the ghost of will byers

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An indistinct whimpering crackled out of the walkie-talkie clutched in Eleven's hands. Alina, Dustin, Lucas and Mike sat cross-legged in front of her in the basement of Mike's house, listening carefully as Eleven fiddled with the walkie-talkie, trying to keep the signal, oblivious to their stares.

When Alina and Lucas had arrived, they hadn't been told what was happening, or why they'd been called over to talk about Will. Mike had, instead, unceremoniously shoved them down the stairs, telling them to listen as the walkie-talkie in Eleven's hands screeched. Dustin showed up a couple of minutes later, and they had listened in confusion for about ten minutes before the whining began, fading in for a couple of seconds before fading out again.

The whimpers stopped again now, and Mike turned to them excitedly. "We keep losing the signal," he said, "but you heard it, right?"

"Yeah," said Lucas with a sigh. "I heard a baby."

"What?"

"Mike, you obviously tapped in a baby monitor. It's probably the Blackburns' next door."

"Uh, did that sound like a baby to you?" Mike asked, his eyes full of desperation. "That was Will!"

"Mike," said Alina quietly. "Will's dead. All five of us saw his body last night. In the Quarry. I think you're grasping at straws because you want to believe Will's alive, but we all saw what we saw. Maybe... maybe you're just hearing what you want to hear."

Mike crossed his arms, glaring at her. "I'm not crazy! You two don't understand! He spoke last night! Words! He was singing that weird song he loves. Even El heard him!"

"Oh, well, if the weirdo heard him," Lucas scoffed, "then I guess—"

Dustin, who had been strangely quiet through this whole debate, finally spoke, brown eyes wide. There were signs of swelling around them from crying, and Alina felt a little twinge of guilt for not being there for him. While she was with Lucas, he must've been all alone. "Are you sure you're on the right channel?"

"Dustin, I don't think he had his walkie-talkie when he disappeared," said Alina. "There is no right channel. If there had been, he would've contacted you by now. He knew you all had one."

Mike shook his head. "Yeah, I don't think it's about that," he said thoughtfully. "I think, somehow, she's channelling him."

Lucas raised his eyebrows, exchanging a glance with Alina. Both of them couldn't believe what Mike was saying. He had slipped over the edge last night, but he was still trying to climb back up, to pretend that Will was still alive, that Will still needed their help. But the body had been identified as Will's. All of them had seen it with their own eyes.

It must be difficult to lose your best friend. But chasing after their ghost wouldn't do them any good.

Dustin, on the other hand, seemed to be buying into what Mike said. "Like... like Professor X," he gasped.

"Yeah!"

Lucas just shook his head. His hands, Alina noticed, were curled into fists, his teeth gritted. He didn't want to believe this, didn't want to have hope that Will was still alive. They'd had that same hope before finding his body, and that hope hadn't been real. If they risked it again, the devastation would crush them anew.

"Are you actually believing this crap?" Lucas snapped to Dustin.

"Guys, we all saw Will last night," said Alina. We know he's gone. Do you seriously think El has the ability to channel Will's ghost? Or was the body somehow not Will's? Seriously, just think about it for a minute."

"I don't know..." said Dustin hesitantly. "Do you remember—not you, Al, you weren't there, but Mike and Lucas—do you guys remember when Will fell off his bike and broke his finger? He sounded a lot like that."

"So that's all the proof you need?" Alina asked. "Look, I don't want to believe that Will's dead any more than the rest of you. But sometimes we just need to accept the truth, and mourn Will, like he deserves. Do you think he would want you to spend the rest of your lives chasing him? Acting like he's alive?"

"Al's right," said Lucas. "Did you guys not see what we saw? They pulled Will's body out of the water. He's dead!"

Dustin looked down. "Well, maybe it is his ghost," he suggested. "Maybe he's haunting us."

Alina let out a sigh. "That was a joke, Dustin. Ghosts aren't real. People who are dead stay dead."

"It's not his ghost." Mike spoke up. His jaw was trembling a little, his eyes darting from Alina to Lucas. In them, instead of desperation, she saw pleading. Mike was begging them to believe him, believe what he heard last night. But it was just... it was unbelievable. How could a twelve-year-old boy die but not die? How could...

No, that wasn't possible. There would be no reason to do that.

Lucas still wasn't fazed. "So how do you know that?" he asked Mike.

"I just do!" Mike squeezed his fists.

"Then what was in that water?!"

"I don't know! All I know is Will is alive. Will is alive! He's out there somewhere. All we have to do is find him."

"This is crazy," Alina shook her head, her curls brushing against her face. "If, by some miracle, Will is alive, how are we even supposed to find him? If what El said was true, then he's hiding somewhere. And you guys told me he was really good at hiding." She buried her head in her hands. "This is insane."

"I don't know how we're going to find Will," said Mike, "but first I need to prove it to you. Both of you." As another hissing of static emitting from the walkie-talkie, Mike took it from Eleven. "This isn't gonna work. We need to get El to a stronger radio."

Dustin's eyes lit up, and a small smile grew on his face. "Mr. Clarke's Heathkit ham shack."

"Mr. Clarke's what now?" Alina asked.

"It's a really strong radio," Dustin explained. "Mr. Clarke said we could contact all the way to Australia with it. It would be definitely strong enough to reach wherever Will is. If... if he's still out there."

"The Heathkit's at school," Lucas pointed out. "There is no way we're gonna get the weirdo in there without anyone noticing. I mean... look at her."

Alina, Dustin, and Mike all followed Lucas's gaze to Eleven. She wasn't exactly inconspicuous, considering her shaved head and boy's clothes, as well as the fact that she was on the run from bad men in Hawkins Lab. Lucas would be right. There would be no way that they wouldn't get caught using Mr. Clarke's shiny new radio.

After a quick planning session, it was decided that Eleven would need a makeover, a disguise in order for her to get into Hawkins Middle without detection. They needed makeup, clothes, and a wig to cover up her buzzed head. And, of course, that made Mike Wheeler think Alina should be in charge of the first one.

"You're doing makeup." There it was. The inevitable. Alina rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, staring down Mike. If looks could kill, Mike would have died around three times by now. Even Lucas and Dustin were shrinking away at her stare, and it wasn't even directed at them.

"Just because I'm a girl—" she began, before Mike, unwisely, interrupted her.

"Exactly! You're a girl, you do it. It's... it's ingrained into you."

"Hm, yes, I call bullshit. Don't be sexist, Michael. I don't even know how to put on foundation. I'm not doing El's makeup."

"Please?" Mike begged, his hands clasped before him in pleading. "You'll do a much better than me."

"I'll do it," began Alina, and when Mike smiled, grinned a cold smile herself and cocked an eyebrow, hand on one hip. "If you let me in the party."

"No! No way."

"Then the decision's made, Mike. Sorry. You're doing El's makeup."

Mike, in a last bout of desperation, stuck out his fist. "Rock, paper, scissors," he said. "Loser does the makeup."

Alina rolled her eyes and stuck her own fist out. The two of them bounced their fists and pulled scissors, then did it again and pulled paper. Mike was biting his lip, nervous, but Alina was confident. She cracked her knuckles. If El was to arrive at Hawkins Middle wearing makeup she applied, nobody would take her seriously. She'd end up looking like some kind of clown or something.

And besides, Alina didn't want to touch the makeup. She'd been forced to wear it many times as a child, hated the feeling of lipstick on her lips and mascara on her eyelashes. She would feel bad forcing it on Eleven, even though it was necessary for this scheme. Even if Will turned out to be truly dead, and it was pointless.

Alina pulled scissors again, and Mike pulled paper. "Best two out of three?" the boy asked, his eyes falling when he realized he'd lost.

"Nice try, Wheeler." Alina smiled, and began to follow Lucas and Dustin, who had been watching this entire argument with wide eyes. While, Mike went off with the makeup kit to Nancy's room, grumbling to himself, Eleven trailing behind him like a puppy, Alina high-fived Lucas and Dustin and headed downstairs, where they would be searching for a proper outfit for Eleven.

They searched through a couple of boxes of Nancy's old clothes. Originally, Dustin had asked Alina if any of her clothes would work, but Alina had turned that idea down. All of her clothes now were several sizes too big for Eleven and came in one of two forms—a t-shirt or jeans.

So Nancy's clothes it was.

While Lucas found a pink dress that seemed about Eleven's size, and Dustin pulled out a blonde wig that was miraculously still in good condition, Alina dug through the boxes to find sneakers and socks for Eleven, all of them rejecting the idea that she should wear heels. When she arrived back, she found Dustin wearing the blonde wig and Lucas sizing up the dress on himself.

It made her laugh. "You two are such dorks," she said. "Now, come on. Let's see how Eleven turns out."

While Eleven changed into the clothing and wig privately, Alina tapped Dustin's shoulder. She still felt bad for letting him cry by himself today, and she had recently realized that she actually didn't know Dustin that well. Not as well as the others. She'd never even talked to him alone.

"Oh," said Dustin, after turning around. "Hey, Al. How do you think Eleven will turn out?"

Alina shrugged. "I don't think Mike's a makeup artist," she said, "but hopefully she at least looks somewhat presentable. But that's not what I wanted to talk to you about. I just wanted... Lucas invited me over this morning."

"Yeah," said Dustin. "I figured as much."

"Well, I don't know, I guess I feel bad for leaving you alone. I don't really know much about friends, but I think that they should... they should comfort each other. They should talk to each other. I'm sorry if you were alone."

Dustin just smiled. "Al. It's okay. I forgive you. You don't even need to apologize. Sometimes the best thing a friend can do is leave them alone. You don't need to be there for them every second, unless you know they need it. What I needed today, and last night, was to be alone with my thoughts. But... but thank you. Thanks for worrying about me." His smile was bigger now. "You're really cool, Al."

"You too. You're really cool too."

Just then, the door to Nancy's room opened and out came Eleven. The pink dress fit her nicely, and the blonde wig did as well, as if Alina didn't know she was wearing one, she would've thought it was her natural hair. Mike had surprisingly done a decent job on Eleven's makeup—better than Alina had expected, at least, which made her happier about the fact that he had been the one to do it.

Eleven looked... passable. Normal. And... pretty.

"Wow," said Dustin, impressed. "She looks—"

"Pretty," said Mike, and when the others stared at him, eyebrows raised, added "Good. You look pretty good."

Nobody was fooled.

Alina and Mike followed Eleven as she stood at the mirror, gazing at herself. For a few moments, she was quiet, before she whispered "Pretty." There was a soft smile on her face at the sight of herself in the mirror. "Good."

"Don't listen to Mike," said Alina, putting a hand on her friend's shoulder, just like the first night they'd spoken. Unlike the time she'd done it in the treehouse, however, Eleven didn't flinch away at Alina's touch. She trusted Alina now. "You look really pretty," Alina added. "Even without all of this."

Eleven turned away from the mirror and faced Alina. "Thank you," she said, then pointed at her. "Pretty, too."

Alina couldn't hide the smile that came to her face at that. It was something she'd never, ever been called before. She slipped her hand into Eleven's. "Thank you," she said, squeezing Eleven's hand. "Are you ready?"

Eleven nodded, smiling. "Ready."

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