📝: from the bottom of my heart, thank you guys for being so patient. A lot of you might know that I struggle with depression and while it's never been life-threatening, and still isn't, I do get really low sometimes. And it's been one of those times, unfortunately. It's also, at times, simply hard to write. I am trying though, so your patience and understanding have taken an unbelievable load off my shoulders! love you so much and I look forward to any feedback!!

⚠️: never thought I'd have to put this in as a warning pfftst but public urination 💀, also reader interacting endearingly with a cat lol [I know some people are either allergic and/or hate cats. Apologies, it is the Hendersons after all 😂]

❓: based on what we currently know after the 004 trailer, what are you most excited to see in ST 4? and what are you most looking forward to seeing in COSMIC 4? for me, I think it's the dynamic for Mike and Y/n after Will and El have moved 🤔😇 at least, that's something I'm looking forward to that's not a major plot spoiler 😀

||𝟑𝐑𝐃 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

"Code red, I repeat, code red,"

The words bounced off the four, endless concrete walls as Dustin paced, his voice disappearing into the endless abyss that was the elevator shaft. He had been trying for too long now to get a signal, an answer, anything. Well, anything other than the Russians intercepting his message.

"Does anyone copy? This is a code red, I repeat, a code red. This is a code red, I repeat, a code red. Does anyone copy? We are innocent children and we are trapped under Starcourt Mall. The Red Army has infiltrated Hawkins, and if we are found, they will torture and kill us,"

"Hey!" Dustin's head shot over to the hatch in the floor at the unexpected response. Steve. "Gotta take it easy on that thing, okay? Gonna drain the battery."

"The mall just opened,"

"So?"

"So someone could be in range,"

"What do you think, Petey the Mall Cop is gonna repel down here and save the day?" Steve scoffs, beginning to hoist himself out of the hatch.

"Alright, why are you being such a cranky-pants after getting to spend the night with Robin?" He whispers.

Steve stills, going wide-eyed, and he shushes the kid. "Shh! Jesus Christ! Will you just give up on your creepy dream already?"

"I heard you guys talking all night," Dustin shrugs.

"Yeah. We were trying to figure out a way to open up the door while you children were sleeping. After eight hours..." he scoffs again, his voice cracking under the pressure of their situation. "we're still exactly nowhere, which is, you know probably just a little bit of the reason why I'm feeling just... a tad cranky."

When Steve reaches the far corner, his back to Dustin, Dustin, unfortunately, notes the sound of Steve's zipper as the young man undoubtedly prepares to empty his bladder.

"What are you doing?" He can't help but cry in disgust.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Steve grumbled. "I'm taking a leak. Look away. Look away!"

Dustin finally manages to snap himself out of his stupor and turns around with a grimace.

Down below, Robin studied the panel with furrowed brows before a trickling sound pulled her attention away to the far wall. Sure enough, in the far upper corner, she spotted liquid staining the concrete black as it trickled down the wall.

With great agitation, she called up to the perpetrator with disgust laced in her voice.

"Can you redirect your stream, please?"

No verbal response was given, only the trickle of said stream wobbling across the wall and out of sight.

"Ugh," she grimaced, turning back to the panel only for her attention to be stolen away again.

The sudden clanging of metal brought Robin's eyes to Erica who held the vile of mysterious substance in hand. Tongue poking out from her lips in concentration, she stood banging the vile against the shelf until it cracked.

Panicked, Robin raced to her side.

"Hey, hey! Be careful, careful, careful!" She urges, taking it from the girl's hands. "We don't even know what that is,"

"Exactly," Erica countered. "It could be useful."

"Useful how?"

"We can survive down here a long time without food, but if the human body doesn't get water, it will die."

"I hate to break it to you," Robin said, holding out the vial. "but this is not water."

"No, but it's a liquid, and if it comes down to me drinking that shit, or dying of thirst," she plastered on a smirk. "I drink."

A tired laugh threatens Robin when the quiet, yet again, is disturbed. The sound is very faint, so faint she isn't even sure she was hearing it until she pressed her ear against the closed doors. Her stomach dropped.

"We've got company!" She alerts, popping up into view and alerting the Dingus Duo.

The two look down at the girl near their feet before meeting eyes. They needed to think quickly.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The hum of the wheels barreling down the long stretch of halls finally came to a halt with a screech and a squeak of the rubber against concrete. The two guards stepped off the cart and made their way to the key lock to the side father wall in several sluggish steps. The key card slid into the lock with a satisfying click and the light shone a bright green. A deep, mechanic rumble took over the doors as they steadily crept for the ceiling and revealed... a rather scattered stack of boxes and nothing more. Boredly, they stepped inside to collect their first pile. The second guard paused, his nose scrunching up his face as a foul smell wafted over his nose.

"You smell that?" He asked.

His partner turned to him disgruntled, box in hand. "What?" He asked impatiently.

"Piss."

His friend lazily sniffed the air, getting mostly the smoke trickling off the end of the cigarette hanging from his lips. And the hint of something else. He shrugged, eager to move and get back to their post.

The second man followed in his footsteps, giving up on the strange presence of the odor, and grabbed a box. The two began piling as many packages as their little red cart could safely carry, neither of them aware of the four pairs of prying eyes watching them through the grated ceiling.

Dustin, Erica, Robin, and Steve sat quietly perched around the slit of grated lights that acted as a window into the elevator, waiting for the all-clear. The fluorescents from the elevator shone up into their fearful faces, each of them still trying to calm their racing hearts after their last-minute scramble into hiding.

Steve hunched over the grate once more, having to shift his weight in order to watch the guards leave with the last of the boxes. But he knew they weren't in the clear yet. It was safer to wait. He looked up at everyone around them, hovering a finger over his lips and instructing them so. Only for his eyes to land on Erica and the strange device she was still holding in her hands. Everyone's eyes followed, hers included, dropping to the sealed vial of the mysterious glowing substance the Russians were importing.

She had secured an extra. And Steve knew exactly what to do with it.

Steve waited as long as he believed they possibly could after the sound of the cart's tires pulling away for him to orchestrate their escape. When the sound of the elevator's door rang in their ears as well as the elevator shaft, his heart dropped into his stomach and he threw himself through the roof hatch and onto the elevator floor. As he landed, a shock jumped up his heels and all the way up his legs. Vial in hand, he dove to the floor and on his stomach, wedging the metal vial in the path of the closing door, Raiders Style. But he wasn't done yet. Without wasting a second, he gestures up at the hatch in the ceiling where the others were waiting to leave.

"Let's go!" He ordered, careful to project his whispered voice as the trolley cart travels further and further away.

He throws his arms out, catching Erica's backpack with no effort and chucking it under the door, keeping an eye on the vial before looking back up at Erica. She dropped to the ground noiselessly, heeding his instructions and scurrying under the door to her escape.

"Go, go, go!" Steve whispers urgently in his adrenaline.

"I'm going!" She cries, making it under the door, just as anxious.

Steve looks back up at Dustin dropping through the ceiling, and he does the same. One shaky hand waving him under the door as his troubled eyes dart between the boy and the now cracking glass vile. Following in Steve's footsteps, Dustin wastes no time driving for the floor. He wedges himself out in record time, trying desperately not to let the sound of cracking glass near his ears freak him out and slow him down.

When Steve was sure Robin was at least halfway out the door, he finally followed suit. He flattened himself against the floor, his nose inches away from the vial and his stomach flipped. Several spidery cracks were crawling up the glass like webs, threatening to break at any second. In one final burst of adrenaline, he threw himself the rest of the way, just in time to hear the popping of glass and the door slamming into the ground.

Each of them cried out in surprise at their quite literal last-second escape. And at the messy, hazardous sight the broken vial left behind.

They scrambled to their feet, huddling over the hissing cloud of glowing green fog that mingled with shattered glass. Whatever the substance had been, it was already long gone, sinking into the floor as it devoured the concrete like water on cotton candy.

"Jesus Christ," Steve gasped.

The reality of just how close and careless they had been with this substance was now just hitting them, and just how close they had been to touching it.

Robin threw half a glance at Erica as they all peered around the disappearing fog. "You still wanna drink that?"

Dustin straightened, looking over his shoulder only to pale, his face falling in shock.

"Holy mother of God,"

The path - the only path - laid out before them was a single tunnel that stretched on for miles. Neither one of them could see an end nor a turn of any kind and they all collectively sighed.

They had a long trek ahead of them.

||𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

"How... did you even get yourself in this situation?"

Will shakes his head in mild bewilderment as I help detangle the poor boy from the long strand that was Tews' new cat toy.

"I'm still not quite sure," he admits, unwrapping the last of the bungee cord out from under his arm with a bashful laugh. All the while, the small jingle of Tews' bell tinkling around as she pounced after the bouncing cord was begging for our attention.

"Don't play innocent with me," I lightly scold, looking down at the doe-eyed, mischief-bringing hellraiser of a growing kitten who was now playing innocent and mewling up at us. "You incapacitated my boyfriend."

Another high-pitched meow; undoubtedly mewls of deceit.

Tossing the cord back on the loveseat, I crouch down to scoop the kitten up and bury my face between her ears to plant a kiss. Peering up at Will as I cradle her close, I sigh in defeat. "Damn. She's good,"

He laughs, and I rejoin him on the couch for reruns of Family Ties neither of us had really been paying much attention to. Setting Tews down in my lap and draping my legs over Will's, she immediately made a break for the smirking boy and I laugh, plopping my head back on the couch cushions. I watched with a fond smile as he dangled the stuffed mouse out for the kitten who was now trying ever so hard to balance on her hind legs as she bat at the tail of the mouse.

"You're having way too much fun with this," I say.

His smile only widens and he continues to play with Tews.

My attention is quickly stolen by my mother scurrying in from the hallway and making her way into the kitchen, purse in hand.

"Oh, Will!" She beams, taking the time to make conversation as she prepares her lunch in the kitchen. "Hi there, dear. I'm sorry, I didn't even hear you come in,"

"No worries, Mrs. Henderson," Will says as he scoots forward to stand with Tews held tight.

"Oh, honey that's sweet, but how long have we known each other? Besides, I just picked up an extra shift, I'm leaving here in a minute anyway," Will nods and settles back in, smiling back down at the pleased kitten in his arms. Suddenly more stern, she meets my gaze as she digs for her lunch bag. "Pumpkin, did you offer him anything to eat yet? A drink?"

'You'd think after all these years I'd be used to the embarrassment, but--'

Will doesn't say a word or look me in the eye, but his grin has grown a bit more teasing as he plays with Tews.

'--nope.'

"Yes, I did. We just had some snacks about five minutes ago," I say, sneaking a small glare towards Will for his silence when she wasn't looking. He just chuckled under his breath.

"Good, good," she mutters, too absorbed in what she was doing to notice. That was until, "So Will,"

His head perked up.

"Tell me, how's your mom? How's Jonathan? I heard he got a new job at the Hawkins Post!"

"Yeah, he did," Will nodded, his tone changing. I could tell he was proud. He did always look up to Jonathan and this was an exciting opportunity for him. "As a junior photographer. He's more of an intern right now, but it's still a great start for him,"

"That's terrific!" Mom said, hooking her lunch bag on her wrist and grabbing her keys off the counter. She was always like this; she always adored Will. More often than not, she'll get caught up in a conversation with him anytime he's over. It could be awkward at times, but then again I was the exact same with Joyce. "I'm not surprised either, I've seen his work. He's got a real good eye. We'll have to keep an eye out in the paper - that'll be so exciting!"

I buried my forehead in my hand, rubbing at my temples in embarrassment. Will just smiled between me, Tews, and my mom, nodding in agreement. That was another habit of hers; she often ran the conversation when she was in a hurry. Or excited. Or both.

"Oh, well, I better go. My shift starts soon and it takes about twenty minutes to get there."

"It was nice seeing you, Mrs. Henderson,"

"Oh, you too, hon! Stay hi to your mom for me," Mom grabbed for the door, backing out but not before calling over her shoulder for me. "I'll be back later baby. I love you,"

I managed a smile and sent her a small wave. "I love you, too. Drive safe,"

Scrunching up her nose up in thanks, she turned to leave. The door was pulled shut quickly behind her, unfortunately startling the on-edge kitten sitting in Will's lap.

Both of us flinched with her as she dashed the hallway, suddenly climbing up poor Will like a scratch-post in the meantime.

"Tews!" I scold, watching as she ran down the back of the couch and rocketed off for the hallway. My eyes fall back on Will as we both un-tense. He blinks back his shock with a small laugh.

"I'm so sorry," I apologize, utterly embarrassed. "She's been so jumpy lately, I should have warned you. Are you okay?"

He chuckled again, flashing me a smile to ease my guilt as we checked for injuries. "Yeah, I'm alright. It happens,"

Sure enough, three bright red streaks where Tews' claws had caught his unsleeved right forearm.

"Oh-- shit. Will, your arm," I said, cupping my hand around his wrist and pulling his arm closer for a better look.

He didn't seem to realize the injury was even there until I pointed it out. But it was there, the blood already pooling in beads around his enflamed, pinkened skin. He started hissing a little when I guided the back of his hand to get a better look, but he still brushed it off.

"I'm fine, really,"

"Yeah, but it could still get infected," I mumbled, carefully flicking away the stray cat hair around the wound with my fingertips. I looked up at him when I heard him laugh under his breath.

"What?"

"Nothing," he smiled. "It's just, you haven't really changed." I frowned a little. "It's a good thing." He reassured. A fond look came into his eyes and he chuckled under his breath again. "Remember the summer before sixth grade? You and Dustin roped us into playing baseball in your back yard and Mike skinned his knee?"

I thought for a second, recalling the memory before a smile slowly sprouted on my face. I could still feel Will smiling at me and my ears slowly began to burn as he told the story with such fondness. "You two had been butting heads all day - the rest of us were actually starting to think you weren't gonna speak to each other after that. But the second he got hurt, you ran inside and came out with this -" Will began gesturing with his hands, his forearm leaving my hand. "little first aid kit even though he just skinned his knee. He even tried to tell you but you said-"

-"'Shut up and let me help you,'" we both finished, and I nodded, unable to fight the laughter creeping up.

I did remember that. I was pissed off at Mike that day, and funny enough, I can't remember why. But I did understand what he was getting at.

It was the same way Dustin was always making sure everyone had enough to eat, or the way Lucas was always protecting us - whether it was thinking ahead or speaking up - it was always for the safety of the group. And how Will was always making sure we were all having fun. We all looked out for each other in our own ways.

"And he did," I said promptly and shooting him a matter-of-fact grin. "And so should you."

We both chuckled again as I took his forearms in my hands, and carefully pulled him closer, his lips on mine.

I could feel his smile on my lips and after a moment I pull away, flashing him a knowing smile. "Now come on," I said, rising from the couch and gesturing for the kitchen. "Let's run that under some water, get it cleaned out."

Despite the subtle roll of his eyes, a grin split his lips and he complied. "You know," he began, rising off the couch and snatching up my hand. "one of these days we're gonna get back at you."

I shot him a funny look, not quite sure what he was getting at.

"You take care of everyone," he clarifies, nudging me with his elbow. "Someday you gotta let us take care of you."

- 𝗘𝗡𝗗 𝗢𝗙 𝗙𝗟𝗔𝗦𝗛𝗕𝗔𝗖𝗞 -

"It was the same thing-- the exact same thing that happened to Will last year."

I remember going into the kitchen and dressing the wound; he washed it out in the sink and I helped apply a disinfectant before applying a bandage. But that's all it was, a stupid little band-aid.

"--Okay so this crazy old woman who was eating fertilizer--" "--Mrs. Driscoll," --right, yeah, Mrs. Driscoll."

But I also remember the campaign planning days later; it was almost completely healed in less than two days, come to think of it, it should have taken at least a week judging by how deep it was. We had both brushed it off at the time, thinking it had seemed much worse than it was.

Just as Will had pointed out that day, I've always been the one, more often than not, who has the band-aids on hand ever since we were young. I've bandaged countless scrapes and applied many cold compresses through the years but there's never been total healing this fast before.

"Y/n?"

Has there?

"Y/n?"

I turn to Will at the sound of his voice, and I'm shot back to reality. When I finally land, I shift subconsciously under everyone's stare. My mind was still in a daze, even when the three of us were practically pulled out of the bathroom and onto the couch where Jonathan and Nancy were waiting for us.

Apparently, they've been dealing with a whole different piece of the puzzle; just like old times, I suppose. The Party, Nancy, and Jonathan, and Hopper, and Joyce. And me, finding some twisted new thing about myself along the way that makes me even more of a liability to my loved ones.

The thought left a bitter aftertaste, but I knew I couldn't sit on this for long.

"Look, it could be nothing," I clarify, sharing a looming eye with Max and El before turning to Will and the rest of the group. "But there's a good chance that-that I... healed Max?"

Everyone remained quiet.

"You healed Max?" Nancy finally asked, looking between us. "What does that mean?"

I shrugged, still not understanding it myself. "I healed Max."

"Like healed Max, or 'oh, you know, you healed Max'?" Nancy pressed, sounding more and more frazzled.

"I healed Max. I think."

"What's the big deal? So she healed her?" Jonathan cut in.

"No, Johnathan, I. healed. Max."

Jonathan and I were locked in possibly the most awkward staredown of our lives; Finally, his face dropped, prompting a few sighs around the room.

"There it is," Max quipped, leaning back into the couch with a tired look.

"Well, what does this mean then? I thought you could only heal yourself?"

My shoulders yank up in involuntary defense. "I really don't know! Hell, I'm in the dark as much as you. But does it matter -- right now, anyway? If what you're saying is true, that means we could have another spy on our hands."

No one had anything to say that, surprisingly.

"What time did all this happen?" I ask.

"Last night."

"But what time last night?" Will asked.

Nancy thought for only a moment. "Uh, around nine."

I looked around at my friends in vindication -- all of us seeming to share the same grim thought.

Jonathan, meanwhile, dropped his voice in a shocked whisper. "You didn't call?"

"I was waiting for the doctors to run some tests,"

"You weren't there?" Gawked Will.

This time, it was Jonathan's turn to grow defensive. "I'm here now, aren't I?"

Nancy scoffed. "Hallelujah!"

Lucas and I winced.

"Um, so--" Nancy rubbed at her temples, brushing the subject aside with no hesitation. "What time was your... sauna test?"

-"Around nine," we all answered.

"So that proves it! That proves my theory!"

Mike nods his head in agreement. "She's flayed, just like Billy."

"Flayed?"

"The Mind Flayer, he flays people. He takes over their mind. Once they do that, they basically become him."

All our eyes fall on Lucas as he cuts in, unknowingly speaking my mind. "If there are two flayed--"

"--then we have to assume there more." Will finished.

A quiet voice to my right speaks out for the first time since Jonathan and Nancy's arrival.

"Heather," El said, worry creeping onto her face. "Billy was doing something to her. She was scared. She was screaming. Bad screams."

Max and I looked at one another.

"What's a good scream?" Asked Lucas.

"Max said--"

"Doesn't matter!"

Under any other circumstances, I would have laughed at Max's comment. But Nancy had already moved on.

"I'm sorry, I'm lost. Who is Heather?"

"She's a lifeguard at the pool."

"Heather Holloway?" We all nod and both Nancy and Jonathan's eyes widened like saucers.

-"Tom."

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

I'm the last to leave the house. Everyone was scurrying for the station wagon up ahead of me, and I stopped only to make sure the door was properly closed. Joining Mike and Will at the top of the driveway, I noticed their -- specifically Mike's -- sullen look.

Following their gaze, I see El eagerly pile in the backseat after Max. Lucas after El.

"Get used to it Mikey," I pat his back and head for the trunk with a knowing smile, earning a questioning look from the boy. It looked like it was going to be a tight squeeze. "this is what being a better friend looks like,"

Swinging the trunk door open, I climbed to the far end of the mini seats and the two soon followed. Mike was packed in across from me Will and behind Lucas. Each of us had to hug our knees to ourselves just to fit our legs in.

"Seatbelts," Nancy called to us, fastening her hair back in a clip.

We all immediately complied - apart from El who was caught in a brief moment of confusion. But soon enough, the engine was roaring to life and backing down the driveway.

My eyes widened as I looked past Will's shoulder. "Oh, watch out for the--"

But everyone's bikes were already falling like dominoes on the pavement in Nancy's rush, it probably didn't help there were six heads in between her and the rearview. I winced, sharing looks with Mike and Will.

"Nevermind."

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

In honor of last week's National Day of Mourning in the US [also known as Thanksgiving], I'd like to share with you a collection of links dedicated to supporting and uplifting Native communities:

The Native American Rights Fund:

"Wacantognaka, the Lakota word for generosity, means to contribute to the well-being of one's people and all life by sharing and giving freely. Only with your generous support, can NARF achieve its mission of justice on behalf of Native Americans."

[link in comments]

The Native Wellness Fund:

"The Native Wellness Institute exists to promote the well-being of Native people through programs and trainings that embrace the teachings and traditions of our ancestors."

[link in comments]

Warrior Women Project:

"We are a collaborative of matriarchs, historians, community organizers and multimedia storytellers working to bring to light the radical impact of Indigenous women through recent history. ...Here at Warrior Women Project, we work to illuminate the past in a way that inspires a radical present."

[link in comments]