I open the door to Will's shed, and Hopper peers in.

"Yeah." He says, "This'll work."

We begin working, all of us. Throwing everything that's inside the small house out and onto the grass. I help Hopper work quicker, throwing out old tools and useless junk. We're given different jobs afterwards, and I'm ordered by Hopper to find materials to nail on the walls. I go alone, even though Dustin volunteered to go with me. I don't want to talk to him right now; I'm still angry.

I look through the boxes that have been thrown out of the shed, finding old wallpaper and curtains. I make a pile of useful stuff, sifting through the junk and lost in my own thought.

Our plan is to try and get information from Will, and the Mind Flayer. But he can't know where we are, or he'll send the Demodogs to us.

I feel emotionless as I search through the random objects. I've shut off my feelings for a while because they've been overwhelming me lately. I keep a straight face, showing no happiness or anger or sadness as I work. I don't cry when I think that we might all die. I don't shout and scream when I think of Dustin.

I don't throw things around angrily when I think of Hopper and El. I don't pull out bits of my hair when I think of Mike or Lucas. I don't sob when I think of Bob, or go into shock when I realize that we may not all get out of this alive. Our chance of survival is in fact, very slim, and I don't even flinch at the thought of death.

I've shut off my emotions, because I need to focus on what's important. Getting my friends and family out of here alive and safe. Finishing my job. Staying brave, and loyal, and, as Hopper suggested, trying to be smart.

I end up with a giant pile of supplies, and I carry them back to the shed, where Nancy and Steve grab them and take them inside.

I sit on the grass for one second, almost letting everything fall apart before catching myself. I have to stay strong for everyone else. They don't know as much as me, and I promised Hopper I wouldn't tell them about El.

I don't know how much longer I can take keeping a secret this big. It's slowly tearing me up from the inside. I've never been a good secret keeper, ever since I was younger. I remember telling my whole class about my mom moving out and my teacher having to send me to counselling.

The only secret I've been good at keeping my whole life is the relationship I have with my father.

I stand up and walk into the shed, grabbing a roll of duct tape and some curtain and heading to the opposite wall Nancy and Steve work on. I begin sticking the fabric on, making sure none of the wall shows. Soon, Steve joins me, stapling wallpaper in an angry manner. I say nothing, and he looks at me.

"You're being uncharacteristically quiet." He mutters and I shrug.

"I'm still trying to get over what you said earlier." I smile slightly, "About the 'Germans.'"

He glares at me, "Give me a break. You know I'm not as smart as you guys."

I glance at him, and he looks tired. "You are smart, Steve."

He scoffs, "Sure."

"You know things. Some things." I wrack my brain to find his knowledge, and frown, "Just not school smart. You're a different kind of smart."

"I'm not smart Liz."

"Okay, well who needs to be smart, hey?" I say, "You're brave, and kind, and protective, and determined. It takes twice the guy to be a good person than to know who the Nazis were."

He shakes his head, "I wasn't always nice."

"Yes, but you are now, and don't you think that's what matters?"

He shrugs, "I guess."

I stop taping the wall and lean on it, looking up at my big brother, "I would way rather have a dumb brother with morals and kindness than a stuck up snobby nerd that treats others like shit."

"Thanks." He mutters and there's silence as I begin taping and he begins stapling. Suddenly he stops, and I reach up to smack down a high piece of tape.

"Did you just call me dumb?"

I stop, "Um . . . No."

I avoid eye contact and rip another piece of duct tape as I feel my brother's glare on me.

"Actually," He leans against the wall and casually looks down at me, "I think you did."

I put more tape on the wall, at this point not even needing to stick anything to it, merely using the action as a distraction. As a way to avoid looking up at my brother.

"You said it first?" I say uncertainly and I can hear him smirk. I clear my throat and look up at him.

"I'm just gonna . . ." I clear my throat again, "Go—um—help the others . . ."

I trail off and turn on my heel, bolting from the shed and into the fresh night air. Steve doesn't follow, and I breath out a sigh of relief.

"What are you doing Liz?" I mumble to myself as I walk up to the Byers house. "You're not scared of Steve. You're not scared of anything."

I reach the stairs and put my hand on the doorknob, "That's right. It's 'Liz, fearer of no one, enemy of all.'"

I smile and nod to myself, then let my face fall and shake my own head sadly, "Oh who are you kidding, you jump when the toaster goes off."

I sigh and open the door, entering the house and continuing to work.

When we're all done with our jobs, we stand in the unrecognizable shed, Will sitting tied to a post in front of us. My brow furrows, I don't like seeing him like this, it makes me sad.

"All right you ready?" Hopper asks Joyce.

"Yeah." She answers meekly.

Hopper shakes the bottle of bleach he holds and walks over to where Will sits in a chair under two bright lights. I hold my breath as he pours it onto a cotton ball and holds it under Will's nose. The boy gasps, suddenly wide awake. His wide eyes catch mine first, taking a while to focus through the light. He looks all around him, confused.

I chose to come and be here with Will. I know I should, because he recognized me most at the hospital. The Mind Flayer knows me.

"What?" Will looks at us all, "What? What is this? What? What is this? Why am I tied up?"

"Will, we just wanna talk to you." Joyce says, I can see how much this hurts her, "We're not gonna hurt you."

"Where am I?"

Hopper holds up the drawing of the Mind Flayer to Will, who stares at it.

"You recognize this?" Will shakes his head in confusion, "Do you recognize this? Hey. We wanna help you. But to do that, we have to understand how to kill it."

Will stiffens, and struggles against the wires tying him down, "Why am I tied up?" He begins to shout and I clench my fists, "Why am I tied up? Why am I tied up? Why am I tied up?!"

"Hey." Hopper says but he ignores him and continues to struggle.

"Why am I tied up? Why am I tied up? Let me go!" He screams and Joyce puts her head in her hands. I know this must be hard for her, and it would be for me too if I let my emotions show. Luckily, I've had years of experience where I've had to remain stoic. "Let me go! Let me go! Let me go! Let me go! Let me go! Let me go! Let me go! Let me go! Let me go!"

Hopper holds him down, his arms wrapped around him as he struggles. Joyce looks into his eyes and he begins to become slightly calmer.

"Let me go! Let me go." He breathes heavily, "Let me go . . . go."

"Do you know what March 22nd is?" Joyce asks out of the blue, "It's your birthday. Your birthday."

He listens to her intently, like everyone else in the room.

"When you turned eight, I gave you that huge box of crayons." She says, gesturing with her hands as I smile, "Do you remember that? It was 120 colors.

"And all your friends, they got you Star Wars toys," I look at Mike, who smiles ever so slightly, "But all you wanted to do was draw with all your new colors.

"And you drew this big spaceship, but it wasn't from a movie." She points to him, "It was your spaceship. A rainbow ship is what you called it.

"And you must have used every color in the box." She smiles and I close my eyes to keep from letting my emotions through, "I took that with me to Melvald's and I put it up and I told everyone who came in, 'My son drew this.' And you were so embarrassed.

"But I was so proud." She shakes her head, tears brimming her eyes, "I was so, so proud."

It's quiet for a moment, then Jonathan steps forward from beside me, "Do you remember the day Dad left?" He kneels beside Will and whispers, "We stayed up all night building Castle Byers just the way you drew it. And it took so long because you were so bad at hammering. You'd miss the nail every time."

I smile and try to keep in my emotions. It's difficult.

"And then it started raining, but we stayed out there anyway." Jonathan laughs tiredly, "We were both sick for like a week after that. But we just had to finish it, didn't we? We just had to."

I step forward and look at Will, "Do you remember the first time we talked about our PTSD together? How we somehow managed to laugh about things despite that topic? You told me about your episodes, and how you thought they were real. And when I believed you, you told me that I was different than everyone. Because everyone else told you they weren't real, that they would go away." I push my tears angrily back into their ducts, "And you listened to my problems, my rants. I remember feeling more connected to you than ever that day, because you took the time to make me feel better, and I you."

He looks at me, and his hand twitches as Mike takes a breath in.

"Do you remember the first day that we met?" He asks, "It was . . . It was the first day of kindergarten. I knew nobody. I had no friends and I just felt so alone and so scared, but I saw you on the swings and you were alone, too. You were just swinging by yourself."

Tears run down his face, and by now I have to keep my eyes closed to hold my own back.

"And I just walked up to you and I asked." He says quietly, "I asked if you wanted to be my friend. And you said yes.—" He sniffs, "—You said yes. It was the best thing I've ever done."

We all look at Will, pale in the white light as Joyce puts a hand on his leg.

"Will, baby if you're in there, just please, please talk to us." Will's face scrunches up and I forget to stop myself from crying, suddenly feeling tears stream down my face.

"Please, honey, please, can you do that for me? Please." Joyce whispers, "I love you so much."

It looks like we're getting to him, but he suddenly stops, his face going blank, "Let me go."

We all suck in sharp breaths, and I wipe away my tears. I stare at the ground, and suddenly Hopper walks over to Will. He stares at his hand, which is tapping on the side of his chair.

He stares at it for a while, then opens the door, walking out with a sudden determination. We follow him back into the house, where he sits at the kitchen table, grabbing a pen and paper.

"What happened?" Dustin asks as we gather around.

"I think he's talking, just not with words," Hopper mutters, drawing dots and lines on the notepad.

Steve stares at it as if it's hieroglyphs, "What is that?"

"Morse code," We answer immediately.

"H-E-R-E." Hopper spells out.

"Here." We all look at each other, grim expressions becoming our features as the cop deciphers what Will is trying to tell us.

"Will's still in there," Hopper says, "He's talking to us."

Jonathan leaves the room, coming back with a boom box in his arms and a frown etched on his face.

"We have to keep talking to him." He says firmly, "To Will."-

"You guys stay here,"!Hopper says, "When you hear the beeps, right them down."

I don't pay attention to what he tells the others, only following Jonathan out and back into the shed. Joyce, Mike, and Hopper all follow, and we close the door behind us.

Jonathan presses the play button, and I recognize the song as the one I heard Will singing when I first found the entrance to the Upside Down.

"Should I stay or should I go."

"Do you remember the first time I played you this?" Jonathan kneels in front of Will as the music continues to play, "Mom and Dad were both arguing in the next room. So I played you the mix tape I made you. And it was the first time you got into music. Real music."

We all tell him stories, memories of the times we've spent with him. He taps rapidly, and Hopper sends the message back into the house.

While Joyce finishes her story about a girl in a sandbox, I can hear the distant ring of the phone inside. My eyes widen and I look at Will as it rings again.

"Shit," I swear quietly as he closes his eyes.

"Hey." Joyce says as I walk over to Will and kneel down. "Hey, can you hear me?"

Will continues to close his eyes, his eyelids moving rapidly. I take a breath and reach in, touching his arm softly. I close my eyes and see the tunnels, rushing through them, over grass, through the darkness. I open my eyes and let go of Will.

"It knows," I say, "It's coming, and quick. It knows where we are."

Joyce stands up and grabs the syringe, stabbing it into Will's arm and knocking him out quickly. We rush out the door and hear an ungodly roar from somewhere distant.

"They're coming!"

As the others grab Will, I rush inside, jumping onto the couch and peering through the blinds along with Lucas, Max, Dustin, and Mike. The night is still laced with fog, and I narrow my eyes, unable to make anything out through the blanket of white.

"Hey, get away from the windows!" Hopper shouts and I trip over my foot upon jumping off the couch. I jolt up and back away as Hopper holds out a shotgun to Jonathan.

"Do you know how to use this?"

"What?" Jonathan looks bewildered, staring bluntly at the gun.

"Can you use this?"

Jonathan stutters and Nancy steps forward, staring Hopper in the eyes intensely.

"I can."

He throws her the gun, and I rip the shade off a desk lamp, wrapping the wire around the metal pole and holding it in front of me. I stand next to my brother and Nancy. Jonathan, Mike, Max, Dustin, and Lucas all stand behind us. The click of Nancy's gun loading is heard, and I take a breath, lowering my stance as I get ready to swing my lamp.

We stand like this, ready to defend, ready to attack. No noise comes from outside.

"Where are they?" Nancy whispers, "Where are they?!"

Lucas loads his wrist rocket and holds it, prepared to shoot. The silence stretches on, save for our heavy breathing and the creak of a floorboard as my foot shifts on it.

I hear the familiar vicious purr of the Demodogs, and breathe shallow breaths as the sounds runs along the side of the house. We all turn instinctively, pointing our weapons at the wall, following the noise.

"What are they doing?" Nancy asks no one in particular as I blink rapidly, trying to focus on the current events despite the jumble in my mind. I feel fear bite at my stomach, and I force it down, swallowing hard and gripping my lamp in a white knuckle hold.

We all point our assorted arms at the window, and I can make out the bush beside it rustle. It sways back and forth, and I widen my stance, ready to swing.

All of a sudden, the noise swerves again, running back along the side of the house. We follow it, pointing our guns and bats and slingshots and lamp poles in that direction. The purring - the sound of a roar curdling in an animal's throat - grows louder. There's a slight high pitched screech, followed by faint crashing noises.

Then, as Lucas stretches his wrist rocket even further, I can hear the Demodog whimper in pain, like it's been suddenly injured. I frown, but nonetheless continue to hold my ground.

It's silent for a split second, and again nothing but the shallow breaths of everyone in the room can be heard. Then, as sudden as the snap of someone's fingers, the window crashes inwards, and a Demodog flies towards us.

Hopper shouts, and I get ready to hit it, but Steve pushes me out of the way and into the wall as the dog flies past us. It crashes into the desk, and there's more shouting as we circle around the animal.

Hopper begins to step forwards, and I pick myself up from the wall and follow. He keeps his gun steady, and I grasp my lamp tighter, but the creature remains still.

"Holy shit," Dustin mumbles, and I feel a bead of sweat drip past my ear, pulling me out of my focused trance and back into reality as I tentatively loosen my grip.

"Is it dead?" Max asks quietly, and I reach my foot forward, nudging the being with my toe despite Steve's quiet disagreement.

I look back at Max and nod, just as a loud squeak comes from the other side of the door.

We all spin around, and I almost jump out of my skin as suddenly the lock turns. I frown, and step forward a bit, away from the others.

Everyone readies their weapons again, but I lower my lamp and step forward some more, towards the door as the extra lock slides from its socket.

The door begins to creak open, and before I can take another step, Steve grabs my hood and pulls me back. I try to pull away, but he grasps me tight.

The door opens, and, at first, I don't recognize the person that walks inside. Dark, shadowed eyes, slick, greasy hair. Black clothes and white sneakers. But, as Hopper lowers his gun, I stop struggling against Steve in realization. My heart skips a beat, and I almost laugh out loud.

Everyone is stunned, and it only makes me more excited. Their faces are blank, like it hasn't hit them yet. I almost want to shout, 'plot twist, she's alive!' But decide against it when I see the tears in Mike's eyes.

Eleven stands in front of us all, a single drop of blood slipping from her nose.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

WoooOOoowow

Sorry for updating so late folksiez, my Netflix was not cooperating and I wanted to get this scene right. Anywho, a couple more chapters to go. Are you excited, I'm excited. Though it may take me a while to get the next chapter out. Don't fret, it'll come. With time. Patience young grasshopper.