear soft clothes like she did. He would finally drink from the glass of water and lie down, occasionally reading from his book before he would nod off, the book slipping from his fingers and he'd wake up to put it over on the table, jostled slightly and his hair ruffled. He'd get up and go to the door to turn the lights off, bid her goodnight if she wasn't already asleep, and lie down once more to drop off for the night. Eleven was tired of just watching this and she felt like she wanted to be a part of it, so the moment he laid down, she moved off her cot and went to sit on his. This seemed to surprise him.

"I see someone is not very sleepy tonight. You sure were awake moments ago and in such a hurry to leave earlier," he remarked somewhat bitterly and she inched closer, peering over at his book. It was full of many words that she didn't even know were words and she couldn't make out over half of them. There were zero pictures. Frowning, she leaned back and he closed it, looking at her curiously.

"I'm glad you changed your mind, but why are you here? You should be over on your bed asleep. Are you still hungry or needing a change?"

She shook her head and leaned into his side, but he gently pushed her back. 

"How am I supposed to sleep with you here?"

She didn't care to answer that question, instead thinking of how she was supposed to sleep by herself. Papa hadn't been in a hurry to replace her crib and she felt terribly lonely without the crib corralling her in safely... she felt too exposed. Besides, shouldn't he be glad she was wanting to be close with him?

"Do you need a bedtime story? How about the farm and we can read about the cows again?" 

"Milk cows?" Her voice lifted a bit.  

"Yes, the milk cows," he replied a little impatiently and she shook her head again. 

"No?" 

"No."

"Okay. Well, Papa needs sleep as much as you do so I'm going to turn the lights off now and go to bed. I think you should too, over there where you belong."

He left the cot and shut out the lights. She blinked in the darkness until she saw the nightlight and that gave her some relief, but she wouldn't leave Papa's cot. He settled down, getting comfortable and pulling the blanket up over his body and turning his back to her. She waited a few minutes and then lifted up one end of the blanket, scooting her body underneath it and snuggling right up to Papa's back. 

"Eleven, what are you doing?" he whispered into the darkness.

"Want Papa," she stated simply and closed her eyes, easily being pulled by sleep and the warmth of his body. He lay stiffly until he suddenly rolled over and she opened her eyes, face to face with him.

"Are you scared to be alone? Is that what this is about?" 

She nodded slowly and he reached up a hand under the blanket to cup her cheek.

"I know it's hard without the crib, but you need to sleep on your own." He felt conflicted with himself, knowing that if she physically was a young child this wouldn't be too much of a problem, but she wasn't the body of a three year old anymore, even if her mind was, and he knew how odd this must look and he liked to keep a boundary. He felt like a part of him had been violated and that she had wormed her way past his exterior. He loved that she was accepting him, but was this too far? She should be in her crib, but the crib was not available and he feared if he put her on her cot, she'd cry relentlessly like the other night, thus causing him sleeplessness and he couldn't have that. One night couldn't hurt; if it bonded her more to him, the lesser chance of her ever escaping again...

So he chose to embrace this new phase.

"Okay." He threw off the blanket and at first Eleven thought he was going to kick her out and leave, but he only stood up to retrieve her stuffed animals from her cot and bring them over to his. 

"If you want to sleep with me, I think your friends deserve a spot too, don't they?" 

Friends. Her heart ached. 

"Yes, Papa."

He shifted position, making room for her to wedge the lion and teddy bear between them. She closed her eyes and listened to his peaceful steady breathing and he listened to hers. It was a bit too intimate for his liking, but he didn't mind too much because he hoped for the best:

That she would never fight him now with such attachment. 

Chapter Text

October 28, 1984 8:00 AM

HNL 

Morning came as usual, although neither Brenner nor Eleven could truly tell naturally in the closed room devoid of prominent light, and Papa's beeping alarm clock he had placed on the side table was the only indicator of such time. Eleven stirred under the blanket, feeling her diaper wet and she nudged him as he shifted as well, lifting off the sheets and blanket, getting up half asleep and taking her over to the changing cot to clean her up, affixing a fresh diaper onto her and putting her back into the white sleeper. This had been the routine occurrence every day for the past week since he had chosen to let her sleep on his cot with him and he found himself going through the motions, now stifling a yawn and flicking on the lights, causing her to blink, and checking his watch.

"Time for another day, Eleven." 

"Sleep?" 

"Sleep is over. It's morning now."

He walked over to his cot and sat, pulling his shoes on and she followed, moving next to him. She pushed against his body, wanting him to lie back down. 

"Stop. It's time to stay awake."

He suddenly felt himself being abruptly shoved down to the thin mattress, head slamming the pillow, without her touching him and he was pinned on his back, eyes wide and he felt his heart start to beat faster in trepidation. She wouldn't hurt him, would she?

"Papa, I want sleep. With you," she demanded quietly and he swallowed before trying to speak calmly as the pressure mounted on his spine. 

"Let go, Eleven. I won't be going anywhere, but we need to get up for the day." 

"No. You said... me and you, and lion and bear. All the attent-atten..." She paused, difficulty with the word.

"Attention. You want my attention? Well, you certainly have it. Now, let me go and I'll stay." 

"Don't leave?" 

"I promise."

She released her invisible force on him and he breathed a sigh of relief, sitting up and rubbing his extremely sore back. 

"Don't do that again," he muttered, displeased.

She pummeled her small body into him, catching him off guard and his balance tipped, and he fell over onto his back again.

"Eleven!" he gasped as she nestled into his side, somewhat entangling her legs with his, and laying her head on his collarbone. He felt something soft pushing into his ribs and he moved, trying to reach it, but Eleven grabbed it before he could and Mr. Lion popped up to rest on his stomach. He cautiously glanced around and shifted again, feeling for the other one. 

"Where's Mr. Teddy Bear hiding?"

She rooted around under the blanket and sheets, and pulled up the bear, pressing him in between her and Papa.

"Alright," he nodded and he let her cuddle for a while. Brenner felt himself relaxing as Eleven nuzzled her face into his chest and he sighed, grateful for the bonding and devotion she was displaying. They had come so far since her temper tantrums and blatant distrust; this past week had been the most cooperative and easiest time he'd ever had with her during her whole life. Even Owens, unaware of this new closeness, had mostly left them alone and Brenner was beginning to feel as if he had finally won Eleven over and there could be no more problems between them. Father and daughter forever.

"Papa..." she murmured contently and he smiled, rolling over and wrapping his arms around her, rubbing her back. He was glad he'd disconnected the camera from her room after the first night she slept on his cot with him (and since he was with her nearly twenty-four-seven, he didn't really need the surveillance) because the last he needed was Sam seeing this and likely losing it. Jealousy? No such concept for Brenner; he had everything he needed right now and he realized he should have done this earlier. Eleven was so easy to placate when her desires were simple and manipulating her through affection was a breeze... not to mention a part of him enjoyed this time together too. They stayed snuggled for a half hour until Brenner gently pushed himself away and sat up. Eleven blinked again, clutching the stuffed lion and sitting up, staring down at his tousled fur and then looking up to Papa's equally fluffed up hair. She reached up to touch his messy white crest, but he backed away, getting up.

"I have to take a shower," he announced and she followed him off the cot towards the door.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked curiously as she waited for him to open the door. She hadn't ever done this before.  

"Shower?" Eleven quietly wondered.

"Yes, I'm going to go take a shower like I always do, but I'll be back." 

"Bath?" 

"You want a bath?" 

"Shower bath?"

Now he was annoyed and impatient. 

"A shower is not a bath and a bath is not a shower. If you want a bath, I'll fill it up after my shower."

She grabbed onto his sleeve and he realized there was no shaking her, so he walked out and tugged her along to the bathroom, where they entered and he told her to wait outside while he undressed. She stood staring at him and he empathically pointed to the open door.

"Out. Now, I'm serious. This should only take a minute."

She obeyed and he shut the door firmly, quickly removing his clothes and stepping into the shower, tightly drawing the not-as-thick-as-he'd-like white curtain closed and running the water. It was like ice at first, but invigorating to him, and he called out loudly to Eleven as the water graduated to warm and pounded his aching back.

"Stay where you are, okay? I'll be out soon!" 

He couldn't hear a response if she even had one.

Outside in the hall, Eleven slowly opened the door and cautiously peered into the bathroom, expecting to see Papa, but she didn't and there was only the sound of a lot of pouring water. She sat down on the floor and waited, watching the curtain flutter lightly and Papa's unclear shadowy form move behind it. She wasn't sure why he couldn't take a bath like she always had to and why she couldn't take a shower instead of a bath. After a few minutes, the water shut off and Papa was bustling around behind the curtain and she heard the sound of a shampoo container opening and could hear him vigorously lathering before the water ran again and did so for several more minutes. When it stopped, there was a ringing silence and she shifted position on the floor, noticing how the air was steamier and the small mirror was fogged up. Papa was quiet and motionless until his voice sharply called out.

"Eleven, are you in here?"

"Yes, Papa," she replied and he muttered something she couldn't hear.

"Leave for a minute. I need to get out and you can't see this."

She stood up and walked out, fighting her childlike curiosity and wonder. He was fast though and suddenly the door opened and he stood in front of her, most of his body wrapped securely in a white towel, hair soaking wet and dripping onto his forehead.

"Now that was a good shower," he proudly exclaimed and smiled down at her, letting her inside, and she was fascinated by his new appearance. She couldn't remember ever seeing him like this before and she never knew it existed, so it enraptured her. Part of his bare chest that she could see was not exactly like Will's, yet it wasn't that different either, but it certainly was not like hers. Papa went to stand in front of the sink and the mirror he had wiped off with a towel, and took a comb to his wet hair and then slathered his face in foamy shaving cream before taking a razor and neatly shaving his lower face, keeping his sideburns trimmed.

"Interesting to you?" he asked of her blatant staring, almost amused, and she just nodded.

"Well, you'll never have to worry about doing this part," he told her, rapping the razor on the rim of the sink and indicating to his smooth cheeks and chin. She wasn't even sure what he had shaved off, but it reminded her of her own lack of hair and she patted her head. 

"Hair?" 

"Yes, that's your hair and you don't need much of it like I do. Babies don't have much hair."

This upset her a little because Mike had thought she had looked pretty with the longer hair, but she felt a little better when she remembered he had told her she was 'still pretty' with the way she was, so maybe it didn't matter.

"You have to leave again because I need to get my clothes on," Papa told her curtly, steering her out and closing the door. He came out a couple minute later, dressed fairly casual in a light blue dress shirt and slacks with his typical black dress shoes.

"Now it's your turn." He smiled and brought her inside to lay her down on the floor mat and she wiggled in protest.

"No bath!" she cried and he paused from unbuttoning her sleeper and removing her ID bracelet.

"No bath? But I thought you were keen for one. You can't take a shower, that's for grown-ups like me."

"No bath," she insisted and he sighed, checking her over.

"Well, you should have one. It's been a couple days and with all your diapers... you'll feel better and cleaner, trust me."

She didn't have a choice clearly, so she let him put her through the usual bathing process and once she had been rinsed, he let her play with a rubber ducky while he went to retrieve her clothing for the day. He came back shortly with a folded diaper and dotted blue and white legless bodysuit to dress her in, and she got out of the tub and he dried her off in the towel, letting her know that she being very well behaved. He unfolded the diaper and placed it under her bottom and she noticed how it was cushioning her body more than usual.

"I was able to get some new thicker diapers for you to wear instead of putting you in two regular ones. These should be more absorbent and I don't want any leaks, since you've been going so easily. It might feel a little differently, but your clothes will still fit," Papa explained as he taped it up and then put the one-piece over her head and closing up the snaps. She did feel more snug in it and she looked down, taking in the bulkiness of the diaper fairly visible and obvious through the fabric and she frowned, thinking of how Mike would react. Would he still think she was 'pretty'? She hated to admit the answer.

"Much better, right?" Papa grinned, making sure her bracelet was on securely and then helping her up to sit, the diaper more crinkly than the previous and impossible to ignore. She just shrugged in response and he lifted her up into his arms with effort.

"Oh, you're lucky I'm still strong because I see you've retained your weight, but that's alright. I know Dr. Owens is glad that you are a little bigger now," he told her and she perked up at his name.

"Dr. Owens?" 

Papa was not very perked up.  

"Yes, he's happy you've been eating normally. What, did you want to see him?"

She nodded shyly, tucking her head into Papa's neck as he carried her down the hall and he considered her request. Both of them did actually need to meet up with him due to the boy's awakening later, something Brenner had almost forgotten was today, so it could work out as long as he kept a close hold on her and if those other boys showed up, he'd have to prohibit her from getting near or seeing him.

"We'll see him soon and maybe he might have a candy for you," he finally told Eleven and she smiled weakly. 

"Okay." 

9:00 AM

WHEELER HOUSE, HAWKINS INDIANA

"MICHAEL!"

"MOM, WHAT?!" Mike yelled back to his mom from the basement where he'd been going through his toys, determining which ones to get rid of, but he wasn't donating them to some neighbors or charity. These were going to be a special selection for El once she got free somehow, or maybe if he was lucky he'd be able to get the doctor to take them to her (so a letter was unacceptable, but what could a few toys do that was so taboo and incriminating at face value? Well, not mentioning the fact that he was managing to sneak in something via his old T-Rex dinosaur he'd named "Rory" that he hoped nobody would catch except El and this time it was pretty discreet). Besides, that asshole wanted her to act like a toddler, so toys she'd get. He'd tried taking a few of Holly's toys since they were definitely more babyish, but she'd thrown a fit and Mom freaked out, telling him to go through his own toys and get rid of some if he wasn't satisfied anymore. Dad had been worse, trying to sit him down and have a "talk" about becoming a man and letting go of childish pastimes. Well, if being a "man" meant being just like his father, Mike decided he was never going to grow up then.

Wait a minute... is Dr. Brenner onto something with this baby stuff to El? Holy shit! No, being in trapped a laboratory prison with a creepy father and crazy dangerous monsters was probably worse going to school and to some boring job. Definitely. And who would want to be forced to wear diapers, either? Yuck.

He tossed the dinosaur figurine into a brown sack and stood up upon hearing Mom's footsteps up above. She appeared on the landing of the stairwell and her expression was too serious. 

"What is it?" 

"Come to the phone. Will's mother wants to talk to you alone."

Wow, that doesn't sound good, but he went to the phone and answered. 

"Hello?"

"Mike, listen. Will is waking up, so if you want to see him, you better come over now."

"I'm coming," Mike replied at once and the phone clattered back to the receiver. His heart skipped a beat, but he couldn't tell if it was from excitement, or it was in a bad way. Maybe both.

"Mom, I'm leaving to the Lab for a bit! Everything's fine, Will's just having kind of a bad day and needs some support right now!" Mike called out to his mom as he hurried back down to the basement and snatched up the brown bag, running up the stairs. She was blocking his path to the front door, peppering him with questions and he rolled his eyes.

"Do you need me to drive you? Should I come too? And what is that?" She pointed at the sack and Mike made a string of stammering noises, holding it up. 

"It-It's um... lunch!" he blurted out, ducking and dashing around her out of the house with only his walkie-talkie and no jacket on before she had time to interrogate him more. He jumped on his bike and whirred down the sidewalk, contacting Lucas and Dustin.

"This is a code red! Code red! Will the Wise is active! Will is active! Do you copy?!" 

He heard their excited garble of replies on the other end and he zoomed down the road, hanging on to the sack tightly with the handlebars, the wind rippling through his long sleeve shirt and hair was freezing and his throat burned with the cold air, but he didn't care. He actually felt alive.

Mike arrived at Hawkins Lab in record time, his friends joining only a minute later, with Dustin complaining about his Halloween costume.

"I wish Will could go trick or treating with us on Wednesday. How can we all be the four Ghostbusters with one missing? It's going to look so stupid."

"Then I'll be both Spengler and Venkman," Lucas offered and Dustin snorted. 

"You can't be Spengler or Venkman and certainly not two people at once. Mike's supposed to be Venkman and you're Winston. We agreed months ago," Dustin disagreed and Lucas started to counter back, pissed off at this labeling.

"Oh shut up," Mike groaned. He'd already had this argument over the characters and wasn't ready to do it again when they were just about to see their friend who'd nearly died and been in a two week coma. Nothing was more important than Will right now. Luckily Dustin and Lucas seemed to get the cue and they hurried inside, being shepherded upstairs and Mike's gut clenched hard at the awful memory of the last time he was here. He was pretty sure that snake of guilt in his stomach had been zapped to death that day and he was left with its skin and bones rattling around in there. He shivered, remembering the nightmare he'd had this morning about Dr. Brenner stalking him in dark corners and the vibrating electricity... he basically almost wet the freaking bed.

"C'mon, Mike, let's go! What are you doing?" Dustin hollered, snapping his fingers at him and he realized he had been lagging behind. He shook his head, clearing the bad thoughts, and hurried up after them and the escorting guard. Dr. Owens stood outside the door to Will's room, blocking the entrance as the boys bustled up. He saw how frantic they were and held up a hand.

"Woah, how about one at a time, okay? Mike, you first."

Mike entered the room, noticing Joyce and Hopper at Will's bedside, but also... Bob Newby?! He hadn't realized that Bob was in the know about all this drama with Will and his coma.

"He's still out of it. We've been trying to get him to recognize us," Owens explained and Mike slowly sat down close to his friend. Owens did as well, jostling him aside a bit and he scowled, adjusting his chair. Owens held up a light and shone it into Will's oddly dull, dark eyes and he winced at it, blinking away.

"Too bright?" Owens tucked the light back into his pocket and studied Will carefully. 

"Do you remember who I am?" he asked seriously and Will stared at him, expressionless. 

"I don't know. I can't remember." 

There was a pause. 

"You don't know?" 

A shrug. 

"Okay." 

Owens glanced at Joyce and then jerked his head slightly towards her, staring at Will.

"Who's that over there? You should know her pretty well." 

Joyce gently squeezed her son's hand in her own and smiled down at him, rubbing his arm with her other hand as he glanced over to her. His eyes focused and his face contorted in effort.

"Sweetie, it's me," Joyce told him, getting concerned and as though he had an epiphany, he brightened up and relaxed. 

"Mom."

She breathed relief, tearing up, and praised him while cradling his face fondly, but he seemed nonplussed. Owens then pointed over at Hopper and asked who he was, but Will struggled for an solid answer.

"I... I don't, I..."

"Okay. We'll come back to him. How about this nice guy right here?" Owens pointed up at Bob hovering by Joyce and he smiled tentatively down at Will. 

"I don't know," Will said flatly and Bob looked crestfallen. 

"It's me, buddy. Bob. It's Bob."

Will glanced away back at Owens briefly before closing his eyes, shutting them all out.

"Are you tired?" the doctor asked and he gritted his teeth, wishing they would all leave him alone. He needed to see inside. 

"Just one more, Will, and then we'll leave you alone to rest. Do you know who this is?"

Owens motioned to Mike sitting besides him and Will refocused, the dark haired boy giving him a tentative smile also. Will visibly strained and the doctor assured him it was alright if he didn't know and not to force it too much, but he then cried out in certainty.

"Mike! Mike. That's my friend, Mike."

"That's right, that's right. Good," Owens praised and Will's face sank back to an even, flat calm as he closed his eyes again. After a beat, Owens spoke to everyone in the room. 

"Let's, uh, give him some space for a while."

"But what about Dustin and Lucas? They need to see him too," Mike reminded him and Owens reluctantly agreed, but he wasn't keen on it.

"Just for a minute so we can see if he identifies them too."

He went and opened the door, the two boys pushing past each other to hurry in, making their way straight to Will's bedside. Mike tried to explain that he wasn't in the best state and was having trouble remembering some people, but they didn't listen, crowding around and the commotion made Will open his eyes again, disgruntled.

"Will, it's us!" Dustin shouted, causing him to flinch.

"Are you okay?" Lucas asked anxiously as Dustin rolled on with more words.

"You've missed some crazy stuff again; Mike saw Eleven and we tried to get her to escape, but couldn't and then Mike saw her the next day, but was tortured by Brenner and - "

"Stop! You're overwhelming him," Mike said loudly, noticing Will's stressed face and hearing the spiking beeps on the heart rate monitor.

"Sorry," Dustin whispered and he sat down with Lucas a few feet away from the bed.

"Do you know who those two are?" Owens asked gently and Will murmured.

"What's that?"

"I don't know!" Will loudly exclaimed, his eyes flashing angrily, and the boys all looked at each other.

"Shit, he doesn't know?" Dustin whispered.

"Will, it's us. I'm Lucas Sinclair, remember? Fighter class Ranger in D&D, right?"

Will only shrugged. 

"I don't know. Maybe." 

"Maybe? What the hell does that mean?" Lucas appeared quite hurt and frustrated while Dustin gave it a try too. 

"And I'm our Bard. We've been friends since fourth grade, you gotta remember!"

Will sighed, closing his eyes, done with them altogether. Owens gave an apologetic glance at the two boys and then they were guided out, protesting, and Mike got up hesitantly to follow. Joyce and Bob were visibly upset and Hopper was silent, very serious, but Owens wasn't sure what to say in terms of comfort.

"We'll run some more brain scans and see if anything turns up," he promised, leaving quickly. 

10:00 AM

HNL

Brenner walked hand in hand with Eleven down the hall at a leisurely pace, keeping an eye out for any unwelcome boys and he saw Sam up ahead with a huddle of scientists and he let go of Eleven's hand, prodding her forward. Maybe it was time to teach her a lesson about loyalty.

"Go on, ask Dr. Owens for some candy," he told her kindly but she hung back, not wanting interrupt since he seemed preoccupied and engaged with the others. She glanced at Papa and he gave her a threatening stare that told her 'you better do it'.

She padded forward, reaching the group cautiously and a couple of scientists and nurses saw her, but ignored her. She tugged on Dr. Owens' lab coat. 

"Candy?" 

"What?" He seemed startled, distracted.

"Want candy." She pulled at one of his pockets, but he lightly swatted her hand away and her face crumpled a bit.

"Not right now Eleven, I'm busy."

She turned away and Brenner fought a smirk at the rejection, holding his hand out to her as she came back to him unhappily.

"Look at what I have for you." He held up a cherry flavored lollipop and gave it to her, watching her confusion as she glanced back at Owens.

"Let's go see how Will is doing, hm?" Brenner led her into the room and she froze in the doorway, clutching the candy because something didn't feel right at all and she could sense it. 

Will was awake, but he didn't smile when he saw her and he seemed... different somehow. His mom was fretting next to him and Eleven's eyes widened to see Hopper, who was standing away in a corner, talking in a low voice to a man she didn't recognize. Neither of them were wearing lab clothes.

"Will?" Eleven asked, moving forward and everyone in the room looked to her and Brenner. Hopper turned around and he gave a nod of acknowledgement to her with a wink while Bob stared, first noticing the tall doctor. 

"Oh, hello again. It's Dr. Brenner, right? And is this a patient of yours?" He smiled slightly and it was purely kind, making Eleven feel at ease even though she had no idea who he was. Papa dropped his hands down on her shoulders protectively and ignored the innocent inquiry from the man while Will's mom directed her own protectiveness over her son at him.

"Don't YOU dare get near Will!"  

"Calm down," Brenner told her in a curt tone and she seethed, keeping a hand firmly on Will. Eleven wiggled from Papa's grasp and he let go, letting her get closer and crouch down by Will's bedside.

"Wait, how do you know him? Are you sick too?" The unfamiliar man's voice asked quizzically and she looked up over at him, just as confused. 

"Sick?"

"Yeah, it's the aliens right? Or whatever has taken over his body and turned him into the host? We've been trying to figure it out and I just thought, you know, maybe - " 

"Bob." Joyce waved her arm at him, shaking her head.

"I'm sorry, I'm just curious. I don't mean to assume anything, it's just I thought you..." Bob stopped, taking in the girl's unusual appearance and becoming more puzzled and concerned. Eleven took her attention and put it back to Will, reaching for his hand.

"Will?" Her voice was soft, timid, and he stared back at her, expression hooded. She took a hold of his hand, fingers intertwining with his and suddenly his eyes rolled back and she gasped, feeling herself abruptly lurch forward, and she found herself plummeting inside his mind, which was at first pure darkness. She had the sensation of moving, mentally, and this didn't feel like the void... the blackness began bluer and rougher, textured and visceral, a familiar landscape beginning to take shape and she saw it to be the Upside Down, but not exactly like she'd ever seen it before. The walls (were they walls?) were rounded and curved, like being inside a dark tube and it encased all around her as she visually moved through it very fast in her/his mind, propelled by some unseen force. Quite abruptly, she was yanked out of the vision to open her eyes back to the room and she was faced with Will violently lunging at her and she jumped back, colliding with Papa as the boy began to yell at top of his lungs.

"NOOOO! NO! GET OUT! GET OUT OF HERE! GET OUT!"

He was screaming and spitting mad as his mom attempted to hold him back, with Hopper and the unknown man assisting her, and Eleven felt her own self being dragged by Papa back out the door before the chaotic loud scene was slammed shut in front of her. 

10:30 AM

The boys had gathered in the lobby downstairs, unaware of Eleven being out and about, and they were now even more concerned about Will out of the coma. How could he not remember two of his only friends, let alone Hopper or Bob? It made Mike especially upset and Owens wasn't helping by shooing them away, telling them it would be a good idea to leave for the day and come back tomorrow. Problem was Mike still had the bag of toys in his hand and he was determined to get it to Eleven indirectly somehow, so he told Dustin and Lucas to steer clear and wait for him outside while he went back to talk to Owens.

"Just Owens, not Brenner. If I see him, I'm running like hell and screw the toys. Hopefully this will only take a minute if Owens isn't a jerk about it."

Mike hurried off and asked two scientists where the doctor was, finally getting to him in an exam room that Will had been wheeled into and was currently being held down by four people as they prepared the MRI. Mike froze, considering rushing forward to help, but he was being crowded out and told to leave by a few nurses. He spotted Dr. Owens among the medical group and called out over the commotion.  

"Hey, Dr. Owens, can I talk to you for a second?"

The doctor raised his eyebrows, but followed him out of the room into the hall.

"Make this quick, as you can see we have our hands full here."

"Right. Okay, so I know the letter last time didn't work, so I have something else that I'd really, really appreciate if you could pass off to Eleven. You don't have to say it's from me if he doesn't ask."

Owens grimaced and sighed stressfully.

"Mike, you - you have to stop. I'm sorry, but this just isn't safe and I don't need any more hassles."

"Don't you give a shit about her?!" he spoke loudly, causing a few heads to turn their way. Owens placed a hand on his shoulder and spoke quietly.

"I do care for her, a lot more than I probably should, so don't get me wrong, but we all are in a difficult situation. It's hard to understand, I know, but she will be in more danger the more you keep butting in. Now, look, I can take this and I can't guarantee that she'll get it, but I'll try. Okay? Is that good enough?"

Mike's glare transitioned to mild dissatisfaction, but the doctor's offer was better than nothing. 

"Yeah. I guess so."

Owens thanked him and accepted the bag and then Mike left, giving Owens a chance to glance in the bag and he sighed again, seeing the assortment of small used toys. There was no way Martin would likely go for these coming from "that boy", but Owens also wasn't going to renege on his word to Mike, so he went fast to his office, tucking the bag in his desk drawer, and heading back in time to see Will undergo sedation. The poor kid had just came to consciousness and now he was snuffed out into deep sleep again. 

Will anything ever be normal for a day in this place?

2:00 PM

Eleven ended up back with Papa in her room, or rather their room, and she felt very disturbed from seeing Will and was mulling over everything when Papa slapped his hands down on his thighs and stood up briskly from his cot.

"You know, Eleven, I could use some exercise myself," he decided promptly out of the blue and she frowned. Why was he talking about exercise when Will was acting terribly strange and bad? Wasn't that more important? Why didn't Papa care?

"Come on, you'll come with me. Behave yourself."

She followed him out down winding hallways and they walked to a side door that looked suspiciously like an exit, and here was where Papa paused, glancing behind Eleven at the few guards coming to join them. He put a hand on door, steadily gazing at Eleven seriously.

"This is a privilege. That means it's a special treat that you are lucky to get today and it's only happening because I need to go outside too. Don't take advantage of it and don't follow me. This is something I - and I alone - need to do. Understand?"

She had no reaction to give but a single nod as he took her hand, feeling raw excitement bubbling up at the mere mention of outside. The real outside.

At first she was absolutely stunned when the door opened.

The fresh air was cool and crisp, a cold breath kissing her face, but more unexpected was the startling brightness of yellow sunlight that made her blink and squint. Eleven stood still in the shadow of the building, staring at the clear daylight that she had almost forgotten truly existed outside of picture books. Papa let go of her hand and she staggered back into the few guards that were there to monitor, but Papa smiled at her and assured her she was safe. When she peered around, she took note of several more suited men surrounding the perimeter, keeping watch. Brenner unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged it off, handing it to a man, leaving him down to a white undershirt before untying his shoes and slipping on white and black sneakers that were given to him by the same man.

"Stay there, Eleven," Papa commanded and then left her, jogging off down the sidewalk. She felt lured after him, but the heavy hands on her shoulders from a guard told her otherwise. So she only watched from a slight distance, wishing she could join him as he entered the sunlit parking lot and the light made his hair even more whiter and translucent, bouncing slightly with his movement. He began a trotting jog, quickly turning into a controlled run around the parking lot and then entire building and she only saw glimpses of him running past every time he came back around where she was at. He was running for a long time and Eleven eventually sat down, feeling quite bored. She ached to join him; it wasn't fair he got to exercise and she didn't. She stared down at the dull gray ground and bit her lip to keep the tears from spilling out. 

The sound of his footfalls hitting the concrete came closer and she looked up to see him slowing down and walking briskly towards her and the guards. He was breathing heavier than usual, his hair out of place, and he was sweating slightly. Eleven, on the other hand, felt very chilled and shivered.

"Papa, cold!" she spoke up, rising to her feet and wrapping her arms around herself tightly. He kind of laughed and tapped his chest.

"The cold air is good for your lungs!"

She scowled and gazed out at the sunlight casting streaks and shadows along the ground, a slight breeze rustling the browning leaves of the trees and a strange chittering noise nearby made Eleven tense, remembering the squirrel she had killed. Papa moved towards her and she found herself facing his chest, and then the inside as he spun her around and she was prodded forward by the guards, desperately glancing back at that rectangular window of light until the door thudded closed and she was bathed in the fluorescent greenish light of the Lab. She kept her eyes down at her feet, trailing behind Papa as his body calmed down and he wiped his face with his handkerchief.

"I need to get out and do that more often. Did you enjoy that fresh air as well, Eleven? I know it's been so long." He looked over his shoulder back at her unresponsive silence and she trudged sadly along, head down.

They entered her room and Papa left for a minute before coming back and he was clothed again in his buttoned shirt and shoes, his hair combed neatly back in its standard place. He smiled, taking a seat down on his cot as she huddled on hers.

"That was a new experience, wasn't it? I'm sorry you couldn't join me, but you know how dangerous it is for little ones to be out and about. I wish you were still small enough to fit in a stroller." 

"Stroller?"

"When you were younger I occasionally had you placed in a stroller to wheel you about this place. I think you enjoyed it."

She had no response to that and laid down, holding Mr. Lion and Mr. Bear close.

"I missed running like that. I used to run laps around my neighborhood when I lived in town," Brenner continued and her head snapped up, almost dropping the stuffed animals. Papa had lived somewhere else besides the Lab?

"Where?" she asked before she could stop herself, but he wasn't upset.

"Not far from here. It was a nice place, quiet and safe, away from the main road. I had a small yard and a blue colored front door and walls with white trim and every morning I'd get the paper for the crossword - that's a type of puzzle - and I had a bonsai tree I took care of. You like plants, don't you? You remember the pot of viola flowers I gave you before you made contact with the creature?"

That she remembered, but not fondly. Papa often gave her things before he put her through a test and she began to dread those days when he'd arrive with his hands behind his back. She was glad it was somewhat different now, even if she had no choice in staying or leaving, and had to use the bathroom in diapers. She wondered why he was telling her all this about him when she knew she'd never get see any of that. It almost felt... mean. 

"But all that's gone now. My life is here, with only you and I wouldn't trade it for anything."

He sounded cheerful and she was not going to break his good mood, even if she didn't understand or like it, and she certainly wasn't going to ask about Will. That would have to be saved for later. 

5:00 PM

"Papa?" 

"Hmm?" 

"Play?"

Brenner stood up, rummaging through the container of toys and dumping a few down on the floor. The shock of seeing the boy had hopefully worn off on her and he had spent the day in and out, supervising over the brain scans and staff surrounding Will, including Dr. Owens, and his decision about the boy hadn't changed. He was going to die, surely, either by the virus inside him or by the hands of scientists who attempted to rid him of his 'disease'. Owens was more optimistic, but he was seeing the connections too. A hive mind, they figured and when one was affected, all were. If his colleague had his way and they terminated more of the dimension's inhabitants and surrounding environment, the boy would be in certain peril. However, Brenner believed what was inside him must be awfully strong to survive dormant this long. It was too dangerous to have Eleven in the vicinity of it, clearly. She had to be kept separate, at least until he was ready to acclimate her (and himself for that matter) to the dimension. After all, Neil Armstrong and company didn't make it to the moon in one day and it could be a while for him and his subject too. As for the boy, if he died, he died. If he didn't and remained a vessel... well, there may have be adjustments.

"Papa?" Eleven's voice pressed, popping his thoughts, and he proceeded in emptying her toys out onto the floor.

"Here," he said, but she stayed where she was. He raised his eyebrows. 

"Don't you want to play?" 

"Want ball. Play catch."

Brenner shook his head, suppressing a scoff. Of course Sam had made an impression on her with that and he hated to duplicate that man's idea, but she was giving him an insistent, begging face.

"I never was much of a ballplayer, but I suppose we could have a little game."

He grabbed up a softball and walked out into the hall with her, taking position several feet away from her. He threw it fast and slightly forceful, and her fingers fumbled to catch it, but she missed as it hit the floor several feet off mark.

"Bad catch, Eleven. Try again," Papa called out and she felt her body get hot in anger and embarrassment as she threw it back.

As the ball catching game progressed, it wasn't hard to see that he was nothing like Dr. Owens and every throw had aggression behind it, force that would throw her off. She backed away further to lessen the impact of when she actually caught the ball and it stung her palms, but one such throw had her dodging what would have been a straight hit to the face and she began to figure he could be doing this on purpose. Angry, she heaved and hurtled the ball back and he caught it, stopping for a second.

"Are you having fun?"

She wished she could say no, but that would have consequences. He didn't merit an answer anyway because then the ball came at great speed towards her, but she halted it in place midair it halfway and then telekinetically projected it back to Papa, where it bounced hard into his chest. He winced and clutched the ball, taken aback, but impressed.

"Good," he praised, but she felt anything but pleased. Papa just wanted her to do tests; everything was a test and he never truly wanted to play with her like Owens had seemed to. Dejected, she refused to catch anymore and walked back to her room, ignoring Papa's voice. She curled up on her cot and nuzzled into the bear, content to stay here forever if she was going to be stuck indefinitely inside these walls. Papa sat down next to her legs, placing a hand on her knees.

"Why are you so grumpy? You didn't like the game?"

That was an understatement. He waited, but she shunned him and he sighed, tossing the ball back into the bin.

"Eleven, listen to me for a minute. We need to talk."

Her head nudged upward and he moved to kneel down in front of her, placing a hand on her sheets, speaking softly.

"You like Dr. Owens, don't you? You like how nice he usually is to you?" 

She gave a tiny nod. 

"I know you do, but I want to tell you that when he's nice, he's only being like that to make you like him. I don't think he really cares about you all that much."

That tiny nod turned into a predictable tiny frown. 

"But the good news is that I do. I care, Eleven."

He tapped her nose affectionately and stood up, bending down and scooping her up and she struggled as he carried her over to his cot, depositing her down along with himself and he stretched out, pulling her to his side. 

"Papa..." she almost groaned, prying away, however he held firmly and whispered into her ear. 

"You'll get used it and see that most people in life aren't worth your time. You're lucky to have me as your father, so I can tell you all this." 

"Father?"

"That means Papa," he assured her and she closed her eyes, feeling suddenly sleepy and sick of interacting with him.

"Do you want a nap?" he asked quietly, but she was too despondent to answer, so he left to turn off the lights and by the time he came back to lie with her, Eleven was out. 

She next found herself in the middle of dreaming about of her and Papa, but she wasn't sure if it was real or not because it was so vivid. She was standing in a vast field the color of rich gold and she saw the blue sky overhead enveloping them and she felt Papa begin to spin her around and around, holding tightly onto her hands and she smiled broadly, but she was also feeling tears streaming down her cheeks. How could she be so happy yet so sad? As he spun her and she felt dizzy, the sky darkened to a deep blue, then to ominous gray and black tones before a flash of red and white lightening struck down all around them. Papa's hands slipped from hers and he disappeared into a cloud of smoke, leaving her all alone in the field, which was turning rotting brown by the second and she reached for a strand of grass, but it blackened at her fingertips and she recoiled away, glancing up and what she saw made her heart race three times as fast.

A looming lone black figure, spider-like, with plunging black tendrils that went down to the horizon in the distance. It seemed to look at her and it enlarged, coming closer until she felt the ground drop from under her feet swiftly and she screamed herself to awake, failing madly and shrieking. She hit a body next to her in the dark and felt hands grappling for her and she instinctively screamed again, imagining it to be the black monster tendrils snatching her.

"ELEVEN! ELEVEN! Eleven, stop, what's the matter?!" Papa's voice yelled close next to her and she felt herself falling off the cot before she then heard stumbling and the bright harshness, but also great relief, of light hit her senses. Hyperventilating, she crouched on the floor, clutching her head and she saw Mr. Teddy Bear was face down on the ground along with a lopsided Mr. Lion. Papa staggered towards her and pulled her up back onto the cot, asking her questions she was too frightened to comprehend right now.

"What is it? What did you see? Where were you? Tell me!"

She reached up to wipe her nose reflexively, but it was dry and Papa frowned, instantly becoming apathetic.

"A bad dream?" he asked dryly and began to rearrange the twisted sheets, smoothing out the creases and she felt confused why he wasn't comforting her.

"Monster, it was monster in field and sky and it c-came for me," she choked out with difficulty. 

"Another monster? We've been over this and you know there's nothing here." 

"It... different."

"Different? That's absurd. A monster is a monster."

She had a sudden urge to go to Dr. Owens. He would understand and he could get to Will, who Eleven thought must be connected somehow with this because his behavior earlier was frighteningly unlike him. Had the monster got him? Leaping up, she ran to the door, but Papa ambushed her from behind and she cried out, wrestling with him. 

"Where do you think you're going?!" he angrily exclaimed in a dangerous voice. 

"No! No! Want Dr. Owens, want Will!"

Brenner tightened his constricting grip on her and she cried out in pain.

"What did I tell you about Dr. Owens? He doesn't care about you and neither does that boy, so don't go anywhere!"

"No! Need them now!" 

"Eleven, let this go! They can't help you!"

"LET ME GO!" she screamed and flailed, but he was incredibly strong compared to her and she was close to using her powers, but she was afraid of what he would do to her as punishment afterwards. Just as she was ready to burst, he eased off and ambled backwards while she fell to the floor in despair, sobbing. Why wouldn't Papa ever see her side of anything?

"I hate you!" she cried over and over while he straightened up, lying down on the cot and attempting to ignore her, but that was challenging in this room.

"I'm sorry you do, but go back to sleep. There won't be any more bad dreams of monsters, I promise."

She didn't believe him and she was desperate to leave, but she was scared to be sedated again.

After what like ages, she heard Papa's deep breathing and felt astounded that he was asleep. Maybe she could leave after all. Gently pulling open the door, she winced, almost expecting alarms, but it was blissfully quiet and she saw the hall was empty. Quickly, Eleven hurried off and up a floor until she saw a guard. He tensed, grabbing for his radio and a hand on his holster, but she thought fast and told him she felt sick and pleaded for a nurse. He yanked her off down the hallway and into an empty exam room, locking the door behind him. She waited on proverbial pins and needles until a middle aged female nurse came in, stern faced and no-nonsense.

"Why isn't Dr. Brenner with you?" she demanded and Eleven shook her head, refusing to answer. The nurse made tsk-tsk noise, adjusting the stethoscope around her neck and starting to exam her, but Eleven stopped her, hand snatching the stethoscope and pulling it towards her threateningly. The woman froze.

"Where is Dr. Owens?" Eleven demanded and then she let go and the nurse, startled, retreated and stared at her cautiously.

"He's... not here right now. He went home at seven o'clock," she replied rather nervously and Eleven cocked her head. He didn't live here like Papa? 

"Home?"

"Yes, he went home. He'll be here tomorrow at six o'clock as usual. Now, are you feeling ill or not? Will you let me take a look?" the nurse asked, becoming brisk and Eleven shook her head, now disappointed and out of ideas. She tried to think of what time she'd fallen asleep and connect that to seven o'clock when he had apparently left, but she didn't know when. She hadn't had dinner, so she had certainly missed that time. 

"Not sick. I want Dr. Owens." 

"If you want a doctor, honey, that usually means you're sick or something's wrong."

"Not sick!" Eleven insisted angrily and the woman gave her an unforgiving, clinical glance. 

"Well, I'm going to check you over and you shouldn't be out of bed anyway. Dr. Brenner will be hearing about this. Now stay still."

Eleven scowled, extremely displeased, and let the nurse examine her and determine she was fine before taking her back downstairs to her room and where Papa was waiting, now awake. He was very unhappy with her and she went straight to her cot to lie down, pulling the pillow over her head, trying not to overhear his quiet conversation with the nurse.

"She kept asking for Sam Owens."

"She's upset from a nightmare and she's not thinking clearly. I'll give her a sedative dose."

"Forgive me doctor, but I'd advise against that. She's been overdosed too much from the last week and her system needs a break." 

"She won't cooperate otherwise." 

"Leave her be. She'll get tired eventually." 

The door shut loudly and she heard Papa's footsteps come close before stopping. 

"Eleven, I'm sorry you are so upset. I want to help you." 

"Go away," she murmured and she heard him on his cot sometime later.  Unbeknownst to him, she stayed awake all night, unable to dissolve the nightmare from her mind.  

Chapter Text

October 29, 1984 9:00 AM

HAWKINS NATIONAL LABORATORY, HAWKINS INDIANA 

As soon as breakfast (two cut up Homestyle Eggos and milk) was over and Eleven was taken to the bathroom to get cleaned up from her night sweats and have her teeth brushed by a nurse, she begged Papa to let her see Dr. Owens so she could tell him about what she saw last night, but he was flat out refusing, claiming and insisting it was just a false nightmare that couldn't harm her. Angry, she scooted into a corner of their room and faced the wall, stoutly shunning him.

"What is this, the silent treatment?" Brenner asked in annoyance and of course she didn't reply. Fed up with her attitude, he left and slammed the door, striding down the hallway to the lower levels of the lab. At least his creatures, as dangerous as they were, would pay more attention to him than Eleven was doing at the moment.

The doors clunked open and he went through, nodding grimly at the guards and entering the room of the main testing site. The scientists all straightened up as soon as they saw him and he caught nervousness in a few faces. He stopped, hands on his hips, glancing around at everyone and then to the largest cage, which was empty except for a thick layer of bloody sludge and venison remaining at the bottom.

"Where are they?" Brenner questioned in a way that required an answer immediately. A man with round glasses stepped forward anxiously. 

"Um, sir, we had to terminate the lot - "

"And why would you do that?"

The man cleared his throat longer than necessary and stared down at the floor, flustered.

"Answer me!" Brenner snapped sharply and the room was pin-drop quiet until the man looked back up and sputtered out an explanation.

"Doc-doctor Owens gave the orders to after he oversaw the latest statistics and deemed the specimens to be too great a risk."

Brenner walked slowly over to the empty cage, running his fingers across the bars. 

"How did you do it?" he asked calmly and there was an uneasy beat before the answer. 

"Multiple ways, sir. Fire, electroshock, bullets. The fire was the most effective, but they went down fighting. W-We lost two men." The man stared solemnly down to the ground and when he glanced up, Brenner was gone.

Furious and clenching his fists, Brenner made a beeline to Sam's office and he wished he could hit that idiot in the face for overriding and giving the green light to destroy more vital organisms without his permission. He banged open the door forcefully and Owens dropped the book he was holding, swearing under his breath.

"How dare you do this," Brenner seethed and continued before the other man could get a word in.

"I was keeping those for research and you ruined everything, all without my consent! Who do you think is in charge here?!"

"Will you calm down, for Christ's sake, those posed a huge security risk, not to mention to your own daughter!" Owens exclaimed angrily and Brenner strode up close to him, staring down his nose. 

"Stop interfering with everything I own."

"Fine, I won't do it again if that makes you pleased, but if one of those things gets loose like the last one and eats Eleven for dinner, I hope you learn your lesson. We can't let them grow to full maturity and out of control. I initially thought we were supposed to contain the spread, harvest the juveniles for study, then release them back where they came from, hopefully avoiding any incidents. That's what I signed up for anyway, but like everything else you do, you always take it too far!"

Brenner shook his head, denial evident, and refusing to accept the facts.

"Eleven is too strong and she has an advantage against them. She'd never be made into a meal by one of them."

"Maybe not one, but a whole pack? I've seen what they do to a deer carcass in sixty seconds... they're vicious, just vicious. The poor girl wouldn't stand a chance no matter how powerful she is."

Brenner didn't respond to this, turning his head away and closing his eyes as he walked out, slamming yet another door hard behind him.

It was one of those days. 

3:30 PM

HAWKINS MIDDLE SCHOOL

Dustin and Lucas peered around the side of the building, watching the new red haired girl with the skateboard, Mike lagging behind them unenthusiastically. His friends were so easily distracted... Didn't they realize there were way bigger problems than some standoffish new girl?

"Are you guys done oogling at her yet so we can go?" he complained, rolling his eyes as they ignored him.

"Wait, she's writing something!" Dustin hissed, ducking back and pressing his back against the wall and then peeking out very cautiously to see the girl drop a rolled up ball of notebook paper into a trash bin and leave. They ran over to it and Dustin and Lucas dove in like a couple of raccoons and began rummaging around like their lives depended on it. Mike groaned, bending over and trying to help look, but Dustin already snagged and uncrumpled it. He frowned as they crowded around to read:

HEY STALKERS!

I see you

Stop Spying on me

YOU CREEPS!

"She noticed us!" Lucas exclaimed excitedly and Dustin swore, glancing around but the girl was nowhere in sight. Mike sighed, tugging their backpack straps roughly and spinning them both around away from the trash.

"Guys! Don't you think we should be worrying about Will instead some random girl who thinks we're creeps?" Mike told them angrily and his friends looked guilty, Dustin shuffling his feet while Lucas tucked the note in his pocket.

"She's not just some random girl. She skateboards, she beats us at Dig Dug, and her name is Max! Yeah, of course we care about Will, but what can we do? He doesn't remember us and besides, the doctors are working to figure it out," Lucas pointed out and Mike shook his head. 

"The doctors aren't helping. Owens isn't really helping. We have to do something."

"Mike, the last time we did something - the last time YOU did something - our lives were at stake and it was a complete fail. How many rescue attempts can we do before everyone ends up getting hurt? El needs to kick Brenner's ass honestly and I don't know about Will. Maybe his memory will come back over time and he'll recover," Dustin told him with an air of exasperation.

"I can't believe you guys," Mike scoffed, turning away. 

"Mike, c'mon," Lucas groaned as he began to walk towards the bike racks and they followed after him. 

"What about Halloween? You're still coming with us trick or treating, right?"

"I don't care about the stupid holiday! It's not the same without Will!" Mike almost shouted, yanking on his bike handlebars.

"But we are going as Ghostbusters and if you back out, then there'll only be two of us and that'll look really weird."

"Who cares? I'll see you guys around," Mike muttered, hopping on his bike and pedaling off and his friends called after him to no avail. Dustin looked at Lucas.

"He'll change his mind tomorrow when he realizes all the candy he's going to miss out on and no one says that we can't bring Will some of our loot afterwards."

"Trick or treat at Hawkins Lab? Shit, that's terrifying." 

Dustin's eyes became saucers as he stared past Lucas, pointing.

"Hey, ten o'clock - "

Lucas spun around and ran over without thinking, Dustin scrambling after him, fumbling with his backpack. The girl - Maxine, or rather Max - who they'd been fixated on all day whipped around, her gaze as fiery as her hair and a fierce frown adorned her features.

"What, it isn't enough to spy on me from afar by a trash can? Now you're gonna come straight to my face?" she snapped and Dustin stammered before Lucas shot out a very fast question.

"Doyouwanttocometrickortreatingwithus?"

She shook her head from side to side, her long ginger hair lightly slapping her face. 

"What?" 

Lucas took a huge gulp of air and then spoke more normally. 

"On Halloween. Wednesday night. Do you want to come trick or treating with us?"

Max stared at them for a full ten seconds and Lucas started to backpedal, but then she answered his offer with a counter question.

"And what would I be going as, assuming that I'd be stupid enough to play dress up with you freaks?" 

"Uh... we're going as Ghostbusters, but girls can't go as that..." 

"Why not?" she demanded, her eyes flashing dangerously, and Dustin and Lucas stammered awkwardly. 

"B-Because... you-you're a girl?" Lucas said, instantly regretting this as she flung away from them and stormed off down the sidewalk, gripping her skateboard in her hands. 

"We'll be at Loch Nora neighborhood if you wanna come! Lots of king size candy bars are given out there!" Dustin called after her, but she didn't look back.

"At least Mike wasn't here to see that epic failure," Lucas commented feebly and both of them quickly headed back for their bikes. 

4:00 PM

HNL

Joyce sat up upon hearing fast footsteps outside the room and she tensed instinctively as the door swung wide open, but she needn't have worried: it was her son Jonathan with Nancy, returned to Hawkins. 

"Mom!" He ran forward and they embraced tightly, Joyce even giving Nancy a brief hug, relieved that both of them were alright. 

"Jonathan, what happened? Where have you been? Hopper said you guys were in Illinois, but it was all secret..."

"Yeah, it is actually and I'm sorry we weren't back sooner, but the car broke down halfway back and we had to get it repaired while we stayed in this shitty motel, but anyway... What's more important is how is Will?" Jonathan glanced over to his sleeping brother in concern and Joyce sighed heavily.

"That's kind of a long story. He's sedated for the time being... Yesterday was crazy, um, maybe let's sit down?" She went and pulled out some chairs and they all sat gathered in front of the hospital bed as Joyce proceeded to give them a summary of the last several day's events and by the time she got to the end, Jonathan was as wound in worry as a coiled rope and Nancy was clutching his hand. 

"But Mom, possession - that isn't real, that can't happen," he expressed anxiously and Joyce lifted up her hands in who knows?

"We can't rule it out. If a parallel dimension and monsters are real, why can't possession be? Will hasn't been normal ever since he got out of that place and it's just become worse and worse, like an infection. Bob jokes it's aliens, but I know it has to be this," Joyce reached for the infamous drawing while Nancy offered a logical explanation. 

"Maybe he's just suffering temporary amnesia or had a personality change," she suggested, anything but a horror movie scenario, and Joyce shook her head. 

"That's what Owens said and that the brain scans are showing abnormalities like he's got tumors, but it can't be just that!" Her voice jumped up and she waved the drawing in front of their faces. 

"What is that?" They both asked, frowning, and Joyce explained the theories and background behind it. 

"But that looks nothing like the monster we dealt with last year," Nancy said.

"No, it doesn't because it's not one of those. It's different and I'm betting it's way worse because it can't or doesn't attack physically, it attacks and goes to the mind to infect and take over a body which happens to be Will." 

Jonathan rubbed his face while Nancy just stared at the drawing. 

"This is crazy," he muttered and Joyce set it down on the table. 

"Will tried to warn us with this drawing before it took him. What if it makes him do its bidding? I think we're all in danger now and he's the first victim of it. What if we all are next?" 

"Mom, can we not talk about this anymore?!" Jonathan abruptly said loudly and she froze. A very uncomfortable lapse of silence held them for a couple minutes until Joyce spoke cautiously, diverting the subject.  

"So... you two have been busy?" 

For some reason, Jonathan blushed slightly at this and cast a quick look to Nancy, but he got over himself and nodded, enthusiasm sparking against his negative emotions over Will's condition.

"Yeah, it's going to help, at least we hope because we're counting on it and I can't tell you much here, it's too risky, but we met up with a guy and he's helped us to mail out something to the Chicago Sun-Times newspaper."

"It could turn into a bigger story once we get the ball rolling and one that no one can ignore, at least that's what we're going for. It's probably not going to be like New York Times worthy because we had to water it down because no one will believe the real truth, but it will cause local heads to turn," Nancy added earnestly and Joyce was confused, but she'd take any crumb of hope at this point.

"It'll help Barb's parents and Will and maybe even her," Jonathan dropped his voice to a whisper and Joyce frowned, knowing he meant Eleven, but she was not seeing their plan clearly. 

"But - what? I-I don't...?" 

"Trust us. The public will get to read about what has happened and people who can take action will have no choice but to! We'll finally be free of at least some of this shit," Jonathan exclaimed, but Joyce couldn't hide her doubt. 

"That's great sweetie, but these people - Dr. Brenner - aren't taken down easily. Hopper showed me the lawsuits from that mother of Eleven's, the lawyers, they couldn't - "

"That's because they didn't have soild proof. We do, we have a bit. It's not quite about her, but it is about this place," Jonathan whispered empathically and Nancy agreed.

"It'll take a week or two to get sent and processed through the right channels, but nobody can ignore it. We will get justice for what this place has done and they'll have to acknowledge what's happened to this town, to Barb..." Nancy trailed off and there was another lapse of silence as Joyce looked to Will, her mood dictated by how he was doing and it was difficult to share in this possibly good news. Of course she wanted the laboratory and Dr. Brenner to pay for the crimes he's committed, but Will was at the crux of care here and she feared what would happen if the other agencies from the federal government and the military got involved and dismantled everything. She didn't want Will pushed further into the hot spotlight of the news... she wanted him to go back to normal and have some peace for once. Jonathan must have read her emotions because he leaned forward and softly spoke. 

"Mom, it's gonna be okay somehow and we'll be safe again. You and him won't have to stay here forever." 

"I saw her," Joyce said suddenly and Nancy frowned while Jonathan was befuddled. 

"Mom, what are you talking about?" 

"Who?" 

"Eleven. She's been having trouble with Brenner and Mike, who was hurt when he tried to get to her and help her escape." 

Nancy gasped, then flushed in anger and stood up. 

"Is Mike safe? Where is Brenner?" she demanded and Joyce assured her that her brother was okay now and likely at home, and Brenner was somewhere in the building, but she hadn't seen him since yesterday when Will was awake. 

"I should get home, I called Mom from the motel and she's absolutely pissed about us being gone for so long without much notice and I'll talk to Mike and make sure he's doing alright. I'm sorry, Ms. Byers, I'll come back tomorrow," Nancy promised, getting up to go to the door.  

"I'll go with her, drive her home," Jonathan quickly added and gave his mom another hug before following Nancy. She paused in the doorway, looking back at Joyce.

"Do you need anything? It seems terribly boring to be stuck here all day and night without anything to do. Can we bring you food, books...?" 

"No, no, it's fine," Joyce replied humbly, shrugging off the suggestion. 

"Mom, I'll bring you another pack of Camels and some stuff from home, okay? You don't need to be so self sacrificing," Jonathan told her and she nodded, putting the chairs back where they had been. 

"Okay? We'll see you tomorrow." Jonathan and Nancy disappeared out from the doorway and she heard the door close softly and then she was alone with Will once more in a wake of unnerving silence and uncertainty.  

5:00 PM

WHEELER HOUSE

Nancy sighed, dropping her purse down on her bed and decompressing after Mom's angry, lengthy lecture and now she was grounded indefinitely to the town of Hawkins and absolutely no parties. Well, that trip out of town was still worth it and she had found herself closer to Jonathan than she had ever dreamed of being with him... and no mother needed to know the details of that. But if only Mom knew that her daughter was singlehandedly (with Jonathan) trying to save people and shut down a government funded laboratory that did a matter of unethical experimention, then maybe she'd be more understanding and proud. It was hard keeping secrets... but there was someone other than the Byers that she could confide in and she needed to make sure was doing okay, so Nancy hurried down to the basement, knocking lightly on the wall as she descended the creaky steps and heard Mike's muffled voice. He came into view in the form of being curled up under his blanket fort and Nancy's eyes widened in concern. 

"Hey Mike? It's me, I know I've been gone for awhile, but I'm here to stay now." She walked over and crouched down, getting into a seated position and lifting up one of the overhanging blankets gently to see him staring sadly at the floor. 

"What's going on? Are you hurt?"

He didn't reply and continued his gazing at the floor, really concerning her now. 

"Mike! Talk to me, what's wrong? I swear if this is some kind of act, I'm going to - "

"Hey," Mike mumbled, finally glancing up at her and she breathed a sigh of relief.

"Hey. Don't scare me like that, it's not funny. Aren't you glad I'm back? Did you miss me at all?" 

"Not really. I forgot you were even gone," Mike answered and Nancy flicked him playfully on the head. 

"You little twit," she laughed and he sat up smiling somewhat. 

"No, I'm glad you're okay. Where were you anyway?"

"In Illinois but I can't give specifics until it comes out publically. Just think of it as like a super spy mission and we're helping people Hawkins Lab has hurt and endangered, like Will and El, and even indirectly killed in Barb's case," she told him, but he abruptly put a finger to his lips and got up, moving her away towards the stairs.

"Mike, what...?" 

"It's not safe in the basement, I'm pretty sure I'm still bugged. We can't talk here, you could get in trouble," he urgently whispered and she gasped softly. 

"They planted listening devices in here?" 

"Yeah, a while ago. I probably should have told you, but we've been..." 

"Not as close. I know," Nancy sighed and they both took seats on the stairs, quiet for a minute. 

"How have you been holding up?" Nancy asked and Mike shrugged.

"I'm hanging I guess. Dustin and Lucas are trying to act like everything is normal, even with Will's condition and they're chasing after this new girl and planning for Halloween, but we all know it's not. Life just kinda feels like a joke at this point, like you just pretend everything's fine but the reality is we're all one step away from disaster. I can't stand pretending anymore." 

Nancy just listened, letting him open up.

"I wish we'd taken El and ran out of town last year and just get the hell out, got Will out somehow, and then none of this would have ever happened. We would have to live somewhere else, but we'd get used to it as long as they're safe."

"It's never as simple as you want it to be. These people that caused all this need to be brought to light and we need justice. Running away won't solve problems," Nancy disagreed and Mike picked at his shoelaces.

"Yeah."

"So your other friends are doing well?" Nancy asked softly and Mike snorted.

"They're better than me. Dustin's been hanging out with Steve of all people lately and both him and Lucas are fascinated with the new girl at school who comes from California and she's got this older brother who's like a total jerk." 

Nancy barely heard anything after the mention of Steve and she pitched forward in surprise. 

"Dustin has been hanging out with Steve?" she asked, floored, but Mike was nonchalant.

"Yeah, Steve must be really desperate to pick Dustin. They're not even the same age, it's kinda weird." 

"You mean they're now friends, right?" Nancy asked cautiously, praying he was sort of joking. 

"I guess, what else?"

"Oh, okay." She could handle that. Besides, she wasn't with Steve anymore and she shouldn't care about what he was doing or who he was hanging out with, it didn't matter. She was with Jonathan and she loved him. Steve wasn't important to her anymore and thinking of them together was only a painful reminder of Barb and what they had done that night. He was only an ex-boyfriend to her now. Right?

"Well, I'm getting hungry. I hope Mom has finished with cooking dinner," Mike suddenly declared, getting up and their conversation was decidedly over, but Nancy stayed right where she was, unable to move on in a number of ways.  

6:00 PM

HNL

Papa had been gone for hours, practically all day, and Eleven was utterly bored and upset, haunted by the monster vision from her dream and not knowing where or why Papa had left her. Perhaps he was shunning her too like she had done to him. When she finally got up the nerve to go out and try to investigate, it dawned on her that this could be an opportunity to find Dr. Owens as long as Papa was somewhere else, maybe even outside doing his running?

She pried the door open slowly and then snuck out into the hallway, not getting very far unfortunately due to a young female nurse stopping her halfway down and trying to steer her back to her room.

"No, I want Dr. Owens!" she cried out and the nurse paused.

"Why is that?" she asked, checking the girl over and Eleven bravely struggled for words, stringing short sentences together.

"I... I need him. I need to tell him about monster, in nightmare last night. Papa won't listen. Need Dr. Owens. Please."

The nurse stared at her for a while, maybe with pity, and then she turned and guided Eleven upstairs until they came to an office door. The nurse knocked once and then pushed it open, sticking her head in. 

"Sam, it's for you."

She gently put a hand on the girl's back, moving her forward into the room and Eleven walked inside and Owens stood up from his desk, surprised, but gave her a slight grin. 

"Did you miss me already?"

"Nightmare."

His smile faded and concern crossed over his face and he went to close the door behind her and pull out a chair next to his rolling office one, which she sat down in next to him. He absently shuffled through paperwork and clicked a pen casually before clearing his throat softly and glancing at her. 

"So you had a nightmare? What about?"

"Papa... won't listen." 

"Why does that not surprise me?" Owens muttered under his breath, putting the pen and papers down to face her with all his attention. 

"Well, I am, I'll listen. I'll all ears, so please tell me about it."

"Papa and me were in... grass. No cows. Sky blue, Papa playing with me. Then black and red, light and shape in sky." 

"A shape in the sky? What kind of shape? A triangle, square, rectangle...?" He lifted a smile in weak amusement, but Eleven shook her head hard. 

"No."

She made a motion with her hands, attempting to air sculpt the monster's outline and suddenly Owens understood. 

"A form in the sky. What did it look like?" 

"Big. Black... spider." 

Owens froze and swallowed at the realization. 

"Wait here," he told her and quickly left the office, hurrying back in a minute later with a sheet of paper flapping in his hands. He dropped it down on the desk, stabbing a finger at the center. 

"Will drew this before the coma and I'm guessing it might look familiar to you?"

Eleven jolted forward, her heart thudding and she stared at the drawing with its black mass of scribbles and looming spidery monster in the midst of it. She looked up at Owens with fear.

"It's real, isn't it?" he asked in a low voice and she nodded.

"What else happened in the nightmare or was that it?" 

"It... came for me. Bad. It want hurt me. But I woke up," she murmured and he sat down heavily in his chair and sighed, rubbing his eyes and was quiet for a long time, thinking. She started to get up to leave politely before he too sat up, remembering. 

"Oh - Eleven, I have something for you, but don't tell your Papa about this, okay?" 

He pulled out his desk drawer and removed the crumpled up brown paper bag of Mike's toys and handed it to her. She curiously opened it, eyes widening at the sight.

"Mike stopped by yesterday and asked me to give you that. Do you want to play with them for a while in here?"

She felt a softball-size lump in her throat and she nodded, eyes wet as she pulled out a ruddy gray-green dinosaur.

Mike still cares.

She sat down on the floor and played with the assortment of toys (mostly figurines of animals and action figures, plus a Rubix Cube) while Owens kept the door locked to the outside and was working at his desk. She fiddled with the dinosaur, which she remembered from Mike's basement and how it could make a roaring noise if you pressed the button on its side, running a hand over the dull teeth in the wide mid-roar mouth and her finger caught something and she paused, wiggling her index in its jaws. The tiniest piece of folded paper was lodged inside and she swallowed nervously, glancing up to Owens who was preoccupied with paperwork and wasn't noticing her. She carefully pulled the piece out and started to unfold it, seeing small handwriting, but then decided against doing that here. She still didn't entirely trust Owens and knew he could tell Papa if this was what she thought it was, so she fumbled for a place to hide it, but she didn't have pockets. But maybe... It was strange, but she unsnapped her one-piece bodysuit after seeing Papa do it countless times and tucked the piece in with her diaper, cringing at the stupid crinkling, then quickly closing the fabric back up and the soft pops of the metal snaps went in place. She fiddled with it, hoping it would stay, and heard the creak of the office chair as Owens moved over to look at her, noticing her touching her diaper area and he frowned, awkward.

"Uh, should I get someone for you so you can get changed?" 

She shook her head innocently, picking the dinosaur back up.  

"You didn't go? You sure?" 

"Yes. No pee, no poop," she told him earnestly and he didn't seem to quite believe her, but he also was having difficulty with this tactfulness of this conversation, so he just nodded, glancing down. 

"Okay, well, uh, that's good. Let me know if you go and need changing."

She continued playing with the toys as normally as possible, but her heart was chugging fast and her mind leaping to conclusions about what Mike could have written to her. After some time, eventually Owens left his desk and came to kneel down beside her, his face very serious and at first she feared he had figured out what she had done.

"Eleven, I hate to ask this of you, but do you think you could... contact what you saw in your nightmare vision and what is in Will's drawing?" 

She stared at him, startled. 

"Not if it makes you too uncomfortable," he quickly added and she set down the dinosaur, shoving it off to the side. 

"Okay."

His eyebrows raised at this and he was taken aback at her fast agreement.

"Okay? You think you can do it?" 

"Yes. For Will."

He watched her expression and found it both incredible and disturbing how easily she changed from a child playing on the floor with toys to test subject, obedient soldier, and the unquestioning loyalty to a boy she barely knew.

"Alright, well, we'll be getting something set up for you soon. Right now you better get back to your room because I have a feeling someone's going to be looking for you."

She stood up woodenly and gave him back the toys and he promised he'd keep them safe in his office until she could come back to play with them again. Not that she cared all that much... she had the real prize hidden with her.

"Dr. Owens?" she asked as a thought came to her from last night. 

"Yes?" 

"Home?" 

He stared at her, uncertain.  

"Home? What you mean?"

"You went home. No Lab. Home. Nurse told me." 

He deliberated a response for a minute, piecing her meaning together and reading her expression carefully. 

"Yesterday I went home, that's right. You didn't know I have a home?" 

She shook her head slightly and he gave her a sympathetic glance. 

"Want... home." 

"Someday you will have a home outside this place, I hope. I wish I could show you a home, a real home," he told her meaningfully and she blinked, emotional all of a sudden because she was reminded of the home she wanted to be at.  

"Mike... home. I want." 

"I bet you do and I'm sure he does too. You know, that kid likes you a lot and he's not giving up on you. That's admirable." 

She felt the note burning a hole in her clothing and she turned away, opening the door.

"Eleven?" 

She glanced back quickly, hand on the door knob as Owens smiled at her. 

"Do you want me to give a message to him? Is there anything you'd like me to pass along?" 

Her heart stopped for a second and she wasn't sure at first because she was uncertain about the paper note and what it said, but she did want Mike desperately and she tried to convey this into words. 

"Care. I care... about him. I want him. I miss him."

Owens nodded, giving her hope. 

"I'll do that, I'll make sure he hears that." 

"Okay. Thank you."

"Anytime, kiddo. Now go before either of us get in trouble," he told her, indicating to the door. She left his office and hurried down the halls with the accompaniment of another nurse, feeling worried that Papa would be more angry. When she reached her room, she found him waiting on his cot and he jumped up, face taut and she braced herself.

"Where have you been?! It's been almost an hour since I came back here and was told by a nurse that you were getting a checkup exam. Is that true? Don't lie to me, Eleven. If you lie, I'll spank the truth right out of you."

Her mouth trembled and she felt tears threatening to flood her. She wished Papa would get along with Dr. Owens, so she wouldn't feel so bad and guilty about choosing one over the other and making her scared to even mention him. But she couldn't keep secrets and lies like Papa did, least of all about this, and especially not if she would be spanked for lying. Her bodysuit felt even more tight against her skin and she shifted uncomfortably, aware of what was hidden underneath with her diaper.

"I with... Dr. Owens. Nightmare."

Papa sighed and held out his hand, which she took reluctantly and timidly, and went to sit down on his cot with her almost on his lap. He rubbed her head with his large all encompassing hands and went down her cheeks, wiping off a single tear with his thumb.

"Dr. Owens can't help you and you are overracting about this dream you had. Overreacting means you are making this a bigger issue then it is and being more frightened than you should be. There's nothing to worry about as long as you are with me," he told her seriously and softly, but she shook her head.

"No. He showed me drawing from Will. Spider monster same I saw in nightmare. He... wants me to see. See monster, in here." She tapped her forehead like Papa had done often before tests. He frowned, letting go of clutching her hand and physically putting distance between them as he leaned back.

"He wants you to find this so-called monster from your nightmare that is similar to the drawing of the boy's?" Brenner summarized, his tone aggravated and she just nodded, unhappy that Owens was probably going to get in trouble because she told.

"I'll speak to him. How about you get some rest?" 

"No tired." This wasn't quite true, for she had hardly slept a wink last night from fright and worry, but he wouldn't want to hear that. Papa checked his watch, standing up.

"Well, you can relax in here while I go talk with him." 

"I want outside."

"Not today. Tomorrow, maybe."

"Okay."

He left then and she waited in case he changed his mind or came back for some reason, but it was thankfully just her alone, giving her another opportunity and she seized it, quickly unsnapping her clothing and feeling around the outside of her diaper for the tiny paper. She plucked it up and and began to unfold it carefully, her heart pounding again. Very small handwriting - she had to squint and strain to read it - greeted her and she tried to comprehend most of the words, immediately telling it was from Mike before she even saw his name at the end. 

Hey El,

I hope it's only you reading this. I'm sorry for running & I need you to know I really do want to help you (so do D, L, and H) and I'm working on a plan. I care a lot about you and I really miss you. Don't lose hope. Will is on floor #4 if you don't know. PS. I hope you like Rory.

- Mike

It was short and a little confusing to her (it took her some time to figure out what the single letters that also wanted to help stood for - Dustin, Lucas, and Hopper), but she felt happy that he wasn't giving up, wanted to help, cared and missed her so much. It also confirmed Papa had lied to her about the letter from him and that made her mad. She certainly didn't want Papa getting ahold of this note, so she hid it under her cot mattress after reading it over a few more times and when Brenner came back a while later, she acted completely glad to see him, although his attitude wasn't mutual. 

"Papa!"

"Hmph," he grunted and sat down, tugging at his black tie and scowling up a storm. She crawled over and pulled at his gray pant leg and he twitched.

"Eleven, stop it."

"Papa, want play," she told him, crawling away to where the toys were kept. He stood up and came over, bringing the container down and pouring out several blocks and her rattle.

"Enjoy it while you can. Tomorrow's a big day," he told her ominously and she felt dread with flashbacks, her good mood deteriorating. She absentmindedly scratched at the ID bracelet around her wrist and placed another block on top of another as usual while Papa sat down next to her, watching.

"Is it bothering you?" he asked, gently tapping her arm with the bracelet and she kept quiet because that kind of question was never the type she'd be able to provide an answer he'd like. 

"Well, is it?" he softly demanded and she decided it would be best to lie in this case. 

"No, Papa."

"Good. Now, ten more minutes of play, then it's dinnertime." He got up to his feet and she blinked. Was it dinnertime already? What time was it? Had she been playing that long? Her memory was sluggish and the days were melding, although yesterday had been memorable with Will and the nightmare, but her concept of exact hours and days was still fuzzy, however, she realized she had forgone dinner last night. No wonder she felt hungry and bored... she pushed the blocks down, throwing one against the wall in frustration.

"That's enough, Eleven," Papa scolded above her and she glared up at him.

"Be a good girl."

She wished she could play with the ball, but it was no fun playing catch by herself and she wasn't willing to play with Papa again because he hadn't been very fun to play with. Finally he told her the ten minutes were up and she took position on her cot, waiting for him to tie the bib on her and spoon-feed her, but all he did was plop the tray of food down in front of her on her lap and hand her a small child's spoon and fork. 

"Feed yourself tonight, I'm not doing it."

She stared in shock and confusion at him and he thrust a finger to point at her tray and then to her face.

"Didn't you hear me? Feed yourself!" His voice was loud and sharp, cutting through the room like a knife, and she winced. Hand wobbling, she slowly began to pick at her mashed potatoes and swirl them around.

"Don't play with your food, eat it," Papa directed, still in a piercing tone and she quickly brought up a glop to her mouth, shoving it inside and swallowing. It felt like a moment of accomplishment to her, even though it was hard because she'd almost forgotten how to eat with utensils. She sloppily ate dinner as Papa then brought in a tray for himself too, also with mashed potatoes and veggies, but a large golden brownish piece she didn't know was on the tray too. He used a small knife to cut into it and he told her it was chicken, but that babies like her couldn't eat solid meat yet.

"When?"

"When what? When are you not dependent on me and act like a big girl who chooses other people over her own Papa? It should be never," he replied with a snap, the last bit more to himself though than to her, and then they both ate in silence until they were finished. Papa was in such a bad mood that he wouldn't let her sleep with him when bedtime came, so she laid sadly on her cot, facing the wall, and she felt bad if his anger was all her fault for having the vision/nightmare and going to Owens about it, but she had to alert someone and now that she knew it was connected to Will, she had to help him if no one else could. Why didn't Papa want to help, too? He knew how to hurt more than anything, but he also helped her sometimes and he loved her, did he not? His attitude was like the weather; constantly changing and conflicting; one day all nice and sunny, the next she was left out in the cold. Achingly lonely without his touch to calm her and the warm solidness of his body, she listened to the sound asleep deep breathing of him before she reached under her mattress and felt for Mike's tiny note, bringing it up to her chest in the dark and holding it close, stifling a sad, suffocated sob. 

Chapter Text

October 30, 1984 11:00 AM

HAWKINS POLICE STATION, HAWKINS INDIANA 

Jim Hopper was halfway out of the station when Florence called him back from her desk, pointing at finger at a man seated over in the commons area by the windows and in front of Officers Callahan and Powell. 

"Chief, Eugene is here to see you about his farm." 

Hopper paused in the doorway, gritting his teeth and clenching his jaw, making a face.

"Damn, I was just about to go on break. I already saw Merrill."

"He says it can't wait. It's his crops now too." 

"Failed crops aren't a crime, but if he's here to confess to deliberate contamination, tell him to take it up with his neighbor - peacefully, would be nice."

"It's pretty serious, but don't take my word for it," Flo told him dryly and Hopper sighed, shutting the door, walking over and taking a seat down on a chair at a desk in front of Eugene. He struck up a cigarette and eyed the man exasperatedly with a touch of impatience.

"So what's going on with this farm of yours now? Don't tell me it's all part of this feud with Merrill. He came in here the other day claiming you've been poisoning his crops over this whole 'Pick Your Own Pumpkins' thing. Is that true?"

Eugene shook his adamantly and huffed.

"No sir, he's outta his mind going around slandering me like that when I was with my Jenny and her boys all the night he accuses me of doin' it. Nah, he's been up to something with my crop. It's the damn pumpkins I say, I've never seen anything like it. See these hands? Know why they look like this?" He lifted his rich brown, lined and calloused palms up to Hopper, who wasn't impressed. 

"Yeah, I do. So? It's because you're old." 

"Damn straight. I've been doing this a long time, nearly all my life. I know everything that can happen, but this ain't natural... this-this is somethin' bad. Every single pumpkin, entire vines shriveled up and dead. All dead. That just doesn't happen naturally, no, somebody did this. And don't go tellin' me it's the weather; we've had cold snaps like this before and nothin' happened to the crops that's had the likes of this. None of us have!"

"Us? You mean they're others dealing with this too? Who else?"

Eugene rattled off a list of fellow local farmers all having the same problem, which he believed was all Merrill's doing, and Hopper took this information in, making notes, and then he stood up, grabbing his keys and abandoning his lazifiere attitude. He signaled to his two deputies and nodded affirmatively.

"C'mon. Let's go take a look at some pumpkins."

"Sounds like we got ourselves a real pumpkin conspiracy," Powell commented with a grin while Callahan chortled as they left, but Hopper's apathy had transformed to high alert seriousness. Double accusations over the same issue that just didn't happen when it came to farming in Hawkins couldn't be just a coincidence, could it?

The pumpkin patches took up a large portion of land on the outskirts of town and were divided up between several local farmers. Once they arrived at Eugene's portion, Hopper headed out first to the field with the sun blazing at his back and upon walking around, it wasn't hard to spot the abnormalities: where rotund balls of orange should be basking in the late morning sun, were only caved in, overripe globs that were withering in decay and even the ground was rotting in gray and scorched black tones. Flies were everywhere. Hopper held his breath to avoid accidentally inhaling one or two as he poked at a pumpkin with his boot and then bent down, taking took his pocketknife to it and slicing into one side of the disintegrating flesh, stirring up the flies. 

God, it's almost as if a bomb went off nearby. 

"Jesus..." He heard Powell mutter a few feet away and Callahan leaned over, gingerly touching a vine the color of chimney soot and it was curiously dripping in a thick liquid.

"It stinks like a nursing home," Callahan moaned in exaggeration and Hopper moved away across the whole property with Eugene.

"And it's so bad, Chief, it's extended to the land and the trees too. Merrill must have some hell of a poison," Eugene remarked as they moved over to some trees at the edge of the field. Oddly, there were thick strings and coating of some kind of... slime? Hopper lifted his black gloves hand to it and ran his fingers down the wet bark and it stuck with the consistency of strong adhesive glue. 

"Merrill couldn't have done this. No one could do this with poison," he said quietly as Eugene cocked his head and sighed, tugging at his baseball cap. Hopper reached for his radio with his other, untainted hand gloved hand and spoke firmly into it to his officers as he shook his hand with the substance, hastily trying to get the stuff off.

"Hey, listen. I want you guys to track the rot, see how far it goes, and check out everyone's crop alright? And we don't know what caused this, if it's toxic or what, so don't touch anything with your bare hands," Hopper ordered just as Callahan, still in the middle of the field, took a too close sniff of his sticky slime coated bare fingers and got a bit on the end of his nose, causing him to sneeze. 

"Copy that, Chief," Powell deadpanned.

1:00 PM

Back at the station, Hopper pulled down a map of Hawkins from being pinned up on the bulletin board and began to mark X's at the areas where farms with rot had been identified. Powell was still out investigating, but already they figured it had to be a rot extending out to a radius of about three miles. He looked closer, making circles and connecting the spots together and he began to see a sort of pattern forming.

"What'd you reckon, Chief?" Callahan asked as Hopper stared, transfixed at the circles all converging around one particular place. Shit, it was so obvious. It was always so obvious, he should have known right away it went circling around, back straight to the source of everything because where else?

"Be back in bit," he suddenly announced and ignored Callahan's confused call after him as he plucked his keys up from Flo and burst out the door, going for his truck.

Several minutes later, Hopper went striding into Hawkins Lab, curtly informing the secretary he needed to see Dr. Owens at once and she sent him up to his office, where Hopper barged in with no nonsense. 

"Hey there, Chief. What can I do for ya?"

"Take a look at this." Hopper removed the map from his jacket and unfolded it crisply before slamming it down the desk, spreading his hands out over the creases and jabbing at the circled X locations. Owens appeared perplexed and wasn't taking it very seriously.

"Right, okay, I see it's a... map! I like the design and from this angle, these patterns here are kind of pretty. Almost psychedelic." 

"This a joke to you?" Hopper growled and Owens shook his head, smiling and standing up from his desk.

"No, not a joke, I just don't know what this applies to and what you want from me."

"Merrill's Farm. Ever heard of it? How about any other local farms? Entire crops of Halloween pumpkins are completely rotted out with no known cause and trees are oozing slime. Crops, grass, trees, everything in sight is dying. Sounds like some kind of a horror film, right?" 

"What are you talking about?"

Hopper explained everything he saw and what Eugene and Merrill told him about their prospective patches, and how much Powell and Callahan had identified so far, but Owens only raised his eyebrows with mild interest. 

"That's too bad. So what exactly does this have to do with me?"

"What if there's a leak?" 

"A leak?"

"The Upside Down. You've been struggling to contain it, right? It began from here, it all originated from this facility, don't you see? It's pointing back to this lab and what if some part spread out to these farms?" Hopper proposed seriously, but Owens attempted to shut down the possibility.

"Impossible. That's ridiculous, this farm you're talking about and all the others aren't even right next door, they're across the railroad tracks, aren't they? The only leak is from the basement in this building, that's it, and we've been working very hard all year to contain it exclusively to this place."

"Prove it to me. Prove this has absolutely nothing to do with what you've failed at stopping."

Owens hesitated, wondering how much to slip and worm his way out of this accusation without appearing highly suspicious, but he wasn't comfortable with showing Hopper the full operation Martin was spearheading downstairs with the specimens and growing portal because that would only affirm the Chief's blame. He had to smooth this over as best as possible, even if that meant letting Hopper win a little. So, reluctantly he obliged and told Hopper he'd meet him outside so they could go visit one of the farms and upon inspection, he could bring a team over to take samples for confirmation. 

"Fine, let's go then. Right now," Hopper replied and walked out with the air of a man on a mission. Owens grabbed his coat off his chair and followed to the lobby, where he stopped and leaned over to the secretary at her desk and quietly muttered.

"Sue, I'm gonna be gone for a while and there's no need to inform anyone, alright?"

She smiled and gave him a knowing look before he went out and exited into a government car to follow the Chief's truck out the parking lot and down the road. Shortly thereafter, they drove up past the weather worn, battered sign welcoming them to Eugene's farm and parked up by the field. Hopper got out first and threw on some dark tinted aviators and his hat while Owens pushed open his door and stepped out, holding up a hand to shield against the bright autumn light. Eugene came walking up, casting a suspicious glance at the nice car and suited man behind the wheel and then at Owens, jerking a thumb towards him as he spoke to Hopper. 

"Who's this guy?" 

"Local government, department of agriculture," Hopper lied and Owens nodded, smiling casually as though this was nothing more than a routine crop check he did all the time when there was a problem. Eugene wasn't too thrilled.

"Well, if you can figure out what's going on I'd be grateful, but I ain't holding my breath. If you need me, give a holler," he told them and walked away. Owens clapped his hands together and strode forward towards the field, squinting against the sun.

"So what have we got here?" He followed Hopper into the patch and immediately took notice of the stench of rotting fruit flesh and the blackened orange lumpy pumpkins collapsing in on themselves with decomposition. Hordes of fruit flies fluttered around many of them and Owens watched his step, carefully maneuvering his shoes around the mess while Hopper just stomped through in his boots.

"You ever seen anything like this, Doc? I'm not a farmer, but I've seen expired fruit in the garbage look better than these."

"Can't say that I have, but if both farmers are denying tampering and poison of any sort, then I'm sure it's just a bad bout of some kind of disease, don't you think?" His casual manner was internally fading however as he glanced around at more of the pumpkins and he knew this was exactly what Hopper was suspecting, yet Owens was surprised. He hadn't thought the spread could travel to here and why? Why... pumpkins?

"Yeah, it's a disease all right," Hopper muttered angrily and led Owens over to the grove of trees, right to the trunk of one he'd touched before and lifted his gloved hand to the bark, which was still dripping with what was reminiscent of sap, but much thicker and clear. It stuck again to the Chief's hand like glue and he pulled it out as far as he could, stretching, before it broke into a sinewy glop and hung off his gloved fingers.

"This remind you of anything?" Hopper asked and Owens shrugged nonchalantly.

"Besides snot?" he replied with a chuckle, but Hopper's glare told him this was no time for amusement.

"Okay, you tell me then. What do you think it is?"

"Oh, I don't know... I'd venture a guess to say it's from you-know-what, but that's too outrageous isn't it, huh, Doc?" 

Owens stared at him for a while, then cleared his throat. 

"Tell you what. I'll send a hazmat crew over here and they can check it out, alright? Just to confirm it could be potentially alarming. If it is what you think it is, then at least we'll know and we can deal with it before it infects any other parts of town," Owens told Hopper sincerely and he nodded, partly satisfied, as he opened his truck door. 

"Oh, Chief - I've still got some time before I have to go back. Did you want to grab some grub or something?" 

"Nah, I should get to the station," Hopper gruffly replied, getting in the cab. 

"Right. Well, maybe some other time then," Owens said, but his words were drowned out by the rumble of the truck and Hopper pulled away out of the farm. 

1:30 PM

HNL

Brenner and Eleven were still on shaky terms and had been the entire morning into the afternoon; again he had refused to feed her, so she had eaten her waffle pieces and drank her milk by herself while he was gone, likely showering and shaving. Since then, he'd been sporadically in and out of her room, so while he was apparently busy, she had also busied herself with rereading Mike's note over and over, relishing in the fact that these were his  own words, his handwriting, his hands been used to actually write on this little scrap of white paper that came from him. Inside it made her feel as warm and as soft as Mr. Teddy Bear's ears and she kept the note very close, afraid that Papa might accidentally find it and get even madder. She hoped Owens would deliver her message to Mike and she wondered if he would try to rescue her again. She hated to see him get hurt in any way by Papa and wished she could protect him somehow.

The door opened now and she glanced up, stuffing the note under her bottom as Papa came inside, his expression distracted as he went over to her.

"Eleven, let's go talk to Dr. Owens together," he stated simply and started to lift her up off the cot and she kicked his thighs, forcing him to drop her back down because she couldn't have him seeing Mike's note.

"What's the matter with you?" he asked in slight surprise and irritation.

"Sleepy," she answered, fidgeting to try and get the note from under her bottom and push it under the pillow.

"You don't look sleepy. Come, take my hand then if you don't want to be carried." He extended his hand and she froze, unsure of what to do. 

"Eleven, take my hand! What is wrong with you?"

She gazed past him at the open door in mock shock and he looked confused, briefly turning his head away to follow her gaze and in that second of time, she snatched the tiny note out from under her and shoved it securely under her pillow.

"Okay, Papa," she said, jumping up as he looked back to her with displeasure, unamused.

"This is no time for games. Let's go." He yanked her off out the door and down the hall, up a floor to his colleague's office, not bothering to knock on the door. He quickly found out, though, that it was locked.

"Sam? It's me, we need to talk," Brenner called out and was met with silence. 

"Sam! Open up!"

Angry with the lack of response, Brenner huffed and strode down the hall to ask for a guard's keys and left Eleven standing by herself. She frowned and concentrated hard on the door knob... she'd broken locks like this before, so she forced it to break open and it did, popping the door open wide and she saw that the room was completely vacant. 

"Okay, it's his office right down here..." Papa's voice startled her and she looked to see him coming back her way with a guard who had a collection of keys on a ring jingling loudly. They reached her and Papa stared at the broken door knob and then at her. 

"Never mind, it won't be necessary," he told the guard offhandedly and waved him off. 

"Good work, Eleven," Papa told her as he stuck his head inside the empty space and he wasn't pleased.

"Let's go find out where he went," he firmly stated and dragged her off. He asked a few guards and nurses in range, who provided no helpful information, finally getting to the bottom of this missing doctor mystery when he reached the downstairs secretary, whom he couldn't remember the name of.

"Have you seen Sam Owens around?" 

She hesitated for a fraction of a second, then answered innocently. 

"Oh, he went out about an hour ago, probably for lunch but I'm not sure where."

Brenner scowled unpleasantly and turned away, tugging Eleven with him. He hadn't suspected that man to be so unreliable, but somehow it was predictable. You just couldn't trust a man who disagreed with your methods.

"If he's not back in half an hour, send men out for him and he will find himself regretting straying from his job," Brenner ordered to the guards present. 

"Yes, sir." 

2:00 PM

HAWKINS MIDDLE SCHOOL

Mike heard scribbling next to him and he side-eyed Dustin, who was frantically writing on a notebook paper, probably hoping Mr. Clarke would think he was dutifully taking notes on the rod-through-the-skull brain trauma survivor Phineas Gage, who they were studying today along with the components of the human body. They'd already covered the brain briefly earlier last school year, but Mr. Clarke was hammering it in so much today that Mike was certain they would be getting a pop quiz before the period was over. At least he was paying attention, unlike some of his peers, although it was painful to because this guy's rare case was extremely bothering him since it was eerily similar to Will's own "medical oddity" and personality shift since the coma and these lasting effects from the Upside Down. 

"Psst."

Mike looked over to Dustin, who had passed the note to him and expected him to transfer it over to Lucas, who would pass it to Max. 

A good way to get me in trouble. Thanks, Dustin.

Sure enough, Mr. Clarke spotted it and smiled in a nice way, but his voice of disapproval made you sit up and pay attention. 

"Is there something you'd like to share with the class, Mike?" 

"Uh..." 

Suddenly the door banged open and Principal Coleman walked in with the invisible confident authority he carried with him constantly and to Mike's surprise, he pointed straight at him. 

"Michael, can I borrow you for a minute? It's urgent. Sorry about this, Scott." 

"Oh, that's fine. Mike, I'll be seeing you after class," Mr. Clarke answered mildly with only a hint of disgruntlement and Mike grimaced. 

Great. Just great.

He heard collective whispering from his peers and could feel the penetrating stares of his friends from behind him as he followed the principal out into the hall and he rehearsed what he was going to say if he was wrongly accused of anything. 

It's not my fault, I swear I didn't know! I wasn't even there!

Principal Coleman, however, led him straight to the main office and he put a hand on Mike's shoulder and spoke in a gentle manner.

"Your grandfather is here about an unfortunate family matter. Right this way." 

Mike's brain ran ahead of his heart rate in panic and then confusion. 

Oh shit. It's Nana, isn't it?! But why... wait, I don't have a grandpa in Hawkins. 

His mouth fell open slightly to see Dr. Owens standing in the front lobby and the man lifted up a hand in greeting. 

"Hey, kiddo. We have to talk about your grandma."

"What...?" Mike trudged forward, disbelieving. How the hell did Dr. Owens know Nana? And worse, had the government or Lab done something to her?!

"What's wrong?" he almost yelped and Owens put an arm around him, rubbing his shoulder, and Mike bristled at the unfamiliar closeness. 

"Let's talk about it outside, okay?" 

They walked out the doors and down to the parking lot, Mike in a high state of anxiety and faint anger, relieved once Owens let go of him and he turned to face the older man, defiant. 

"What the hell have you done with Nana?! What do you want from her?!" 

Owens haltingly put up his hands in an effect to calm him down, but it didn't work on Mike's mood. 

"This isn't about your grandma. I'm sorry for that little charade back there, but you'll understand it was a necessary coverup. I'm actually here to pass on a message from the girl of interest." 

Mike's anger dissipated in a flash and he moved closer. 

"El?" he whispered and Owens nodded.

"Yes. I spoke with her yesterday and she told me about a vision she had of the same thing that Will drew before the coma. You know, what you all are calling the 'shadow spider monster'?"

Mike's heart leaped up in alarm and he staggered back, holding up a hand.

"Wait. She saw it?! It's real? What did it do? Is she okay?!"

"Easy, easy. It was part of a nightmare she had and it didn't hurt her. What's important is that Will can't be just hallucinating or the only one experiencing it. She was never shown that drawing, so there's no way this could be made up. I believe it's very real and it's making itself known through her. She made initial contact with the creature, the Demogorgon, as you call it and that was only the beginning. We've discovered many more like it in that dimension. This is, I'm afraid, the tip of the iceberg."

Mike was flabbergasted and his eyes widened. 

"More? What do you mean? Like what, you have several of them? Dozens?"

Owens pushed his index finger upward towards the sky, indicating higher numbers, and Mike stared in growing horror. 

"Hundreds? Thousands? We need to warn people!" 

Owens reached over and put a hand on the boy's shoulder, but he jerked back, not about to be comforted by some shady government doctor who posed as his "grandpa" in a public school. 

"Mike, there's no reason for alarm yet. We have it all under control."

"Right. Yeah, right," Mike spat out bitterly and Owens decided it would be best to change the subject.

"I also wanted to tell you that she asked me to let you know that she misses you, cares about you, and she wants you still. Whatever was going on between the two of you... it isn't over, and I'd say it's going strong, even after all this time." 

Mike exhaled, that message a balm to his exploding worry. He nodded vigorously and thanked Owens for telling him.

"Not a problem, just as long as we keep it under the radar if you get my drift, and I'll be sure to let you know if she has anything more to pass on. Now, go back to class and don't say a word to anyone about everything I told you, not even to your friends. Also - when you go back in, maybe it would help if you looked upset, like I just told you your grandma is very sick and could die."

"Seriously?" Mike snorted.

"All part of the job, son."

They parted ways, with Owens going to a parked black sedan and Mike heading back inside to science class. Mr. Clarke gave him a nod and slight smile as he took his seat and he felt Lucas kick the back of his chair. He whipped around while the teacher's back was to the chalkboard, but instead of looking at Lucas, he found himself locking eyes with that new girl Max a few seats over behind him. She was pointedly staring at him in an intense way, but it wasn't mean or rude exactly. She seemed like she was trying psyche him out, read through him. But Mike wasn't about to be an open book, least of all to her, so he faced forward and kept his attention solely and firmly on the curious, disturbing case of Phineas Gage and the quiz papers that were starting to be handed out. 

3:00 PM

HNL 

Brenner was back in Eleven's room after yelling at Owens once he had finally come back (something about going off to investigate a suspicious pumpkin patch? That sounded absurd to him and he thought Sam was being too paranoid and shouldn't be picking up leads from a man who was intoxicated half the time, but a crew would be sent out just in case there was damage control to be done) and now there was a slight lull in the afternoon, at least until the big test with Eleven, and he was self-absorbed, going through paperwork and ignoring her. With her back turned to him, she quietly reached for Mike's note under her pillow and held it up to her face to read again. She did wish the words were bigger, though, because it was awfully a bit of a strain to read, but she had practically almost memorized it. 

I care a lot about you and I really miss you. Don't lose hope.

"Eleven."

She jumped at his voice and quickly stuffed the note under the pillow again as discreetly as she could, whipping her body around to face him as he stared suspiciously at her.

"Yes, Papa?" she squeaked out and shifted, lying down on the pillow, her heart thudding a mile a minute as she tried to give the illusion of calm. He looked down, grabbing up his papers and shuffling them together and stood up swiftly, frown in place.

"Get up. We, or rather more you, have work to do thanks to Dr. Owens," he told her bitterly and she sat up, this information not easing her heart rate because she knew from yesterday what she had to do and although she was willing to do it for Will's sake, she was scared that she would likely be facing the monster again and this time it wouldn't be a dream. Could it hurt her?

"Let's go, Eleven," Papa snapped impatiently and opened the door as she moved off the cot and hurried to his side, automatically clutching his hand and she was surprised to feel him squeezing back hard, his fingers digging into her skin. She glanced up at him and his tense expression as they walked together down the hall. Usually she was the one who was holding on for dear life to his hand, not the other way around. Was Papa more scared than she was? Was that possible? He never seemed frightened of much.

Silently they made it to a testing room with its large bank of glass windows overlooking a gray table and chairs, where a technician was standing in wait with the electrodes and machinery. Eleven now clenched her fingers in Papa's hand at the scene that was a horrible reminder of a lot of her childhood training lessons and kills, and both of their corresponding hand grips were so tight and interlocked, she was worried they would never come apart. But they did, Papa releasing first, and her hand dropped to her side, palm sweaty and she saw him wipe his hand on his pants briefly before leaving her to the technician to hook her up. She watched the window anxiously as a few scientists flitted in and out and then the door to the room off to her left banged open, Dr. Owens coming in with Papa right at his heels. He pulled up a chair to Brenner's disgruntlement and began to talk her through her task until he was interrupted. 

"I'LL be the one to speak to her," Brenner interjected sharply, moving his colleague aside roughly and stepping in front of Eleven, bending down to get at eye level. 

"Listen to me. When you find it, let it come to you. Don't panic and pull out right away, give it time. We don't know everything about it and I don't want you messing something up like you did with the initial contact with the creature."

"I don't think that's the best idea, Martin. What if it tries to mentally infect her somehow?" Owens argued next to him and he felt his jaw clench. Everything had been so much easier without this man involved and even worse, Eleven listened and liked him. 

"It can't, not from here. It's all in your mind, Eleven, so don't be afraid. You have all the control."

But she knew from past experience, it could affect her and anyone in the vicinity if it broke through the Upside Down to their world like the Demogorgon had. But Papa was also right; this monster was different and maybe it couldn't hurt her because it was unknown and new, but if it could cause so much fear in her from a nightmare, who knows what it would do for real... she didn't feel very much in control.

"Are you listening to me?" Brenner demanded at her and Owens chastised this question. 

"Of course she's listening to you, she's not an animal!" 

"Cow?" Eleven suddenly asked, prompted by the animal mention and Papa blinked, expression turning impatient. 

"We're not talking about cows right now. You are going to make contact no matter what and that's that. Now do it." He got up and glared at Owens before exiting while Eleven felt her nervousness and fear mounting. Owens glanced down at her and tried to offer advice.

"Look, if something goes wrong, if it tries to attack you, just get out or call for help. We'll be here the whole time, just a window away." He smiled tightly and she nodded, appreciating his effort to help while Papa on the other hand often only forced her with minimal explanation.

"Here is the drawing for reference," Owens said, pulling the Will's illustration out of a folder in his hands and placing it down on the table. He patted her shoulder lightly before leaving and only a couple minutes later, she sat ready on the hard metal chair in front of the gray table with the electrode cap on her scalp and she eyed Papa and Dr. Owens, who were standing on the other side of the glass, watching carefully. Papa had a clipboard poised in his hands and he nodded slowly at her and she stared downward at the drawing of Will's placed in front of her. She felt more dread and clenched the top of the table, willing herself to relax, but it was too hard. She had to focus. Closing her eyes, she focused internally on the image, burning it into her mind's eye, and combining it with her own memory of the nightmare and suddenly she found herself not in the void, but straight into the Upside Down. She gasped, staring all around her at the walls in the room that were now covered with walls of gooey matter and thick black ropes of tendrils. She ran out of the open doorway, looking for Papa of anyone, but it was devoid of any life but her. Circling back to the testing room, she paused, her reality distorting. This wasn't real, it was all in her head, wasn't it? She was still at the table, not in the hallway and not in the Upside Down. Taking a deep, shuddering breath and walking back inside, she tried to get her bearings. How far could she go in this vision? Could she get to Will? Her confusions muddled her intent and her vision quivered, breaking her out back to her present state in the room. She gasped, leaning over and touching her bleeding nose while the door opened and Brenner walked in with Dr. Owens.

"Did you locate it?" he asked urgently and she shook her head. 

"No... just Upside Down." 

Brenner stood stiffly and frowned at her while Owens nodded, not upset. 

"That's good, that's a start. Maybe it's best to take this slowly, not startle it," he told Papa and for once he agreed.

"Fine. Eleven, try again and find it, but very carefully." 

Eleven thought it was odd how they spoke as if this monster was a delicate rabbit she was hunting when it felt like it was hunting her. 

"Yes, Papa," she begrudgingly whispered and they walked back out, leaving her to readjust her senses and plunge back in, but this time she thought of Will and found herself in the Upside Down version of his room and he was still on the bed, eyes staring wide open at the ceiling. 

"Eleven, where are you?" Papa's voice distantly cut through her vision and she struggled to respond, caught up in it. 

"...Will. Room, Upside Down."

She walked closer to Will as she had done the other day and her hand reached out tentatively, trembling, and his eyes trained on her and his whole body abruptly jolted alive with dark veins bursting through his skin and his mouth opened wide and to her horror, a smokey column came spewing out, snakelike, straight from him and towards her face, nearly touching her and then that's when she screamed as it started to pass into her and she felt herself starting to shake, desperate to leave her body, leave her mind, yet she was utterly paralyzed.

"Eleven, get out! Get out!" A voice she recognized as Dr. Owens' was shouting faintly and, spurred on by his voice and with the sheer will to live, she jerked forcibly from the energy, coming to her senses and she felt hot, wet blood streaming down to her chin... it felt like her whole face was bleeding and she tried to breathe, but her chest felt so constricted and hands were pushing her down on a hard surface and then an oxygen mask was fitted over her face. She took a deep breath in relief at the flow of air back into her lungs and her eyes strained against the encroaching kaleidoscope of spots in her vision and she blinked rapidly, trying to dissolve them. Blurrily, she could register that Papa was removing her one-piece, shouting something to Owens, who was standing next to him, and then he was gone and she squirmed, feeling coldness on her skin as Papa pressed a stethoscope to her bare chest and listened to her extremely irregular heartbeat. More bodies she didn't have names for crowded around her and she decided to only focus on breathing. 

Keep breathing. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

She thought she must have passed out for a while because she couldn't remember Owens coming back or the oxygen mask being removed from her nose and mouth, but there she was, lying in just her diaper on the table and Papa above her, tracking her pulse as Owens was fretting on her other side, his arms and hands motioning in distress. 

"This was a mistake, we shouldn't have done this! It nearly killed her!"

"It was your idea to begin with," Brenner reminded him calmly with no emotion, fixed on tending to his subject.

"I didn't know! How were we supposed to know?! It was a shot in the dark and you told me she was strong enough, that the risk was minimal!"

"Well, she's alive isn't she? No harm done."

"Papa..." Eleven moaned, batting his hand against her neck away and attempting to sit up. He put a hand on the back of her head and propped her up on the table, but she swayed and Owens told her to lie back down, yet she refused, willing to sit up. Papa was staring at her with an indescribable expression; she couldn't tell if he was mad, sad, pleased, or perhaps all of those at once. She looked down at herself in her diaper, beginning to cry. His frown creased in concern and he touched her, realizing she was very wet.

"I need to change her. Did you get her clothes?" He asked urgently, speaking to Dr. Owens.

"Yes, they're right here," he answered, bringing over a folded fresh diaper and white bodysuit, quickly handing them to Papa and then he grabbed a tissue, leaning over and wiping the blood up from her face as Papa removed her diaper and started cleaning her. She couldn't stop crying and Owens tried to hush her, assuring her she was okay and that she'd feel better soon.

"I-I saw, I saw part of m-monster! It was Will! It c-came from him! It came to m-me!" she choked out and Papa glanced up from powdering her as Owens tossed the crimson stained tissue away and cleaned his hands.

"Can you tell us about it?" Brenner asked, lifting her bottom up to slide the diaper underneath and affixing it to her.

"It-It here. It showed me. Will. It in Will!" she cried and the two doctors glanced at each other.

"Try to relax now," Owens told her with a forced smile and she saw Papa start to lift up her clothing, but then set it back down, speaking to Owens.

"I want to keep her monitored here for a while, perhaps run a few tests and make sure her vitals remain stable." He left her field of view and she cried, upset he was leaving when she needed him, needed his comfort.

"Papa! Papa! Papa!" She wept and writhed on the table, kicking in agony as a few nurses came over, holding her down.

"No sedative," Owens barked at them as a needle was brought forward before retracting and Eleven felt cool hands sticking more electrodes to her, these ones on her chest, and she felt a different needle insert her skin, drawing blood. Owens was holding her hand off to her right and reassuring her everything was alright, but she wasn't fooled. Nothing was okay. 

Brenner, meanwhile, went to the boy's room straight away, having the panicking mother held back as he went to his bedside and yanked off the IV.

"What are you doing?!" Joyce gasped in concern as Will thrashed a bit and Brenner stuck the needle he'd brought with him in hard, jamming it into the boy's arm before Brenner hooked his arms underneath the boy and scooped up his fading conscious body up into his arms. He was even lighter than Eleven and so frail, limper by the second from the drug and Brenner began to walk out the door with him.

"HEY! WHERE ARE YOU GOING WITH MY SON?! NO, STOP! STOP!" Joyce screamed as he was carried out and now completely unconscious from the sedative. Brenner took him away down to the lower floor basement and the scientists stared, parting ways as Brenner walked through to the cage, now full of more the dog-size specimens. Thankfully they grew rather quickly and there certainly was no shortage of them. He laid Will down at the base of the cage, watching for reactions from the creatures as they stirred at the new activity and began making noise, rattling the enclosure.

"Doctor, he shouldn't be in here, it's too dangerous!" a female scientist exclaimed, coming forward, but Brenner held up a hand. 

"Just watch."

The creatures circled in their cage, inspecting, and then they all began to bow down to the ground, haunches bending and their heads sinking in some sort of submission to the boy, or rather, what he was hosting. So it was true... These specimens were soldiers to something greater, more dominant. An interdimensional hierarchy and Will was the involuntary vessel to their leader. Extraordinary.

Brenner stepped back, ordering the scientists to take a blowtorch to the cage. They did so, hesitantly, and as soon as the flames hit the specimens, Will's body began to shake and sweat, gaining to full convulsions and the inky black veins under his skin bloomed forth. Brenner silently watched him and the specimens suffer to the point that made even the scientists start to intervene.

"He needs to get out of here!" the same woman scientist yelled while another joined in protest. 

"Stop! It's killing him!"

Brenner grabbed a shock stick from a guard and struck one of the creatures through the bars with and it roared, screeching and jumping away. This affected the others, but Will was still shaking and the creatures barreled into the bars, furious at the torture to themselves and to their master. Brenner bent down, cradling the boy's body and carrying him out of the area quickly, the roaring screeches echoing behind him, and down the hall, going up levels back to his room where the mother was still being heavily restrained and the moment she saw Brenner she hurled an assault of words at him, but he barely listened and set Will down on the hospital bed and motioned for nurses to take care of him as he walked out, back to his own subject.

Eleven was still crying when he came in and he watched Owens desperately attempting to comfort her and Brenner felt a distance, his mind consumed with the knowledge he'd gleaned from that impromptu experiment with William and the fact that there was indeed a hive mind and that boy was in grave danger as long as the entity still had its hold on him. If they could burn it out of him, what would it do? Perish along with the boy or was it too indestructible? Would it just go on to find and latch onto a new victim as host? Was it possible to harness it, just as they had done with the creatures? What were its physical properties or was it purely energy, yet it had preliminary intelligence... It seemed nearly impossible to exist, but Brenner had discovered the implausible before. However it was, it was remarkable, indeed.

"Martin! A little help here?" Owens' voice called out as he tried to hold Eleven down and Brenner snapped out of his reverie, walking over and staring down tiredly at the struggling girl kicking and flailing while the nurses frustratedly tried to get another blood sample and take readings. Brenner slammed his hands down on either side of her head, looming his body over hers threateningly. This caught her attention and her tear-streaked face, still stained with faint blood, looked up at him fearfully and she whimpered. 

"Pa-Papa..."

"Quiet. You are going to be a good girl and behave for Dr. Owens and the nurses or you will be very sorry," he told her with quiet force and she nodded as he backed off, leaving the room. Owens called after him, unsure of whether to stay with Eleven or check up with him and try to understand what was going on, but her grasping on his hand left him not much choice.

"No!" she cried, nearly shrieking, as he tried to pull away.

"Okay, okay, shh... I won't go," he promised and she sighed heavily, clinging onto his hand as though it were life support. He looked sadly down at her, wishing there was a way to deal with this without her suffering tremendously. It just didn't seem all that fair, but wasn't that life?

Chapter Text

October 31, 1984 11:00 AM

HNL

The overhead lights winked unanimously at Eleven as she lay still on the hospital bed, coming to her senses after a long night of fitful sleep and an absent Papa there to comfort her, even Dr. Owens left eventually when it got too late, but he was the first face she saw now in the late morning and she blinked slowly as he came in, holding her stuffed lion in his arms. 

"How are you feeling today, kiddo?" he asked softly as he dropped the lion down gently onto her stomach and sat down in a chair next to her bedside. She processed this question carefully before answering, running her fingers through Mr. Lion's mane. How was she feeling? Not terrible, but not good at all. That monster had not disappeared from her mind and it seemed like every time she fell asleep, there it was. It felt like it was tracking her, haunting her, dauntingly daring her to go find it again before it claimed her. Was this how Will felt before it took him? She didn't want to become like him.

"Eleven, can you hear me?"

She glanced over, her head weighted and sluggish, but not from sedatives, which Owens had insisted against since her system was overloaded. 

"O-Okay..." she whispered, her throat pushing the words out in a scratchy way and he nodded. 

"Any pain? Headache? Nausea? Visions?" 

"No." She closed her eyes, unable to talk and admit the truth. 

She heard him get up and speak in a low voice to a nurse and then he back came over with a cup of water, holding it out to her in offering.

"Would you like some water? And if you feel up to eating, we can get some food for you. Your blood sugar has dipped quite low." 

She lifted up her hands with effort and accepted the cup, bringing it to her lips shakily and taking a tiny sip. 

"Is that alright?" Owens asked, supporting the bottom of the cup with his hand so she wouldn't drop it and spill all over herself. She nodded, drinking more water to wake herself up and her stomach gurgled, also waking up. Owens smiled and took the cup from her when she was done with it, standing up. 

"I guess that's a yes for some food." He left the room and she stared at the ceiling, wondering where Papa was and when she'd get back to their room. She hated feeling like she was very sick. The door opened a few minutes later and a nurse came in with a tray, Owens right behind her with a small sleeve of crackers. The tray was set down on Eleven's lap and the nurse helped her sit up as Owens took a seat again and unwrapped the crackers, the hazy white packaging crackling and rustling noisily. 

"Here, try and eat one of these. They're just plain crackers with salt," Owens said, handing over a square cracker perforated with tiny holes. She bit off a piece, the salt stinging her tongue, and swallowed. It was fairly bland and she ate the rest before picking at the other food on her tray, such as the miniature chunks of fruit and glop of applesauce, licking the sweet yellow mush off of a tiny spoon given to her by the nurse. 

"Better?" Owens asked and she nodded, looking around. 

"Where... Papa?" 

Owens hesitated, his eyes darting off to the side before back to her.

"He... He'll be by to see you soon. He has a lot on his mind. I'm sure he'll want to talk to you." 

She didn't understand, but she wasn't sure Owens did either. 

"How long... I stay here?" 

He sighed, shifting position. 

"I don't know, kiddo. Until you feel back to normal and your Papa says you can go back to your room. We won't try making contact again for a while, rest assured." 

For a while. 

"Again? Contact... again?" 

"No, no, we won't make you. Not if it's too much a risk." 

"Will?" she whispered in concern and again his minor body movements proved uncomfortable with answering directly. 

"He's... better than he was last night, I'll say that. He's resting right now, like you."

Eleven stayed quiet partly because she couldn't think of any more questions, but more so that she was still tired. She closed her eyes and must have nodded off, because the sound of the door opening woke her. Owens and the nurse were gone, replaced by Papa coming in, adjusting his tie, and he moved the chair aside, opting to sit on the bed with her, next to her legs. He patted her blanketed thighs and smiled faintly. 

"How are you doing?"

"Good." She averted her eyes and stared hard at the cream-colored sheets. His hand reached over and he thumbed her chin up gently, stroking her cheeks. For some reason this gesture caused a sharp, sad tug on her heart and she promptly burst into tears. He retracted his hand, startled, and she sobbed uncontrollably.

"P-Papa, I'm s-sorry... I couldn't... monster... I-I bad f-for get out..."

"Stop it!" His sudden sharp voice interjected her emotions like a cross current wave and she quelled her tears, taking deep breaths to calm herself.

"You didn't do anything wrong. You did well for making contact. I know now what it is. It's remarkable. It wants you, but it can't have you because it already has a host in the boy."  

"N-No... Will..." 

"Don't worry about him. It's too late. We still have much to learn from his corpse." 

"I don't... I don't want - "  

"He's going to die either way, Eleven. If we purge it from him, take it out by force, his body will break down and perish in the process. If it stays long enough, it will consume him. There are no other options. You'll have to say goodbye soon." 

"No..." she began to sob again as he got up off her bed, already leaving. She felt devastated, as if his words had trapped her into a dark maze and there was no way out. 

"No! No! No!" she cried over and over, the word itself a meaning for everything she felt. No to Will dying. No to the monster. No to Papa leaving her again. No to him staying because she hated him right now. No to being in the lab. NO to all of it! 

Brenner paused and looked back at her before exiting, his gut telling him she needed him now, but mentally he was elsewhere and he always listened to his brain. The heart organ was incapable of feeling and deciding anything, after all. 

1:00 PM

The day was passing achingly slowly and for Eleven all alone, it was almost a dripping torture as she longed to rid herself of this monstrous residue left in the back of her head and her stomach churned with queasiness after the light meal earlier. The more she thought about it, the worse she felt and she squirmed, rolling over as though that would ease anything. She tried counting to ten, but then stopped, unable to contain herself anymore. Eleven ripped the IV right off her arm and shook off the wires as she jumped out of the bed, running to the door and bolting out down the hallway for a bathroom and, unwittingly, she ran straight into the men's one. She barely had time to register the unfamiliar urinals before barreling into a stall, locking the door behind her, and throwing herself down on the floor to heave and spit into the toilet. There wasn't much to eject from her system due to the lack of quantity of foods and she coughed, leaning back and breathing heavily. The flashes of dark smokey tendrils reaching for her flickered in her mind's eye and she groaned, pulling her knees up to her chest and tucking her head down. 

Go away. Go away. Go away.

The squeak of the bathroom door startled her and she listened with light dread at the soft thudding footsteps coming closer and the rustle of clothing. Maybe it was just a nurse checking on her, or perhaps even Dr. Owens... 

"Eleven, why are you in here?" Papa's voice called out and she sighed in disappointment and heaved in anger, standing up from the stall and hearing his footsteps draw closer. She kept a hand on the lock, pressing her head to the tiny sliver of a crack between the stall door, but she couldn't see him. 

"Do you need Papa's help?" he asked and she couldn't tell if he was mocking her or not. 

"No," she replied in a loud whisper and then she saw a pair of legs and shiny shoes enter her field of vision. 

"Come out of there. I have something to show you." 

She wondered what it could be since he didn't sound happy about it. Possibly a new punishment? If that was the case, she didn't want to come out ever and find out, but she knew she'd be in even more trouble if she stayed. Slowly, she unlocked and pushed the door outward, meeting Papa's form standing a few feet in front of her. He read her expression and backed up several feet to the middle of the room, holding up a familiar small scrap of paper in his fingers and her gut clenched in realization he had found out Mike's note. 

No, no...

"Would you care to explain this? I discovered it this morning under your pillow and Dr. Owens has professed innocence to knowing anything about it. I was hoping you could tell me about it." 

Even his voice felt like a trap she couldn't escape out of. 

"No." 

"No? You don't know? Well, I suppose it doesn't matter then." He crushed his fingers and the paper succumbed to his fist. 

"NO!" she screamed as he opened his palm and took the wrinkled paper, ripping it into pieces, and dropping it to scatter around his feet. 

"No more, Eleven. No more boy, no more friends. You are not one of them and you do not deserve their help because you do not need it. You are just a little baby who needs her Papa. You proved that last night when you were constantly crying for me. Do you remember? I think Dr. Owens got sick of hearing it, but I didn't." He walked closer, holding his arms out to her and she backed away like a frightened animal, retreating back into the stall and slamming the door. 

"Stop hiding. Come out and accept me," he ordered in a warning tone and she began to breathe heavily. 

"Stay away!" she screamed at the closed stall door and her hands began to shake with fury.

"You're acting ridiculously. There is no need for this behavior." Papa's voice rang throughout the space, ringing in her ears and her throbbing head.

"You leave. Why... why don't you - you love me?!" she cried out and she got an exasperated reply.

"Don't you ever pay attention? I do love you, but only when you're good. You shouldn't be mad at me; I'm only trying to protect you. I didn't create this monster or the boy's suffering. I only want to help you." 

"YOU WANT IT! YOU WANT MONSTER! YOU WANT WILL GONE!" she screamed as loud as she could and her body began to vibrate with uncontrollable power. 

"You can never accept the truth, can you, Eleven? Well, I'll tell it to you... The truth is that right now you are being a brat. B-R-A-T. A very stupid, ungrateful, little brat and I won't tolerate it anymore." 

She blasted the door off its hinges and strode through, her head quivering with strength. Brenner froze in his standing position in the middle of the bathroom near the urinals, and stared at her with the nearly the same amount of raw rage she had against him. 

"I hate you." 

"You are acting sick. What is wrong with you?"

Those words boomeranged her right back to the night Will's "body" had been found in the lake and Mike had turned on her, shouting those very words at her face that made her want to curl up and die. How dare Papa say it when everything that was truly wrong was mostly his fault. 

"Eleven, what is wrong with you?" he repeated coldly. 

Maybe it was where they were at, in a bathroom of all places, or maybe she had remembered what she had done to the bully that had tripped Mike and mocked Will in the school gymnasium, but all Eleven knew was that she found herself focusing on a part of Papa she had never dared to pay much attention to, although she knew boys and men had it, and that it had the same function she had when she peed.

Brenner felt a tremendous pressure farther down and he grimaced, fighting the feeling as he realized what she was doing.

"Eleven, don't!"

It was too late. Some part of him burst internally with liquid and she stared at the growing wetness, blossoming and spreading in the fashion of a bleeding wound from his crotch and down his leg. He was as stiff as a board, paralyzed in shock and with a sudden sob of guilt, she ran past him and out the door into the hallway, running until she bumped into guards and they glared suspiciously at her, automatically restraining her and alerting others nearby. 

"Little Miss Another Escape Attempt, are we?" one of men taunted and she had half a mind to squeeze his bladder too, but Brenner came walking up swiftly, yet very stiffly, his gait hampered by what she had done and she gulped in fear, seeing the look on his face, one of such deep hatred and rage that made all her own anger drain right out of her, replaced by crippling fear. She struggled fruitlessly against the guards and then went limp as Papa approached and stared.

"Sir?" a guard asked, his eyes desperately trying not to notice the man's current condition.

"Beat her," Brenner ordered in a low voice and the guards glanced at each other, uncertain. 

"BEAT HER! DO WHATEVER YOU WANT TO HER OR I'LL DO IT MYSELF! NOW!"

Eleven flinched as she was thrown roughly to the floor on her hands and knees, bracing for impact of any sort, and then she heard a yell come from the other end of the hallway.

"Hey! What's going on here?!" Dr. Owens hustled down to them, looking quickly between Eleven, the guards, and Brenner. His eyes flickered down to the dark stain around Martin's crotch and leg and he was temporary at a loss for words.

"GET OUT OF HERE, SAM!" Brenner yelled at him, unmoving from his spot. Owens had to give the man credit for not making a run for it, tail tucked between his legs. His pride still somehow outshone anything else.

"Uh, okay, let's... Eleven, um, you get up and come with me while Martin, uh, w-why don't you go - go, take care of - of t-that, and..." Owens faltered in a stutter and Brenner ignored him, instructing the guards to beat Eleven as hard as they could until she bled and Owens couldn't take it any longer. He put himself in between her and Brenner, desperately trying to deescalate the situation.

"Let's all just calm down! We'll get this sorted out, okay? So I'll take Eleven, you go deal - deal with that, and we'll figure out a proper punishment later for whatever happened here."

Fuming beyond belief, Brenner spun around on his heel and hightailed it down the hall and out of sight. Owens breathed a sigh of relief and then helped Eleven up off the floor, dismissing the guards. Silently, he dragged her back to the room she was staying in and shut the door curtly behind him as she hurled herself into the bed belly first, face into the pillow. 

"You're very fortunate I'm here, Eleven. I hope you know that," Owens told her seriously somewhere above her and she buried her face further, despondent.

"This can't happen ever again. I'm honestly surprised, do you even know what you did?"

Of course she did, she just didn't care anymore. She was done for if Papa ever came back. She was done.

"You're going to have to be punished for this reckless use of power, you know that, right?" Owens lectured and she forced her head off the pillow and choked out a response.

"You'll hurt me? Spank?"

He sighed and sat down in the chair and tried to formulate a good response. 

"Oh, no, I'm not going to spank you. I... I don't know what I'm going to do actually. You should be punished, the problem is I don't know how. I don't even know if I really want to." The corners of his mouth twitched and he glanced at her, holding in a chuckle. She stared at him and he shook his head, muttering about how he didn't get paid enough to deal with this.

"Bad. I'm bad," she whispered glumly and he looked at her.

"Bad? Well, you were a bit bad, but it's not the end of the world." 

"Papa thinks so."

Owens was silent for a long time and Eleven just sat with her chin to her knees, depressed. Finally, he cleared his throat and sat up. 

"I think maybe it's best if we avoid your Papa for the rest of today, give him time to cool off. Why don't you just rest here for awhile?" Owens decided, getting up and walking out to the door, speaking to a nurse as Eleven sniffled, hugging Mr. Lion tightly to ease her anxiety.

"Tend to her please. I'll be in my office." 

In the meantime, Brenner was indeed avoiding them too as he finished cleaning himself up, throwing out his pants in the garbage, and making his way to the front entrance. 

"Dr. Brenner...?" the receptionist asked inquisitively as he strode out without a word or glance. He needed to think, to calm himself before he had a stroke because his heart was racing intensively triple the normal speed and his body was quivering. He went across the parking lot and into the woods, letting the brown bark and dying leaves envelop him. Standing in the middle of the thicket of trees, he felt more at peace... he was away from Eleven, Sam, all of them. He took a deep breath, exhaling out his nose and sighing.

He couldn't believe she had the audacity to do that to him, but she had done far worse to other lifeforms, and she could have actually critically injured him instead, so he supposed he should be fairly grateful that her childish temper hadn't exceeded past exactly that: she was only a child. However, he wished he knew how she had even learned to do it in the first place; it wasn't like he had ever taught her anatomy in detail, especially not a man's.

While Brenner was processing all this, he faintly heard a crashing sound from his left and the whirring of bicycle wheels, but his reflexes were too slow to quite catch up and suddenly he heard a shout before he was barreled into by a bike, both him and its rider collapsing to the ground in a heap. 

"Oh shit!" 

That was a familiar voice...

The boy, Michael Wheeler, quickly pushed himself up from the ground and reached for his bike, but Brenner's angered surged again with new possibility. If he couldn't hurt Eleven, this boy was the perfect target. He got to his feet, breathing heavily, and Mike's eyes widened in fear as the man shoved the bike aside with a clatter and staggered towards him. Mike turned and began to run, but his clumsy footing tripped up on tree roots and he went falling towards the ground until a strong hand yanked the back of his Venkman from Ghostbusters costume and hauled him up. After forcibly ripping off the bulky proton pack, he gasped as Brenner then slammed him hard against the trunk of a tree, pinning one hand on his chest and his other clamped over Mike's mouth. He struggled, making protesting noises behind Brenner's hand, but the old man had too much of a grip. Brenner leaned close into his face, nearly nose to nose, and Mike recoiled, flinching and his eyes watering at the pain, the overpowering scent of his cologne or aftershave, and his hot breath that smelled faintly minty. Brenner gritted his teeth, a dim shaft of sunlight through the trees shining and glinting off on his canines. When he spoke, it was no more than a raspy whisper and specks of spit flecked Mike's cheeks.  

"You want to see her, don't you? Do you know what she'd do to you? Would you like to feel the pain she'd cause you?"

Mike cringed, his face contorted in disgust and even more so, in confusion. Brenner removed his hand an inch down Mike's mouth, just to hear his reply. The boy sputtered, still wriggling to get free.

"I-I d-don't... what - what the hell are you talking about?! I'm not going to the Lab! I-I, my friends - they - we were running..."

"She'll never love you." 

Mike stared at him, his anger mounting as he realized who he was talking about. 

"Eleven doesn't love you," he countered.

"You're right. She doesn't love anyone, least of all you. She'll kill you when she gets the chance, she'll kill everyone in this town because she is so sick, so very sick and you are a fool to try and assist her."

"You're nuts, El isn't the monster!"

"You hardly know her and I thought I did, but she is worse than I thought. You're going to feel the pain she has caused me."

"Screw off! Let me go!"

Brenner clamped his hand back over the boy's mouth and then struck him in the stomach to stop him from moving and it stunned Mike, his body seizing up and momentarily freezing his fight. Brenner then grabbed at a spot that made Mike completely frozen in shock and pure fear. His crotch. The man smirked humorlessly as his hand plunged down into his tan pants and underwear, and Mike was mortified as he felt fingers digging around into his skin, almost clinically, and clutching around his penis. 

"You're a small one, aren't you? It wouldn't take much to get you a penectomy and castrated."

Mike wasn't sure what that meant exactly, but he could tell what it implied, so he spat in Brenner's face in detest. The man winced, then squeezed hard, his grip like the talons of a bird on prey, causing Mike to cry out in a pain like no other as he also felt himself pee a bit from the pressure until Brenner removed his hand, letting him slide down the trunk of the tree and stepping away.

"What... w-what the hell was that, you effing sicko?!" Mike yelled, gasping, and Brenner kicked him in stomach before straightening up as he heard commotion coming close.

Dustin and Lucas came rolling in fast on their bikes through the woods, skidding to a stop to see their friend lying on the ground, heaving. Brenner was nowhere in sight.

"Jesus, man, what happened?!" Lucas exclaimed as they went to pull him up and Mike wasn't sure what to say. He looked around, panting and his privates twinging in agony, but he couldn't see where Brenner was or went.

"Uh, I... I fell. I fell from hitting a tree," Mike lied and their faces scrunched, slightly perplexed, but it was believable. Lucas reached over and poked at Mike's cheek while Dustin felt his own face, around his upper lip and cheeks, and told him:

"Your face is red and you've got a mark or something right here. Did you hit your face when you fell?"

Mike flinched away, rubbing his face vigorously as his friends stared. 

"I'm fine, let's just go. Did we lose Billy?"

"Yeah. What a total psycho for not only trying to mow us down with his Camaro, but to get out and chase us! No wonder Max acts the way she does. "

Mike shuddered, recalling the close call and older boy's explosive aggression with Max's pleas as he staggered after them into the woods.

"Billy, stop it! It's not funny, Billy! Billy, STOP!"

"C'mon, let's get out of here," Mike said as he bent over and gathered up his black proton pack and awkwardly jostled it back on, grateful it hadn't been damaged, as they swiftly walked their bikes out and trampled through the woods. Every minor sound, a creak of wood, a rustle of a squirrel or wind through the trees, made Mike incredibly jumpy and he could have sworn he could see shadows dancing just out of reach in the corners of his vision. He pushed forward, aching and still shaken up from the experience, noting to himself that he would have to change his underwear when he got home.

Once the boys were gone and all unnatural noises had ceased, Brenner stepped out slowly from behind a large tree and softly exhaled. It was very satisfying to hurt that boy, but his real anger didn't lie with him, but with Eleven. It was easy to blame a certain Dr. Owens for everything involving her behavior, but that action of hers had been entirely solely her own. Not only had she deeply fractured his pride, but more so their close relationship. She had to be taught a lesson, but he was having trouble thinking of anything that was even remotely benign. ECT was at the forefront of his mind and Terry Ives flashed in his vision...

Like mother, like daughter.

But the way he had felt when he oversaw her brain being fried to the point of no return came back to him. The anger, of course, but more the raw disappointment was more evident. He hadn't wanted to hurt her to that point, if only she had cut her losses with their child and he could have spared her, for it had been last resort, but she had pushed too far... if only she had left him and the facility alone. They could have still accomplished more together if she hadn't done that silly rebellious act. She had been clearly mentally sick, similar to Eleven, but at least Eleven was only a child and her intelligence was minimal. She'd acted out, that was all, only another one of her infamous temper tantrums. It didn't mean a cause for extreme alarm or drastic actions. He'd smooth this over.

What a lie that was. Maybe he was losing his touch, but Sam was the one better at slithering through an issue and creating a concoction of non-involvement, or at least he was supposed to. It was why he'd been hired for the job in the first place, to be the company front man, so to speak. People were bound to trust him without much effort, but unfortunately that very effect had been rubbing off on Eleven and she was getting too clingy to that man for his comfort. She couldn't be that way with anyone other than her Papa... and he highly doubted this young Michael would be qualified to become a father so soon - to her. Brenner knew what a pubescent boy really wanted and he wasn't going to it, not from her. 

She can't grow up. She won't grow up. It's my responsibility to make sure that never happens.  

They had to work together, Papa and daughter, if this all was to succeed. Why couldn't she see that all he did - his life's work - was to help her and harness her gifts?

She deserved far, far worse and he would get around to spanking her for this, no doubt, but deprivation was his specialty when it came to truly punishing the child. He'd already done a matter of that previously, perhaps it hadn't been enough. What could he do? Ignoring and denying her had detrimental consequences in the form of outbursts, yet providing her attention and love was a reward she couldn't afford at the moment. Electroshock was looking better by the minute... at least then he'd get a docile patient who wouldn't have much ability to think about rebellion because there would be the equivalent of mush between her ears. 

No! Stop thinking like this. Get a hold of yourself! You're letting your emotions get the best of you. CONTROL. You still need her functioning and useful. She can't be a vegetable.

Brenner kicked a pinecone out of his way on the walk back out of the woods and towards the parking lot, his thoughts deepening. In different circumstances, he would get in his car and drive off somewhere to think, but he didn't have that option since permanently staking himself to this hospital. He was as much confined as Eleven was, so they had to function together and she had to know her place. Otherwise, there was no since in him staying around at all. 

8:00 PM

A slight figure wearing a Michael Myers mask and holding a large knife with a plastic orange pumpkin bucket jumped out suddenly behind a clump of bushes and the boys screamed out in surprise, with Mike nearly jolting out of his skin. His heart kicked into overdrive again for the second time today until the person yanked off the mask and he saw it to be that girl, Max, with her ginger hair swinging and she was laughing her ass off at their reactions.

"I scared the shit out of all of you! You should've seen the looks on your faces, especially YOU! And you scream like a girl!" she directed loudly with a wild laugh at Mike and Lucas, respectively, and Mike flushed, glancing away and slinging his sack of candy. He really wished Will was here and he felt even more depressed when Max joined them trick-or-treating to the delight of his friends, who seemed to be having a great time once they got over their fright and started laughing at themselves. But Mike couldn't do that and he was miffed this girl, who they barely knew, was infiltrating their Party that wasn't complete without Will... and El. He hoped Max wasn't going to be some kind of replacement for the two of them and he hated that his friends weren't listening to him.

"Nice costumes," Max commented as they headed for the wealthy Loch Nora neighborhood and Mike scowled at the slight sarcasm in her tone, which she must have realized as she continued (never mind the fact that they looked rather ridiculous with only three Ghostbusters instead of four members). 

"Seriously, I mean it. You guys are dedicated nerds, I kinda admire that, even when you get laughed at by practically the whole school. But you know, Ghostbusters wasn't really a scary movie at all, not when you compare it to Halloween." 

"She has a point there, man," Lucas said to Dustin and he shrugged. 

"Okay, so a fifty foot giant marshmallow man destroying New York City could be a little cartoonish, but the effects were awesome."

"Totally tubular..." Lucas drawled, making Max laugh. Mike, however, just rolled his eyes and moped along behind the them as they chattered and collected candy the rest of the entire time up and down streets until he was sick of it. Maybe Halloween was outgrowing them, like his parents and peers silently (or not so silently) pressured, or maybe he just wasn't in the mood this year. Whatever it was, he was done and he strode off, calling back over his shoulder to the others that he was going home. That wasn't true, though, and he cut across the street and walked along the side of the road until he came to Mirkwood. He prayed nobody would see him out here, but he kept hearing footsteps a ways behind him yet every time he'd glance back, no one was there. 

I'm being stupid and paranoid.

A sudden snap of a twig and a loud voice swearing made him whip around, holding out his flashlight like a weapon. He gasped and then sighed when he saw Dustin come blundering out from behind the trees fifteen feet away, along with Lucas and Max, who were chastising him for making noise and ruining their sneaking. 

"What the hell?! You guys are stalking me?" Mike shouted and Max shrugged.

"You did it to me first. Besides, we wanted to see where you were really going because unless you live in a shack in the woods, I'm assuming you're not going home."

"It was her idea," Lucas quickly blamed, pointing to Max when Mike gave his friends a death stare.

"So where are you going, Mike?" Dustin asked casually, trying to avoid confrontation.

"Nowhere," he grumbled and started walking further from them, but they caught up to him easily, pillowcases of candy rustling and thumping against their legs. Max snorted lightly at his response and he turned to glare at her.

"Nowhere? Oh, I've been there all my life. You know, tonight's actually been the best time I've had in this shithole since I got here and I'm not going to end it now," Max told him truthfully and Dustin glanced curiously at her.

"Yeah, but it's getting kind of late and aren't your parents going to wonder where you are?" 

Max laughed a brittle laugh that was as cold as the late October air.

"You think they really give a shit? My mom is probably drunk and my stepdad is someone I'd like to be as far away from as possible every night of the week. And Billy? Well, you know what he's like... He's a maniac, and on Halloween it's worse. He's off at some raging party, probably possessed or something."

"Oh," Lucas mumbled and stared down at his shoes as the others were quiet, their footsteps crunching on leaf litter.

They saw lights up ahead and Mike stopped in his tracks, abruptly telling Max to turn back and wait for them. She frowned in the dim moonlight, casting a glance around him. 

"What's up there?"

"Nothing, it's just an abandoned building that we're going to check out. It's super dangerous and unsafe. You should go home or wherever."

"If you think that scares me, you have zero idea." Max laughed again and Mike gritted his teeth. Lucas and Dustin were mouthing words and shaking their heads, but they knew it was probably not a good idea to leave her stranded on the side of a rather remote road in the dark on the spookiest night of the year, especially in a town that had quite a few spooky happenings already.

"Fine! C'mon then!" Mike shouted and took off at a run towards Hawkins Lab and he heard their pounding footsteps and crinkling of candy behind him all the way into the property, scrambling past security, who were half asleep. Max's eyes were wide as they entered the parking lot and she craned her head to stare up at the large ominous complex.

"Woah, what is this place? Doesn't look abandoned to me."

"Just follow me," Mike barked, striding to the front entrance, but stopped in his tracks at the twinge of PTSD. His heart began to hammer and he wondered if they would run into Dr. Brenner, the last person on earth he wanted to see right now. He felt Max bump up next to him and he recoiled away as though she had a disease, his signature scowl returning.

"What is it? Wait, don't tell me. Did someone get murdered in this building? Do you believe it's haunted?" she asked, almost excited, and he realized how unaware she was of the situations Hawkins Lab - and the bad people who worked here - had put others through. Mike couldn't fault her ignorance, but he wished she'd cool it a little; he'd never known a girl to be so outspoken, so brash. He felt like he was competing with her over dominance of the group and it frustrated him that she was butting in. Eleven wasn't like her.  

"Hey kids, what are you doing here so late?" A man's voice called out, startling all four of them and Mike turned to see Dr. Owens (sans lab coat) walking out from around one side of the building, keys jingling in his hands. He stopped before them, cocking his head slightly and surveying their attire.

"Trick or treating? I'm afraid you've come to the wrong place for that." He paused, gesturing at the boys' costumes.

"I just saw you guys in a movie. Who you gonna call? The Ghostbusters, right?" He grinned as they nodded and then his eyes settled on Max, raising his eyebrows. 

"Who's this?" 

Lucas started to speak, but Max wasn't about to let anyone speak for her. 

"I'm Max. Who are you?" 

"Dr. Owens, I work here at the, well, hospital."

"You call this a hospital? You gotta be kidding me, it doesn't look any hospital I've ever seen. Is it a nuthouse or criminal prison? Do you do, like, lobotomies and shit on people?"

Owens looked at the others for an explanation of this girl's behavior. Dustin fidgeted and answered unconfidently.

"Um, she's kind of new. We... we were just trick-or-treating together." 

He frowned and started to say something, but Mike cut in before he had the chance to reprimand them. 

"Can we come in and see Will, please?" Mike asked and Owens scowled further. 

"How about tomorrow during daylight hours?"

"We just wanted to bring him some candy 'cause we don't want him missing out on Halloween. Please?"

"Well... I guess for a half hour and no more," Owens gave in, checking the time on his watch and sighing.

"I should be getting home. Just check in with Susan at the front desk and kept an eye on your, uh, friend there." He nodded at Max and then hurried off to the scattered sprinkling of cars left in the parking lot. Max rolled her eyes, pulling Dustin and Lucas towards the building, Mike reluctantly following behind them.

"So who's Will and why is he at this totally-a-hospital place? Is he really sick or is he some kind of criminal?"

"No, he's not a crook and he's not crazy! He is sick, but it's complicated," Mike explained in annoyance and she squinted suspiciously.

"Complicated? What, is he like dying? Why isn't he at the regular hospital?"

All three boys exchanged expressions, realizing they either had to bullshit her completely on this or tell her the whole truth. Mike decided the latter was not an option and he made it crystal clear with his narrowed eyes that lying it was.

They walked in and Mike led the way to the front desk to see the receptionist, who was appearing tired, but her eyes grew wide at the sight of the group of kids. 

"Visiting hours are over," she told them firmly, gathering her things and standing up to leave her desk. 

"Dr. Owens gave us permission to see Will," Mike told her sincerely and she raised an eyebrow. 

"Did he now?" she muttered and quickly scrawled their names down on sticky name tags, handing the boys theirs. She gave Max an unfriendly glance. 

"That one isn't in our records and therefore is not authorized to be in here. She'll have to wait outside." 

"What do you think I am, a dog?" Max snapped, insulted.  

"Please, she's a... a friend of ours," Lucas told the secretary and she gave them all a long look.

"Alright, just this once and that's it. What's your name?" she asked shrewdly of the new girl and Lucas seemed relieved, although Mike wasn't sharing that sentiment. For all he cared, she could have waited outside.

Will doesn't even know her. 

"It's Max. Just Max." 

Susan gave her a name tag and told her to keep it stuck on shirt at all times and then she bid them goodnight, heading out to exit for the night. She called over to one of the guards on duty by the doors.

"Derek, make sure to see them out when they're done." 

"Yes, ma'am." 

Mike hurried off down the hall and to the elevator, not bothering to wait for his friends and Max. 

"Hey, hold up!" Dustin scrambled to reach the elevator before the doors closed, Lucas and Max piling into the small space after him and pressing Mike uncomfortably up against one wall. Lucas smacked the button to the fourth floor and they rose up steadily. 

"So Will isn't like himself, so maybe it'd be a good idea if you keep a distance," Dustin advised Max and she shrugged. 

"Okay, whatever. I don't even know him anyway." 

Exactly. You shouldn't even be here, Mike thought bitterly as the doors slid apart and they went straight down to Will's hospital room. 

He was awake and so was Joyce, who was reading a magazine she had from a stack of them given to her earlier today by Jonathan and Nancy, and was showing him the latest movie reviews. She looked up, startled to see the arrival and her heart cracked a bit at the sight of the boys in their Ghostbusters costumes and she wished Will could have joined them. 

"Hi, Ms. Byers. Hope you don't mind some extra company. This is Max, she's new to Hawkins and we were out trick or treating together until Mike wanted to stop by and drop off some candy," Dustin explained as they gathered around Will, dumping their pillowcases down on his bed. Joyce smiled at Max, who didn't return it, as she was staring at the shaven head, pale, gaunt boy with dark shadowed eyes.

He could have gone as a zombie tonight, she thought honestly.  

"Will, we brought you some of our loot," Mike announced, shaking out candy bars onto the sheets and Joyce started to reprimand them, mentioning that he wasn't holding down food well today, but then stopped, wanting to see if this would perk her son up. Sadly, there was little reaction on his part as he looked at the colorful spread dully. 

"Look, we've got Snickers, Hershey's, Mr. Goodbar, SweeTarts, a bunch of 3 Musketeers, and your favorite: Reese's Pieces," Mike told him earnestly, but Will didn't seem all that interested and he wouldn't even say a word. Mike tried to give him a Hershey's bar, but he refused extend his hand.  

"What's wrong with him?" Max whispered too loudly and Lucas pulled her away out the door as she protested.

"Seriously, what the hell? You can't tell me what's going on? There's something wrong about this."  

"Look, Will isn't normal," Lucas started seriously and she rolled her eyes. 

"Yeah, no shit Sherlock. But what is wrong with him? Does he have cancer?"

Lucas hesitated, unsure of what all to disclose to this girl they barely knew.

Meanwhile, back inside the room, Will poked at a few candy bars and then sat back, his eyes flat and uninterested.  

"Do you feel bad?" Dustin asked in concern and Will had no response. Mike swallowed and pushed a packet of Reese's Pieces into his palm. 

"Please, Will. Let us know you're here." 

The door banged open suddenly and Mike flinched. Lucas came in looking stricken. 

"Max ran off! We have to go after her!" 

"What did you do?!" Dustin exclaimed with a gasp.

"I told her some of the truth, but she wouldn't believe me! She thinks I'm - that we're nuts - and said she was going home, but it's late and we should make sure Billy or something doesn't find her out in the dark on the road!" 

"Okay, I'm coming. Mike?" 

He shook his head and ignored Lucas' pleading.

"C'mon, man, please? I don't want her to get accidentally hurt." 

"She can take care of herself." 

"Well, yeah, I guess so, but what if Billy comes for her and he's wasted? We should make sure she's safe."

"I DON'T CARE ABOUT THE STUPID GIRL!" Mike exploded, taking everyone in the room by surprise except for Will, who remained stoic. 

"GO! IF YOU DON'T CARE ABOUT WILL, THEN FINE! BUT I'M NOT LEAVING MY BEST FRIEND ALONE IN THIS STUPID LAB WHILE YOU GUYS GO OFF CHASING A GIRL WHO DOESN'T EVEN NEED OUR HELP!"

All his anger and fear leftover from his unexpected encounter with Brenner was bubbling over and he couldn't contain his frustration with his friends. Lucas looked as though he'd been slapped and then him and Dustin both exited with a muttered collective "sorry" as Mike closed his eyes, trying not to lose it.  

"You're hurting." Will's quiet voice suddenly spoke up and Mike blinked, staring at him. 

"I..." 

"I know what it's like to hurt," Will continued and Joyce glanced over at the beeping monitor that was starting to spike up. Will appeared strained and his fingers dug into the sheets, knocking some candy aside. 

"The hurt is inside me. I can't do this much any longer, it's too strong." 

"Sweetie, lie down, calm down," Joyce hushed him, stroking his head. 

"I-It wants to hurt. It's hurting..." Will choked out, against some invisible strain and Joyce tried to push him down gently, but his body violently spasmed away, his face moist with sweat. 

"What's hurting you? Is it the shadow monster? Is that what it is?" Mike demanded and Will cried out, his voice cracking. 

"I C-CAN'T! It's going to hurt... everyone!" 

"Can't what?! Will, what is it going to do?!" Mike panicked, attempting to touch him, but his friend then screamed and began to lash out, hands flinging out towards Mike and his mother, flailing profusely. Mike tumbled off his chair while Joyce hollered for help and momentarily, a few nurses came swarming into the room, bustling Mike out and he tried to fight against them, holding onto the door frame, but he was shoved out and the door slammed in his face. 

"NO! WILL? WILL! WILL!"

A security guard, the one identified as Derek, came quickly striding up the hall and Mike pounded on the door with his fists, tears stinging his eyes. He felt the guard grab him under his arms and start to drag him off, but Mike thrashed in protest, kicking his legs. 

"HEY! WHAT ABOUT WILL? I NEED TO SEE HIM!"

"You have to leave now," Derek told him firmly over Mike's yells and he wrestled him down the stairs and out to the lobby. Mike was abruptly tossed outside as though he was an unnecessary disturbance, and he swore, catching his fall with his hands and getting up, but there was no use fighting when ten more strong men were coming to the entrance. Mike took off down into the parking lot and off into the woods, letting himself cry freely now, no matter how much shame doing it made him feel. His dad always told him that guys aren't supposed to cry, but Will told him once it was okay to cry because otherwise his insides would be overflooded.

Mike ran through the trees, his heart galloping with him, and his mind racing with the memory of what Dr. Brenner had done to him in this area earlier and he stopped crying, a furiousness taking its place. This was all Brenner's fault... HE ruined everything! It was HIS fault that El was stuck, screwed up and traumatized, that they were losing Will, that the Demogorgon(s) had been unleashed, and that this town was never going to be the same. It was all HIS doing! Mike pummeled his way out of the woods and onto Mirkwood, sucking for air, and he heard a rumbling sound of a truck, but before he had time to dive into the ditch, he was blinded with bright floodlights.

Hopper skidded off the road to a stop and jumped out, brandishing his pistol as Mike yelled, covering his head. Hopper lowered it, swearing as he tucked it safely back into his holster.

"Jesus, kid, you almost gave me a heart attack. What the hell are you doing out here?!" Hopper exclaimed and Mike tried to catch his breath (and his own heart rate). 

"I... I-I just came back from-from the lab to see Will. What are you doing?"

"I was just over at the pumpkin farm. There's a problem and I think it has to do with what happened last year." Hopper glanced down, fiddling with a cigarette lighter, and Mike noticed there were smudges of dirt on his face and hands. 

"What is it? What did you find?" 

"Never mind. Let's get you home, it's not safe out here. Where are your friends?" 

"They already left to go home," Mike half-truthed, not wanting to launch into a whole explanation that included the Max girl. 

"Alright, well, get in. I'll drive you home."

Mike yanked open the side door to Hopper's truck and jumped into it, knowing Mom was going to freak out and throw a fit when she saw how late it was and interrogate him on why the Chief of Hawkins Police had to pick him up. This would be the end of Halloween for sure, the last year she'd let him do trick-or-treating. Too bad it hadn't been the night he was expecting, but it didn't matter. It was going to be Will's last year too if he didn't get any better.

"I can't lose him," Mike muttered to the window, too quiet for Hopper to hear as they softly rumbled along, pulling into Maple Street and Mike watched a few costumed stranglers - older kids - heading home and he hoped Dustin and Lucas would get back alright... and maybe ditch that girl, who wasn't worth the trouble, certainly not with that stepbrother of hers.