CHAPTER FOUR.
1x04: The Body

Samantha Hughes was eight years old when she first met William Byers.

It was Hawkins Elementary's first day back from winter break, and none of the first graders were having it. Especially Mrs. Hoover's homeroom.

No, actually. It wasn't Mrs. Hoover's homeroom anymore. Sam's mom had mentioned something about Mrs. Hoover having a baby, so she wouldn't be returning for a good amount of time.

Sam didn't really get it, but she really did hope the stork delivered Mrs. Hoover's baby soon. She didn't know how much longer she could stand Ms. Godfrey as their substitute.

"Alright, y'all. Ev'ryone stand up. Imma give y'all a new seatin' chart for the new semest'r," the pale and wrinkly old lady announced. Sam didn't think Ms. Godfrey was aware that first graders had no clue what a seating chart or a semester was, but maybe that was the horrible accent Sam couldn't understand.

"I'm not havin' no Mrs. Hoover incidents again, ya hear? Y'all gettin' split up by boys and girls, 'cause y'all too young for all that."

Sam always tried to be a nice person, as her parents taught her to be, but it had already been about five seconds with the woman and Sam was going to combust.

Whatever that word meant.

Ms. Godfrey pointed to one side of the classroom, and upon checking the L's on her hands, Sam realized it was the right. She glanced down at her attendance sheet. "Alright, fellas over there. Anthony Walsh, Matthew Jones, Taylor Brown, Justin Zimmerman..."

She continued listing off all the boys in Sam's classroom, but Sam tuned it out as the information didn't pertain to her.

Unless Ms. Godfrey knew something Sam didn't, because it wasn't long before Sam swore she heard, "Will Byers, Mike Wheeler... oh, and Sam Hughes."

Sam's eyes shot up to the teacher, concerned and very, very confused. It was only when everyone started laughing that Sam realized Ms. Godfrey didn't even think she was a girl. She had seen Sam's name on the attendance list and thought Sam was a literal boy.

"What's so funny, huh?" Ms. Godfrey snapped, completely missing how Sam was trying to hide away from all human life. "Quitch yur laughing and start movin' 'round!"

Sam, the people pleaser she was, had no bravery to tell her substitute that she was quite a female. So she started moving around like the good little boy she apparently was and sat in the closest seat to the back corner she could find. Everyone was still turning around and laughing at Sam, causing her to slouch down even further in her seat.

God, Sam missed Christmas break.

Stephanie probably didn't have any problems like this in middle school. Why couldn't Sam be in middle school? This was totally unfair. Stephanie had friends. Stephanie didn't get made fun of. Stephanie didn't have a boys' nickname. What did Sam do so wrong?

"I said shut the hell up!" Ms. Godfrey yelled. This time, everyone listened. Most students whipped around to the front of the classroom in fear.

Turned out, class was more dreadful than attendance. Who else was surprised?

Not Sam.

As they were let out for recess, Sam was very last to exit the classroom. She didn't want anyone walking behind her. There was something about knowing people could stare at her that gave Sam immense anxiety (especially when Godfrey had just made her a target for teasing).

All of Sam's classmates eagerly ran outside. That was, except for two boys who for some reason had decided to wait for Sam to get up.

"Hi!"

He was a very small and very friendly boy, stood in front of a taller black-haired boy who wore an unamused expression. Sam flinched at the volume of his voice, blinking rapidly to understand what was going on.

"...Hi?"

"Y'all heard what I said?" Ms. Godfrey was still at her desk, glaring at the three of them. "Git outta here!"

Sam let out a long and loud passive aggressive sigh, trying to hide a glare as she walked out of the classroom. Even as she left, the two boys still followed her trail (well, the smaller one dragged the miserable one, but).

"I'm Will!" he continued, now at Sam's side. "Well, William, but you can call me Will."

She had to do a double take, still confused as to why he would be so excited to speak with her. Why wasn't he just making fun of her like everyone else?

"I'm... Sam," she replied, stopping in the hall to prolong going outside. She shrugged self-consciously. "I guess you probably knew that though. It's supposed to be short for Samantha."

Will nodded. "Yeah. Sorry Mrs. Godfrey's so weird. I would say worse words, but my mom doesn't allow that!"

"My mom doesn't either, but my sister still says them anyway. My dad says she's a bad influence on me, but I think she's funny," Sam confessed. She had no clue why she was saying all this to a boy she'd just met, but he seemed nice enough.

Sam could use some of that.

"You have a sister?" Will gasped. "That's so cool! I have an older brother! His name is Jonathan."

Sam smiled. "My sister's name is Stephanie. She's a little weird, but I like her." At the mention of weird, she was suddenly reminded of the third person in their group who had yet to say a word. "What's your name?"

It was quiet for a few moments as the boy stared back at Sam. Will's smile turned tight-lipped at his friend's rudeness. He nodded the boy's way. "That's Mike. Short for Michael."

Mike still did not respond.

"He's not much of a talker," Will said, laughing awkwardly. "Well, actually he is, but I think he doesn't like new people. Guess you two just need to get closer to each other!"

Sam doubted that would ever happen, going off of this boy's behavior, but she was still raised to be polite. "Hi!"

"Hi."

Sam furrowed her eyebrows and wrinkled her nose. She still tried to make some sort of conversation with him so as to not be rude: "Do you... have any siblings, or...?"

"Yeah."

Will sighed.

He hit Mike in the shoulder. "Mike has a sister. Her name is Nancy, and she's really cool! You should come over and meet her some time!"

Mike scoffed. "Um, no. She shouldn't."

"Mike," Will hissed, as if Sam couldn't hear. She almost wished she couldn't.

"It's ok," Sam managed. "You can just come over to mine. I doubt Stephanie would want to hang with us, but we don't need her!"

Will gasped a second time, as if Sam presented him with a new car. "Really?"

"Yeah, sure! I'll ask my mom if you could come over this weekend! You too, Mike," Sam said, beaming. She'd never clicked with someone before. "I don't know if I have boy toys, but we can still play."

"We'd love to!" Will exclaimed happily.

Sam lit up, matching Will's energy. "Awesome!"

"Yeah, yeah," Mike drawled. "Can we go outside now?"

Yeah, Sam didn't really think Mike was enthusiastic about this new friendship.

But that was okay. At least she had Will now.

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Sam had lost Will. She'd really lost Will.

She didn't even know how to process it, really. All she knew was that she had Will, and then she lost Will. Then he was gone. And although part of her brain told her he wasn't, that he was still alive, that he couldn't be dead, Sam was done being optimistic. She was done trusting in some random bald girl with superpowers, or her own intuition, or any other non-logical related facet of her life. Sam was a girl of science. She always looked at the facts.

Fact: Will Byers was dead.

Sam heard a soft knocking on her bedroom door, causing her to look up. For the past three hours or so (because she'd received no sleep whatsoever), she had just been sitting in her bed. She wasn't saying or doing anything, not even listening to music, just sitting there and staring at her sheets.

Will Byers was dead.

"Hey, Sammy," Stephanie's muffled voice vibrated through Sam's wooden door. "Can I come in?"

Sam tried to answer, she really did. But it was like the words got stuck in her throat. Her mind was a mess of Will, Will, Will, and she just couldn't speak. Sam continued to stare at her door, as if that would telepathically convey her message to Stephanie.

But Stephanie got some semblance of an answer when she tried opening Sam's door anyway, only for it to already be locked. She sighed out in the hallway, which didn't surprise Sam. She was used to disappointing people recently.

"I'm assuming you're gonna miss school today," Stephanie continued shakily, "and that's totally fine, alright? Take all the time you need. You've even got Corey worried," she added, trying to lighten the mood, but her joke only made Sam's stomach churn. Her breakdown just started flashing on repeat in her head.

Still, Sam did not answer. It shouldn't have been a surprise, and maybe it wasn't, but Stephanie still paused in case Sam wanted to.

"Alright, well, I've gotta get going. If you need anything, just... just call me or something. Anything. I'll be here as soon as I can," Stephanie nearly begged.

There were three words attached in the silence, like a ghost looming over them. Neither of them could say it, but both of them knew each other wanted to. It was just... ever since their parents died, well...

The words got stuck in their throat then too.

"Okay," Sam whispered in her raw, croaking voice, but Stephanie had already left the hallway. When a lone tear fell down Sam's face, she carelessly wiped it away.

Finally finding the ability to move, Sam shifted further down in her bed so she could lay in it properly. She pulled the covers up, wanting to swallow herself whole and lie in the reality Sam couldn't accept.

Will Byers was dead.

But just as she closed her eyes, no longer wanting to be conscious for the day—

"Sam? Lucas? Do you copy?" came Mike's garbled voice through Sam's walkie.

Sam's eyes snapped open. A dangerous glare laced her features, although Mike couldn't see it. There was a beat of silence where neither Sam nor Lucas answered.

"Guys, come on," Mike tried again, after a sigh. "I know you're there! This is urgent, I'm serious."

Sam and Lucas's ability to communicate wordlessly, even when they couldn't see or hear each other, was pretty astounding—both of them had somehow reached the agreement to ignore Mike's attempts at conversation.

"I'm not gonna stop until one of you answers," Mike stated, like the annoying asshole he was. "Samantha! Lucas!"

Then:

"Sam and Lucas, Sam and Lucas, Sam and Lucas, Sam and Lucas, Lucas and Sam, Lucas and Sam, Lucas and Sa—"

"Go away, Mike," Lucas interrupted, sounding just as annoyed as Sam felt. She had actually been in the process of finally getting out of her bed and reaching the walkie at her desk to do the same thing. "We're clearly not in the mood, alright? Over and out."

Thankful for Lucas warding Mike off, Sam picked up her walkie to turn it off.

"No!" Mike insisted."Not 'out.' I'm not messing around, okay? This is about Will. Over."

Sam reached blindly for her broken glasses before successfully grabbing and putting them on. Hearing Will's name made her heart drop to the pit of her stomach. She clicked on her walkie to respond, but still found herself at a loss for words.

"What about Will?" Lucas asked for her. "You mean about his funeral? Over."

"No, not his funeral. Screw his funeral!"

Sam's face screwed up. What?

"What?"

"Just get over here stat," Mike ordered. "And bring Dustin. Sam, I know you're listening. You're coming over too. I'll drag you myself. Over and out."

╰━━━ ◦ ✸ ◦ ✸ ◦ ━━━╯

So, apparently, Eleven had been fiddling with Mike's walkie, the same way she always was. Except this time—somehow, some way—she turned the walkie onto a channel where she and Mike heard Will. Will Byers. Their Will Byers, who was supposed to be dead.

When Sam first heard this, she didn't believe Mike in the slightest. It was textbook psychology: the first stage of grief was denial. Sam knew of grief very well; she went through all the stages when her parents died. She understood how close Mike and Will were, so she figured Mike was just trying to cope with the loss of his best friend.

Eleven tried proving it.

Sam, Lucas, Mike, and Dustin sat in front of Eleven, who was in the entrance of the fort Mike made for her. They were all sitting crisscross, and the party listened as Eleven attempted to get in contact with Will (arguably again).

Through the walkie, Sam heard the whimpering, crying, and muttering of a small child. She stiffened, trying to convince herself she did not recognize that sound. Her minds had to be playing tricks on her, grief screwing up her auditory comprehension the same way it was screwing up Mike's. Because the sound she thought she heard could not be real.

"We keep losing the signal, but you heard it, right?" Mike looked around the small circle desperately. Dustin glanced away while Lucas let out a small sigh.

"Yeah, I heard a baby," Lucas admitted.

Mike's brows pulled together. "What?" he asked.

"Mike, you obviously tapped into a baby monitor. It's probably the Blackburns' next door," Lucas reasoned, rubbing at his eye tiredly and trying his best to be sympathetic.

They all knew how close Mike and Will were, they were the first ones to become friends out of the entire party—it wasn't a surprise Mike was grasping for ways to keep Will alive in his mind, however unethical those methods were.

"Uh, did that sound like a baby to you?" Mike asked Lucas as if he were dumb. "That was Will!"

"Mike..."

"Lucas, you don't understand. He spoke last night. Words! He was singing that weird song he loves."

"It's not weird," Sam interjected, offended. "It's 'Should I Stay or Should I Go.'"

"Yeah, that! Even El heard him!" Mike cried.

Lucas scoffed. "Oh, well, if the weirdo heard him, then I guess—"

"Are you sure you're on the right channel?" Dustin intervened, not interested in getting caught between another one of Lucas and Mike's fights.

With an unamused eyebrow, Sam commented, "What right channel is there for contacting the afterlife?"

"Will's not dead!" Mike argued.

Sam had to take in a breath. "Sorry," she apologized. "My bad. What right channel is there for contacting your pronounced-dead-but-somehow-alive best friend?"

"Ha ha," Mike deadpanned. "I don't even think it's about that. I think, somehow, she's channeling him."

Dustin's face slowly took on an awed kind of realization. "Like... like Professor X."

"Yeah," Mike said, nodding enthusiastically.

"Are you actually believing this crap?" Lucas scoffed, looking at Dustin.

Dustin faltered. "I don't know, I mean... Do you remember when Will fell off his bike and broke his finger? He sounded a lot like that."

"I can recognize the sound of Will," Sam agreed, "that was definitely him."

Lucas's eyes went wide and his face looked hurt. "Sam—"

"But," she continued, "that's just... I don't understand how it can be possible. It can't be possible. We saw them pull his body out of the water."

"Thank you!" Lucas said, gesturing to Sam.

"Well, okay, don't sound too excited," Sam countered. "Now you sound like you want him to be dead. I was just stating the facts."

Mike huffed and rolled his eyes. "Not everything has to be about science, Sam!"

"They pronounced him dead, Mike!"

Sam immediately felt bad for snapping like that, made worse by the fact the group went silent. She sighed, disappointed in herself, forcing her shoulders to stop being so tense. The subject of death was always so sore for her. She thought she would be fine with differentiating Will from the sensitivity of her parents, but she'd just proved she was too weak and pathetic to do so.

"Maybe it's Will's ghost," Dustin proposed, unable to watch his friends' sanities crumble for any longer. "Maybe he's haunting us."

"It's not his ghost," Mike argued.

Lucas crossed his arms, unamused. "And how do you know that?"

"I just do!"

"Then what was in that water?!"

"I don't know!" Mike snapped, frustrated by Lucas's refusal to believe him. "All I know is Will's alive. Will is alive! He's out there somewhere. All we have to do is find him."

Lucas and Sam locked eyes. Lucas wore an angered expression as he nodded from Sam to Mike.

"Tell him we're not going on anymore wild goose chases," he requested of her.

But Sam faltered, and Lucas could read her like a book.

"Sam—"

"Scientifically, this makes no sense," Sam admitted. She inhaled shakily and rubbed her nervous hands on her pants. "But if there is a chance he's alive... I mean, come on, don't we have to take it? I have to take it. We have to find him, Lucas. It's Will. We can't do this without him."

Tentatively, Sam now met Mike's gaze. He nodded at her gratefully, to which Sam returned the gesture. Her expression was not that of hope, but it was certainly bordering it.

Sam was right. It was Will.

Mike's walkie whirred as Eleven continued her attempt to contact Will. Mike started paying attention to her again, sighing as he grabbed the device from her hands.

"This isn't gonna work," he said. "We need to get El to a stronger radio."

Sam perked up in realization. "Mr. Clarke's Heathkit ham shack," she said, to which Mike nodded with a smile.

"The Heathkit's at school," Lucas reminded them, annoyed."There is no way we're gonna get the weirdo in there without anyone noticing. I mean—look at her!"

In unison, Sam, Mike, and Dustin's heads followed Lucas's gaze and examined Eleven. They took in her shaven head and Sam's "grunge" clothes. Eleven looked back at them with her confused doe eyes. The longer Sam stared, the more intensely her brain worked.

"Or maybe there is," she muttered.

"Oh no," Lucas muttered.

"Scheming face?" Dustin whispered to Lucas.

Lucas nodded. "Definitely."

Sam seemed to snap back to reality. "It is not." It was, but Sam refused to let that term become a thing, despite how much the boys loved to use it. "But... but I do think I have an idea."

╰━━━ ◦ ✸ ◦ ✸ ◦ ━━━╯

Sam sat Eleven down on Nancy's bed, opening up Nancy's makeup box that she was temporarily misappropriating for the time being. The plan was to do Eleven's makeup whilst the boys searched through the Wheelers' old clothes and costumes. Sam would've preferred using makeup and clothes from the Gray household, but they didn't have time to clammer all the way there.

They were trying to create a disguise for Eleven so that the party could sneak her into the school without anyone batting an eye. All they really needed was a wig—everything about Eleven was perfectly fine; it was only the bald head that was a little disconcerting.

Nevertheless, Sam wasn't going to pass up on an opportunity to be girly again. It had been so long since she'd hung around women other than Stephanie or Aunt Kat.

Sam and Eleven sat across from each other, criss-crossed on Nancy's bed. Sam scooted herself closer to Eleven so she could get a better look at Eleven's face. Eleven flinched back, frightened by Sam's close proximity.

"Sorry," Sam apologized sheepishly. "My eyesight isn't the best right now. These mouth-breathers shoved over me and Mike, it broke my glasses. That's where I got this. See?"

She tapped at the cut that ran across her cheekbone—she'd taken the Hello Kitty bandage off, so the fresh wound was on display.

All Eleven seemed to have gathered from that was, "Glasses?"

Sam's eyebrows furrowed for a second, confused. It took her a moment before realizing Eleven was asking her what glasses were. Good Lord.

"Oh," Sam said. "Yeah. Glasses."

She took her own pair of glasses off, handing them to Eleven so that the girl could inspect them with her own hands.

"They're to help people who can't really see... like me," Sam explained. "I've been wearing them since the fourth grade after my, uh, parents took me to this person called an optometrist—that's basically just a doctor who examines eyesight and prescribes lenses."

Eleven put Sam's glasses on, testing them out for herself. Immediately, her face screwed up in confusion, making Sam smile in amusement. Eleven was swiveling her head around the room wildly, trying to understand.

"Blurry," she argued.

Sam laughed, but not unkindly. "They're blurry for you 'cause you can see," she explained. "Those lenses are made special to help my eyes in particular, so when I wear them, I see the way you do without them. Makes sense?"

"No."

"Thought so." Sam grinned, thoroughly entertained. "It's okay that you don't understand. No one's gonna quiz you on the physics of my glasses prescription."

Eleven blinked.

"What is quiz, physics, and prescription?"

Sam blinked back at her.

"You know, I should really learn to stop talking," Sam said, more-so to herself. She shook her head, waving herself off. "Sorry. Sometimes I just get really excited and start rambling. Especially because I'm not used to talking to girls. Or having friends that are girls. Or having people be nice to me besides the party. That kind of sounds sad. And I know my science talk gets annoying. Sorry... again. Do you mind if I take my glasses back now, so I can do your makeup?" And stop embarrasing myself?

Eleven gently handed Sam her broken glasses back. She was suddenly glad Eleven never said much, because if this was Stephanie, she would have been forcing Sam to elaborate on any of what she just said. This was one of those rare occasions where Sam wanted quiet, and she was grateful Eleven was someone who could give that to her.

Sam put her glasses on her face again, before rummaging through Nancy's makeup kit.

She wasn't planning on caking too much makeup onto Eleven's face—just simple blush and lip gloss. It wasn't like she needed it. This was the first time Sam had ever actually gotten close to her. She couldn't help but notice Eleven's natural beauty. The bald part would always probably get to her, but is Sam ignored that, Eleven's face was beautiful.

Uncle Dan would kill Sam if he heard those thoughts.

Just as Sam finished doing Eleven's makeup, the bedroom door swung open.

Lucas and Dustin strutted in. While Mike trailed tiredly behind them, a padded light pink dress hung from Lucas's hands, and a tussled blonde wig was thrown sloppily over Dustin's head.

"Your stylists have arrived." Lucas smirked, throwing the dress onto the bed.

Sam smiled, amused by her friend's antics. But she then noticed how Lucas faltered when Dustin failed to follow his lead; he turned to Dustin with a frown and tutted at him. Lucas slapped Dustin's shoulder and snatched the wig from his curly head, throwing it atop the pastel fabric and grumbling under his breath about his friend's stupidity. Then Mike made a comment under his breath about how they were both stupid.

Eleven frowned.

She held the corners of the dress up, looking it up and down in confusion. "H-How?" Sam stared back in question, and Eleven gestured toward the dress again. "How?"

Then Sam wore a look of realization, while the boys just grew awkward. She began crawling out the bed, waving her friends out of the room.

"I think you're all stupid," she said. "Now get out. I'll help Eleven get ready."

╰━━━ ◦ ✸ ◦ ✸ ◦ ━━━╯

The impatient trio of boys turned at the sound of the door opening—Sam snuck out Nancy's room with a nervously hidden smile on her face.

"Alright." She swiped away a strand of hair falling in front of her lenses. "She's ready."

And just as she said the words, Eleven timidly joined them out in the hallway. She was now wearing the blonde wig that was even lighter than Sam's hair. The pink dress Lucas found fit Eleven perfectly, with its hem going all the way to Eleven's knees. Sam had paired the outfit with long, white socks from Hawkins High School and dirtied, white sneakers.

Dustin's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Woah, she's—"

"Pretty," Mike finished. Lucas pulled a face. Then the sappy smile fell from Mike's expression, and an air of false indifference clouded him. "Good. You look pretty good."

Eleven grinned slightly.

She made her way over to the mirror in the middle of the hall, then stared at herself through those large, brown eyes.

"Pretty," she echoed softly.

When she caught Sam's eye in the reflection of the mirror, Sam managed to make that smile on her face grow.

"Yeah," Sam encouraged. "Pretty."

╰━━━ ◦ ✸ ◦ ✸ ◦ ━━━╯

"Guys, maybe this is a bad idea," Sam muttered anxiously. "If Corey sees me, I'm dead. My whole family thinks I'm holed up at home."

The group of five had, of course, just made it through the front doors of their middle school.

In a very annoying, definitely exasperated tone, Mike asked, "What's more important, Sam? Finding our best friend who's probably in terrible danger, or getting in trouble for going to school?"

Sam's fists clenched idly, but she hoped no one noticed.

"Me getting in trouble and you getting in trouble would be a little different, wouldn't it?" she returned, a tense note to her voice.

The trio of boys stiffened a little too. They knew Sam was right, and they didn't even want to ask what getting in trouble with Uncle Dan entailed. There was a reason the party never hung out at Sam's household—he was one of the scariest adults any of them had the displeasure of meeting.

Mike sighed, taking the bite out his tone and making it gentler. "We won't let him see you, alright?" Then, now addressing the whole group, "But if anyone does see us, remember to look sad. I doubt even Corey Alan Gray is that much an asshole he'd snitch because you're mourning, Sam."

"How do you know his middle name?" Sam asked.

Mike blinked.

"I just do."

"Why would I be mourning Will if he's not dead?"

"Pretend you're morning," Mike said, terribly disgruntled. "God, Sam, are you serious?"

Sam shrugged back at him defensively, both hands holding either strap of her backpack. She muttered something under her breath about just asking, though she knew better than to provoke Mike any further. The whole while Sam and Mike were bickering, Eleven had shot Lucas and Dustin a confused look when Mike told them to act sad. In response, they'd drawn their fingers down their eyes and made pouty faces, to demonstrate someone crying. Eleven copied their actions, making sure she understood them correctly. Dustin enthusiastically nodded and smiled at Eleven when she did.

"Attention students," came the voice of Principal Coleman on the PA system, "there will be an assembly to honor Will Byers in the gymnasium now. Do not go to fourth period."

The five kids finally reached the door labeled "Audio Visual Room." Mike was the one who attempted opening it. He was also the one to find out it was locked. All the handle did when Mike attempted jiggling it was remain unwavering.

Mike hit the door in aggravation. "It's locked."

They stared back at him with dissatisfied, crushing hope. Lucas's face wrenched up. "What?" he asked, more-so to himself before trying to open the door.

Of course, it was locked, and didn't open for him either.

"Hey!" Sam started with an exciting idea, acknowledging Eleven. "Do you think you could open it? With your powers?"

Eleven returned her gaze with a startled expression, opening her mouth slightly.

But what she was going to say, Sam would never know.

"Kids?"

Mr. Clarke had come rounding the corner, out of fucking nowhere holy shit. They whipped to face him, bodies flooding with fear.

Lucas tried to lean casually against the locked door, though he looked anything but. "Hi," he greeted, smiling awkwardly.

"Assembly's about to start," Mr. Clarke informed, suspicious and wary.

They remembered Mike's words: If anyone does see us, remember to look sad.

"We know," Mike responded in a quiet voice. He looked to the ground, kicking his foot sadly. "We're just, you know..."

"Upset," Lucas finished for Mike, huffing nervously. Then he realized upset people didn't smile, so his face snapped into a robotic frown, eyes flitting down with a forlorn look.

"Y-Yeah, d-definitely upset," Dustin stammered, with no emotion.

Sam exhaled a deep, dramatic breath, pretending to sniffle. Eyes trained on her fidgeting hands, she added, "It's just really... hard. We need some alone time."

"To... cry," Dustin concluded.

God, he was a horrible actor.

"Yeah, listen..." Mr. Clarke said empathetically, somehow falling for that performance, "I get it. I do. I know how hard this is, but let's just be there for Will, huh?"

Under Mr. Clarke's gaze, the kids kept their sad, pitiful looks. Sam nodded dismally at her science teacher to show she understood, purposefully making it look pathetic so that he would feel bad.

"And then," he continued, fishing in the pocket of his pants to pull out a jingling metal (Sam squinted to note it was a ring of keys), tossing it over to Sam who just barely caught it in her uncoordinated hands, "the Heathkit is all yours for the rest of the day. What do you say?"

The kids all shared optimistic looks. They'd really just gotten away with that. He even gave them the keys to the AV room! Everything was going to be fine—

"I don't believe we've met," Mr. Clarke said to Eleven. "What's your name?"

Everyone looked in a panic toward the girl, who slowly let out an answer. "...Eleven—"

"ELEANOR!" Mike interjected, amplifying his voice so it drowned out Eleven's. Wracking his brain for a story, he stammered, "She's my, uh—"

"Cousin," Lucas answered, still leaning his back against the door like a weirdo.

"Second cousin!" Dustin added for no reason, holding up two fingers—just in case the man with a PhD in physics and applied mathematics had trouble with numbers.

Sam nodded rapidly, holding a wide-eyed-yet-attempting-to-look-serious face. "She's here for Will's funeral."

"Ah, well." Mr. Clarke nodded, before kindly addressing Eleven again: "Welcome to Hawkins Middle, Eleanor. I wish you were here under better circumstances."

Fortunately, Eleven had an incredible poker-face that didn't show she was lying at all. "Thank you," she said blankly.

Upon staring at her further, Mr. Clarke's eyebrows pulled together. "Uh, where are you from exactly?"

The party's stares on Eleven turned panicked. They watched a haunted look overtake her eyes, and she began shaking her head. "Bad place—"

"SWEDEN!" Sam interjected.

"I have a lot of Swedish family," Mike blurted, jumping onto Sam's lie without any hesitation.

Dustin nodded, still staring Mr. Clarke dead in the eyes. "She hates it there."

"Cold!" Lucas elaborated, nodding rapidly.

"Subzero," Dustin dramatized.

Mr. Clarke frowned at them, but he decided not to ask any more questions.

"Shall we?" he asked awkwardly, throwing a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the assembly hall.

The kids followed him obediently, herding closer to him and forming a sort of protective barrier between him and Eleven to delay any more questions they hadn't made up the answers to yet.

╰━━━ ◦ ✸ ◦ ✸ ◦ ━━━╯

"At times like these, it is important that we come together as a community. We come—"

Principal Coleman was promptly cut off by Dustin throwing (yes, throwing) the double doors to the gymnasium open. He made a loud slam that had everyone's heads whipping toward them. Principal Coleman was shocked into a silence.

The intruders stared back at everyone dumbly, now feeling terribly awkward under the attention—or, at least Sam could say that for herself.

Looking back at all the eyes on her, she somehow immediately made out Corey's tense body sitting in the bleachers. Sam's eyesight was too shitty to make out his expression, but he was watching her too.

And so was Justin Zimmerman.

And so was Carrie Cunningham.

And so was every goddamn person on the planet, apparently.

"Abort," Sam whispered to her friends in a panic. She immediately pivoted on her heel, trying to escape the gymnasium as quickly as she'd walked in.

Sam tried charging past her friends, but Lucas promptly grabbed a hold of her shoulders. He turned her around and forced Sam to stay, because apparently he was praying on Sam's downfall. What had she ever done to him?

He was gripping both of her biceps as he began guiding her to an empty spot in the bleachers.

"I don't want to be here," Sam hissed, peering over her shoulder at Lucas with a glare. She attempted to dig the heels of her shoes against the tiles below to stop Lucas from pushing her.

"We have to do this," Lucas whispered in return, heaving Sam all the way to take a spot in the assembly.

"We have come together to heal," Principal Coleman resumed, moving past the interruption.

Sam tried not to look in Corey's direction, but her head was turning his way out of its own volition. She was startled to find he was already staring at her. His expression was unreadable, which was almost worse than if it was angry. She was more than accustomed to her anger. She had forgotten he could be anything but.

Corey's eyes traveled over Sam's group of friends, and they fell upon Eleven—

"We have come together to grieve..."

╰━━━ ◦ ✸ ◦ ✸ ◦ ━━━╯

"Will Byers's death is an unimaginable tragedy," Principal Coleman continued his long speech at the memorial.

Sam knew she was supposed to be on the side that Will was alive, but Principal Coleman's words were successfully punching her in the heart. She still couldn't believe they were talking about a dead kid, and that kid was Will.

"Will was an exceptional student and a wonderful friend to all of us. It's impossible to express the hole his loss will leave in our community. I'd like to introduce you to Sandy Sloane. She's a local grief counselor from the church over in Jonesboro. But before she comes up here, I just want those of you who are having trouble dealing with this tragic loss to know—"

"Look at these fakers," Mike whispered as he surveyed the crowd.

Lucas broke his attention away from the speech to take a look as well. He shook his head. "They probably didn't even know his name 'til today."

Then, they all heard quiet laughter from a good bit away to the right of them. Sam's head turned to find the perpetrators were none other than Troy and James.

Her fists immediately clenched in her lap. They weren't even near Sam and her friends. The two assholes were being so loud and heartless that the party could hear them all the way from where they sat.

Troy and James were clearly making fun of Will and his assembly, even after under the impression he was literally dead.

How horrible of a person did you have to be? To laugh in the face of mourning, to hate in a time when people are supposed to come together? Sam, for some reason, was disappointed in their behavior—surprised that there was a part of her that still held out hope Troy and James could be empathetic people. They dismantled expectations she had for them even when Sam hadn't even known they were there in the first place. That was how fucked up Troy and James were.

Eleven peered at Troy and James from behind Sam, Lucas, and Mike (Dustin was behind her).

"Mouth-breather," she muttered, and Sam was suddenly brought back to their earlier conversation about Sam's glasses.

The wakeup call helped Sam snap out of her thoughts, unclenching her fists to realize there were now crescent marks in her palms with how hard she'd been squeezing. She was so startled to feel her pure, unadulterated hatred.

Slowly, her head turned to meet Mike's stare.

She knew then that he was feeling it too.

╰━━━ ◦ ✸ ◦ ✸ ◦ ━━━╯

When the assembly ended, all the students began filing out of the gymnasium all at once. Sam couldn't help but find Corey again. She noticed with a breath of panic that he was trying to make his way to her.

Totally nonchalantly and discreetly and not-at-all obviously, Sam tried to get lost in the crowd and use Lucas and Dustin as her personal body-guards. She would've hid behind Mike too, but for some reason he was separated from the group entirely.

"Hey, Troy!"

Oh, maybe that was why.

Troy and James slowly turned to meet Mike's venomous glare. Sam was surprised by his sudden boost of confidence. Of course she wanted to chew them out for being douches too, but it wasn't like she believed she could actually do it.

"You... you think this is funny?!" Mike seethed.

Troy sneered, taking a threatening step forward.

"What'd you say, Wheeler?"

Sam, Eleven, Lucas, and Dustin immediately flanked Mike's sides, watching the interaction carefully. Sam thought Mike was crazy for confronting their bullies (especially after what happened yesterday), but she would take his side no matter what. To display that, she glared hard at them too.

"I saw you guys laughing over there," Mike announced, fists clenched in an effort to hide his nerves. "And I think that's a real messed up thing to do!"

"Didn't you listen to the grief counselor, Wheeler? Grief shows itself in funny ways," James teased. He shared a smirk with Troy that didn't go unnoticed by Mike.

"Besides, what's there to be sad about anyway?" Troy leered, a malicious smile on his face. "Will's in fairyland now, right? Flying around with all the other fairies? All happy and gay?"

They'd received themselves an audience with all their arguing. Most of the middle schoolers hadn't even left the gymnasium yet, forming a circle around the altercation in annoying nosiness.

The only plus side of the onlookers was that they were able to witness first-hand how Troy and James tried walking away from Mike, singing, "Tralalala!" as they made fun of Will furthermore. They were able to witness how Mike—skinny, weak, and unathletic Michael Wheeler—snapped, charging forward and shoving Troy Walsh straight to the ground.

A thud echoed the room, mixed with Troy's grunt and gasps from the students who all observed the action. Sam's jaw hung at Mike's performance, her heart pounding in her ears over the series of Oooh's.

"You're dead, Wheeler!" Troy snarled as he picked himself up from the ground. "DEAD!"

Troy began to charge toward Mike, but suddenly, he stopped in his running stance. Sam's eyebrows pulled together, perplexed. There was no reason for Troy not to attack Mike—he already attacked Mike nearly every day.

But then, Sam saw it.

A darkness began soaking Troy's pants, coming directly from his groin. The wetness slowly began moving down his legs, and Sam literally could not fucking believe what she saw was real.

"Holy shit," Corey cursed, unable to keep the amusement out of his voice. "Troy fucking peed himself!"

As Troy's urine continued, a puddle slowly began forming at his feet. The whole entourage of students broke out into hysteric laughter, and Sam definitely was not (was) the most excited of them all. Lucas nudged her, looking quite pleased with what happened, which only caused Sam's giggles to grow. She shared an amused grin with Dustin, not even really thinking about the science of how it all happened.

Or, lack of science. Sam kind of missed the part where Eleven had squeezed Troy's bladder with her superpowers. There wasn't much science to it, actually.

Sam didn't care. It was fucking hilarious.

"Hey!" came the stern voice of Principal Coleman. "What's going on here?"

Sam, Lucas, Mike, and Dustin all looked at each other in alarm. They laughed to themselves as they made a run for the exit, and just for a minute things were okay.

Just for a minute.

╰━━━ ◦ ✸ ◦ ✸ ◦ ━━━╯

Sam opened up the door to the AV room with the keys Mr. Clarke had given her. She quickly turned on the lights as she beckoned for the rest of her friends to file in. They made it over to where Mr. Clarke placed the Heathkit ham shack, filing behind the table and facing his radio. It was still the coolest thing Sam had ever seen, so she felt a sort of thrill getting to use it again.

She was a nerd. Sue her.

Eleven sat in the chair right in front of the Heathkit, with the rest of the kids gathering around her.

"Now what?" Dustin asked, unsure.

Mike leaned to reach the radio, fiddling with the setup to get it up and running for Eleven. "She'll find him. Right, El?"

Eleven didn't really respond, so all they heard was the whirring of the radio as Mike tried to set it properly. He turned the dials and looked at Eleven to check on her.

Eleven's eyes closed shut so she could... Honestly, Sam had no clue what Eleven was trying to do. Mike said she was finding Will, but like Sam said, that was scientifically impossible. There wasn't a logical explanation for how Eleven could possibly do that.

Then again, there wasn't really an explanation for why she had telekinetic powers, so Sam shouldn't really be speaking.

As Eleven focused, the Heathkit continued to hum on whatever channel Mike put it to. Sam, Lucas, Mike, and Dustin stared expectantly, all silently wondering how this was going to go.

Then the radio started switching channels on its own. With wide eyes, Sam began hearing clips of random conversations happing in range of the Heathkit. Eleven wasn't touching a single dial—only using her mind.

"She's doing it," Mike said proudly. "She's finding him!"

Dustin shook his head in awe. "This is crazy."

Lucas rolled his eyes. "Calm down. She just closed her eyes."

Sam pointed at Eleven incredulously, said to Lucas, "You can't hear her surfing through the channels? I can't believe this—"

The lightbulb above them randomly burned out with a loud explosion, scaring the arguing party.

In unison, their four heads looked up at the darkness.

"Holy..." Dustin muttered.

Then the radio changed course again. They heard a crackling boom that had them whipping their attention back downward. Boom. Again. Boom. Boom. BOOM. BOOM!

"What is that?" Sam asked with furrowed eyebrows

The kids looked around nervously, but none of them had an answer.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

A child panting. Whimpering.

BOOM! BOOM!

Then—

"Mom?"

Sam gasped, flinching back in bewilderment. That was undoubtedly the sound of Will Byer's voice. Their Will. And he sounded absolutely terrified.

"No way!" Lucas exclaimed, just as freaked out as Sam was.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

"Mom!" Will's voice called out again. "Please..."

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

"MOM!" the urgency in Will's tone amplified tenfold. He was so afraid, and it was breaking Sam's heart. "MOM—"

"WILL!" Mike shouted back into the Heathkit's microphone, trying to get through to his best friend.

"Will, it's us!" Lucas yelled. "Are you there?!"

"Can you hear us?! We're here!" Dustin called desperately.

But Will just—

"Hello? Mom?"

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Lucas slapped the table in frustration. "Why can't he hear us?"

"I don't know!" Mike cried, equally as upset.

Although Sam actively knew Will couldn't hear them on the Heathkit, Sam also wasn't thinking properly with the amount of distress she was under. She was eyeing the radio, terribly worried, breathing shortened breaths.

Desperately, she attempted, "Will? Will, please, come on!"

"...Sam?"

Sam, Lucas, Mike, and Dustin gasped in perfect synchronization. The boys' heads whipped to face Sam, mirroring Sam's face of utter disbelief and disconcertion.

"H-He heard you!" Mike concluded, as if anyone needed a replay on what happened about two fucking seconds ago. "Sam, how did he—?!"

"I don't know," Sam answered, in a quiet, greatly disturbed whisper.

Lucas shook his head, trying to process it all. "Do you think—?"

"Mom?" Will's frantic voice cut Lucas off, and they all remembered they didn't have time to worry about Sam right now. "Mom! Mom..."

In the background, there was a low, animalistic growling that put everyone on edge.

"MOM, IT'S COMING! It's like home, but it's so dark! It's so dark and empty! And it's cold! MOM?! MOM! MOM, PLEASE!"

And then the Heathkit exploded.

Everyone yelled at the scare, jumping away from the large flames consuming Mr. Clarke's radio. Eleven's eyes shot open with a heaving gasp. The light above them finally flickered back on, just as the fire alarm sounded due to the amount of smoke that was beginning to cloud the room.

Thinking quickly (and maybe cursing repeatedly as she went), Sam ran to grab the fire extinguisher that was in the corner of the AV room. She pointed the nozzle at the Heathkit before extinguishing the fire with the white foam inside. Sam didn't stop until she was entirely sure the flames were gone.

When they were, Sam faced all of her friends with a bewildered expression, panting. They matched her features, with furrowed eyebrows and gaping mouths that quirked down. Somehow, Sam knew they were all thinking the same, exact thing:

What? The? Fuck?

╰━━━ ◦ ✸ ◦ ✸ ◦ ━━━╯

Published: January 14, 2024
Re-published: October 30, 2025

BAILEY YAPS...

I think it should be noted in the og version of the story, this chapter was the author notes where I debated what Hughclair's ship name was. Other options were Lusam, Samcas, Sinclughes and I'm lmfao can you imagine it being anything other than Hughclair. Someone said they sound like diseases and I still laugh about it

Something I really like about Sam is that, even though she's only ever been friends with boys, she's still such a girl's girl. Like she was only around boys for a vital six years of her developmental period, but she doesn't put down other girls for being girls, and she doesn't defend her guy friends in all that they do. She likes fashion, shopping, and dressing people up. She likes D&D, video games, and science. She doesn't put anyone down if they do/don't like these things. When her guy friends are wrong, she criticizes them. She uplifts other women. She is the girlest girl's girl of all time

I also really like how she goes "That's not possible... science... logic..." but 9/10 times when her brain and emotions go to war, her emotions win out lmfao