— CHAPTER 15 —
WHAT FRIENDS ARE FOR

SATURDAY 12th NOVEMBER,
1983

CATH'S cheeks prickle with the iciness of the November air, grazing her cheeks as she slices through the stillness on her bike. Her brain has wired itself into knowing the exact route to Mike's house now — unless she is imagining it? The adrenaline is buzzing too wildly for her to spare a moment to consider it.

There is no time. She just spoke to Will. She just spoke to Will, and he could be in more imminent danger than ever.

     Going up one particular hill proves a challenge, her legs screaming and burning with lactic acid by the time she reaches the top. Despite the somewhat cool day, beads of sweat form on her forehead.

She is going so fast that Cath almost doesn't realise Mike and Dustin approaching her in the opposite direction. Going about twice the speed as them, she zooms straight past and only catches a snippet of their voices before they vanish out of earshot. Cath slams her brakes and shudders to a halt, gasping for air as she finally takes her first break since she set off from home.

     When the boys meander over in front of her on their bikes, she is still doubled over and panting over her handle bars. The faces she sees when she finally raises her chin are ones of utter surprise.

     "What are you doing here?" Mike asks, almost carefully.

     "Looking for you," she pants. "I was on my way to your house."

     "... Why?"

     Why? For a split second, Cath cannot understand why neither of them are picking up on her urgency. Then it all comes back to her. Yesterday... what she had said to them. But that was yesterday. All of it.

"You guys are still looking for Will, right? I'm coming with you."

"But you said that our plan wouldn't work?" Dustin remarks, his voice laced with hesitant hope.

"Along with a lot of other things..." Mike murmurs.

Cath takes a deep breath. "I know what I said. And I'm not going to say that I didn't mean it either, because I did back then. And I still stand by most of it; that we shouldn't be the ones figuring out where Will's gone. We are just kids. And I don't think anything else in my life from now on could get much crazier than this. But... I think the only thing worse than putting ourselves in danger to find Will, would be the regret if we didn't at least try. He has to still be out there. I want to see this through."

The boys share a sidewards glance at each other, and in the silence that follows she drums her foot nervously on the road. Then both the boys break out into grins, Dustin's being double as wide as Mike's.

"Alright," Mike shrugs. "You don't have to ask, though. We would gladly take you back."

     Cath has to bite back a grin to hide the sudden injection of joy she feels at the word 'gladly'.

     "Anyway, right now we're trying to find El again. And we're still on the lookout for Will. We know what happened yesterday, but he still has to be out there."

"I know. I heard him."

"... You what?!"

She suddenly finds herself wracked with nerves, the stakes hitting her again as the boys' eyes grow wide. "I... I think I heard him. He talked to me on the radio."

"Jesus, Cath!" Dustin almost trips over his bike, despite standing still. "Why didn't you just say in the first place?"

"I was going to—"

"He could still be there!" Mike exclaims.

     The trio pedal back home, Cath leading the way — and feeling a little less alone at the ticking and whirring of bike wheels either side of her. Minutes later they are back in her bedroom, staring at her empty wall where there is practically no sign of the emerging creature from earlier. Her fingers trace the space where she remembers the monstrous bulges fighting the wallpaper. It feels cold and untouched, but crumples subtly underneath her fingertips as though it has been worn.

"I don't understand... something was right here, I swear."

"It's okay," says Mike. "We believe you."

She smiles weakly at him, grateful for the encouragement although it won't help them find Will. Over his shoulder, she spots Dustin puckering his lips and making noises to attract Ringo, who stares sceptically from a corner of her room.

"Do you remember what he said to you?"

"It was hard to tell. The connection was really weak." As she remembers the desperation in his fatigued voice, her gaze drops to the floor. "... He kept telling me he didn't have long left. That he had to run."

Something flashes over Mike's face for a moment, a brief moment of dread that pales his face. Then he seems to shake it off. "Well, that could mean he's still okay. Right?" he asks, almost in affirmation. "If he spoke to you, he's still alive, and that's all that matters." Cath can't help but feel like Mike's optimism is a little too forced, but she agrees with him for now. She still wonders how he never tires of that courage, that ceaseless determination to keep going...

     Dustin's lips squeak together a little too loud, causing Mike to whirl around at him with an annoyed look. "Dustin!" he huffs.

"What?" Dustin defends himself defiantly, smoothing a hand over Ringo's coat. "She has a cat, so I'm gonna pet the cat. Geez..."

"Have you guys talked to Lucas yet?" Cath asks Mike as he turns back to her.

"Yeah, this morning. He didn't take it all that well... I think he's gone off to try and find the Gate by himself."

"Well, we can't do that," she says. "Lucas has been there the whole time, we can't just go off without him now."

"I know, but we might have to... for now. He seemed pretty mad."

Cath sighs. More than anything, after the week they have had, she worries for Lucas. She had often found herself seeing eye-to-eye with him, even if he was a little too stern in the way he went about things. But they all needed him — just as they all needed each other. Lucas, Mike, Dustin, and...

"What about Eleven?" she asks quietly. She fears she already knows his answer, since he had mentioned it briefly before.

Mike's eyes droop sadly, rubbing his sole over a patch of carpet. "She... never came back."

Not feeling she has to pry anymore, Cath nods and tries to push down the concern that rises in her. She may have 'superhero' powers, but El also has to be the most vulnerable of them all — she doesn't like to think of the people she could bump into. Or if the ominous Bad Men found her again...

"We did see something after we talked to Lucas," Dustin pipes up, now having a blank-eyed Ringo coddled under one arm. "Just before we met you, we went past the big grocery store and the front doors were totally smashed in. Glass everywhere. I don't know, it kind of looked like... something she could do."

"You mean Bradley's Big Buy?" she asks. She knows one of Daphne's friends, Amy Nakamura works there. For a moment, Cath has a fun time trying to imagine Amy having an encounter with Eleven in all her peculiarity, but it is soon overshadowed by her worry over her new friend's whereabouts.

"I'm sure she will turn up," Cath tries to reassure Mike, catching his gaze. "El will find her way back to you. She always does, somehow."

━━━━━━

WHEN Daphne had imagined fun shopping trips with her friends (if she could ever enjoy such a mundane thing), it had been trips to a Waldenbooks or looking for films to rent for a movie night... not buying bear traps and firearms in downtown Hawkins with Nancy and Jonathan, and watching the cashier's face contort in suspicion.

"And I'll have, uh, four boxes of the 38s..." Jonathan timidly nods to the wall behind the cashier.

     "What are you kids doin' with all of this?" he asks with a raise of his eyebrow, setting down the box of 38s on the counter.

     The three of them exchange a glance, Daphne too distracted by the firearms hanging on the walls to form any words. "Monster hunting," Nancy finally deadpans.

     The cashier scoffs, shaking his head slowly as he taps the total into the cash register. Meanwhile, Daphne finds herself having a staring contest with the stuffed wolf's head strung up on the wall — its teeth gnarled, eyes narrowed and pierced in an eerily lifelike way. The stag's head above it has the similar effect on her, as do the various stuffed birds around the store. Suddenly she can smell the musty stench of her great uncle George's house, and the upstairs room where he had shoved all the taxidermic animals his wife used to collect when she was alive. Foxes, owls, stoats... when she was little, Daphne had used to watch them intently and talk to them, wondering why they didn't move.

Daphne is the first to bolt out the door the minute Jonathan gets their receipt. "I am glad to be out of there," she announces, inhaling a lungful of fresh air. "Those stuffed animals were starting to freak me out..."

"Yeah, I think that wolf almost won that staring contest you had," says Jonathan, circling round to the back of his car and opening the trunk. "And Nancy... 'monster hunting'?"

"What? It's kind of true," Nancy shrugs.

Nancy is right, as much as it bewilders Daphne to admit. They are finally going to take down this wretched thing. For Tonya, she thinks. Then her stomach twists. For a split second, she feels as though she might double over with the sudden wave of anguish that rocks her, to serve as a reminder: Tonya McCarthy is dead. But not in vain. Not yet.

It isn't the only thing eating away at her. Daphne keeps replaying the way she'd snapped at Cath, and how she had instantly regretted every single word she had spouted. She wasn't thinking. She has been so distressed after everything with Tonya, her sister's feelings had been the last thing she was considering. But maybe she was right. Daphne has been avoiding her for a while, maybe not consciously — there is nothing about Cath that is in the slightest bit repellent — but either way, she has seen the damage it has done. The least she owes her sister is an explanation... if she makes it out alive now, that is.

     "You know, last week..." Nancy chuckles as she loads an oil canister into the trunk. "I was shopping for a new top I thought Steve might like. It took me and Barb all weekend. It seemed like life or death, you know? And... and now—"

     "You're shopping for bear traps with Jonathan Byers and Daphne Delaney," he finishes.

     "Yeah."

     "What's the weirdest part? Us or the bear trap?"

     "You," Nancy smiles, looking only at Jonathan. "She's fine, but especially you."

     Daphne raises an eyebrow at them, tilting her head at Jonathan with a half-smirk as Nancy reaches to close the trunk. They truly are clueless. He falters for a second, shooting her a look as if to say "What?" She opens her mouth to shoot back a response, something witty about being forever the third wheel with those two, but falls short as a honking horn behind her makes her jump. The trio watch as the man in the car rolls his window down, a smug look on his face.

     "Hey, Nancy," he croons, "Can't wait to see your movie!" Then with an obnoxious laugh he slams on the accelerator, speeding off around the corner.

     "What the hell was that?" Jonathan asks.

     "I don't know..."

     Daphne follows the street down to the route he took, and soon stops in her tracks. He came from the direction of the Hawk Movie Theatre, and now she thinks he sees what he meant. "Nancy..." she tries to say calmly, transfixed in indignation on the red letters in the distance. She doesn't know whether to protect her from it or be the one to break it to her gently. Finally, Daphne says, "I think you might need to see this."

"See what— oh..." Nancy's breath catches, and instantly her demeanour tenses. Before either of them can top her, she is crossing over the road, briskly rushing over to the Hawk Theatre. Daphne follows her, Jonathan in tow, and now that all of them are underneath the marquee, the text is clearer than ever. In the black text she remembers one of her father's colleagues putting up only very recently:

"ALL THE RIGHT MOVES"

And then underneath, in scrawled, bright crimson graffiti:

"STARRING NANCY 'THE SLUT' WHEELER"

Daphne can smell the sharp stench of fresh spray-paint from down here; it still dribbles down from the lettering in small droplets, like bad blood for all of downtown Hawkins to see. She feels her features flush with rage, fists curling at her sides. She is furious. Furious that someone would vandalise her beloved movie theatre like this, furious that someone would stoop so low, and furious that it had to happen to Nancy Wheeler of all people.

Shifting her gears into protectiveness, she takes a step close to Nancy's side — in solidarity. People are already staring, mumbling things to each other about the Wheeler girl. There are some giggles, some dirty looks. In a small town like Hawkins word spreads faster than a stray spark in dry grass. But if she can help it, she will not stand by and watch a young girl be slut-shamed in front of all her neighbours.

She doesn't want to jump to conclusions, but Daphne has a feeling she knows exactly who did this. Her suspicions are only confirmed when a chorus of laughs echo from a back alley — unmistakably Tommy H. and Carol, or as Daphne likes to call them, the match made in hell. She would like to say she isn't surprised, although it still stings to see the betrayal that is apparent on Nancy's face.

But then something hardens in her, her features set in stone. Nancy clenches her jaw and starts down to the direction of the alley. Jonathan follows her, and Daphne is mid-step into going after both of them when she notices her father in her periphery. He stands in the doorway to the theatre, arms folded across his chest and his lips thinned out as he stares sternly at her.

Oh, you're in deep shit... she had totally forgotten about him working today. If she had remembered, maybe she wouldn't have gone so near the movie theatre.

"Can I have a word with you?" he asks calmly, but every syllable suggests he is silently fuming.

Daphne looks desperately at Nancy and Jonathan, who have now disappeared down the alley. She hears a small smack followed by surprise outcries. "Dad, I can explain, but I have to—"

"Now, Daphne." He says it firmer this time and she gives in. Her father is a man who steers clear of conflict when he can, so seeing him angered always feels like a huge violation. It rarely happens, and usually she would instantly apologise, his calm and steady anger more persuasive than anything. But Will and Barbara's lives are at stake — she is going to have to fight back at least a bit.

Daphne rolls her eyes behind his back as she follows him into the movie theatre, down the hall and into one of the spare rooms for staff. The only person in there is a young sophomore girl, bobbing her head of blonde permed hair as she listens to her Walkman on her lunch break. Upon seeing the door open she instantly shoots up out of her seat, awkwardly brushing crumbs off her lap.

"It's Robin, isn't it?" Thomas says. "Would you mind giving us a moment alone? Just for a minute?"

"Um... yeah— yeah, sure." She fumbles for her Walkman and averts her eyes to the floor, not daring make eye contact with either of them on her way out. Daphne recognises the gauche fifteen year-old now, from when she applied for a job here recently — she's pretty sure this is supposed to be her first day...

But that's the least of her concern as Thomas shuts the door behind them and sighs sharply.

"What part of 'stay at home' don't you get?"

"Dad, you don't understand—"

"That's exactly it, I don't understand! Have you not been paying attention to what's been going on this last week? People — kids, in fact — going missing left, right and centre. I'm just trying to protect you both, but I can't do that when every time I turn by back you run off. What are you even trying to do? Play detective or something?"

"The police are so slow," Daphne blurts out. "We couldn't just sit around and do nothing. Something had to be done."

"It's not your job to find missing kids," Thomas fires back, before running a hand over his face. "Last night, I had been worried sick about the both of you, but especially you. I thought maybe... maybe you'd been kidnapped or you drowned in the quarry like Will. But, hey, good thing you came home just in time before I started making phone calls — then the police would have definitely been slowed down, wouldn't they?"

The sarcasm in his last sentence detonates her agitation over it all from zero to one hundred. "But I was fine!" she cries, her face flushing red hot.

"And think of the example you're setting for your sister..."

"Why do I have to set an example for Cath when she's the most well-behaved kid in Hawkins?"

"Because you're seventeen years-old, Daphne!" Thomas snaps. "You're nearly an adult. It's about damn time you started acting like one."

Daphne's mouth opens and shuts, grappling for words in the tense silence that stretches between them, but she can't find them. She could kick something right now. Although she can't lie, his words burn. Daphne has been living all of her adolescent years trying to get out of Hawkins, trying to prove herself a worthy escapee of this town, trying to be as responsible as she can. And he knows it. She knows he does.

Flashes of red and blue sear through the window, police sirens wailing as the sound of a car swerving grabs their attention.

"The cops..."

"I know who they are," Thomas shoots back.

Daphne seethes quietly. "I meant, why are they stopping out here?"

After peering out of the slits in the blinds, he opens the door and points at her. "Stay here," he instructs. So Daphne follows him outside, curiosity (and defiant angst) getting the better of her as they both run out of the movie theatre. The scene is carnage — Steve and his friends tearing down the alley in all their cowardice, Jonathan pinned down on a cop car and being cuffed, Nancy watching it all unfold in distress... what had Daphne missed?

Thomas looks up at the marquee, and then tuts as he looks back down the alley. "Harrington..." he says coldly. "I should've known."

Daphne knows this much to be true; her dad and Steve Harrington's dad clearly have some kind of unspoken bad blood with one another. She's seen the looks they have given each other when passing in the streets, or when the Harringtons came to watch a movie (although rarely together as a trio). To this day, she is still curious to ask him what happened...

     However today is not the day. Thomas disappears into the movie theatre, and for a moment she dares to consider running off after the cop car to implore Nancy what happened. But then he emerges from the darkness of the lobby with a sponge and bucket of soapy water.

     "What's all this?" she asks.

     "Your job for now," Thomas deadpans, handing her the bucket and sponge.

     Daphne retorts, realisation seeping in. "You can't be serious..."

     "Oh, I'm dead serious."

     "I didn't even DO it!!" she yells after him angrily, water sloshing onto her shoes.

     "That doesn't matter. Someone needs to clean it off, and you aren't going anywhere. So if you can't work today... then you can scrub. I want all of this off by the rush hour this evening, alright?"

     "This is so unfair!" Daphne whines, but Thomas has already walked back in.

     Muttering a string of curses under her breath, Daphne stares coldly at the stepladder that has been propped up by Harold, one of her dad's colleagues. He simply shrugs, clearly feeling awkward over witnessing their conflict. I'm doing this for Nancy, NOT him, she tells herself icily as she stomps up the ladder. Daphne submerges the sponge in the water, waits, and then starts scrubbing at the 'N' for 'NANCY'. To her dismay, the red doesn't come off immediately. It is only with a few thorough scrubs that the spray-paint starts to fade in one corner, and her wrists are already aching and dripping with soap suds.

     "Piece of shit," she whispers, hoping Steve's friends can telepathically hear her.

━━━━━━

CATH, Mike and Dustin have been walking along the same train tracks for almost an hour — this time, their compasses unfazed without Eleven altering their true North. They call her name repeatedly, hoping by some miracle she will hear them. If they find El again, she swears to herself that she will make it up to her more than ever. Sometimes she had been hesitant to pursue their friendship, because of how different Eleven was. But Cath isn't scared anymore.

A rummaging in the bushes catches their attention. At first Cath wonders whether it might be some sort of an animal. Or perhaps... Eleven? The three of them follow the sound, hands tightly gripping the handlebars of their bikes. Then an unwelcome voice:

     "Hey there, Frogface... Toothless... and Crybaby too, huh? The whole gang's here."

"Shit," Dustin's eyes grow wide. "Guys, we have to run!"

"What?"

The two figures of Troy and James stomping through the forest thick with trees materialise before them, but before anything else Cath sees it and her eyes grow wide — the glint of a pocket knife in Troy's hand. "You're dead, Wheeler..." he threatens. She can see real vengeance in his eyes, too.

The trio do the only thing they can do — run like the wind. The two boys drop their bikes and start sprinting off the tracks into the trees, while Cath stalls for a moment, unsure whether to take it with her as a 'getaway car'.

"Leave it!" Mike yells at her, "Just RUN!"

So she does, hearing the clatter of her bike falling behind her and hoping it somehow diverted Troy and James. But when she steals a glance behind her, heart thundering wildly and lactic acid screaming in her calves, they are still pursuing them steadily. Cath need to clear distance between them somehow. There is no way she can outrun two athletic young boys like that. She will somehow have to outsmart them.

Noticing a slight dip in the ground ahead of her, partly shrouded by leaves, Cath makes for it and prays for a soft landing as she leaps subtly over it. Her feet plant themselves into the earth, skidding before she tears into another full-on run again — her Mary Janes are scuffed with mud... once again, she wore the wrong shoes. But to her relief, she hears Troy curse as he runs headfirst into the mini-trap. It isn't enough to throw them off course entirely, but enough for her to buy some short time to catch up with Dustin and Mike.

A million questions invade her head, the most prominent being: Why does Troy have a knife? Does he intend to use it? The thought of Troy deliberately seeking them out with a blade makes her run a little bit faster. This is insane, this is insane, this is insane...

     Soon they are out from the protection of the trees, out in the open at the top of the quarry where they had only been days before. Cath and the boys skid to a halt as James appears in front of them, the pebbles sliding from her feet and rolling to the cliff's edge. When they turn to run away, Troy is there to greet them with the knife. Instinctively, the kids reach for any defence they can find — Dustin opts for a large stick, where Mike and Cath grab a small rock each.

     "Stay back! Don't come any closer!" Mike shouts. With a loud grunt, he lobs a rock in James's direction, but it goes careening almost a metre too far to the side.

     "Nice throw, numbnut," James scoffs.

     Dustin lets out a cry from behind them, and Cath turns to see Troy with him locked between his arms, the blade held far too close to Dustin's throat. She claps a hand to her mouth in horror, but before she can step forward and intervene, she feels another hand clamp around her wrist. Yelping, she struggles against James's grip and manages to look behind her at him in disgust.

     "What are you doing?! Get off of me!" she declares, trying to make sure her voice doesn't wobble. Cath attempts to break free, but James's grip grows tighter.

     "Let them go! Let them go!" Mike pleads, helplessly stuck in the middle.

     "Stay back, or I cut him!" Troy warns, making Dustin whimper.

     "What do you want?"

     "I want to know how you did it!"

     "How I did what?"

     "I know you did something to me," Troy sneers. "Some nerdy science shit to make me do that."

     "You mean piss your pants?" Dustin clarifies, struggling in his brace. "Our friend has superpowers, and she squeezed your tiny bladder with her mind."

     "Shut up!" He moves the blade dangerously close to Dustin's mouth, waving it like a wand. "I think I should save Toothless here another trip to the dentist... help him lose the rest of his baby teeth."

     "You wouldn't!" Cath cries in despair.

     "Just watch me."

     An instantaneous, overwhelming bolt of anger jolts through her, like nothing she has ever felt before. She seethes, writhing even more vigorously in James's grip, and finally he seems to struggle to resist it. "What's wrong with you?!" Cath yells at them. "Why do you have to do this?"

     Troy cocks an eyebrow at her, smirking slightly. "So Crybaby wore her big girl pants today, huh? What are you gonna do? Cry about it?"

     "I'll tell on you," Cath threatens, hating the way her voice cracks halfway through. "I'll tell whoever I have to what you really are. And then your mom will find out, and then we'll see just how proud you feel then."

     "No one likes a telltale, Delaney."

     "You'll like telltales even less after I tell your mom everything..." she trails off then, the fear returning after her brief flash of bravery which startled even herself. Had she kept going, and maybe if she were a little bit braver, she was on the cusp of calling him pant-pisser.

     "Please, just let them go, let them go!" Mike shouts again.

     "We'll let them go, sure... but first it's your turn."

     "My turn for what?"

     "Wet yourself."

     "What?"

     "Jump."

     It takes a few moments for her to realise what Troy is alluding to, but once she sees Mike's gaze drift off the cliff's edge, her heart drops like a lead balloon. He must be joking. He has to be. He cannot be serious.

     "... Or Toothless gets an early trip to the dentist's."

Even James freezes behind her, his grip finally loosening on her. Cath steals a glance behind her and sees the colour vanish from his face, the usual disgusting smirk wiped clean. She looks back at Mike, who is standing eerily still and watching Dustin struggle.

"Stop! No!" Dustin exclaims.

"I'll cut him right now!"

"Alright, just hold on... hold on!" Mike pleads, his gaze distant. For a split second, he catches Cath's worried eyes, and darts between that and the staggering drop from the cliff's edge.

"You aren't seriously considering this, are you?" she asks uncertainly. When Mike looks out to the cliff again, Cath walks forwards from James. Panic frays her train of thought as the worst nightmare morphs into reality. "Mike, are you insane?! Don't you remember anything from Mr. Clarke's lessons? If you hit the water from this height, it'll be like hitting concrete..."

You won't make it, she wants to add. You'll die.

"Troy, I don't think this is a good idea, man..." James admits, sounding fearful.

Cath attempts to stride forward and offer her hand to Mike, but the sudden awareness of their height above ground throws her. The ground feels too unstable nearer the tip, which he is edging dangerously near to. Queasiness overtakes her and the edges of her vision start to spin slightly. She doesn't know if she dares go closer... does that make her a coward? Or just not an idiot?

"Mike, please," she begs, stretching her hand out further despite his back being to her. "Don't listen to them. They're bullies, horrible bullies —" A rock flies off the edge as his foot shifts, startling Cath into jumping further back from the tip. "Mike, listen to me!" she chokes out.

"Don't do it, Mike!" Dustin shouts.

"Dentist's office opens in five... four..."

"Mike, this is INSANE!"

"Three... two..."

"Mike!"

"One..."

With one small step outwards and a light gasp, Mike disappears off the edge. Cath feels what might as well be a punch in the gut, and she staggers in her spot, eyes wide. She feels like she could throw up.

"MIKE!!!"

His name dying on her lips reverbs off the quarry walls, before an unforgiving whistle of wind sweeps in. Troy's hand goes slack, the blade lowered from Dustin's throat — he hadn't been expecting him to go through with it. All four of them rush to the cliff's edge, Cath most reluctantly. She doesn't want to see it. Not another friend dead in one week. She had already seen Will, so she thought, once. At first she edges heartbroken with the others to see, expecting Mike's body limp in the water...

Then her torment is suspended momentarily, replaced by bewilderment.

Is he...? Yes, he is.

Mike Wheeler is alive. And he is levitating.

The boy seems just as puzzled as they are, flailing arms and legs everywhere as he's left to stare at the chilly waters below. Some invisible force begins to pull himself, like a fishing rod reeling in its catch, and he is quite literally flying. Cath, Dustin, Troy and James all watch dumbfounded as Mike floats weightlessly over their heads, being lifted to safety before he lands with a hard thud into the dirt on his back.

     Cath's first instinct is to rush over to him. Relief flooding her, but still fighting against the existing devastation that had just been there. She drops to her knees at his side, eyes frantically searching his body for any harm done. "Mike! Are you okay? A-Are you hurt?" she stammers.

     "Yeah... I'm fine," he groans, rubbing his head as he tries to get up. Cath offers her hand and he takes it, using it as leverage to help him sit up. It is the first time he notices the way her expression has soured. "What? What is it?" Mike asks.

     "You... idiot," she scolds him. "Why did you do that? That was so stupid, I thought you'd— y-you'd..." Cath feels her lower lip trembling, both from adrenaline and her emotions splayed all over the place. Now that he is okay, her mind starts to pry for other questions: How the heck did he do that? That's when she notices Mike's eyes popping open wide, his jaw dropping.

Cath follows his stare behind her, finding Eleven at the end of it.

Her face is grimy with dirt and her wig has been discarded, but she trudges forward through muddy puddles with more confidence than ever. She stares down the two bullies, and before she has even stopped, Eleven has sent James onto his back with a simple look. A sharp tilt of her head, and a sickening crunch sounds out — Troy shrieks and his knife clatters to the ground, cradling his shattered arm.

"Aaahh!" he cries. "She broke my arm... she broke my arm..."

"Go," Eleven commands them.

The bullies waste no time, scrambling to their feet and tearing off in the opposite direction — seeing how they feel running from danger. "Yeah, that's right, you'd better run!" Dustin hollers after them, grinning. "She's our friend and she's CRAZY! You come back here and she'll kill you, you hear me? She'll KILL you, you sons of bitches!"

It hits Cath right then, looking back to see Eleven standing there, alive and well. She could hug her right now. She had started to worry over her disappearance, whether they had driven her into the wrong hands... but seeing her here now was all worth it. Although, looking at her now, El begins to sway queasily on the spot, before sinking to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

The three of them rush to her side, Mike leaning over her — despite the whole ordeal he had just been through, he somehow manages to soften just for her. "El, are you okay?" he asks. "El?"

To Cath's surprise, El chokes back a sob, chest fluttering. "Mike... I'm sorry."

"Sorry? What are you sorry for?"

"The Gate... I opened it. I'm the monster."

"Oh, El..." Cath whispers, her heart breaking to see her like this.

"No. No El, you're not the monster," Mike assures her with a friendly smile. "You saved me. Do you understand? You saved me."

Still unconvinced, Eleven stares up at the sky, blinking back tears. Mike reaches for her hands and pulls her up into a gentle embrace — her resting her head on his shoulder, his hand rubbing her back. It is Dustin next who crouches down on Mike's side, wrapping an arm around each of them. Cath hesitates initially, almost unsure of whether she is welcome, but succumbs in the heat of the moment. She crouches down on the other side of Mike and Eleven, her own arms cradling them like a mother hen.

A warmth spreads through them, a welcoming one. Cath thinks how it is like walking through your front door, and feeling like you have arrived home.

     Her friends... her friends.

The group of them, now bound together, make their way back to Mike's house through the woods. After finding their capsized bikes again, they weave through the Hawkins roads in a tight-knit cluster until they reach the Wheeler household. Outside the house on the other side of the road is a parked white van, 'HAWKINS POWER AND LIGHT' printed on the side. The man inside waves to them; slightly confused, the kids wave back sheepishly, soon disappearing inside the house.

     She doesn't think it important then, but Cath does wonder why a repair man needs a walkie-talkie like that as the door closes...

━━━━━━

A/N;

i feel like the ending was a tiny but rushed, but overall i loved writing this chapter, mainly because of ✨the power of friendship✨

i wanted to get this out on the day of the netflix tudum event, because i will most definitely be tuning in for the stranger things news, whatever it may be. i'm manifesting a longer trailer or release date or something, but we will find out soon... guess i'll see you guys on the other side of that! thank you as always for reading, it means a whole bunch.

(p.s: the robin cameo! a very small detail, not significant to the plot, but i thought it was fun. in the spotify rebel robin podcast it mentioned she had a brief job at the hawk theatre, and i think her first day was supposed to be with the whole 'slut wheeler' incident? anyway, that was very fun).

— Imogen

[ Published: September 25th, 2021 ]