Warm water and a good shower gel made him feel a whole lot better. By the time he had cleaned up and washed his hair, he felt almost human again. It was after towelling off quickly that he looked in the mirror.

His skin was pale and there were dark circles under his eyes, but nothing worse, thank god. Grabbing his toothbrush, he covered it in toothpaste and began to scrub the remnants of everything from his teeth. It didn't take him long to realise something was weird. His toothbrush kept snagging on something.

Leaning towards the mirror he curled his lips to try and figure out what was going on. The minty suds were pink and covering everything, so he spat and rinsed before trying again. His toothbrush hit the sink with a clatter as he stared. He leaned even closer, sure he had to be hallucinating, but no, his incisors and his first molar on each side, top and bottom were gone, replaced by much sharper, deadlier looking fangs, poking just over the normal level of his teeth.

Fear ripped into him, adrenalin spiking like lightning through his body. At which point the unthinkable happened; there was a weird, sliding sensation in his upper jaw and the front upper fangs elongated. He grabbed for the counter, and something clattered on the surface, making him look down.

There on each finger of his hands were long, deadly looking, almost completely black claws.

Every instinct in him screamed this could not be happening. He had to be hallucinating. As if the universe was laughing at him, when he looked in the mirror again, red, almost glowing eyes were glaring back at him.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god," he muttered, over and over again as he stumbled backwards until he hit the far wall.

He slid down it, staring at his hands, trembling uncontrollably.

All he could do was sit there as his brain completely failed to process what was going on. He might have stayed there forever, except, as his heartrate gradually slowed and cold shock took over from utter terror, the claws began to retract. It was like watching a rose bud unfurl as the black sunk back under his skin, uncurling as it went, until the pale tips flattened completely, settling back in place almost like perfectly ordinary nails.

Up close they looked thicker and sturdier than they had, but at a glance no one would see the difference. He'd seen so much since he was dragged into the madness of the Upside Down, but this completely stalled his higher thoughts.

For a while he sat there, staring at nothing, only moving when his backside had gone completely numb. Forcing himself to stand up and stepping back to the mirror, he wiped off the steam and made himself look. Perfectly ordinary hazel eyes gazed back. Only when he opened his mouth wide, examining his teeth could he see anything different, and even they weren't that noticeable.

He looked, for wont of a better word, predatory.

Forcing himself to act, rather than react, he finished off cleaning his teeth, then dressing, including slipping a pair of shades on his nose because his room was uncomfortably bright. It was only when he picked up his watch to put it back on that he finally looked at it. Yet more shock coursed through him. It wasn't evening anymore, it was morning. Nothing made sense. He needed time to figure it all out. Picking up the phone from his bedside table, he dialled the familiar number.

"Family Video, how can we help you?" came Robin's comforting voice after he dialled.

"Hey, Robs," he said, putting on his best I-am-dying-of-a-virus voice, "can you tell Keith I won't be in today please. I think I've got the flu."

"Oh no," Robin replied, "you sound awful. Do you need me to pick you anything up after work?"

"Nah," he replied, keeping his tone light, "the medicine cabinet is well stocked. Just, could you keep the kids away for me, please. I don't want anyone else to get this."

"I could bring you some soup," she suggested.

"Thanks," he replied, "but I don't want you getting it either. I still have some your mom gave me after the whole Vecna fiasco in the freezer. I promise I will eat and sleep and stay hydrated."

"Well, if you're sure, Dingus," she told him, "but I expect updates, or I am coming over there myself."

"Aye, aye, Cap'n," he replied and made her laugh. "Thanks, Robs."

"No problem, feel better soon, Stevie," she said.

After saying goodbye, he set about his new appointed task.

For the next four days he locked himself away, fobbing everyone off with the flu story. He tested his limits, tried to figure out what had happened to him. It became obvious very quickly he was much stronger and faster than he had been.

The weights he kept in his closet were like playing with the baking weights his grandmother had had on her scales when he was small. He found a thick tree branch in the woods out back and snapped it like a twig. Then there was how fast he could move, crossing a room in a fraction of the time it should have taken, along with reflexes to match.

And there was the need for red meat. He needed other food as well, but when the cravings hit, the only thing that would do was some of the steak in his refrigerator. He had a nasty suspicion it was really the blood he was after, but that thought was one step too far. If he ignored his hunger, his more animalistic changes came out and demanded he do something about it. He also discovered he could force them out at will if he wanted to.

He was pretty sure it all came back to one thing, the demobat. He remembered very clearly the disgusting taste of its blood in his mouth. He had spat it out, but some had slipped down his throat anyway. It had burned in his stomach, almost making him sick. If there hadn't been more pressing matters at the time, it might have done. He had never guessed that it would have consequences.

He had questions, so many questions, but, eventually, the biggest one he could not avoid was, was he dangerous? Was he a monster that needed destroying like Billy had been? If he hurt anyone, he would never forgive himself.

He thought of going to the professionals, but even though they had cooperated to save Hawkins, he didn't trust the government at far as he could throw them. Getting a straight answer out of them was as likely as an ice cube surviving in hell. Keeping him as a lab specimen or an attack dog were dangerously possible scenarios. That only left one person he knew would be honest, but also practical.

An hour later he was knocking on Hopper's door. The once again police chief had moved back into his cabin with El after it had been repaired and were preparing for a Byers invasion soon. The government hush money was paying for a lot of building work to turn it into a much bigger family home because the Hopper/Byers merge was about to become an official thing. It seemed Joyce and Hopper were of the opinion they had wasted enough time.

"Hey, Steve," Hopper greeted, "glad to see you're feeling better. What can I do for you?"

"I need to see El," he said, "is she here?"

It was a Saturday, but it was still early, so he hoped El was still at home. He knew the kids often congregated at someone's house on Saturday mornings. Will was still missing from the group, but would be back soon as his family moved back from California.

"She's just finished breakfast," Hopper told him. "What's this about, Steve?"

"It's ..." he tried to come up with an excuse, but words failed him.

Luckily, El appeared in the doorway behind Hopper. She gave him a long, appraising look.

"Been dreaming about the Upside Down again?" she asked as if it was some kind of continuing conversation.

"Yeah," he said, taking the out for what it was.

"Come on then," she said, holding out her hand and neatly stepping past Hopper. "We won't be long," she said with a sweet smile.

For a moment Hopper looked like he would ask more questions, but El clearly had his number. Steve followed meekly as El led him away from the house. It wasn't until they were in a secluded spot surrounded by trees that she dropped his hand and turned to him.

"What is it really?" she asked with her usual straightforwardness.

He took a deep breath as all his words failed him.

"This," he eventually said, pulling off his shades, closing his eyes and forcing the physical changes to the surface.

He heard El gasp and step back, but he forced himself to open his eyes and look at her. She was tensed for an attack, which all but killed him. He'd got to know her pretty well when she and Hopper borrowed his spare rooms for a couple of weeks while their place was made habitable, and he considered her one of his to protect, even if she could kick his and most enemies asses all by herself.

"I need you to tell me if I'm dangerous. Am I going to hurt people?" he said, holding as still as he possibly could. "I need to know if they should lock me up, or worse."

At his words, El's body language changed. She frowned, brow furrowing, but she relaxed, at least slightly.

"When did this happen?" she asked.

"It's been happening for months, since spring break," he admitted, "but slowly. This," he indicated his physical changes, "I only saw them this week."

"That's why you've been refusing to see anyone," El concluded.

He nodded.

"Have you had the urge to attack anyone?" she asked.

He shook his head this time.

"I get tetchy and moody if I don't get red meat every day, but nothing like that," he explained. "I tried going without for a day this week, and it wasn't pretty, but I didn't try and eat the postman."

El relaxed some more and stepped back towards him. However, he was surprised when she reached out to take his hand again, claws and all.

"Demobat," she said, turning his hand over in hers. "Nancy told me all about what happened when you and she and Robin and Eddie were in the Upside Down. Let's sit down," she added, leading him over to a log.

They sat, face to face, and El took his other hand as well.

"Let me see," she said, looking straight into his eyes, before closing hers in concentration.

That she could do that now without any help said a lot about how her powers had grown.

It was the weirdest sensation as he followed suit and let her do whatever she needed to. It was, however, strangely easy, as if, somehow, they meshed. Between one blink and the next, Steve found himself standing in a shadowy landscape. Amorphous shapes moved around him, but he wasn't afraid.

"We are in your mind," El's voice cut through his confusion, and he turned to find her standing behind him. "The changes are more obvious here."

He followed her eyes and looked down at himself. He was dressed how he had been when he was attacked by the demobats, shirtless, only his lower arms, hands, and part of his chest were covered with leathery scales. His bare feet were also scaled with black claws like his fingers.

"Steve," El said and her voice reverberated with power, making him look up.

She had her hands up, stance determined and ready for combat. She looked every inch the powerful psychic she was, not the girl she tried to be, and part of him wanted to attack, to defend himself, but it was a very small part. He couldn't let himself endanger the kids. If he was dangerous, if there were traces of Vecna in him, if El thought he was too much of a risk, he would let her do what had to be done.

Invisible hands picked him up, lifting him off the ground. Shapes swirled out of the mist, dangerous snarling shapes, but he pushed them back. As the hold on his neck tightened, he closed his eyes, refusing to give in to the self-preservation instincts screaming at the back of his mind.

"I'm so sorry, Steve," El said.

"Do it," he whispered, accepting her judgement.

The invisible forces holding him tightened further. He couldn't breathe. Now he struggled, instinct too hard to beat, but he held the monster inside. He would not try and hurt El. He refused.

What shocked the hell out of him was when the pressure on his neck suddenly lessened and he found himself being lowered gently back to the ground. He didn't understand as the invisible force released him. Opening his eyes he saw El give him a small smile before, between one blink and the next, he found himself sitting on the log once more.

"You're not dangerous, Steve," El told him, wiping her nose on the back of her hand. "No more than I am. I'm sorry I had to do that."

"No," he assured her, even as he sagged as something inside him released, "I wanted you to. Thank you."

He might have dissolved into a heap at that point, but there was one more very important thing he had to tell her.

"There's something else," he said, doing his best to pull himself together.