( darkest before dawn / act four )
no episode correlation | stranger things

❛ RAY AND RORY   ❜

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      AURORA STUMBLED BACK AGAINST THE COOL metal walls of the elevator, her breath coming in short, uneven gasps. Her fingers curled into fists at her sides as the lift jolted downward. She could still see Eleven's wide, uncertain eyes staring back at her, could still hear the faint echo of Brenner's voice whispering promises Aurora knew were nothing but well-crafted lies. Her stomach twisted, her thoughts running rampant. One stuck out: I left her. I left her there with him.

      The moment the elevator dinged and the doors slid open, Aurora shoved her guilt down. She had no time for second-guessing. She needed to get out.

      The hallway ahead was dim, lined with security cameras, but no guards were immediately visible. Good. She slipped forward, hugging the wall, listening for movement. Somewhere below her, alarms would be blaring soon. Brenner had let her leave, didn't even attempt to stop her, but she had no idea if he would send guards after her.

      She rounded a corner and nearly tripped over her own feet when she spotted a lone guard leaning against the wall outside a supply room, arms crossed, eyes drooping. He was half-asleep already. Perfect.

      Aurora stepped closer, focusing on the steady rise and fall of his chest, on the sluggish blink of his eyes. She let her power slip forward, the familiar hum in her veins awakening like a lullaby. The guard exhaled sharply, then his body slackened, sliding down the wall until he hit the ground in an unconscious heap.

      Aurora wasted no time. She crouched down, pulling off his boots. They were a size too big, but she shoved her feet inside anyway, lacing them up tight. She rummaged through his belt, finding a half-empty bottle of water and a crumpled protein bar. It wasn't much, but it was enough to keep her going. To find help.

She made it a few steps away from the man before she second guessed herself and turned back. Unloading his pistol from the holster, she snagged a few of his extra casings before grabbing the holster off him and buckling it to her jeans. Then she moved away from him again. The gun an unfamiliar weight on her side, but for some reason it seemed to comfort her.

      She moved quickly, sticking to the shadows as she weaved through the underground corridors. The facility was a maze, but Aurora trusted her instincts, letting them guide her toward fresh air.

      Finally, she found an exit—a heavy metal door with a push bar. She braced herself, shoved it open, and stumbled outside.

      The desert stretched out before her, vast and unforgiving. The heat smacked her in the face immediately, the air dry and suffocating. The sun had begun to set, casting the sand in shades of red and gold. Aurora took a shaky breath and turned toward the open road.

      She had no plan. No clear direction. But she had promised Eleven she'd come back.

      She promised she would come back with an army to save her, and that thought was what propelled her to step into the setting sun of the desert.

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AURORA ASSUMED DAY WOULD HAVE BEEN the worst part of her escape, and then night came.

      Cold crept in slowly, a stark contrast to the suffocating heat from earlier, until it settled deep into her bones. The emptiness that had stretched endlessly beneath the daylight now felt even more isolating under the stars. Shadows twisted along the sand, shifting with each breath of wind, and every distant noise set her nerves on edge.

The heat had burned her uncovered skin a bright red, her feet ached with the forming of blisters from the boots. The gun bounced against her thigh as she walked and every sound louder than her steps caused her to jump. The sky stretched endlessly above her, stars freckled the inky abyss; it was the kind of night that swallowed the whole world.

      She trudged forward, her legs aching, exhaustion a heavy weight on her shoulders. The pistol at her hip was a comfort, but as the sound of an approaching engine broke the silence, she knew it could just as easily be a liability.

      Aurora slowed, pulse quickening.

      A truck rumbled in the distance, kicking up a thin cloud of dust as it sped down the dirt road. The headlights carved through the darkness, too bright, too revealing. For a split second, she considered stepping off the road, disappearing into the dunes.

      Instead, she tucked the gun into the waistband of her pants, pulling her shirt over it to conceal the weapon. Then, she lifted a hand—not waving, not frantic, just enough to be seen.

      The truck didn't slow at first. It barreled past her, tires humming against the asphalt, and her stomach twisted. Then, suddenly, red brake lights flared in the night.

      Aurora stopped walking, breath caught in her throat as the truck hesitated, idling for a moment before reversing toward her. The driver's door creaked open, and a man stepped out—a silhouette against the headlights.

      "Jesus," he muttered, slamming the door shut. "What the hell are you doing out here?"

      Aurora swallowed hard, forcing herself to meet his gaze. He was older, maybe late fifties, his skin rough and weathered from the sun. His eyes flickered over her—taking in the oversized boots, the dust-covered clothes, the weariness in her stance.

      "You lost?" he asked.

      Aurora hesitated. Lying wouldn't get her anywhere, but the truth was dangerous. "I need to get to a town," she said. "Any town." Her voice was raspy, a clear reminder she hadn't rationed the little water she had stolen.

      The man exhaled sharply, glancing down the road like he was considering whether to leave her there. Finally, he jerked his head toward the truck. "Get in."

      Aurora didn't think twice. She climbed into the passenger seat, the cracked leather worn beneath her fingers, and shut the door behind her. She allowed herself to relax for a moment, the comfort of the seats soothing her aching limbs, the truck's cabin warm with the lingering scent of cigarettes and sun-baked leather. The man shut his door with a heavy thud, fingers tapping absently against the wheel before shifting the truck into gear. The engine rumbled, and they rolled forward, dust curling in the taillights behind them.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The radio crackled softly, some old country song playing low beneath the static. Aurora kept her hands in her lap, fingers twitching slightly as she resisted the urge to check if the gun was still hidden beneath her shirt.

The man glanced at her, his gaze sharp despite his otherwise easy posture. "What's your name?"

Aurora hesitated. She had already given Owens and Brenner too much of herself—her life, her childhood, her choices. They had taken everything, and she wouldn't give this stranger the last piece of her. So she gave him something else. "Rory," she said, not a lie, but not the whole truth.

He let out a quiet huff, like he didn't quite believe her but wasn't going to call her on it. "Ray." He tapped the dashboard with two fingers. "Where you headed, Rory?"

Aurora turned to the window, watching the desert stretch endlessly beneath the moonlight. Where was she going? She had no plan, no real destination—just a promise. "I don't know," she admitted. "Just... away."

Ray was quiet for a beat. Then he sighed, adjusting his grip on the wheel. "Yeah. I get that."

Silence stretched between them again, but this time, it felt less heavy. The hum of the tires against the road, the occasional rattle of the old truck—somehow, it was almost grounding.

Then, a faint voice crackled through the radio. "—statewide search underway—authorities urge caution—"

Aurora stiffened. Her fingers curled against her thigh. Ray didn't move, didn't look at her, just reached forward and twisted the knob, cutting the voice off mid-sentence.

Aurora's breath came slow, measured. "You didn't even hear what it was about."

Ray gave a small shrug. "Didn't need to."

She studied him, trying to get a read on the man sitting beside her. He wasn't scared of her. He wasn't turning her in. If anything, he seemed resigned—like he'd picked up strays before, like he knew when to keep his mouth shut.

Finally, Ray sighed. "Town's about forty miles out. You need food, water, place to lay low?"

Aurora exhaled slowly. She didn't trust him. But she needed help. She nodded once.

Ray nodded back. "Then I know a place."

      The only sounds were the occasional rattle of the old truck and the static-heavy country song still playing low on the radio. Every so often, Ray would glance her way, his expression unreadable beneath the dim glow of the dashboard lights. Aurora focused on the road ahead. Forty miles. That wasn't far. If she could get to town, find a payphone, maybe she could—

      Her stomach twisted. Who would she even call? Mike didn't have a phone. She couldn't reach Jonathan or Will. Owens was the only one who might have helped her, but he was the reason she'd ended up back in Brenner's hands to begin with—that Eleven ended up in that place again. That left her with no options.

Aurora had promised her she'd come back. But she couldn't do it alone. She needed help. An army. She needed to find a way to get back without being caught again. The weight of it pressed against her chest, heavy and suffocating. She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply through her nose before exhaling slowly.

Aurora's eyes flickered warily as Ray's truck bounced over the uneven dirt road. The truck's headlights cut through the darkness, illuminating nothing but the desert landscape and occasional scraggly shrubs. Each mile felt heavier, the weight of what she had left behind pressing into her chest, suffocating her. The town was still far off. She could barely focus on the road, her thoughts spinning. Ray's words were starting to sink in. He'd been too calm, too careful with what he said. She hadn't asked for help, but somewhere between the endless desert and her desperation, she'd found herself agreeing to go with him.

      But now... now she was unsure.

      She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, the silence stretching out between them. The last thing she needed was to be taken back to another government facility. She'd barely escaped Brenner's place, barely gotten Eleven out of there, but the truth was: she hadn't gotten her out yet. And if she wasn't careful, she'd be right back there, locked up once more. Ray was up to something. She could feel it.

      Her gaze flickered toward the side mirror. The darkness outside felt wrong, like the world itself was holding its breath. And then it clicked—Ray had been steering the truck too smoothly. He wasn't heading for a town, for some rest, or refuge. He was heading somewhere specific. Suddenly, the truck slowed, and the headlights illuminated a chain-link fence looming ahead, a gate, and a small guard post. Aurora's heart slammed in her chest.

      "It's not Eleven," Aurora assured. Trying to reason with the man who had lied to her. "Eleven isn't who you want, it can't be her."

      Ray didn't answer immediately. He simply eased the truck forward, pulling into a large compound behind the gate. It was too quiet, too orderly, like a place meant to be kept hidden. As they crossed the threshold, the truck's tires crunched over gravel, and the sight of towering buildings behind security fences made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

      Aurora's hands gripped the door handle, her mind racing. She had to get out. She couldn't let herself get caught again. She wouldn't be put in another cage.

      Ray finally broke the silence. "They think she is," he said, his voice softer now. "And we can't believe the word of one girl or countless reports."

      Aurora turned to him, her eyes wild with disbelief. "I was with Eleven, she doesn't have her powers. She's powerless, I've seen it. There is nothing there, not anymore. It's not her."

      Ray's face hardened, his eyes narrowing as he shifted the truck into park. "Maybe you believe that, but Brenner has a way of deceiving people into what he wants. My superiors believe that Eleven is responsible."

      A sickening knot twisted in Aurora's stomach. "You work for them?" She demanded, her voice rising.

      Ray's eyes locked onto hers, and there was a moment of stillness. "I'm not your enemy, kid. Not right now. But if you want to help Eleven, this is the only way. They'll protect you here."

      Aurora shook her head, her chest tightening. "No. You're wrong. I'm not staying here. I'm not going back to any more cages." Ray sighed and leaned over, putting the truck in park. Before Aurora could make a move, he placed a firm hand on her arm.

      "Don't be stupid," he said, his voice now low and steady, carrying a note of finality. "They're not going to kill you, all they want is to find Eleven. They'll have a place for you, keep you safe, and they'll find Eleven. But you're not doing this alone. You don't have the connections, and you don't have the power."

      Aurora felt a sharp sting of frustration, her teeth clenched. She didn't care about his explanations, his reassurances. She couldn't be here. Not in this place. She felt the subtle hum of her powers flicker to life inside her. It was instinct—an instinct she no longer wanted. Her fingers twitched, ready to lash out. l

      "Then let me talk to them," Aurora clenched her teeth. "I know where Eleven is and I'll tell them everything they need to know."

Ray stared at her for a long moment, his face unreadable. Aurora didn't care. She couldn't back down now. She couldn't let herself be taken in by their lies any longer. "If you don't," she continued, her voice hardening, "I'll find another way. But I'm not staying here. Not while they're still holding her."

The words hung in the air between them, and for a fleeting moment, Aurora almost thought he might relent. But the harsh reality was setting in. She had no allies here, no one to trust. The only person she could rely on was herself. And she was damn sure she wasn't going to leave Eleven behind again.

Ray didn't move for a few seconds. Finally, he released her arm, letting her go. But his eyes never left hers. "Fine," he said quietly. "But if this goes south, don't say I didn't warn you."

Aurora didn't respond. She didn't need to. She was already out of the truck and heading toward the gates, Ray scrambling to follow her. The guards surrounding the walls yelled for her to stop, but Aurora didn't listen and when they gained on her she reached out into each of their minds and forced them into a sleep.

She heard Ray behind her, but Aurora continued. The metal door stood in front of them, locked.

"I want to speak to whoever is in charge," Aurora shouted. "I know where Eleven is and I want to help."

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( LET ME SPEAK : )

swear, my least favorite chapter i've ever
written bc what is this? it's so random and
idk, i hate it but it's meant to get us from
point A to point B. anyways, double update,
so go read the next chapter now!!!

credit goes to fivehxrgreeves