EARLY NOVEMBER LEAVES DANCED ACROSS the hood of Brandy's car, the brunette lodged in the driver's seat with an inquisitive look. Martha sat to her right, plucking absently at her sandwich and eyeing her best friend, who was swamped in a pile of papers.

"So..." the Baker girl began quietly, swallowing another mouthful of peanut butter and jelly. "You figured it out yet?"

The paper currently coiled in Brandy's hand fluttered back into her lap as the Brooks girl cast a wry glance at her friend. "Yes, within the five minutes we've been sitting here I've managed to crack the entire code of my father's hieroglyphic notes."

"Oh, nice. So you can do something," Martha threw back teasingly, and Brandy's annoyed huff melted into a smile that matched the Baker's. She peeled her eyes away from the Brooks girl to observe the bustling movement of the high school parking lot, quickly catching a figure approaching them.

"Oh, God."

"What?" Brandy asked, and before Martha could answer there was an eager pair of knuckles rapping on her window. Disgust entangled with irritation shredded the curiosity out of her expression as Steve peered desperately through the glass pane.

"Brandy, can we please talk?" Steve's voice was high-pitched with a near whine. His lunch bag was a crumpled, tattered mess in one fist, the other persistently knocking.

Brandy let out another garbled sigh, rolling her window halfway down, glaring at the Harrington through the small slit of light. "Steve, now is not the time! Seriously."

"Listen, Bran, I just—"

"How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that?" Her voice was unusually hostile, so much that even Martha squirmed anxiously in her cushioned seat.

Steve's hands dropped pathetically to his sides, his chest cramping with pain at her icy tone. "I just wanna apologize for the other night."

"Steve, I'm serious."

"I know I was total dick, alright? I just..." His brown eyes faltered, dropping below to the puddle of sheets draped over Brandy's legs. "What are you doing anyway? Homework?"

"None of your business. Just leave me alone, jackass!" Brandy grumbled, rolling her window back up and gripping the lever so tightly her knuckles faded to a stark white.

The Harrington huffed in defeat, drawing away slightly from the car with his hurt gaze still aligned on Brandy. "Fine. But I am not going down without a fight, Brandy Eliana Brooks!"

"Steve!"

"Oh My God, what?" Martha spoke up in a raspy tone, gawking at the brunette who still glowered at the departing boy. "Did he just say your middle name was Eliana?"

"I am going to cut his own dick off, I swear to God!" Brandy threw a frustrated hand over her head, eyes flickering back to her father's notes. "You tell him one secret."

"Yeah, a secret you wouldn't even tell me, your best friend!"

"I was drunk, Mae! I was running on nothing but two slices of pizza and four beers. Forgive me!" Her hands were already shuffling forward, grappling the knobs on her stereo in a panic before Martha could further protest. "Let's just turn on the radio, hm? Listen to some nice tunes to calm us down."

Martha slunk further into her seat with a defeated sigh, running a hand through her entangled curls as You Don't Mess Around with Jim hummed softly. Brandy stared up from the mountain of papers at the stereo, sucking on her bottom lip in disdain. "Oh great, it's that song Hopper's obsessed with. He's always going on about how Jim Croce is such a..."

The words dissolved in her mouth, her eyes growing wider until they were huge disks. Martha was gaping too, hastily swallowing the last of her lunch in a bundle of astonishment.

"Croce," they murmured together shakily, meeting one another's concerned looks.

"The code," Martha hissed, grasping the edges of one sheet firmly, her gaze caught on the gray word scribbled across it. "Holy shit!"

"Hopper is Croce?" Brandy shook her head in disbelief, thumbing through the files hastily. "That makes no sense."

"What? It makes perfect sense!" Martha's hands were scouring the stack of papers, flipping through one after the other and scanning the sea of pencil marks. "See all these numbers? They're coordinates. He's tracking Hopper! God, how did we not get it sooner?"

"Well yeah, that part makes sense, sure. But why is he tracking Hopper with my brother?"

Martha's head shook vigorously, fighting back a smile at her friend's naïveté. "'Eli' is code for you, Brandy. Unless your brother has been tagging along with you and the Chief and I just didn't know about it."

"Of course not!" Brandy chided, her face still weary with doubt. "But why Eli?"

"Short for Eliana," Martha finished, tossing the paper in her hands back to the brunette, watching it flutter into her limp best friend.

"Holy shit," Brandy gasped, her open-mouthed expression falling back to Martha momentarily. "Holy shit!" She screeched, jabbing at the car handle until it graciously let her out, her figure slinking the perimeter of the Impala.

"Wh...? What are you doing?" Martha demanded, following her out of the car and back into the early afternoon's lazy sunlight. When the Brooks girl didn't reply, instead ducking below the car and pressing her torso against the somewhat warm gravel, she rounded the car insistently. "Brandy!"

"God, you're a fucking genius, Martha!" Brandy huffed, sliding out from under the belly of her car with something new cradled between two fingers: a tracker. "You were right. Look at this!" The tracker glinted obsidian black in the golden daylight, nothing but a minuscule bug against Brandy's palm. "My dad has totally been tracking me."

"Yeah, but, why?" Martha questioned, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear to stop it from fraying in the wind.

The Brooks girl's face grew wine red with betrayal and fury. "Cause he's a controlling psychopathic asshole! Of course he would want to know where I am at all times. He's probably just waiting for me to screw up so he can ground me again." 

"Well, are you sure that's all it is?"

"Yeah! What else would it be?"

"Then why did he let you get the job in the first place?" Martha pressed. "If he's as controlling as you say, and I don't doubt it, why would he pay Hopper to let you run around with him all day?"

"I don't know! Maybe he thinks Hopper's a good influence?" Brandy shrugged, her arms slapping the side of her thighs. "Why does my dad do anything?"

"No. I'm thinking it's something to do with Hopper. Maybe the chief is hiding something? Something your dad might know about?" Martha had stumbled off into her thoughts, pacing a few steps at a whilst tapping away at her chin. "Not to mention we still have no idea what DO and V stands for."

Thankfully, her back was to Brandy, unable to notice the way her face fell into a dark, shadowed state. The November wind suddenly seemed a lot colder as it blew against her chestnut locks. There was only one thing Brandy knew the chief to be hiding. One big thing. And if her father somehow knew...

An unholy waterfall of terror washed upon her skin, and her eyes slipped back down to the tracker still encased in her hand. "Brandy?" Martha had started towards her again, worry creased into her brow. "What's up?"

Brandy looked at her briefly, fiddling anxiously with the small tracker between her fingers. "There's something I have to do."

"What?" Martha gaped, watching the brunette twirl around and throw the tracker towards the trees with a heavy grunt. "Where are you going?"

"Look, I can't explain," Brandy stammered, gripping the top of the open car door with a pale and flittering hand. "I'll call you, okay?"

"Brandy, what the hell?"

"I promise, Mae!" Her voice was a screech, her hands crumpled together in a begging plea. The girl's gaze was outlined with such urgency and desperation, Martha had no choice as she dipped her head slightly.

"Fine. See you."

Not another word transpired between the two girls, the Brooks teen jumping inside and swerving violently out of the carpark. Leaves swirled at Martha's ankles from the gust of wind left by Brandy's Impala, and truthfully, she felt more hollow and broken than the orange and brown foliage at her feet watching her disappear.

Brandy didn't bother to align her car in a parking spot once she made it to the station, scurrying out of the vehicle and locking it with one click. Flo was seated at her usual desk, her nose buried into a book as she absently read its contents. The woman's face contorted with confusion and shock upon seeing Brandy burst inside, her face still marked with pale fright. 

"What's wrong, honey?"

"Where's Hop?" Brandy demanded, her eyes falling past the woman to the clueless Powell and Callahan. Flo disappointingly matched their ignorant expressions, offering the girl a simple shrug. "Really?"

"C'mon, sweetheart. What do you expect? This isn't anything new from him," she sighed through tightly wound lips dusted with lipstick.

Brandy's expression matched the frustrated glow on her cheeks, stomping over to the phone. By now she had memorized the digits to Hawkins Lab, punching in each number with an aggravated glare in her eyes. "Hi. Is Dr. Brooks there?"

"He is indeed. Would you like to speak with him?" The same woman with the crude voice answered.

Shit. "No thanks!"

"Who is this?" The desk lady demanded, most likely wrapping her wrinkles fingers around the phone cord suspiciously. Darkness laced her voice that made Brandy's spine tickle with unease, and she slammed the phone down before the tension could deepen.

"Is everything already, dear?" Flo had been watching the teenager with a crease of worry on her brows. "Is someone in trouble?"

"Nope," Brandy answered nonchalantly, swinging her arms behind her back as she neared the exit again. "Just give me a call from my house when Hop gets back from...wherever?"

"Sure thing."

Brandy slammed herself back into her car, an unsettling dread smoothing over her system. She weighed her options, considering scouring every grimy corner of Hawkins for the chief. Going to the lab by herself and with her father there made it impossible to discover any clues, but burning gas on an aloof chief that didn't want to be found seemed like waste as well. She couldn't go to the cabin he kept El at it, not only because she might still be tracked but also because she couldn't remember where Hop said it was. Another guttural sigh trailed out of the girl as she started the engine, the car sputtering to life and beginning its journey back to the Brooks house.

Tomorrow, however, the Brooks girl was fiercely determined to return to that lab, and find the missing clues that explained exactly what her father was up to.

~

The sun bore mercilessly on the shoulders of the twins as they crossed the schoolyard, Eli in the lead. Sour-laced bickering could be heard before they rounded the corner, finding the party crowded around the dumpster. Lucas had been hissing something sharply to Dustin, using her arms vibrantly to match his irritated expression.

Rene caught the twins first, shooting them a short but welcoming nod. "Hey guys," she greeted, making the arguing cease and for everyone to turn.

"What's going on?" Eli asked, his nose wrinkling subtly as a tangy odor wafted from the Sinclair boy. "Did you go dumpster diving?"

"We're looking for Dart," Mike answered, his eyes widening as they trailed past Eli to his sister worriedly. "You told her, right?"

He gave his twin a short glance over his shoulder before answering, recalling last night's lengthy explanation about Dustin's discovery and Will's episode. Anxiety and sadness had been unkind to him yesterday, threatening many tears during his conversation with Eve. "Yeah."

"Cool," Mike uttered plainly.

"Wait, hang on," Dustin started with a bitter tone, his glowering expression returning to Lucas. "How come you're not mad at them for showing up late?"

"Their sister drives them here! Besides, you showed up late with Rene right after I drew the short straw. Forgive me for having some suspicions," Lucas spat back, throwing his hands onto his hips.

"Boys, relax. We're all here now, aren't we? We'll find the little lizard dude in no time," Rene tried, a dry chuckle falling from her lips that no one else reciprocated.

Eli had become transfixed on the missing silhouette from the group. "Where's Will?"

"No idea," Dustin replied.

"He's coming, don't worry," Mike responded with a confidence Eli didn't believe in, recalling the way his best friend has seized violently during his episode. Truthfully, it was the kind of image that he would creep behind his eyelids during sleep for a few weeks. And if he knew Joyce Byers, he knew Will wouldn't be coming today.

His doubtful thoughts were confirmed true as the school day lapsed by gradually, consisting of empty desks and longing glances out windows as Eli hoped his friend was okay. He knew Mike must've contained the same worries, catching his eye during class and watching him mouth the simple word "lunch" to him during Mr. Clarke's lecture.

"What's up?" Eli wondered once the lunch bell rang, falling into Mike's flank as they scurried down a busy hallway. Lucas and Dustin trailed behind slightly, scouring the white cement corridor for a certain redhead.

"I'm worried about Will," he muttered, and he didn't have to elaborate before Eli agreed. "I can't stop thinking about what he said on Halloween."

The bubbling hot spring of dread worsened inside the Brooks boy as he recalled Will's frightful words that night. "You mean the shadow he saw?"

"Exactly. I think his episode might have something to do with that. I'm gonna try calling his house. Come with?" His eyes were begging, almost as though he didn't want to face the other end of the phone call alone, and Eli caved instantly.

"Yeah, sure."

The two boys hurried outside to the payphone, the other three watching with concern from the stone steps. Eli watched Mike as his freckles twitched impatiently, eventually receiving an answer but for it to be Joyce's voice relaying a stereotypical answering machine message.

"Anything?" Lucas asked as they jogged back, his hands gripping the iron railway desperately.

"We need to talk. AV room," Mike huffed, jumbling up the stairs and leading the others back inside. His hands were laid on the door handle before he turned around, noting the way Max attempted to follow. "Party members only," he spoke with the same hostile voice he always used on Max. A voice Eli didn't really like but he understood nonetheless.

"C'mon, Mike," Dustin pleaded uselessly.

"This is non-negotiable," the Wheeler decided before scurrying inside.

A chorus of apologies to Max erupted from Lucas and Dustin as they trailed after Mike, shooting the stunned girl pitied looks. Eli hesitated, catching the unwavering flame sparked in her eyes.

"See? I told you. You're friends with a bunch of assholes. Guess that makes you one too," she snapped, the slight croak in her voice giving away the hurt she carried in her. She was storming off angrily, lunch bag crumpled in her fist, before Eli could attempt an apology, or maybe even a vague explanation. Still, his chest stung.

Once inside the AV room, Mike and Eli assumed their seats the tabletop while Lucas and Dustin surrounded them, listening intently. "Will didn't want us to tell anyone, but on Halloween night, he saw a sort of shadow in the sky."

"A shadow?" Lucas stammered unsurely. "What kind of shadow?"

"I don't know," Mike sighed.

"But it scared him," Eli added.

"Yeah. And if Will really has True Sight," Mike proposed in a dark, theorizing tone. "If he can really see into the Upside Down, maybe he saw that shadow again yesterday."

"So that's why he was frozen like that?" Dustin inquired.

"It's possible," Eli nodded.

"Can it hurt him? I mean, if the shadow isn't from our world..." Lucas trailed off tensely.

"I'm not sure," Mike shrugged, glancing over at the curly-haired Henderson. "Dustin?"

"Well, if you're in another plane, you can't interval with the material plane. So, theoretically no, the shadow can't hurt him."

"But we can't think in terms of D&D," Eli shook his head vigorously. "This is real life. And Will doesn't seem to be in control of these episodes either. So it seems less like him willingly interacting with the Upside Down and more like...the Upside Down has infected him."

"How can you be sure?" Lucas pondered, admittedly taken aback by the horrific conclusion the Brooks boy had drawn to.

"Well, we can't. That's why we acquire more knowledge," Mike chirped. "Eli and I will go to Will's after school. You guys stay here and find Dart."

"Dart?" Dustin piped up, bewilderment littering his face. "What's Dart gotta do with this?"

"Will saw him in the Upside Down," Mike replied. "I don't know how yet, but he's connected to all of this."

"And maybe if we can find Dart, we can find some answers too," Eli exhaled shakily. "And we can help Will."

"Well, sounds like a plan to me," Lucas sighed, rising to his feet and casting another glance at Dustin. "Don't try to find a way out of finding your creepy lizard friend again. Even if Rene asks you to help her with something, I swear to God—"

"Hey! I slept late, Rene has nothing to do with it!"

The boys' debate flickered out of the room as they left, concealing a silence over the other two's heads. Eli shuffled off of the table, gathering his belongings with a pensive glance thrown to Mike every now and then. "So how am I gonna get to Will's? I didn't bring my bike."

"That's okay! You can ride on the back of mine," Mike shouldered the question off effortlessly, as if the idea of Eli riding on the back of his bike, his fingers gripping the boy's shoulders for several minutes, was effortless. "See you after class!" He called back, and now it was just Eli standing there alone, worrying how on Earth he would make it through a bike ride with Mike Wheeler.

And how on Earth to stop worrying.

Nevertheless, classes eventually ceased and Eli was a tumbling mess of nerves by the bike rack, waiting for Mike to randomly appear with the same freckled smile. Eve trudged up instead, giving her brother a vaguely concerned look. "You really think something's wrong with Will?" The twins had briefly talked between classes earlier, Eli informing her of his plans to ride to Will's.

"I don't know," Eli answered, but the feeling wedged in his gut said otherwise. "I just know it's not normal. You should've seen him yesterday."

"Well, whatever it is, it's probably not as bad as whatever you're thinking," Eve spoke with a raised brow, the knowing portrait on her face making Eli scoff.

"Stop it."

"C'mon, E, I know you. You're probably thinking the worst of the worst," Eve prodded, dogging her elbow into his waist lightly.

"Whatever. I'll see you at home," Eli dismissed her, noticing Brandy's car had rolled up to the curb. Even from here he could see the unreadable lines sewn into his older sister's face, and he knew she was thinking deeply. Probably about Steve. Or their father's cryptic research, something Eli hardly had time to ponder over.

"Hey," Mike's voice was smooth, and oddly comforting as he strolled towards the brunet. "Ready?" He asked, gripping the handlebars to his bike expectantly.

Eli shoved the electric nerves that made his veins feel like butter, nodding instead. "Ready."

He steadied his feet onto the pegs in Mike's back wheel, hesitating before gripping the fabric of the Wheeler's coat. A gush of November wind blew between the strands of curls atop his head, and he was thankful for it. Without the arctic pulses in the sky, his face would probably be teeming red along with sweaty palms. Although he had to admit, it felt nice watching the colors of Hawkins pass by, holding onto Mike as they did.

The Byers house was the same, lying in the crook between wilderness and civilization's edge. Eli stumbled off of Mike's bike when it stopped in the crummy sand and gravel driveway, a sudden wave of sickness spraying over him. Nausea tugged at his stomach while his head pounded, sweat beading on his temples. He dismissed it warily, roping it to be the results of a twenty minute bike ride across town with Mike Wheeler.

The raven-haired boy lunged forward ambitiously, taking charge and rapping his knuckles on the door. "Hello? Will! Mrs. Byers?"

Both boys staggered back slightly as the door clicked open, Joyce Byers's frail and pale figure shoving herself through the small gap meekly. "Hey, boys."

"Mrs. Byers!" Eli spoke, attempting to disregard the persistent pounding in his head like an iron fist. "Is Will here?"

"Look, now's really not the time—"

"Is he okay?" Mike interrupted eagerly, pacing backwards and Joyce continued to step onto the porch, shutting the door behind her briskly.

"He's just not feeling really well. I'll tell him you boys both stopped by though, okay?" She nodded briefly, shuffling back for the door as desperation continued to gnaw at the two, especially Eli.

"It's about the shadow monster, isn't it?"

The sentence tumbled out of the Brooks boy like hot lightning, enough to make Joyce stop and turn to him in surprise. "How did you know that?"

"Will told us about it on Halloween," Mike swooped in to explain, relaying the words that seemed to become lodged in Eli's throat. The sickness had thickened, making his head feel like warm static and his stomach was screaming for help. Sweat crept down his forehead and formed in clumps beneath his coat, making the nausea ache.

"Alright, maybe you boys should come in—Eli?" Joyce noticed the boy's hazy glow, her lips pulling back in a mingle of concern and bewilderment. "Eli, is everything alright?"

Embarrassment danced at the back of his conscience, extremely aware of the pairs of eyes on him, gawking at the rolls of sweat down his unusually pale face. "I think I'm gonna be sick," he answered, but his voice felt far away, not part of himself and ricocheting somewhere else.

The last thing Eli saw before he was lost to darkness was Mike Wheeler leaping forward to catch him.

~

"A tracker?" Eve echoed incredulously, sitting on her bed stiffly as Brandy's shoes scuttled the carpet in a pace. "And you're sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure!" Brandy replied with an exaggerated huff, her hands flying from her hair to the air beside her hips. Frustration tore into her as she read the disbelief printed on Eve, a tinge of regret splashing on her mind.

Before the events of last November, Brandy hadn't been close with either of her siblings, but she always preferred Eli in secret. They got along better, mostly because Eve's more outspoken sun to Eli's moon didn't clash well with Brandy. She couldn't help but wonder if her plans would fall better on her brother's ears if he were here right now.

"It just doesn't make sense, why would Dad want to track you? Trust issues?"

"Well that's what I thought at first," Brandy gulped, the oncoming threat of revealing a secret trusted with her making her nerves rattle. "Eve, I need you to promise me that what I tell you doesn't leave this room."

"What? Are you serious?" The smaller girl scoffed, disinterested in the deadpan written in her sister's expression.

"Yes, I'm serious," Brandy scowled.

"What about Eli?"

"What about Eli?" Brandy exclaimed, her hands slapping the sides of her jeans with another growl. "He's not here right now and let's face it, he probably won't be sleeping here tonight. It's Will."

"Right. And Martha?"

"She already knows. I called her."

"And you thought that was a good idea because?" Eve shot off of her bed, lumbering towards the older girl accusingly. "You found out Dad was tracking you and you didn't stop to think he could be tracing calls too?"

"It's not me he's interested in," Brandy replied defensively, shoving her sister back on the bed with another sour look. "Now promise me this stays between us."

"Fine, whatever."

Ignoring the bitter-laced promise, Brandy wheeled around and snatched the sand-colored file off the dresser, thumbing through the notes before pricking a paper from the pile. "Here," she mumbled, tossing the delicate sheet into her sister's lap. "Remember the code names?"

"Yeah?" Eve shook her head senselessly, shortly skimming the selected page.

"Croce stands for Hopper. Jim Croce is a musician. Jim Hopper is our chief, and coincidentally he's obsessed with the guy's music. And here," her finger trailed down the paper's margins, "Dad's not referring to our brother. He's referring to me. My middle name is Eliana."

"Holy shit," Eve uttered in realization, her fingers suddenly gripping the paper with more consideration. "And these coordinates...so that's how you figured he was tracking you?"

"Exactly."

"But you still haven't told me what he wants."

Brandy inhaled nervously, her lungs feeling like mold as her finger moved to hover above the pair of letters next to her and Hopper's code names. "Hopper told me yesterday something very important. Something that, again, you can't tell anyone. Eleven didn't die last year. She went to the Upside Down. Hopper found her later and he's been hiding her ever since."

The moment elapsed slowly, Eve dropping the sheet and letting it flutter in the air like a moth before it settled back on her thighs. Her lips were parted open, but no words came screeching out for a painfully long moment. "She's alive?"

"Yep. And DO..."

"...stands for Eleven?" Eve finished with a perplexed shake of her head.

"Double Ones," Brandy nodded. "Took me a while to figure that one out, I'll be honest. I just wasn't sure if it really meant her, but then again—"

"Brandy!" Eve launched herself off the bed again, roping her hands around both of her sister's arms to shake her violently. "You have proof that our father is looking for Eleven! Why haven't you told Hopper yet? She could be in danger!"

"Okay, first of all," Brandy hissed, peeling both of the weaker girl's hands away from her. "Second, I tried to get in contact with that old geezer. He's MIA! And I mean seriously missing. He didn't show up for work the rest of the day! Third, if Dad knows about El, I wanna know why."

"If you say we go back to that lab again—" Eve began in a deep, throaty tone.

"Well then close your ears, I guess," Brandy repressed the urge to smirk at her sibling, acknowledging the weight of their situation.

"Brandy!"

"I know, I know! It'll be like your five hundredth time and you probably can't stand the sight of that place! But I'm serious. Dad could seriously be involved in things we never knew about. We need to find out what," Brandy explained in a string of flustered words.

"God, I can't believe this," Eve shook her head, falling back onto her bedsheets. "I mean, I knew Dad was a monster but, not this kind of monster."

Brandy felt a wave of understanding wash over her, and she quietly joined her sister on the twin-sized bed. "Kind of ironic, don't you think? Considering his whole obsession with being a 'good Catholic'?"

Eve let out a small chuckle, her lips twitching. "Yeah."

"So..." Brandy poked the girl with her shoulder. "Are you gonna help me do this or not?"

The girl didn't take long to answer, her eyes darkened with the fresh news that swirled in her mind. "Hell yeah."