The Byers' living room was filled with tension and relief as everyone gathered around. The front door creaked open, and there she was—Eleven, standing in the doorway. Everyone froze, their eyes wide with disbelief.

Mike's voice broke the silence. "Eleven..." She stepped forward, her eyes locking onto his. "Mike..."

Without another word, they rushed into each other's arms, hugging tightly as tears streamed down their faces. The others watched, stunned by the reunion they thought might never happen.

Max, standing beside Lucas, whispered, "Is that...?"

Lucas nodded, his eyes not leaving the pair. "Yeah, it's her."

Mike, still holding Eleven, his voice breaking, said, "I never gave up on you. I called you every night, every night for—"

"353 days," Eleven finished for him, her voice soft but steady. "I heard."

Mike pulled back slightly, looking at her with a mix of relief and hurt. "Why didn't you tell me you were there? That you were okay?"

Before Eleven could answer, Hopper stepped forward, his expression stern. "Because I wouldn't let her. The hell is this, huh? Where have you been?"

Eleven looked at him, her eyes full of emotion. "Where have you been?"

In a rare moment of vulnerability, Hopper pulled her into a hug. "I'm so sorry, kid."

But the relief was short-lived. Mike's face twisted in anger as he realized the implications. "You've been hiding her... You've been hiding her this whole time!"

He pushed Hopper, anger boiling over. "You knew I was worried sick! We all were!"

"Hey!" Hopper barked, grabbing Mike by the shoulders. "Let's talk. Alone."

He led Mike out of the living room and into Joyce's room, leaving the others in a heavy silence. Eleven began to make her way around the room, offering hugs to each of them. When she reached Daphne, they embraced tightly.

"Eleven, I'm so glad you're back," Daphne whispered.

Eleven nodded, holding her close for a moment longer before moving on to the others. Daphne watched her go, a sense of guilt creeping in. Jonathan noticed her expression and followed her into the kitchen.

Jonathan leaned against the counter, watching Daphne as she stared out the window, lost in thought. "Daph, what's going on? You seem... off."

Daphne sighed, rubbing her temples. "It's nothing, Jonnhy. Just... something I have to deal with."

Jonathan furrowed his brow, sensing there was more to it. "You know you can talk to me, right? I mean, we're family."

Daphne hesitated, then finally spoke. "I was supposed to meet Billy tonight... We had a date, and now... I just left him hanging."

Jonathan's eyes widened slightly. "Wait, you and Billy? When did that happen?"

"Not too long ago," Daphne admitted, avoiding his gaze. "I know he's a jerk most of the time, but... when it's just us, he's different. I didn't want to disappoint him, but now..."

Jonathan nodded slowly, processing the information. "I get it, Daph. But you're here because you're needed. And if Billy really cares about you, he'll understand. He'll have to."

Daphne finally met his eyes, a small smile playing on her lips. "Thanks, Jonnhy. I just... didn't expect everything to get so complicated."

"Nothing's ever simple around here," Jonathan replied with a wry grin. "But you're doing the right thing."

Their conversation was cut short as they saw Joyce and Eleven heading toward Will's room. Daphne and Jonathan exchanged a glance before following them.

When they reached the doorway, they saw Joyce and Eleven emerging, Joyce holding a piece of paper with the words "CLOSE GATE" scrawled across it.

The group reassembled in the living room, the atmosphere growing tense as they all stared at the message.

Joyce's voice was filled with hope and determination as she addressed Eleven. "Do you think if we got you back there, that you could close it?"

Eleven met Joyce's gaze, her expression serious as she nodded slowly. "Yes. I can do it."

Everyone exchanged nervous glances, the weight of what they were about to face sinking in. But in that moment, there was no hesitation—just a shared understanding that they were in this together.

As they prepared for what lay ahead, the bond between them only grew stronger, forged in the fires of the battles they had already fought and the ones still to come.

The group sat in the dimly lit dining room, the weight of their situation pressing down on them as they huddled around the table. The plan they were about to set in motion would either save Will—or kill him.

Hopper leaned forward, his voice low and serious. "It's not like it was before. It's grown. A lot. And that's assuming we can even get in there. The place is crawling with those dogs."

Dustin couldn't help himself. "Demodogs," he corrected instinctively.

Hopper frowned, confused. "I'm sorry, what?"

Dustin, realizing how out of place his comment was, hesitated. "I said, uh, Demodogs. Like Demogorgon and dogs... you put them together, it sounds pretty badass—"

Hopper cut him off, irritation clear in his voice. "How is this important right now?"

Dustin's face flushed. "It's not. I'm sorry." Eleven's voice broke the brief silence. "I can do it."

Hopper looked at her, concern etched on his face. "You're not hearing me, kid. It's different now."

Eleven met his gaze, her eyes determined. "I'm hearing you. I can do it."

Mike chimed in, his voice filled with anxiety. "Even if El can close the gate, there's still another problem. If the brain dies, the body dies."

Max frowned, confused. "I thought that was the whole point."

"It is," Mike explained, "but if we're right about this... if El closes the gate and kills the Mind Flayer's army—"

"Will's a part of that army," Lucas finished, the realization settling over the group like a heavy cloud.

Daphne let out a deep sigh, the gravity of the situation sinking in. "Closing the gate will kill him."

All eyes turned to Joyce, the unspoken question hanging in the air. She stood, a determined look on her face, and led them to Will's room, where he lay unconscious. The air in the room was icy, the window wide open, allowing the cold to seep in.

Joyce glanced around, her mind racing. "He likes it cold."

Hopper, confused, asked, "What?"

Joyce's voice was quiet but firm. "It's what Will kept saying to me... 'He likes it cold.'"

Daphne stepped forward, her voice steady. "If he likes it cold, then right now we're giving it exactly what it wants. Mom, close that window."

Without hesitation, Joyce moved to the window and slammed it shut, the cold air slowly receding.

Nancy, her mind working through the possibilities, spoke up. "If this is a virus, and Will's the host, then..."

"Then we need to make the host uninhabitable," Jonathan finished, his eyes locked on his brother.

Nancy nodded in agreement. "So if he likes it cold..."

Daphne's voice was resolute. "We need to burn it out of him."

Mike, looking around at the group, added, "We have to do it somewhere he doesn't know this time. Somewhere far away."

Dustin nodded, the pieces falling into place. "Yeah, somewhere far away. Somewhere he can't escape from."

Hopper stood, his expression grim but resolved. "I know where."

He moved toward Will, gently lifting him onto his shoulder, wrapping a blanket tightly around his frail body. Joyce and Jonathan followed closely behind, their faces a mix of fear and determination.

The others remained inside, their hearts pounding as they watched the trio disappear into the night, heading toward a place that held the last hope of saving Will.

As the door closed behind them, the remaining group huddled together, the reality of what was about to happen settling in. They knew that the plan was dangerous, and the risks were unimaginable. But they also knew that there was no other way.

Max looked around at the others, her voice quiet but determined. "We have to believe in this. It's the only shot we've got."

Daphne nodded, her hand resting on Max's shoulder. "We'll get him back. We have to."

With that, they waited in tense silence, knowing that the real battle was just beginning.