||𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

"It's like... It's like I feel what the shadow monster's feeling. See what he's seeing,"

Will was sitting next to me on the edge of his bed. He looked awful. He was drenched with sweat and he was unnaturally pale. If I looked carefully enough I could see him shaking. It broke my heart to see him like this—to hear what he is going through.

"Like in the Upside Down?" Mike asked.

Mike was pacing around Will's room, his fingers lightly running along the wall of drawings. Will's tunnels. According to Will, that's what he was seeing in what he called his 'now memories'. More specifically, it sounds like what the Shadow Monster is inadvertently showing him.

"Some of him is there," Will said, his eyes never leaving the wall. "But some of him is here, too."

"Like, in the house?" I asked gently, and Will twitched.

Maybe because I hadn't spoken in a while.

He looked at me for a brief moment but refused to meet my eyes.

"In this house and..." he looked away. "in me. It's like... it's like he's reaching into Hawkins more and more. And the more he spreads, the more connected to him I feel."

Mike had taken a seat on the other side of Will.

"The more you see these now-memories." Will nodded at Mike's words, his eyes still fixed on the floor.

"Is there anything else you can tell us? About these now-memories?" I ask gently.

Will begins fidgeting, he squirmed a bit and it almost seemed like he was inching away from me. I brushed it off.

"At first I just felt it in the back of my head. I didn't even know it was really there. It's like when you have a dream and you can't remember it unless you think really hard." His voice was shaking, his hands were too.

"It was like that. But now it's like..." His brows scrunched up, trying to find the right words. "Now I remember. I remember all the time."

Mike and I shared an equally worried look, and Mike spoke up.

"Maybe... Maybe that's good."

"Good?"

I gave Mike a curious look.

"Just think about it," He nodded, looking between the two of us. "You're like a spy now. A superspy. Spying on the Shadow Monster."

I could have sworn I saw Will give me an uncomfortable side look. He was getting squirmy again. I tried to act like I didn't see it, but I couldn't help but pick up on his odd behavior towards me.

"If you know what he's seeing and feeling," Another glance. "Maybe that's how we can stop him."

I smiled slightly at Mike's words. He had a point, and I looked at all the pictures around us. Of the now-memories. I nodded eagerly, looking from Mike to Will. Subconsciously, I must have angled myself to face Will more, I realized.

"Mike makes a good point, Will. Maybe all of this is happening for a reason."

Will contemplated this for a short moment, but then he looked to Mike.

"You really think so?"

That was more difficult to brush off. For some unknown reason, I felt embarrassed despite knowing I had done nothing wrong. More than anything that ache in my heart that brought me here to help Will was only growing—like I was getting farther and farther from him despite him seated at my side. I looked down at my lap and tried to mask my hurt as I looked back at Mike. The empathetic look on his face told me he didn't understand Will's cold shoulder to me either, but he played it off quickly and nodded at Will.

"Yeah. Yeah, I do," He gestured to me. "We both do. Right Y/n?"

I smile gratefully, and I turned to Will. "Absolutely,"

He flinched ever so slightly at my voice. I felt my heart breaking more, but I tried to shove my feelings aside. This isn't about me, this is about Will and being there for him. I can't imagine what this must be like. So what if he was a little irritable? I would be too.

But I couldn't stop myself from wondering.

'Why wasn't he like this with anyone else?'

I pulled myself from my thoughts, and I noticed Will looking down at his drawing of the Shadow Monster, and I did too. Just knowing this is exactly what Will saw, made everything more chilling than it already was.

And just looking at the drawing reminded me this thing was with us in a way. I was glaring at it now. I'm mad—no—livid. That this thing had attached itself to Will. And here we had just gotten him back. He had just gotten back.

Will was grave, he looked and sounded terrified—not that I blame him.

"What if he figures out we're spying on him?" I heard him sniffle, and his voice was trembling just as much as he was. "What if he spies back?"

I know it's crazy but at that moment he sounded more like the Will I know than he had in all the time we had been here.

"He won't," I said determinedly.

He met my eye for a split second. It was the first time he had properly acknowledged me since I got here and I could have sworn his eyes were filled with warning. I brushed it off, writing it off as a misconception, not knowing just how much I'd regret it. I was much too focused on his shaking hand.

"He won't. We won't let him, I won't let-"

Instinctively, I grabbed his trembling hand, hoping to calm him as I have done countless times. But my palm had barely grazed him when immediately he ripped his hand away, grasping it in his other. I jumped back startled.

His whole body was shaking visibly, and he stared at his hand, before slowly looking up to meet my eyes. He was glaring at me as if I had just slapped him in the face, hand cradled in the other.

"W-Will? Are you okay, I'm sorry-" I tripped over my words, now more embarrassed than ever. "Look, I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"Get out," he whispered.

My mouth ran dry and I frowned in confusion. I looked desperately to Mike who seemed just as shocked.

"What-?" My voice came out in a broken whisper, and now I was beginning to tremble.

"I said get out."

Rising to my feet quickly, I backed away towards his door. Hot tears of embarrassment clouded my vision and I wished I could leave faster but my limbs felt like they were made of lead. I guess I wasn't going fast enough because he began shouting at me.

"GET THE HELL OUT OF MY HOUSE!"

Mike now had a firm grip on Will's shoulders. He was looking frantically between us, either trying to calm him down or ready to hold Will back in case he lunged for me.

"What's going on?"

The voice of Mrs. Byers brought me out of my stupor and I looked at her, apologetically. I was now in the hallway and she had just reached Will's door. She glanced between me and Will frantically. I quickly backed away, stumbling a bit. I tried to find the words to explain, but all I could muster an apology.

"I-I'm sorry," I croaked, walking backward. "Sorry,"

I turned and fled through the living room, grabbed my backpack off the couch, and ran through the open door.

||𝟑𝐑𝐃 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

"What happened? W-what was that?" Joyce asked, kneeling down in front of her son.

Mike had let go, but Will was burning holes in the doorway through which Y/n had disappeared. He neglected to speak so Mike volunteered.

"She just touched his hand, and he- I guess she-?" He tried to find more words but he seemed hesitant to speak in front of Will.

Mrs. Byers stood and beckoned Mike into the hall with her.

Once they were around the corner, he immediately began speaking rapidly in a hushed whisper.

"She didn't do anything, Mrs. Byers, I swear! I saw the whole thing. She just grabbed his hand, he was shaking a lot and I guess she was just trying to comfort him or something. But he snapped, he just flipped out on her, I don't-" he sighed, glancing worriedly after her.

Joyce nodded and ran after Y/n. She wanted to talk to her and get her to stay. She knew how much Y/n cared for Will, and how she would never do anything to upset him on purpose.

Joyce dashed out of the open door, she had already noticed Y/n's stuff was gone. But by the time she reached the porch, Y/n was peddling down the driveway. She rounded the bushes and disappeared into the night.

Back in Will's room, Mike stood before his best friend.

"Will..." Mike shook his head slightly, at a loss for words. "What was that?"

Will, who still had his eyes fixed on the doorway, slowly looked up at Mike. He seemed different. Angrier. When he spoke, Mike felt a chill run down his spine. Will's voice held no emotion and he seemed distant. And cold.

Not himself.

"It needed to be said, Mike. She needed to leave," he said, his eyes boring into Mike, suddenly very still.

What he said next only confirmed the fact he was not himself.

"She got in his way."

Will paused and slowly looked away, blinking a couple of times. He stared at the wall for a moment, and he seemed to return to normal like he was pulled out of a long thought. Or perhaps, even dream. He glanced back at Mike who was staring at him, dumbfounded

Will had seen the shock on Mike's face and he tilted his head slightly in confusion.

"What?"

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Y/n sped down Mirkwood, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her bike was unsteady, her hand frequently returning to her face, wiping her nose on her sleeve.

She replayed the moment in her head over and over and over, never completely understanding what happened. What she had done wrong.

All she could think about was how he looked at her. The disgust in his eyes. How repulsed he was. More sobs escaped her and she scolded herself. She didn't know why. She just felt so... ashamed.

Why? She wondered. She hadn't done anything wrong, that she knew. But it did nothing to ease the pain in her heart.

Something in the back of her mind thought that her bike handles were harder to grip. Wet? She didn't know, she hardly acknowledged it, much too distressed to worry about it.

"GET THE HELL OUT OF MY HOUSE"

The words echoed loudly in her head and Y/n felt her heart break in two, all over again.

Will never spoke to her like that. Hell, he never yelled at all, much less at her. He was always so soft-spoken and gentle. And so kind. That's what she liked about him. But this was different.

Her hands slipped a few times from the handles but she just grabbed them once more.

No matter what she told herself, a voice in her head fed her ridiculous lies.

It was completely inappropriate to have grabbed his hand. To invade his space like that. It shouldn't be a surprise to her, the voice argued. He was clearly uncomfortable around her, flinching and constantly moving away from her. He clearly didn't want to see her. After all, if he did, he would have confided in her in the first place. Not Mike.

But she invited herself over here, against his wishes, and inserted herself. He had every right to yell at her. She was selfish.

No. No, that's not what happened at all, she told herself. She did what he would have done for her, she was just trying to help. She wasn't being selfish.

Y/n was so absorbed in her thoughts, that she nearly missed her house. The flickering of her bike light brought her out of her thoughts and back to her surroundings. She realized she had already passed the driveway. In a panicked attempt not to miss, she jerked the oddly slippery handles much too quickly. Any balance she once had was now gone as her bike was ripped out from underneath her and she was sent tumbling across her lawn, landing flat on her stomach.

Heavy pants were ripped from her chest as Y/n recovered from the small shock. Her arms trembled as she tried to push herself up but she winced. She had landed on her elbow weird and it was sore now. She just hoped she hadn't sprained anything. Y/n cried out in frustration at the incident. Just what she needed, she thought. Another reason to feel humiliated and stupid. She was still crying, but she pushed herself up and onto her knees.

She sniffled, and her eyes fell right where her hands just were. There in the grass were two singed and charred spots, in the shape of two perfect handprints.

A gasp would have left her lips had she had the energy. Once again, she had somehow burned something with the touch of her hands. A horrible thought struck her.

What if that's why Will snapped at her? She obviously couldn't control her recently discovered power, but what if she seriously hurt him?

She shook her head, more tears brimming in her eyes and she rose to her feet and sprinted inside. Her mother called after her but she sprinted down the hall, and into her room slamming the door behind her.

She dove onto her bed and her body bounced a bit when she hit the mattress. It wasn't until she placed her head on her pillow had Y/n realized how exhausted she was.

That must have been what happened. It was the only explanation, right? She must have gotten herself all worked up again—that's when it always seemed to happen. When she was angry.

She began slipping in and out of consciousness, but she realized something that didn't quite make sense.

Aside from the concern for her friend, she was perfectly calm when talking to him. Not angry.

And with that, she felt herself sinking into the depths of unconsciousness.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

With cautious steps, Hopper navigated the underground tunnels. The small beam from his flashlight traveled along the grey grimy walls of the tunnels, and hundreds of little dead flakes hung in the air around him.

A sharp piercing screech echoed off the walls and Hopper winced, pulling out his gun. His flashlight and gun in hand, he scanned his surroundings only to find nothing but his odd surroundings. Still, at attention and on defense, he continued on.

He had to step over several bumps and roots in the tunnel, but when he turned the corner his courage faltered. A sudden hiss, similar to the screech heard moments before, traveled through the tunnels. Hopper attempted to calm his breathing, doing his best to ignore the flakes entering his lungs with every labored breath.

The farther he ventured into the tunnels, the more death and decay hung in the air. His attention was suddenly drawn to the ceiling of the tunnels where another hiss emanated from. This, he realized, was the source of the noise. It was a large plant, slightly bigger than his own head, growing out of the wall. It moved suddenly inward as if taking a deep breath.

Without warning, the pod spits hundreds of specks, and Hopper recoiled at the sudden burst of spores raining down on him. He fell into a heavy coughing fit and stumbled back into the wall, cringing at its slimy texture. Unfortunately, he looked up just in time to be blasted by another cloud of spores where a smaller plant was attached to the wall.

Fighting the urge to gag, he turned and fled down the passage, hoping to find his way back. Though the more he moved, the weaker he began to feel. He stopped for a moment, still clutching the slippery tunnel walls to the best of his ability, and he noticed his vision had begun to blur.

He rubbed his eyes with his sleeves but it was all for naught, and he collapsed to the floor. The last thing he saw before he fell into unconsciousness, was the entrance to the tunnels he had created, weaving itself shut, swallowing him in darkness.