IT WASN'T KEVIN'S IDEA to go to the Roane County Fair.

        Perhaps a week ago, he would've entertained going even if it presented an obvious ploy for Mayor Larry Kline's re-election campaign. The sky would've been bedazzled with fireworks, beautiful to the eye but would likely prompt him to cover his ears until they subsided. He and Amara would arrive together after their one day of freedom from work, but she'd eventually get dragged away by her friends while he'd be left alone. He'd be perfectly content, elated that his sister now had such wonderful individuals in her life but dismayed that his friends and girlfriend weren't there to celebrate the Fourth of July with him.

        With the world ending for the third consecutive time, Kevin was convinced that their companions would be anywhere but the Fun Fair. But as it goes, Hopper refused to listen to reason and now he, Murray, and Alexei were stuck waiting in the parking lot for him and Joyce to inevitably return empty-handed. And yes, Hopper had insisted that Kevin remain in the car for logic unbeknownst to him.

        (As for Murray, it made more sense. He had implied that Joyce and Hopper should have sex after all)

        "What are you guys saying now?" Kevin pivoted to face Murray and Alexei, who had migrated to the trunk of the canary yellow convertible that would've landed Hopper in jail for grand theft auto if he wasn't the Chief of Police. They were going over the plans for how to disable the machine as he had instructed, and Kevin felt useless just sitting there while his compatriots either searched for kids they wouldn't find or conversed in a language he couldn't comprehend.

        "He's asking me if I want to turn off the machine or explode it," Murray relayed. While he and Kevin hadn't had the chance to talk much over the last few days, Murray couldn't help but scrutinize him in secret. He struck him as someone out of his element alongside two adults who couldn't recognize their attraction for one another, caught up with worry for a sister he couldn't contact. That was the most intriguing part, for unlike Murray's past clients it wasn't a romantic relationship that was troubling Kevin.

        "Explode, obviously," Kevin replied. "Otherwise the Russians can just turn it back on, right?"

        "Exactly what I was thinking," Murray grinned, standing up. "Now come on, let's go have some fun."

        "Wait, we're going in?" Kevin questioned, narrowing his eyes. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

        "Hey, it can't be any better than waiting out here like sitting ducks for the lovebirds to return," Murray extrapolated. He'd coined Joyce and Hopper with that term following their very inappropriate for children conversation that had resulted in him and Alexei chortling for a good five minutes afterward, Hopper's face turning redder than a tomato if that was even possible, and Kevin wishing he was anywhere but there. "If you're correct in assuming that they're wasting their time looking for the kids – which I'm sure you are, then we shouldn't have to waste our time."

        "Okay, fine," Kevin capitulated, exiting the car and shutting the door behind him. "I could use a hot dog right now."

        Murray clapped his shoulder, leading him in the direction of the entrance. "That's the spirit!"

        The fairgrounds were bustling with townspeople, some of whom Kevin suspected had protested in front of Mayor Kline's office at least once. If that was the case, either Kline assumed that the citizens of Hawkins who would remember the fun they experienced on the Fourth of July outnumbered those who held animosity for him due to the jobs they'd lost, or enough people were willing to put aside whatever grievances they had and enjoy the fair in spite of him. But having seen firsthand evidence of his dealings with the Russians and that he was the indirect cause of the gate being reopened, Kevin would definitely be voting against him come November.

        "Это не может быть более американским, чем это, мой друг," Murray told Alexei as they and Kevin made their way through the crowd, the bespectacled man gazing around in awe. "Жирная пища, уродливый декаданс, фальсифицированные игры... " he dug into his wallet upon reaching the ticket booth, handing the cashier ten dollars. "Fifteen tickets, please," he requested, switching to English.

        As Murray waited for the attendant to process his order, explaining something in Russian to Alexei, Kevin observed the arena, or rather the innumerable fairgoers in attendance. There was no flash of burnt sienna or mismatched clothes that signified Amara's presence, not that he expected her to be there. Knowing his sister, she wouldn't rest until she got to the bottom of the Rusian transmission she was dissecting, even if it meant missing the biggest event of the summer, and they were wasting time when there was a high probability that she was in peril.

        He came back to reality when Murray handed a strip of tickets to Alexei and made to journey to the food stands. Clearly it wasn't what Alexei had been expecting either, for he asked, "Куда ты идешь?"

        "Чтобы достать нам самое близкое к еде, что я смогу найти," Murray replied before turning to Kevin. "The food's this way, if you can even call it that."

        "Shouldn't we stick together?" Kevin reasoned before they could split up completely. "I hate to sound dramatic, but splitting up is the number-one mistake people make in horror movies, and we're basically in a horror movie."

        "He'll be fine shooting his shot against the rigged game industry," Murray insisted, something he'd later regret entirely. But he had no way of reading the future or the consequences that came with it; had they been aware that Kline had caught sight of Hopper and called the Russians for backup they would've sought him and Joyce out as soon as possible, they would've gotten the hell out of there, and perhaps Kevin would've been able to convince them to go to the mall next, but they had no way of knowing that these were the last minutes of Alexei's life. "C'mon, I'm starving."

        With that, Kevin followed Murray into the crowd, glancing over his shoulder until Alexei was no longer in view. It was peculiar how much his and the other's opinion of him had shifted over the course of a few days – all it had taken was a strawberry slurpee and a reminder that he was as good as dead if he crawled back to his old comrades, which indicated he had never fully supported their cause to begin with. He was so much more than the enemy of the state they had presumed him to be, and Kevin hoped that he'd find his place in America once they'd closed the gate again.

        "Rigged games, huh?" Kevin reiterated once they reached the line for one of the food stands. "Did you tell him this whole fair's rigged to get people to vote for Kline in November?"

        "Is that so? Always the classic sign of a politician who knows they're screwed if the people have a say," Murray mused, his journalistic instinct shining through. "What'd he do that made him pull this desperate stunt?"

        "People blame him for promoting the mall and costing them their jobs," Kevin explained. "I work at Melvald's with Joyce, and we barely get customers anymore because of it. I wasn't planning on voting for Kline even before we found out he was letting the Russians operate under his nose."

        "A wise choice, my friend," Murray flashed Kevin a grin. "I have to say though, it doesn't look like most people here share your intellect. If Kline really wins because of a Fourth of July fair I'm losing all hope in this godforsaken town."

        "Then I'll make it my mission after this to expose him," Kevin decided. Before Murray could argue that the odds were stacked against him Kevin continued, "You helped release the tape that shut the lab down, right? Maybe we could do the same thing here – water it down by exposing him for... sexual misconduct or something. I overheard Hopper tell him he caught him cheating on his wife with his secretary."

        "You must be a journalism major then," Murray concluded, to which Kevin nodded. "And I suppose you know the full truth about what happened in regard to the lab closing?"

        "Yeah, I do," Kevin replied. They were slowly but surely nearing the front of the line for food. "Back when Joyce's son disappeared I noticed my sister was acting weird, so I bribed the truth out of her. I know everything that's been going on from the beginning but I've never been involved until now. And if I am then she has to be too, and she's definitely not here. But Hopper won't listen to me after I yelled at him the other day for being a douche."

        Kevin let out a sigh and checked his watch. It was well after nine, which meant Eurydice and Scott would be arriving in less than four hours based on their landing time and the distance between Indianapolis and Hawkins, and the five of them were nowhere nearer to closing the gate before they returned unknowing to everything that had transpired in the past week. Coming here had gained them nothing other than greasy food and false leads, and the worst part was that he knew where his sister was and felt culpable if she died because he wasn't there.

        When Kevin faced Murray again the man was observing him thoughtfully behind his glasses. "You're analyzing me, aren't you?" Kevin theorized, quirking a brow. "I know that look, my girlfriend tells me it's my resting face."

        "Indeed I am, but based on how Jim reacted I don't find it wise to do the same with you," Murray inferred, shaking his head as he recalled Hopper's reaction. "People I analyze tend to want to shoot me in the face afterward."

        "No, go ahead," Kevin chuckled. Unlike Joyce and Hopper, who Murray had humiliated to the point of refusing to admit that he was right about their sexual tension as though to retain the last of their pride, he had far less to lose. "I won't mind."

        "Okay, then," Murray said, facing Kevin fully. "From what I can tell, you're in a stable romantic relationship – which granted is a relief after all the oblivious idiots I've dealt with in my lifetime. The only issue is that she isn't aware of any of this, which could cause a strain in the future if you aren't careful enough. But the real problem here is your sister."

        "What about Amara?" Kevin inquired, trying his hardest to rid trepidations of his relationship with Ximena deteriorating due to an evil she was unaware of. It hadn't posed a hardship in the five months they'd been dating, but that was because he'd assumed the supernatural world was gone for good. He had no plans to tell her the truth when she lived far away enough to remain safe, but it was something he'd eventually have to confront.

        "Not her specifically, but your relationship with her," Murray elaborated, grateful that Kevin hadn't expressed any sign of anger or discomfort at his bluntness. But if Kevin was used to anything from having Amara as a sister, it was a lack of sugarcoating. "If I'm guessing correctly, you're the older sibling, and therefore you have a natural instinct to protect her. But it's more than just that – she probably hasn't had it easy growing up, and even if your parents are good at their jobs, which they seem to be, because they don't know about all of this you feel responsible for keeping her safe. And now that you know where she is but Jim's running around in circles like an idiot, you feel like it's your fault if she's in danger."

        "You basically hit the nail on the head," Kevin articulated, in awe of the accuracy of Murray's analysis. As for Murray, he was stunned by the first reaction in which someone agreed with him. "She's perfectly capable of looking after herself, but she can be pretty impulsive sometimes," Kevin continued. "I've always been the one to keep her from doing anything too rash."

        "Maybe it doesn't have to be you, though," Murray proposed, reaching for his wallet as they finally approached the counter. "If your sister has friends that care about her safety maybe you won't have to worry yourself sick every time this sort of thing happens." Upon noticing that the cashier was waiting expectantly for his order Murray jolted, composing himself, "Oh! Two corn dogs and one regular hot dog, please."

        They were left to wait on their purchases, and Kevin mulled over Murray's advice. It was innate for him to agonize over Amara's safety when she not only had a diagnosis that compelled society to shun her but was entangled in a world of parallel dimensions and shadowy monsters and their parents weren't aware. Even so, she bore solid friends as a result who while were similarly reckless Kevin trusted to keep her safe. He couldn't rely on Steve or Robin to stop Amara from acting on her whims but he could count on them to be with her every step of the way, and maybe that was enough.

        "Murray!"

        Approaching the aforementioned man and Kevin was none other than Alexei, a plushie of Woody Woodpecker in his grasp and a wide grin to match. "Смотри! Это не подстроено!" he exclaimed, gesturing to the prize he'd succeeded in winning despite Murray's claim that the games were designed for players to lose.

        "Ah!" Murray was impressed as well that their unlikely friend had managed to defy the odds, imitating Woody Woodpecker's signature laugh in response.

        "What'd he say?" Kevin queried, carefully prying his hot dog from Murray and ensuring he didn't let slip the corn dogs he'd bought for himself and Alexei.

        "He says it's not rigged," Murray translated. Alexei was absolutely gleeful, sauntering in their direction without a care in the world. "I'll be damned, Reid. Maybe your plan's not such a longshot if Alexei can win a game rigged against him."

        "Or maybe neither is as impossible as you think," Kevin contended, motioning at the numerous fairgoers with prizes in their grip. "I guarantee you Kline's going to be out of a job soon, just watch."

        But they had more pressing matters than rigged games or corrupt politicians. In the blink of an eye, a burly man Kevin deciphered to be the fake Terminator had strode up to Alexei and shot him, the action subtle enough that nobody other than himself and Murray took notice. The plushie fell to the ground as a scarlet stain blossomed from where the bullet had embedded itself into Alexei's torso, his movements increasingly unstable and vision obfuscating. Murray and Kevin wasted no second in discarding the food they'd waited so long in line for, catching their friend before he could fall.

        "Alexei!" The two of them seized Alexei's arms and flung them over their shoulders, leading him away from the populace. His breathing was becoming increasingly labored, his skin paling as he lost more blood and Kevin felt a wave of guilt crash over him at the thought that he could've prevented this. He was acquainted with the individuals who'd lost their lives at the hands of the Upside Down and were subsequently forgotten, like Barbara Holland and Bob Newby, but this was different from some mindless beast – the hitman had shot Alexei in cold blood.

        Murray and Kevin guided Alexei to a fissure between two booths, setting him on the ground carefully. He was bleeding profusely, his face screwed up in pain; Murray removed his jacket and pressed it to the wound, stymying the blood flow to the best of his abilities. Coming here had gained them nothing other than greasy food and false leads and the very real possibility that they would lose one of their own.

        "You know there's bound to be more than just him, right?" Kevin brought up with sound reasoning. "It's no coincidence that that guy was here of all places – if Kline's really collaborating with the Russians he must've sent him here."

        "Shit, we gotta go," Murray breathed, though he made no move from where he was attempting to aid Alexei. "Go round up the others. Go! Now!"

        Kevin did as he was told, scrambling to his feet and bolting back into the crowd. He weaved in and out of passersby, all of whom had the luxury of being oblivious to the atrocity that had occurred just outside of their field of view. He was so frantic in his search for Joyce and Hopper that he almost ran headlong into a cluster of girls with permed hair and tanned skin, dodging them just in time.

        "Watch it, asshole!" one of them reacted, her voice laced with vexation.

        "Sorry!" Kevin hollered back, disappearing into the masses.

        Among the group was a dark-skinned girl adorned in a summer dress with braided hair trailing down her back. Like her friends, she was enjoying the Fun Fair even if the Fourth of July held a different meaning for her, indulging herself in rides that had left her stumbling against the uneven ground afterward and sweets that would undoubtedly give her a stomachache the following day. But there was something nagging at her that she didn't mention to her companions out of fear that she was overreacting – amid the kaleidoscope of colors bombarding her vision, she had just taken notice that her father was nowhere in sight.

ONCE THE GLOW OF AMARA and Steve finally admitting their feelings to each other had subsided, they and the others remembered that they still had a mall they needed to escape. By now the showing of Back to the Future had ended as signified by the ever-increasing volume of townspeople streaming out of the mall, enthusing about the movie and providing the five Russian base escapees the cover they needed from the watchful eyes of the aforementioned Russians. Dustin pried open the bathroom door with a faint creak, weighing the best opportunity for them to join in.

        "And... blend." The quintet plunged into the crowd, the only factors distinguishing them from the other moviegoers being the ridiculous outfits the Scoops Ahoy employees were sporting and the injuries garnishing Steve's complexion – none of which anyone else had caught sight of, as the majority of Hawkins residents were notorious for turning a blind eye to anything remotely unusual.

        "Well, shit, that worked," Erica remarked to Dustin, shooting him an impressed grin.

        "Course it worked," Dustin shot back, beaming at his own genius. "Now we just need to leave the mall with these plebes, sneak off to Amara's car, and home sweet home, here we come."

        Before Amara could ask Dustin if he'd managed to reach any of their friends Steve spoke up warily, "Uh, Dustin?"

        "What?"

        "Yeah, we might not want to go to your house," Steve drew out, aware that Dustin wouldn't take kindly to what he was about to reveal.

        Dustin raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

        "Well," Steve mumbled, wishing that Dustin not looking at him at that particular moment made his predicament any easier. It took Amara giving him a reassuring smile for him to come clean about the slip-up even Robin in her drugged state had warned him not to utter. "I might've told them your full name."

        Dustin's eyes widened in horror, the very reaction Steve had been dreading. "What is wrong with you?" he hissed, scowling at his friend.

        "Dude, I was drugged," Steve retorted, flushing with embarrassment. He almost wished he hadn't said anything and that Amara – who he hadn't divulged the identity of to the Russians – would drive anywhere than Dustin's house, but it was too late for him to retract anything.

        "So?" Dustin questioned, never having been under the influence of drugs to comprehend that they altered the mind enough for individuals to disclose information they wouldn't in their right mind; not that Erica and Amara ever had either, but they were far more empathetic in part because they weren't the ones who had to pay the price for Steve's blunder.

        "So?"

        "So you resist," Dustin persisted, also not grasping that they had four other houses available for them to take refuge in. "You tough it out. You tough it out like a man."

        "It's okay Dustin, we can just go to my place. There's a chance my parents aren't back yet," Amara cut across before Dustin and Steve could bicker any further. Even if she wasn't dealing with the aftermath of the drugs in the form of a raging headache Dustin alone was giving her one. A thought occurred to her and she pivoted to face Steve. "Wait, you didn't tell them my name, did you?"

        "No, I didn't," Steve assured her. Truth be told he'd come very close to doing so but had blurted Dustin's name at the last minute. "See, Henderson? Problem solved," he drawled, silently daring Dustin to argue his point further.

        "You two don't need to defend each other every second of the goddamn day, y'know?" Dustin articulated instead, pretending to gag. It was Amara's turn to raise her eyebrows; if it really was true that Dustin had teased Steve relentlessly she was amazed that he hadn't given anything away in front of her until now, especially when he had a knack for being unable to keep his mouth shut. "I swear to God it makes me sick – "

        "Guys?" Robin stopped in her tracks, taking hold of Dustin's shoulder before the Russian soldiers posing as security guards could spot them, and Amara quickly did the same with Erica. It was a factor none of them had considered, and to everyone else they were nothing more than guards performing their nightly duties by securing the mall from thieves, no trace of a Russian accent in their voices.

        "Abort," Dustin rasped but it was too late, for their cover had already been blown. "Abort. Abort!"

        The five of them sprinted in the direction from whence they came, and Amara knew without looking that the guards were hot on their trail. They couldn't fight their way through the throng of people still exiting the mall, and the escalators were already roped off for the evening. Thinking quickly, they wedged themselves between the two escalators and slid down to the lower level, praying that the Russians had lost them in the crowd but knowing deep down that it was only a matter of time before they were found and killed on sight.

        They'd bought themselves enough time to obscure themselves once again, but it was a futile effort when there were only so many places available for them to hide and no exits the Russians weren't patrolling. They wordlessly settled on the Great Cookie, Amara helping Erica to scale the counter before hopping over it herself and ducking out of sight. Within time all five of them were tucked behind the counter and effectively trapped after myriad instances of sheer dumb luck. The Russians always seemed to be one step ahead of them.

        Amara didn't have the heart to probe Dustin about his endeavor to enlist their friends for help, cognizant that it would only speed up the process of the Russians tracking them down. She almost wished she'd kept ahold of the cattle prod she'd left behind in her haste to rescue Steve and Robin – killing a second time couldn't be any worse than the first, and she wouldn't feel as guilty if it was in self-defense. But they were cornered if the footsteps drawing closer to them were any indication, and the chocolate chip containers near Erica hardly qualified as a weapon.

        So this was how she was going to die. After years of ingraining it into her mind that she could never succeed or belong in a world where conformity reigned supreme, of risking her life countless times as if it would make others realize her worth, of conceding that she didn't need to endanger herself for people to value her, this was where it all ended. The cycle of the Upside Down invading Hawkins would continue long after Amara had learned to accept herself, because monsters from an alternate dimension didn't stop striking their town just because a teenage girl finally decided that her opinion of herself mattered the most. She'd think after all this time she'd be ready, but she wasn't. She didn't want to die.

        The guards were closer than ever by now. Screwing her eyes shut, Amara extended her hand and tangled her shaking fingers with Steve's equally trembling ones. They steadied a fraction at her touch, squeezing hers tightly in response.

        The next noise to greet her ears wasn't the safety of a gun being removed and accompanied by the cold metal of a barrel being pressed to her cranium, but the blaring of a car alarm. Amara jolted but made no move to reveal herself and the others, only allowing herself to feel the tiniest bud of hope that she'd survive once again. The alarm only ceased when it was replaced by the breakage of wood and the groans of what she hoped were the Russians, concluding with the shattering of glass and the hissing of steam. Only then did Amara and the others poke their heads out from behind the counter, eyes widening at the sight of the blood pooling around the dead soldiers and the mangled display car that had taken them out.

        Only one person could make a car move like that. A glance in the opposite direction and there Eleven was on the second floor, flanked by the rest of the friends they hadn't seen in almost a week and had briefly anticipated would never see again. They'd heeded Dustin's call for help and thus saved their lives, and Amara hoped that her relief was tangible enough for them to grasp how grateful she was. Without wasting another second the five of them leaped over the counter to meet the others, dodging the bodies at their feet.

        "You flung that thing like a Hot Wheel!" Dustin exclaimed, embracing Eleven and Mike, who was supporting her. Meanwhile, Lucas had approached Erica and was probing her about how she managed to get roped in while she was proven right about him being involved (which Dustin just had to smirk at her for once he'd pulled away from his friends), and Will and Max ran over to Amara, solace evident in their countenances.

        "Thank goodness you're safe, we've been calling you guys like crazy," Will breathed, unexpectedly catching Amara in a hug that she didn't anticipate but nonetheless welcomed. He had had it particularly rough over the past week of his friends abandoning him and the resurgence of the force that had held him hostage, coupled with the fear that their companions had fallen victim to the monster they were up against. "We – we thought you'd become one of them."

        "I'm sorry, one of what?" Amara furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, drawing back. From there she had a better view of her compatriots, or rather just how haunted they all appeared. What had they gone through while she'd been trapped underground for days on end?

        "Oh God... you don't know?" Max spoke this time. She had minimal physical injuries but the bags under her eyes could easily pass for bruises; she looked as though she'd been forced to relinquish her girlhood in a matter of days, a harsh contrast from the upbeat teen with the world at her feet who had shown Eleven all the mall had to offer when she had known nothing but slate white walls and the metallic twang of blood. She looked like a ghost.

        Before Amara could comment any further Robin piped up with one of her own, "I don't understand what happened to that car." She felt like an outsider among the unconsolidated circle of monster fighters who all knew each other in some shape or form – even Erica, who also hadn't been entangled before now, was familiar with most of them through her brother. The only connections Robin had to them were the stories she'd heard from Amara, and she was half inclined to shrink into herself out of fear of being judged.

        "Remember that girl with superpowers I told you about?" Amara flew to Robin's aid, gesturing a finger at where Eleven was still leaning against Mike. "That's her. She moved it with her mind."

        "Oh, that girl!" Robin enthused, her love for comic books shining through as her anxiety momentarily quelled. "That's so cool – is she like Professor X or something? Throwing a car telepathically's like, totally something Professor X would do – "

        "I'm sorry, who are you?" Nancy queried, and just like that Robin's nerves reignited.

        "I'm Robin. I work with Steve and Amara," she stammered, almost preferring when it was just the three of them in the bathroom, shut away from the rest of the world. With everyone coming together after zero to no communication, attempting to catch each other up on all that they'd missed she almost wanted to excuse herself and hope that the only two people in the world she trusted would follow.

        "She and Amara cracked the top secret code – "

        " – Yeah, which is how we found out about the Russians in the first place – "

        "Russians?" Jonathan interrupted Steve, wanting to make sure he'd heard correctly. "Wait, what Russians?"

        "Those guys, plus hundreds more," Amara clarified, motioning at the lifeless men scattered across the waxed floor. She felt guilty about their lack of contact but like Robin was growing weary when they still needed to formulate a plan to close the gate. "They've infiltrated Hawkins – that's why we've been gone so long. We were trapped."

        "Those were Russians?" Max's eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets.

        "Some of them," Erica shrugged, surprisingly nonchalant for someone who'd nearly been killed by said Russians. Perhaps it was because she trusted any of her friends to sacrifice themselves first.

        "What are you talking about?" Lucas interrogated his sister, not comprehending the full scope of their situation.

        "Didn't you hear our code red?" Dustin questioned, bemused why none of them understood what was going on when they'd come to their rescue.

        "Yeah. Couldn't understand half of what you were saying," Mike elucidated.

        "Goddamn low battery."

        "How many times do I have to tell you with the low battery?" Steve admonished Dustin, brandishing his hands as his anxiety too spiked – all of them seriously needed therapy if they were lucky enough to survive yet again. He didn't want to fathom what would have become of him and his friends if Dustin's walkie-talkie battery had been any lower.

        "Well, everything worked out, didn't it Steve?" Dustin retorted, narrowing his eyes.

        "Worked out?" Erica turned on Dustin, reminding him of their very recent near-miss. "We almost died."

        "Yeah, but we didn't, did we?"

"It was pretty damn close," Steve pointed out; this time it was Erica's turn to smirk at Dustin, at which he scowled.

        "Okay, Russians?" Lucas attempted to bring the subject back to the matter at hand, doing his best to wrap his head around everything he'd heard in the last few minutes. "As in, they're working for the Russian government?"

        "What are you not comprehending?" Dustin wasn't exactly helping matters. "Am I not speaking English? We have a full-blown Red Dawn situation."

        "So this has nothing to do with the gate?" Max inquired, recalling the clearest segment of information Mike had managed to pick up from Dustin's botched communication – that the whole reason the Mind Flayer was back was because the gate was open again.

        "It has everything to do with the gate," Amara answered, her voice solemn. "This whole mall's just a front for some Russian Death Star – "

        There was a sickening thump as Eleven, who had been slowly limping away from the group while they'd been preoccupied with bringing each other up to speed, collapsed to the ground with a pained yelp. It was enough for everyone to break up their squabbling and redirect their focus to the telekinetic girl – as important as it was that they close the gate as soon as possible, she needed immediate help.

        "El! El!" Mike was the first to rush over to her, gently turning her over so she was fully on her back. Her skin was worryingly pale, a telltale sign she'd lost a lot of blood. "What's wrong?"

        "My leg. My leg," Eleven whimpered, her face contorted with discomfort and glistening with sweat. By now everyone had gathered around her with similar reactions of worry and confusion, careful not to get too close to her.

        "Her leg, her leg. Okay," Jonathan was surprisingly collected amid a cluster of individuals too paralyzed to even move. He and Nancy gently unraveled a blood-soaked bandage on her leg that Amara hadn't detected until now, exposing a festering wound, a tender red and oozing with blood. Everyone cringed upon seeing it, and Amara questioned what the others had been through for Eleven to end up with an injury of that nature. And that wasn't the worst of it; an ephemeral movement beneath her skin that caused her to wail in agony indicated that there was something in there.

        "El! El! Are you okay?" Mike panicked but Eleven was unresponsive, too consumed with pain to emit anything other than noises of distress. The onlookers observed as the entity thrashed more violently, hellbent on terrorizing its host; Amara's heartbeat increased tenfold when Eleven elicited a guttural scream that reverberated around the abandoned mall, instinctively clamping her hands over her ears.

        "What is that?" Erica interrogated, not bothering to hide her revulsion as she peered at the wound. It was a valid question though, as Amara was wondering that herself.

        "There's something in there," Mike hastily responded. His fingers were white from how intensely Eleven was clutching them, still sobbing in pain. Amara wracked her mind for anything they could do to aid her but found nothing; she hated feeling helpless when all of them sitting around clearly wasn't solving anything, but she'd never tended to wounds involving a moving creature and feared that she'd only make things worse.

        Jonathan was the first to spring into action, acknowledging that no matter how foolhardy his idea was that they needed to extract whatever was inside Eleven's leg. "Keep her talking. Keep her awake, okay?" he instructed before springing himself upright and bolting in the direction of Teppanyaki while the others were left to look after Eleven. Amara cast a glance at Robin who stood several feet away from the rest of them – no matter how peculiar Eleven's injury was Amara was far more accustomed to those types of wounds, and she had a suspicion that Robin didn't know how to react.

        Upon noticing that Eleven had quieted down Mike carefully shook her, "Hey, hey, hey. Stay awake, stay awake," he turned to face the closest person to him, which happened to be Dustin. "Let's get her on this side. On this side." With assistance from him, Steve, and Amara, they maneuvered Eleven so she was in a more comfortable position, or at least as comfortable as she could possibly be right now.

        "It's uh... you know, it's not actually that bad," Robin blurted before she could stop herself, unsure of what to say before realizing too late that she didn't have to say anything. "There was a... the goalie on my soccer team, Beth Wildfire, this other girl slid into her leg, and like, the whole bone came out of her knee, six inches or something, it was insane." Everyone glared at Robin for making the situation worse – other than Amara, who recognized that she might have said something similar had she been in her best friend's position.

        "Hey, it's okay. It's okay," Amara rose to her feet, taking hold of one of Robin's hands and trying to comfort her the best she could. "She's gonna be fine, I promise." Robin smiled gratefully and Steve felt awful for almost telling her that she wasn't helping when it would've only embarrassed her further – the type of thing he might've said to Amara if he wasn't aware of her autism. Even now, a part of him still felt like he didn't deserve her.

        Jonathan reappeared shortly thereafter with a silver knife and a wooden spoon, and Amara felt queasy knowing what would ensue. She motioned for Erica to hide behind her which she did almost too gratefully, having witnessed far too much in the last few days for someone her age even if she didn't want to admit it. Mike and Dustin braced Eleven so she was inclined above the ground slightly, anticipating her clinging to them.

        "Okay. All right, El?" Jonathan coaxed himself just as much as Eleven, contesting whether or not he should proceed. "This is gonna hurt like hell, okay?"

        "Okay," Eleven sobbed, preparing herself for more pain than she'd already experienced so far. Her eyes were glassy with tears.

        "Need you to stay real still," Jonathan continued, slipping on a pair of latex gloves. "Here, you're gonna want to bite down on this, okay?" He handed the wooden spoon to Mike, who secured it between Eleven's teeth, keeping a firm grip on her shoulders.

        "Jesus Christ," Dustin breathed as Jonathan brought the knife closer to the pulsating wound, his movements hesitant as he wondered whether he was doing the right thing. But what other options did they have at their disposal? "Holy shit, holy shit."

        It was only when Mike declared, "Do it," that Jonathan swallowed his doubt and dragged the tip of the blade across the wound to reopen it in a startling contiguity to the Russians reopening the gate. Eleven's subsequent wail was muffled by the spoon clamped between her teeth, everyone gasping at the blood that exuded from the incision. Once it was big enough Jonathan dropped the bloodied knife to the floor with a clatter, squeezing his eyes shut and readying himself for what he needed to do next.

        He drew in a breath and dug his fingers into the wound, and Eleven screamed louder than ever while the onlookers reacted in disgust. Whatever was beneath her skin evaded Jonathan's fingers and writhed around, only intensifying Eleven's sobs and increasing his stress. Eleven's suffering tore through Amara like a knife and she found solace by gripping Steve's hand tightly, shielding Erica so she wouldn't glimpse anything. Everyone else was in a similar state, tears streaming from multiple pairs of eyes as they bore witness to their friend's suffering.

        "Jonathan!" Nancy warned, aware that he was exacerbating Eleven's pain.

        "Hey, stop talking!" Jonathan snapped, rupturing Eleven's skin in desperation to seize the creature. "Goddammit!"

        "No! Stop it! Stop!" Eleven shrieked, the wooden spoon slipping from her mouth. It was only when Nancy placed her hand on her boyfriend's shoulder that he withdrew his hand from the puncture, ashamed at himself for going too far. With assistance from Mike, Eleven pushed herself into a sitting position. "I can do it," she whimpered, her cheeks stained with tears. "I can do it."

        None of them objected to her decision, for even if she had overexerted her powers it was ultimately her choice to use them. She extended her hand and mustered all of her strength to wrench the commodity out, the skin around her incision breaking in the process. The creature fought against her, desperate to cling to its host but Eleven gained the upper hand, producing her most deafening scream yet. The glass window of the Gap shattered from the force of her powers, raining shards everywhere that Amara and the others were quick to dodge, though a few fragments clung to her hair.

        Eleven finally succeeded in drawing what looked to be a fleshy critter smothered in blood from her shin, flinging it onto the ground. It didn't make it far before it was trampled by a boot belonging to none other than Jim Hopper, a late entry accompanied by three other figures; Joyce Byers, who seemed alleviated at the sight of her two children, and an unfamiliar man with glasses and a tank top. But Amara only had eyes for the fourth person with optics of similar shape and color, looking to her as though he thought he'd never see her again.

        "Kevin?"

published to quotev: 3/10/23
published to wattpad: 11/30/24