Hopper 
"He's a good student," someone tells me over people in the search party calling for the kid.

"What?"

"Will. He's a good student," he repeats. "Great one, actually. I don't think we've met." He holds out his hand for me to shake and introduces himself as Scott Clarke, the Earth and biology teacher at Hawkins Middle School.

"I always had a distaste for science," I say.

"Well, maybe you had a bad teacher," he says. {Honestly though why can't Mr. Clarke be my teacher.}

"Yeah, Ms. Ratliff was a piece of work."

"Ratliff?" He chuckles. "You bet. She's still kicking around, believe it or not."

"Oh, I believe it. Mummies never die, so they tell me. Sarah, my daughter . . . galaxies, the universe, whatnot . . . she always understood all that stuff. I always figured there was enough going on own here, I never needed to look elsewhere."

"Your daughter—what grade is she? Maybe I'll get her in my class."

"No, she, uh . . . She lives with her mom in the city." No, I think to myself, she doesn't live anywhere. "Thanks for coming out, Teach. We really appreciate it."

Mike
"Lucas, do you copy?" I ask through the walkie-talkie. (Y/N) had gone home and I am now contemplating over our unfinished D&D campaign. "It's Mike. Lucas?"

"Hey, it's Lucas," he says.

"I know it's you. And say 'over' when you're done talking so I know you're done. Over." {When you're having weird SpongeBob nostalgia.}

"I'm done. Over."

"I'm worried about Will. Over."

"Yeah. This is crazy. Over."

"I was thinking. . . . Will could've cast a Protection spell last night, but he didn't. He cast Fireball. Over."

"What's your point? Over."

"My point is . . . he could've played it safe, but he didn't. He put himself in danger to help the party. Over."

There's a long pause before Lucas says, "Meet me in ten. Over and out."

I pack my walkie-talkie and other supplies in my bag and sneak out on my bike to find Douchebag Steve climbing onto the roof of our house near Nancy's room. I should probably question him or tell Mom, but I couldn't care less about him at all.

Nancy
I shuffle through my flashcards and someone taps on my window. I look over and see Steve outside my window, asking me to come let him in. I open the window and ask, "What are you doing here? I told you on the phone I'm under house arrest now."

"I figured we'd just study here," he says.

"No. No way."

"Oh, come on. I can't have you failing this test." He climbs in through the window. "So just bear with me." He straightens out his clothes after clumsily regaining his balance. "What did I tell you? Ninja."

I scoff and shut the window.

Eleven
This "ice cream" tastes very good.

"You like that ice cream, huh?" Benny says. "Smile looks good on you." I don't understand. "You know, smile?" He makes a face that makes him look happy. I try the same to do the "smile" and continue eating the ice cream. Someone knocks on the door.

"All right, you sit tight," Benny says. "Whoever it is, I'll tell 'em to go away real quick, all right?" {I actually want to see a world where Benny takes in Eleven instead of calling Social Services, not even caring if she's someone else's child.}

I watch him as he goes to see who's at the door.

Benny
"Hey, can I help you?" I ask the blonde at the door.

"Hi, you must be Benny Hammond," she says.

"I'm afraid I am. And I'm afraid we're closed for the evening," I say. "Try back tomorrow morning."

"Connie Frazier," she says. "Social Services."

"Ah, Social Services. I didn't expect you so soon. That's a heck of a drive."

"Not too bad this time of night."

"Hey, listen. I haven't told her that you're coming yet. I didn't want her running off again. She's a tad skittish."

"Children I work with usually are."

"Right, right." Duh.

"So, where is she?"

"Right. She's in the kitchen. Come on up. I'll introduce you."

"Thank you."

I lead her inside and towards the kitchen to Eleven. "Sorry again for trying to turn you away there."

"It's fine."

"You know, it's funny. Your, uh, your voice sounds different on the—"

Eleven
The woman Benny was talking to killed him. She's bad. She must be working with Papa. I make a run for the door where I came in but two bad men holding guns stop me. So I do what I can to kill them and make my way out before Papa finds me. {Eleven logic.}

(Y/N)
"Ah. This is it," Lucas says. We stop our bikes at the gate marking where they found Will's bike.

"Hey, you feel that?" Dustin asks, probably referring to the sprinkling rain. "I think maybe we should go back."

"No!" I say.

"We're not going back," Mike says. "Just stay close. Come on."

I'm the first up and ready to follow him, ducking under the gate, as does Lucas.

"Just stay on channel six," Mike instructs. "Don't do anything stupid."

We're a few feet into the woods before Dustin shouts, "Hey, wait up!" and chases after us.

Hey, Hopper said no investigating after school. It's well after school now, and there was no talk of condemnation for that.

Nancy
"Which polymers occur naturally?" Steve reads off the card.

"Starch and cellulose," I say after a couple seconds of thinking.

He hums in agreement and flips to the next flashcard. "In a molecule of CH4, the hydrogen atoms are spatially oriented towards the centers of—"

"Tetrahedrons." Easy.

"Wow. Jesus, how many of these did you make?"

"You said you wanted to help."

"How about this? How about . . . How about every time you get something right, I have to take an item of clothing off. But every time that you get something wrong—"

"Uh, pass."

"Oh, come on. Come on."

"No."

"Come on, it'll be fun."

"No."

"During fractional distillation, hydrocarbons are separated according to their?"

"Melting point."

He checks the card. "Ooh. It's boiling points."

"That's what I meant."

He shakes his head. "That's not what you said." He pulls at the collar of his shirt, telling me to take mine off.

"No."

"No? Oh, you need . . . Do you need help, or . . ." He puts his hand on my back and we end up in a kiss. {As Africa plays in the background, obviously the sexiest song from the eighties.} He pushes me down to my pillow and starts to unbutton my shirt.

"Steve . . . Steve, come on," I mutter.

"What?"

"Are you crazy? My parents are here."

He looks around the room. "That's weird; I . . . don't see them." He kisses me again and I push him off me, sitting up.

"Was this your plan all along?" I ask. "To . . . get in my room and then . . . get another notch on your belt?"

"No. Nancy, no," he says.

"I'm not Laurie or Amy or Becky."

"You mean, you're not a slut."

"That's not what I'm saying."

"You know, you're so cute when you lie."

I can barely help but smile. "Shut up."

He grabs my teddy bear, holding it to his chest, and sticks out his bottom lip. "Bad Steve. Bad. Don't do that to Miss Nancy."

He is honestly pretty cute. "You're an idiot, Steve Harrington."

"You are beautiful, Nancy Wheeler." He sighs and sits up, picking the flashcards up again.

Jonathan
"Jonathan, wow. You took these?" Mom asks, shuffling through my photographs. "These are great. Wow, they really are."

"I know I haven't been there for you," she stammers. "I've been working so hard and . . . I just feel bad. I don't even . . . barely know what's going on with you. All right? I'm sorry about that."

I can't help the tears that start slipping from my eyes.

"What is it?" Mom asks. "What is it, honey?"

"Nothing," I snivel.

"Tell me," she says. I shake my head. "Come on, you can."

"No. It's just . . . I should've been there for him."

"No. Oh, no, honey, you can't do that to yourself." She starts crying along with me. "This was not your fault. Do you hear me? He is close. I know it. I feel it in my heart. You just have to . . . You have to trust me on this, okay?" She rubs my shoulder reassuringly.

She grabs one of the photographs. "Look at this one." It's a picture of Will I had taken some time ago. "Look at this one." She laughs through her tears. "I mean, that's it, right?"

"Yeah," I say, laying my head on her shoulder.

"That's it. That's the one." She sighs and the phone rings. She jumps up anxiously to answer.

"Hello?" she asks into the phone. "Hello? Lonnie? Hopper? Who is this?"

I get up and walk over to her.

"Will? Will?"

"It's Will?" I ask.

"Who is this! What have you done to my boy? Give me back my son!" Electricity surges through the phone and she screams and drops it.

I grab the phone. "Hello? Hello, who is this? Hello? Who is this?" I put the phone on the holder. "Mom, who was it?" She talks gibberish through her sobs. "Who was it, Mom?"

"It was him," she says.

"Look at me, Mom. Was it Will?"

"Yes!"

"What did he say?"

"He just breathed. He just breathed." She holds the phone to her ear again.

"And was someone else there? Mom, who was there? Who was it?"

"It was him. I know it was his breathing. I know it was his breathing," she sobs into my chest.

Mike
"Will!" I call out into the black night. "Will!"

"Byers!" Lucas shouts.

"I really think we should turn back," Dustin says.

"Seriously, Dustin?" Lucas asks. "You wanna be a baby, then go home already."

"I'm just being realistic, Lucas!" Dustin says.

"No, you're just being a big sissy!"

"Did you ever think Will went missing because he ran into something bad? And we're going to the exact same spot where he was last seen? And we have no weapons or anything?"

"So what? Will sacrificed his life for ours, so we should be willing to do the same," (Y/N) says pointing her flashlight accusingly at Dustin.

"That was just a game! This is real life where our real lives are in danger!" he says.

"Dustin, shut up," I say.

"I'm just saying, does that seem smart to you?" he asks.

"Shut up, shut up!" I hear rustling come from the trees and stop them from moving. "Do you hear that?"

The noise gets louder and we shine our flashlights in the direction it's coming from. There, standing soaked in the rain, is a girl about our age, wearing an oversized yellow T-shirt, her hair in a buzzcut.

What the hell is going on?