𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐗 - custody battle

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 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐍'𝐓 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 One had expected.

 Perhaps she thought she'd find Will in the comfort of his home, struggling against the hold of the Mind Flayer. She thought he'd have been exactly where he needed to be, home, in the midst of familiar surroundings.

 But then again, what could she have predicted, really? For though she had delved into the depths of Will Byers' mind, it wasn't really his right now. The Mind Flayer was in control, puppeteering Will's thoughts and body as though he were nothing but a limp rag-doll.

 There were echo's around her, stray thoughts that still belonged to Will, bouncing around his head but never quite able to break through the Mind Flayer's hold. He called out for his mother, his voice so very scared and frail. He screamed for Jonathan, desperation in his voice, begging his brother to save him. He shouted Mike's name over and over again. Dustin and Lucas; he begged for them to figure it out just as they always did.

 It was like a ghost was whispering into her ears. His voice floating around her like old television static.

 Her eyes broke open and squinted against the darkness One found herself within. Everything had been doused in twilight and it was as cold as a late December daybreak; she was surprised to find no snow coating the ground. Her skin erupted in goosebumps and no matter how hard she tried to scrub her hands against her flesh... she felt nothing.

 Each puff of air that squirmed from her lips billowed into the dark sky as nothing more than a wisp of white. It was soon swallowed by the haze.

 But as her curious eyes followed it higher and higher, watching as it faded away — she finally saw the ash littering the air. Small flakes flitted to and fro, passing through her as though she was just one of Kali's conjured Illusions. She wasn't real here. She could talk and search but the extent of her interactions was limited to her powers; the very thing that allowed her to invade somebodies head.

 There was a flash, red streaks glittering through the sky and trailing across the horizon like an old spun spider web. She almost flinched when another CRACK rang out, tearing through her eardrums, splitting through her mind.

 Her body flickered, and for a second she could see the Byers' living room; all of the crumpled drawings lining the wall like an odd choice of wallpaper. The motionless Demo-dogs bleeding out into the ratty old rug... Then, as she tightened her grip, she was back. Back in the fall of ash, back in the darkness again. She wasn't leaving until she found Will.

 Her steps were light, as though she had the grace of a ballerina walking atop her tip-toes. She passed through an aged gate that looked as though somebody had taken a battering ram to it. She grew closer and closer to an old building; bricks had tumbled from the composition, the ancient — and what had once been white — door hung by a single hinge.

 The sign was smeared with ash that fell in clusters. Dark vines that almost seemed to move had coiled around it... Yet even still, she could just about make out the words; Hawkins Middle School.

 Her head cocked; why on earth would she find Will here? Why not a place with more meaning like his home, the Arcade he frequented with his friends, hell, even the lab. She shuddered; better the old school than Hawkins Laboratory; it was a nightmare enough with it's pristine walls, let alone ash, dirt and vines.

 She took another step, sure to avoid stepping on a squirming vine.

 The voice assaulting her ears grew louder, echoing as it went. She followed it like a trail of breadcrumbs until her feet stilled on their own accord, her heart seizing within her chest. Fear.

 Another flash alighted the sky, red incisions illuminating, a harsh CRACK! like a slap to the face. And this time, she saw the monster.

 It was more of a silhouette looming over the entire expanse of darkness and vines. Nothing could have prepared her for what it looked like, just standing there. The air went still, static ghosting over her flesh sending her hairs to stand at attention. The beast was like a giant spider or bundle of old cables. Its long legs protruded from its middle, much like a haunting bug. It shuddered, hollow sounds escaping its form.

 One wanted to run. She wanted to retreat and find herself back within her own body; anything to escape the monstrosity before her. How little Will Byers had held out for so long was astounding.

 His voice called out again. Small, terrified, desperate.

 "Mom!"

 "Jonathan!"

 "Mike! Help me!"

 He called and called all the while his voice grew ever more despairing as it rattled around his mind, never able to escape his lips. He was calling into the darkness, and nobody was there to reply.

 One started forth. Every scream and cry and beg from the little boy spurred her feet to slam even harder against the ground. Whisps of hair billowed around her, her shirt fell from the waistband of her trousers, her shoelace came undone but she never stopped.

 She rounded a corner, shoes slapping against the parking lot of the school while old cars lay rusted and beaten down to scrap metal. A tire lay flat in her path, so did half a car door. She passed them by, watching as a billowing pillar of smoke cascaded down behind the school.

 There he was, right at the very end of it.

 Will Byer's stood at the very centre of the school field; his arms were spread wide, his pale and small body stuttering as the smoke, no, as the Mind Flayer seeped in through his mouth, curling within his body. He was choking, spluttering with every passing second as fog curled around his wrists and ankles, holding him so very still.

 This was it. This was the very moment the Mind Flayer had truly gotten inside of Will Byers; not only was she seeing the physical form of how Will was trapped, but the memory of how it had happened. The sliver of the Mind Flayer that had invaded Will Byers had taken him at the school, it had made him fall to the beast's mercy.

 He became a spy, a host for the parasite.

 This was where she'd need to create the barrier.

 One crept forth, her shoes hardly making a sound against the decaying grass. She stepped over creeping vines that lashed out, trying to grasp ahold of her feet. Then, as she became but an arm's length away from Will, her hands became alight with crimson.

 Her hand inched out, and within a swift movement, she grabbed ahold of Will's wrist and tugged him away. She almost threw the boy behind her, her hands finding their place within the air as a burst of scarlet seeped from her palms.

 She could hear the boy cry out, landing painfully upon the ground. His hands clawed at his neck, spluttering and choking to rid himself of that awful, invasive, feeling. For a second, he could actually breathe. For a moment, he could hear his own thoughts.

 "Will?" One gritted out, her teeth clashing together painfully. Her legs trembled, her back curling closer and closer to the ground as she tried to wrangle the cluster of smoke. It fought back, thrashing in her crimson hold. She looked over her shoulder, and though she hated to do it to the poor boy still panting on his knees, she flicked her wrist and watched as a small ball of energy pushed at his chest, "Wake up!"

 His eyes snapped open, glazed over a vibrant red.

 "Mom?" he whispered into the air, "Mom!"

 "Will? Baby?" Joyce's voice was a mere echo. She sounded submerged, as though a tidal wave had come crashing forth, swallowing her whole. But she was talking, and Will could hear her. 

 "Please, sweetheart," She called again, and One could hear the tremor in her voice, "We don't know how to help you. Tell us how we can help you."

 One almost sighed in relief; Will was out and they could finally speak to him. She drowned the conversation out, focusing every last ounce of her energy upon the sliver of the Mind Flayer before her. The smoke twisted and coiled, as though a snake ready to strike forth with venomous fangs. Every clatter it made against her energy felt as though she'd been struck in the gut with a hefty punch.

 Her head throbbed, and spots had already begun to litter her vision. So very far back, in the depths of her own sequestered mind, she could hear Eleven's whimper. But One couldn't let it deter her.

 She pushed harder, trying to stand at full height only to gasp as the Mind Flayer forced more of its own power forth. The beast standing mighty before her, glinting with each crack of crimson thunder seemed to shiver and quake. Then, an ear-splitting shriek rang out.

 The bundle of smoke she'd encaptured grew and grew and grew. Wisps flung themselves back and forth, the dark ash twirling together grew and multiplied with each passing second. Her back ached, and her legs were wobbling, threatening to topple her over... But she knew if her hold was broken, she'd be forced back from where she'd come, and Will would be alone, stranded within the darkness once more.

 "You need to..." Will's voice was a gentle caress to her ears, floating by on a whim. Then it hardened, static surrounding each syllable as he cried out, "Make it hot!"

 The Mind Flayer knew, of course it did. It knew that Will had spilled its secret, its weakness. The beast lingering in the shadows moved. THUD. THUD. THUD. The ground shook in time with its steps, each one slow, taunting and deafening.

 One knew they had what they needed... But she could hear Joyce's sobs. Jonathans weeps. Mike and Dustin and Lucas... the promises they were making.

 "We'll save you."

 "You'll be okay."

 "You've got this, Will."

 She had to hold on just that little bit longer; Will deserved it. He needed to hear just how hard they were fighting for him.

 But the Mind Flayer had grown impatient. It was tired of her trifling. A wiry leg had approached, spindly like a forgotten skeleton buried beneath the dirt. It lurched, darting out like a predator...

 It collided with her, slamming her against the ground. Her stomach twisted, her head pounded and blood began seeping from her gut... The scream that tore from her mouth could have shattered a cathedral.

 Eleven watched on with unfiltered horror as blood poured from her sister's nose. It flowed like a river, trailing well past her lips, clustering beneath her chin, before slipping to her shirt. There was a splatter atop Will's forehead, the very place One had soothed with the back of her hand.

 Eleven scrambled, only for Hopper to hold her back. He hated it too, watching that much blood pour from her body as she writhed on the spot. But he'd made a promise to her. No bringing her back, no breaking her free. His hands tightened around Eleven, bringing the girl closer to his chest. He could feel the warmth of tears crawl through the thin fabric of his scrubs.

 His eyes narrowed on the girl, watching the way her fingers shook. Then it was as though every ounce of air had been pulled by her chest, greedy hands stealing it from her. She gasped, and even Hopper was surprised to see her chest still intact.

 Everything happened far too fast for any of them to spring into action. The remnants of red atop her fingertips faded in an instant, as though a switch had flicked and all lights had shut off. She toppled back, an earth-shattering scream erupting from her throat.

 Her head collided with the ground, and Joyce scurried to help her. Hopper watched the woman smooth back the girl's hair, muttering such soft and sweet affirmations into her ear. Jonathan had rushed over, an old tea towel in his hands and Joyce wasted no time in dabbing at the girl's nose, bringing her head into her lap.

 One could feel everything all at once. That numbness faded away from her body as the thread between herself and Will snapped and everything came tumbling in. The raging pain at the back of her head from colliding with the Byers' old wooden floor. The sticky feeling atop her lip from the blood that continued to stream. The metallic twang as red liquid spilt into her mouth.

 Her eyes were clamped shut, willing away the pain and the black spots that would likely fill her vision. Joyce's voice was muffled beside her. The cries from the children were drowning out.

 She swallowed, forcing that taste down her throat. One blinked, eyes fluttering as the harsh light from the lamp above stung her iris'. She hadn't even realised she'd been gasping, her hand clawing at her chest as though to force the oxygen in.

 She couldn't stop. The rasps and wheezes kept coming... Then a face came into view. Gruff and as grizzly as ever... yet a certain softness in those eyes. Hopper. He tore her scrambling hand away from her heart, squeezing it within his own. Keeping her grounded.

 He'd done this before. He'd taken a girl's hand as she choked and spluttered. Sara. He'd done it with Sara. He almost pictured her, but One looked so very different that it was impossible to. Sarah had been tiny with pale white skin, like delicate porcelain. Her eyes had been the lightest shade of blue he'd ever seen, like a stagnant lake in the middle of her favourite park. Her hair had been a bouquet of light yellow curls. He swallowed and forced that image from his mind. Instead, he placed her hand on his own chest.

 "Feel that?" He murmured, "Breath with me, c'mon kid."

 She couldn't speak without choking, she couldn't so much as nod her head without it throbbing. So she slackened and let her entire body fall limp. Her head fell deeper into Joyce's lap, feeling warmth spread as the older woman smoother her hair back, dotting the towel at her lip. Her hand rose... and then fell... up... and down...

 Hopper took deep inhales through his nose, exhaling heavily through his mouth. His eyes were on One's the whole time as she studied him, paying close attention every single time he breathed.

 The wheezing stopped.

 One swallowed, tears brewing within her eyes as she felt that pain all over again. Pain that had never even happened. It had seemed so real, to watch and feel as the Mind Flayer punctured her body. Her guts had been plied out, her blood like a red sea as it pooled around her.

 The only real thing had been her scream.

 She choked again, but not on her panic or fear, but a sob that threatened to claw free. Her fingers shook within Hopper's hold, "Thank you."

 His lips twitched, but he made no move to let go, nor reply with his own words. He feared he'd sound a lot like her if he uttered a single syllable.

 "Oh!" Cried Joyce. Though she'd known the girl trembling in her grasp for a mere hour, Joyce Byers was the very definition of a mother. She shielded, she saved and she soothed. Her forehead touched against One's, voice merely a whisper, "Thank you."

 One felt her lips wobble and though she'd have easily twisted her arm to talk ahold of Joyce, her body refused to move. It felt like the pointed edges of a bundle of pins and needles had been stuck to her feet and legs, as though bricks had been tied to her arms.

 But her chest finally felt relieved.

 "One?" A meek voice called, parting through the children. Eleven brushed by Nancy, then Steve and Jonathan before pausing by Hopper's side. Her eyes glittered with unshed tears as she looked down at her sister, "Are you okay?"

 "I'm —" One swallowed away the crack in her voice as she sighed heartily, "I'm alright. Just — Just a little tired."

 Eleven's teeth sank into her lip as she nodded, her fingers twisting themselves into Hopper's scrubs as she leaned her weight against him, staring down at her tattered converse. The blood on her sister's nose was disastrous; a small droplet would fall here and there, maybe even a spoonful... But the lower part of One's face was smeared in it. The neckline of her shirt was sodden, sticking to the skin of her chest.

 Joyce had tried her hardest to wipe it away.

 One hated that look in Eleven's eyes; the utter worry. But she'd done it. She had created a barrier between Will and the Mind Flayer, fighting it off while the little boy finally spoke of his own volition.

 His head was still in her lap, sweat still prodding at her jeans as he remained silent.

 One couldn't believe just how strong he was; he was the smallest of them all and yet he'd persisted so heavily against the monster invading his mind. He fought with all the strength he had. They had to save him.

 One shifted silently, ignoring the hastened protests falling from Joyce, Hopper and Eleven. Hopper grunted, his eyes rolling skywards; none of the damned kids could sit still. He took a hold of Will, craning the poor boy's neck so that he laid silently upon the ground, freeing One from his weight. Then, without warning, he slid an arm under One's legs, another by her back and hoisted her onto the couch.

 She blinked, and he pointed a finger her way, "You, stay there."

 One hadn't the energy to argue, though if she had, there wasn't a doubt in her mind that she and Hopper would have grown red in the face, veins bulging all while snapping heartily at one another. He seemed that type, and really, so was she.

 Eleven was by her side in an instant, skidding to her knees while her thumb smoothed over her sister's knuckles. The young girl frowned, watching as harsh puffs of air still staggered within One's chest, the way blood still stained her skin. Her fingers were trembling.

 "It got me." One laughed, though it sounded miserable as she sighed out, "The Mind Flayer, it got me."

 "You saw it?" Dustin asked, scurrying to her side, bumping into Steve who'd already been trailing over. "What did it look like? What happened?"

 One smiled at his curiosity. The kids all peering at her with wide and awaiting eyes seemed to have no fear at all. Each was ready to sit down with crossed legs as though she were to begin reading a bedtime story...

 "I saw a memory of Will's... The day the Mind Flayer got into his head." She looked at Mike, knowing that he'd likely have the answer, "The school? That's where it happened?"

 He nodded mutely, and so she continued, relishing in the light swipes Eleven caressed over her hand, "I pulled him away from it, blocked the Mind Flayer, and pushed Will back to reality..." Bile rose in her throat then, the mere image of watching as the beast descended from the thunderous sky, stamping her into the earth, "It struck me when I was weakened... Right here."

 One patted her stomach, feeling it twitch as though the Mind Flayer was reaching out once more, "I saw... I don't think you want to know what I saw. But The Mind Flayer... It's... It's big. It towered over Hawkins like a..."

 "Like a God?" Dustin supplied. His face seemed to have gotten closer, eyes twinkling like stars in the sky.

 "Yeah... I don't know how Will's done it." She craned her neck her gaze landing upon Joyce as she ignored the sharp sting that flared within her skull. She was certainly going to be bruised, "He's a fighter. He's doing better than I could... What — what did he say?"

 Joyce tested the words within her mouth, "He said 'He likes it cold.'"

 "Your house is freezing."

 The puzzle snapped into place and Joyce felt her chest constrict. Her eyes blew wide, a hand planted against her forehead. All those times Will had stared her dead in the eye, muttering about the house being far too warm, even as a gust of frozen air blasted through. The time Will had filled the bathtub up with chilly water, only to gasp that it was too hot.

 Joyce met Hopper's eyes, "I've been giving it what it wants."

 One swallowed, it was only obvious what they needed to do, how they'd get the Mind Flayer out of the boy's head... She voiced their next steps before Joyce could force herself to, "You have to burn it out of him."

 Mike stepped in, his mind fleeting back to Will in the Byers' rickety shed, the way he'd been able to decipher his location just by the mere ringing of the telephone, "It has to be somewhere he doesn't know."

 One, with tired eyes that threatened to shut and send her off into a light nap, stared on as they conspired. Hopper seemed to know of a place, and he swiftly fell back into that role of leader, designating roles and places in which everybody would go.

 She slumped further into the couch, her hand slowly rising to rest atop her eyes. The lightbulb swaying in the centre of the room was garish and tinted yellow, burning at her iris'.

 But then a shadow fell over her. Her eyes cracked open, mere slits that she could hardly see through, and yet there was no mistaking that head of hair.

 Steve Harrington had cringed the moment One had snapped from her internal battle with the Mind Flayer, only to collide with the ground. He'd half expected her skull to break off into little shards littering the floor. He'd hastily manoeuvred to the freezer, holding his breath at the odd smell that permeated it.

 His fingers had grabbed at a bag of frozen peas, a breath blown from between his pouted lips at the chill sent down his spine. Then, he'd rifled through drawers for Tylenol before hastily filling a glass with fresh water.

 One stared up, blinking silently as he held them out, an odd sort of smile on his face. Awkward, for sure. His mouth parted into an O as One rose her hand, palm awaiting. He popped a tablet into her hand, watching silently as she tossed it into her blood-stained mouth.

 She took the water from him, grateful for the coolness that soothed her aching throat.

 Steve took it from her without complaint and then he just... Stood there with the peas in his hand. The bag was clearly open, for a few little green balls bounced to the floor and rolled along like marbles.

 She rose a brow. It was quite amusing to watch him struggle to place himself, struggle to figure out what he'd say. She was a stranger, and his first impression was certainly an odd one. She'd arrived, killed a Demo-dog that landed at his feet, and then she'd swiftly moved on to delving inot a child's mind.

 Still, he tried.

 Steve, however, was merely trying to figure out how to get the peas to that spot on the very back of her head. He glanced over his shoulder, very much aware of the coy smile dusting Henderson's lips. He ignored it, looking to the Chief. Hopper would absolutely have the means to fake a tragic accident for the former King of Hawkins High, should he disturb the super-powered — pretty — teenager on the couch.

 He bent at the knees, a hand ever so slowly drifting to her neck. He glanced up only to find her watching him — he could feel Eleven's stare too. When she didn't move away nor voice her protest, he careful rose her head and slid the peas under; grinning to himself when she sighed in contentment.

 "You good?" He said.

 "I'm good, thank you." One replied, a small smile on her lips. Her dimples dug into her cheeks and she easily peered up at him, thankful for the shadow he drew over her, "Steve, isn't it?"

 He rubbed the back of his neck, "Uh yeah, how'd you know?"

 "El said..." She peered over his shoulder, "That Dustin said, that you have very impressive hair."

 "He said that?"

 One snorted, brows creasing upon the pain that flared where the peas rested. Steve taking the compliments of a child to heart, his eyes lighting up whilst his whole body perked was certainly a sight.

 Eleven was the one to affirm, a sage-like nod accompanying her tone, "He said it's tall."

 "It's — it's tall? He said that it's tall?" Steve patted his hair. It was already a mess from fighting Demo-dogs in a junkyard and keeping a bunch of snot-nosed brats as safe as he could. Still, the cluster of brunet did stretch quite high off his head, "I mean, I guess."

 Silence ensued, and Steve only felt himself grow quite uncomfortable as the super-powered siblings watched with wry smiles.

 He swiped his hands down the legs of his jeans, clearing away imaginary specks of dust all while clearing his throat, "Well, good to meet you..." he smiled at Eleven and One had been certain his hand had moved to ruffle her hair before he'd thought the better of it, "You too, El. Heard a lot about you."

 "Really?"

 "Duh, those morons don't shut up about you."

 It had taken quite some time to convince Eleven that One had to stay behind; the girl had stomped her foot, shook her head until a curl or three had burst free from the gel, and folded her arms over her chest like a toddler throwing a tantrum.

 She just wanted her sister by her side, and nobody could blame her for that.

 But One still lounged on the couch, her head throbbing as though a hammer was repeatedly smacking against it. The ringing in her ears hadn't ceased either. One had managed to toss her feet over the edge of the couch and sit up straight, wincing as old blood toppled from her nose.

 Maxine had been quick to supply her with a damp towel to dab it away while Dustin stood at the ready with the bottle of Tylenol in his hands, brandishing the tub like a sword. Lucas fiddled with his slingshot, in somewhat of a huff that he and his friends couldn't join El on her quest; they were a team, a party after all.

 The Chief had given his orders; Joyce, Jonathan and Nancy would take Will and find their way to Hopper's cabin in the middle of the woods. It was secluded, dark and in the middle of nowhere; Will — the Mind Flayer — wouldn't recognise it at all.

 They had stacked the Byers' car with old heaters they'd found, as well as a half-emptied bag of coal for the fire. They'd have to make that cabin feel as though it'd set alight and spread a wildfire. It was the only way.

 Hopper and El would make their way to the lab alone. One would have gone, she would have forced herself to stand and make her way to the Chief's vehicle, only to slam the door in his face if he'd protested. But then she'd thought about slowing them down; she'd put them both in danger.

 So, ultimately, One had pulled Eleven aside and made sure that her dear little sister knew she could do it. She had wrapped her arms around Eleven's waist, hands bunching up the jacket draped over her body and hanging over her like a sheet, whispering into her ear, "I know you can do this."

 Now One, Steve and the smattering of children were sat alone in the Byers' home, feet tapping at the ground, nails being chewed to hell and back, and huffs slipping from their impatient lips. They all wanted to help... Well, Steve just wanted to keep the brats safe...

 For some strange reason — one that likely boiled down to Hopper having seen Steve in the station with a bruised eye one time prior — One had been placed in charge. Hopper had bellowed out his instructions before pointing a stern finger in the children's faces, "She's in charge. You listen to her." He'd said, ignoring the disgruntled look on Steve's face when Hops finger pointed at him.

 To be completely honest, One knew hopper only left her in charge because she'd already kept Eleven safe and displayed the use of her powers in a way that proved beneficial to them all. It was only a small sliver of trust between the two of them, but it was something.

 Mike looked utterly put out as he slouched on the ground, bitten nails picking at his shoelaces.

 He'd seen Eleven off with tears in his eyes, practically begging for her to return this time. To come back to him; it'd been sweet, really.

 "She'll be alright." One called out, and all eyes fell to her as she kept her focus on Mike. He was an odd boy, but then... all of the kids were.

 His gaunt cheeks flushed a bright pink and his long black hair fell into his eyes. Deft fingers moved the strands away, "How do you know that."

 He sounded sceptical, almost angry that she — new girl 2.0 — was telling him about Eleven, as though he wasn't the one who knew her best. One had only rolled her eyes; he was a kid with bratty behaviour, it happened to them all.

 "She really has gotten stronger, Mike." One remained unfazed by his blank stare, "She trained with me and —" One paused, biting her tongue. No matter how much she missed the sister she'd left behind, it wasn't right to bring her up, to say her name in the town that had ruined her childhood. Just because One had returned, didn't mean the memory of Kali should, "We trained. She took some advice and has a better grasp of her powers... She moved a train."

 His eyes widened. They had seen her flip some shoddy white van that had tailed them, trapped the kids whilst they cycled the length of the dreary little town, "A train?"

 "Mhm. Found us with just a picture, too." One picked at her fingers. Dried blood had been clinging to her nails, seeping into her cuticles. She wanted to tease him relentlessly, just as she'd done with Eleven... But for now, she kept her coy grin hidden away.

 Mike watched her with those beady little eyes of his. She sat there as though everyone around her wasn't strangers she'd just met, as though she hadn't just clashed with the Mind Flayer within Will's mind. The bag of frozen peas had thawed, and so Steve had chucked them back in the freezer while little green balls trailed over the floor.

 Mike knew her head was still in pain, for with every noise she blinked harshly, willing the throbbing to vanish. She'd done that for Will; she had put herself in the firing line, stepping up to the Mind Flayer just because Will was a kid that Eleven knew... and Eleven didn't even know him at all.

 He broke the silence, glaring at Max as she swung her legs back and forth atop the couch, beside One. Her shoes bumped and thudded with each swing, "So... You grew up there too? Did you know Eleven?"

 One, much like a deer caught in the headlights, whipped her eyes to meet Mike's. Only genuine curiosity lay within them, no malice, no judgement. The others peered at her too, "As I said... I thought I was the only one."

 "How'd you... You know —" Steve swallowed his words, yet One answered anyway.

 "— Get out?" It might not have been a pleasant memory to recall, yet even to this day, One couldn't help the swell of pride that blossomed within her chest. She'd gotten out. There was a hint of smugness there too, and it shined so brightly beneath the Byers' yellowing lamp, "I tricked them."

 Beside her, Max almost gleamed. Her fiery hair spun in every direction as she bounced forwards, hands gripping her knees, "How?"

 "I made them think I was getting weaker; slipping. They did tests a few times a week; they'd strap a device to my head and measure what was going on up here," One wrapped her knuckles against her temple while the kids, and Steve, listened intently. Dustin had inched forwards, and Lucas had put his slingshot to the side, "They tested my powers, and each time I gave them less and less of a show... They lowered their guard."

 Unbeknownst to One, her voice had taken an edge that none of her companions had yet heard. She'd always spoken with a honeyed lilt to her tone, as though a mound of sugar poured from her words. She always sounded somewhat mirthful. Those last four words she'd spoken were dark, a hollow sound that crawled from the very back of her throat. Mike's eyes had widened a fraction.

 She continued anyway, eyes stooping to her hands once more, trailing the path her scars laid out, "One day, after my tests, they left me alone in the room. Just one guard standing outside. You've seen what I can do already, the state of that —" she nodded her head towards the Demo-dog she'd mutilated, "One guard was easy enough... more came, of course, and more tried to capture me. But in the end, I tore off those gates and made a break for it. I've never looked back."

 One laughed lightly, but it sounded tired as she gestured around her, "Until now."

 Dustin had plonked himself beside Mike at this point, fingers toying with the brim of his hat that he'd scooped from his head. Stood beside him was Steve, and it was him that spoke into the silence that ensued, "I heard about that."

 "What?"

 "The uh — the gates being blown off at the lab. It was on the news years ago; they covered it up by saying their wiring was faulty, that the electricity operating the gates blew or some shit..." He ran a hand through his hair, "That was you?"

 She hummed. Of course the Laboratory had found some way to lie about it, to cover it up as though they were merely sweeping dust beneath a rug. And of course, the dingy little town of Hawkins had believed them. They always did.

 One shouldn't have expected anything less, really. It'd happened time and time again. There would be tests she'd done as a child, willing crimson to ball within her spotless hands before she'd burst a hole through the wall. It hadn't been what she'd been instructed to do, but she knew they wanted a display of power. She had given them what they wanted, and all she had to show for it was three weeks of isolation in a cold and dark cell.

 How they'd explained away a gigantic hole in their building was beyond her.

 "Anyway," One slapped her hands against her thighs, face suddenly brightening to an extent that Steve and the kids could have gotten whiplash. She staggered to her feet, standing barely taller than Max who'd shot up to grab ahold of her arm, watching warily as One wobbled. One made no move to stop the girl, she only nodded towards the obsidian patch of blood on the rug, and the monster it had spilled from, "We should get rid of those."

 "Uh no?" said Steve, hands on his hips like an affirming mother, "You should be resting, or did you forget that you did a whole woo-woo magic battle with the frickin' Mind Flayer?"

 "Woo-woo magic battle? I'm —" One snorted as she shook her head to and fro, raven locks spilling from the bun Eleven had wrangled atop her head, "— I'm just fine, Steve. Sure, my head might be a little fuzzy —"

 "— A little fuzzy? You almost went through the Byers' floor!"

 "Now you're being dramatic."

 "I'm being dramatic?"

 Dustin rose a hand as though he were still in class, "You are being a little dramatic, dude."

 Steve looked about ready to hop into his car and head home. His cheeks had become a blistering red as he scowled at Dustin who, in turn, grinned with that shining smile of his. Mike snorted from beside him, finally easing up.

 "Fine!" Steve crowed, his arms flailing somewhat wildly as he made a sweeping gesture for One, "Go ahead and take the Demogorgons —"

 "Demo-dogs —"

 "Henderson, I swear to God."

 "I'm just saying."

 Steve's laugh was hollow, "Don't."

 One, along with the other children, had been watching the two as though a small ping-pong ball had been dancing between them. Dustin, for as little as he was, really did get Steve riled up. The teenager had pink cheeks, his hair sticking up in all directions while his hands were firmly planted on his hips once more.

 He rose a brow at One upon catching her amused smile.

 "As fun as that was," One chirped with the remnants of a laugh sliding from her tongue. She finally tore away from Max — though not without sending the girl a fleeting, thankful look — and made her way to the monsters that were silently bleeding out upon the rug, "We really should do something with these. I doubt Will would like to come home from..." She winced, her hands waving in the air, "All of that, just to see these ugly things in his home."

 At the mention of little William Byers; the boy who'd persevered through so much, Steve finally conceded. He groaned, shoulders slumping as he almost stomped his way over, kneeling beside One.

 The beasts were vile; all slick with mucus that had turned a deep and dirty shade of brown thanks to the obsidian blood spewing from its wounds. The mouths of the monsters were limp, each bizarre flower petal slumping to the ground, revealing the teeth.

 "What do we do with them? Can you like..." Steve blinked, "Make 'em disappear or something?"

 One trailed her eyes over the things, well aware of the children that had swiftly gathered behind them, watching like spectators. Of couse, when she twisted to glance at them all; it was easy to see the glint within Dustin's eyes... But also Max's.

 "I can't make things just... Vanish, no... But," One wobbled to her feet once more, her eyes upon the children, "Are there any matches? Some gas or something?"

 Max beamed, "You're blowing them up?"

 "Burning them." One hastily corrected.

 The mere thought of causing an explosion within the Byers' home with a multitude of children present didn't quite seem like the best of ideas, and from the look upon Steve's face, he didn't even like the idea of roasting them. But he said nothing, and so Dustin sprinted to the kitchen for the box of matches, and Mike gathered up anything strong smelling that resided beneath the kitchen sink.

 Within a beat, One allowed the energy within her body to flow free; it was a task to even gather enough to carry the damned things, thanks to the assault she'd made upon the Byer's floor. Still, crawling wisps of stuttering crimson alighted her fingertips and slowly reached out towards the monsters.

 Steve backed away — he and the kids watching onwards with eager eyes.

 When the Demo-dogs had been transported well away from the Byer's home, One let her grip falter and the monsters went tumbling to the ground. A gross squelching sound echoed through the night.

 In Mike's arms was a plethora of bottles and cans, all sloshing as he stepped closer to the beats. He waited silently, heaving the items into a better grip whilst One plucked them from him, one by one.

 She muttered to herself, reading the list of blurred ingredients until finally, she found an old bottle with a glaring warning sign; KEEP AWAY FROM FIRE.

 One held it up, waving it as the liquid inside sloshed about, "I think this one will do."

 And so the bottle was opened, the cap abandoned on the ground as One sprinkled the monsters with the flammable liquid. The grass was still glossed over with a smattering of dew drops that had gathered within the cool air, seeking solace upon the blades.

 At least she wouldn't be starting a wildfire.

 "Okay..." The last droplet escaped the bottle and One held a hand out behind her. Steve had plucked the box of matches from Dustin all while muttering something along the lines of the boy being likely to set his hair alight, just for fun. She waited. And waited another beat, "Steve. Matches."

 Steve ran his tongue over his teeth, and then, in a slight huff his hand dove into the front pocket of his jeans, pulling the matches from within. He slapped them into her awaiting palm, "I don't like this."

 "What's your idea of getting rid of them, then?"

 He stayed silent at that, arms folding across his chest.

 One kneeled closer to the ground, knees dusting the swaying blades of grass that tickled at the denim protecting her from the cold. She could already feel water seeping through. The trail of liquid she'd made began at her feet, racing through the grass towards the pile of mutilated monsters. One swipe of the match and they had burst into flames.

 Each member of the group finally allowed themselves to relax as the heat from the fire caressed their skin. It bathed them all within an amber glow, flickering across their cheeks as they all stared onwards.

 Dustin, of course, broke the silence, "So..." He dragged out, slinking to One's side. His eyes were distinctly focused upon her hands fidgeting by her side. They never seemed to stop moving. He grinned, "You're like the Scarlet Witch, huh?"

 "The who now?" One cocked her head, flames illuminating her dark eyes as she smiled down at him, even despite her confusion.

 "Yeah!" Maxine exclaimed, as she too, bounded up to One. Her red hair curtained around her, eerily akin to the flames still roaring atop the Demo-dogs, "The Scarlet Witch is this awesome superhero that was kidnapped and used as a genetic experiment, she has powers just like yours."

 Lucas nodded, joining Max's side, his slingshot handing from his pocket, "She can get into people's heads, move things with her mind and create illusions."

 One considered this; the way the children gleamed at her, even sour little Mike Wheeler had a certain spark in his eyes. She rose a hand, twirling it within the air like some peppy little baton. A glimmer of red trailed over her palm, "I'm not so sure about creating illusions —"

 "— Yet." Dustin interrupted.

 "But... She sounds... cool. You'll have to show me who she is."

 "Seriously?" A multitude of the children cheered at once; making it hard for One, and Steve, to know who exactly had spoken. They all suddenly stared at her as though she was a superhero herself, costume and all... Every time any of them had ever uttered a word about the heroes and villains of their comics and campaigns, teens and adults always shut them down.

 They nod their heads with no enthusiasm. They'd hum and pretend they were listening, all the while their eyes stayed trained on the boring crossword in the newspaper. They never got the time of day from them, any real understanding of their love for the heroes they'd read about.

 But now they had a real one standing right before their eyes. Someone who didn't know them yet was more than willing to use her power to help them. That was a hero.

 "Please don't encourage them," Steve muttered with his hands stuffed into his pockets. His jacket had been shed inside the house, leaving him in a polo shirt; arms erupting in goosebumps. The wind rustled his hair, and every few moments his hands would scramble to toss it aside.

 One rolled her shoulders, eyes trained on the small embers that fizzled from where the flickering flames had once been. What had started as a cluster of slimy limbs and broken monster bones was now nothing but a pile of ash.

 The last ember died, and One pivoted, moving towards the house, walking alongside Steve, "You don't like superheroes?"

 "Not particularly. They don't exist."

 "But villains do?"

 "Sure but that's different —"

 "Mhm... I beg to differ. A hero saves people, right?"

 "Yeah, I guess..."

 "So in retrospect," One shrugged her shoulders, smiling to herself, "Aren't all of you heroes? El told me about what happened last year; you all helped in some way to save Will, and now here you are again."

 Back inside the Byer's home, the windows had finally been slammed shut — discounting the one Eleven had managed to shatter completely, of course. The kids had managed to expend some of their energy with their relentless questions;

 How old are you? They had asked.

 How long were you in the lab?

 Where did you go after?

 She hadn't been able to answer them properly. Birthdays really weren't celebrated within the lab; after all, she hadn't been seen as a person, but as a weapon. The years had passed by at a snail's pace, each day as gruelling and slow as the last. As for that final question... She'd skirted around the in-betweens; wishing she could forget everything that had happened before she and Kali had found their band of fools.

 Steve had taken to leaning against the kitchen table, watching as One picked at a small dent within the wooden chair she'd slumped within. There was blood beneath her nose again, thanks to the small use of her powers just those ten minutes prior, and though she'd made no move to clear it away, Steve had dampened an old cloth and tossed it in her direction.

 She scrubbed at the blood, but even Steve thought her top lip would be a permanent shade of pink thanks to the multitude of metallic droplets that had erupted from her nose.

 He couldn't quite fathom her answers; she seemed so open around them all — smiling and laughing at the stupid jokes the brats would make, easily motivating herself to push through whatever pain she was still in to help them. But there was a wall when it came to actually knowing her, and not just seeing her.

 She'd frozen up when the lab had been brought up, and though Steve and the kids knew of the things that had happened within those taunting white walls... they'd never really know the extent, nor the scars it'd left behind.

 He scratched the back of his neck, "You really don't know how old you are?"

 One flicked her eyes to his own; she'd expected someone to mock her, to judge her, really. But all that stared back was his own shade of warm brown; nothing but curiosity, if not a bit of concern, "We didn't have birthdays. I have no idea what day or year I had even been born."

 "That place is a real shit hole."

 His bluntness made her smile, even despite the topic and Steve couldn't help but mirror her reaction. He could still see that remaining sadness, even anger, behind her eyes; it glimmered like silver beneath the lamplight, a sharp knife's edge glinting.

 Steve knew how to hide emotions, how to bury them so deep that nobody else could tell just how much you were hurting. His father was a grade-A asshole; people saw him as a successful businessman with a beautiful and doting wife and a son who would go on to do great things...

 But that just wasn't the case.

 Steve Harrington's father was not a patient man. He would grow angry with the slightest of backtalk, his cheeks glowing a furious red while the tips of his ears blistered. His mouth would part like waves on the sea, only for harsh words to be thrown at not only his son but his wife too.

 Mr Harrington had let success ruin his life. He had let the mutterings and gossip of others rule his actions. He wanted people to see him as a saint, but behind closed doors, he couldn't have been further from a holy man.

 It's not like Steve's mother was leaps and bounds better; she might not have cursed at him, she might not have yelled and berated him... but she acted as though he didn't exist. Breakfast would be left on the kitchen counter, and she'd disappear from sight. Dinner would be cooked in silence, served to the table without a peep, and then the family of three would chew and swallow while even their steak knives would struggle to cut the tension.

 There had been rumours too. Steve despised them when he'd hear people whispering.

 Did you hear? Mr Harrington was seen with another woman! One young enough to be friends with his son!

 He hated them. But he couldn't deny them.

 His mother lives in blissful ignorance throughout the day, only to scream her throat raw at night.

 Nobody knew of the truth regarding Steve's family, and he liked keeping it that way. It was easier to hear people call him a douche-bag jock than it was to hear about his father's infidelities or stomach the thought that someone knew of the words and... other things his father directed at him.

 Blissful ignorance. It was the Hawkins way.

 One was growing quite antsy. Her fingers jittered with every passing second as though they were simply begging for the use of her power; it had always been that way. The only thing that had ever been with her since birth, the only thing that had ever truly protected her... were those crimson wisps.

 It only stood to reason that she sought comfort within them.

 Mike had taken to pacing, his thumb caught between his lips while his teeth gnawed on the nail. He'd splutter every now and then, a chip of his nail tumbling to the ground, but he was far too busy to care.

 His footsteps echoed, and with each one Lucas rolled his eyes, hands hard at work as he tried to clear up the glass that had showered upon the floor like a downpour of sopping rain, "Mike, would you stop already?"

 Mike's head whipped to his friend, regarding him with a mean glower, "You weren't in there Lucas. That lab is swarming with hundreds of those dogs."

 One cocked her head to the side, waiting for what she knew would come. Then it came; Dustin called out to correct his friend, "Demo-dogs!" He was promptly, and expectantly, ignored.

 Lucas sighed, letting his hands rest for a moment. He could just about catch his own reflection within the shards of glass; fatigue, yet still the determination to save Will remained. He nodded to himself, Hopper was with Eleven, he'd never let her get hurt, "The Chief will take care of her."

 One couldn't find even a sliver of doubt to counteract the boy's words; Hopper had stuck his furrowed brows and fatherly glare on her the moment her dirtied shoes had stepped across the threshold, tracking mud within.

 Max huffed, arms strapped across her chest as she peered to the side. It was obvious that she was still somewhat... off-put by Eleven's cold introduction, "Like she needs protection."

 Steve sauntered up to the boy, and though he'd almost planted a hand on Wheeler's shoulder, he thought against it. The boy before him was more bitter than Tommy H had been after one of his exes hadn't put out, "Listen, dude, a coach calls a play in a game, bottom line, you execute it. All right?"

 One, from her slumped position on the couch, frowned heartily. She couldn't exactly say that she knew much about sports, but what little she did know, was enough to conclude that they were not playing a game. No ball being tossed into a net, no puck swiped against the ice... Just monsters and children.

 Mike, evidently, agreed. Anger swarmed him once more like a cluster of angry wasps. It billowed from his gut to his flustered cheeks and ears. He looked about ready to explode, or as though steam would seep from him, "This isn't some stupid sports game! We're not even in the game... We're on the bench."

 Steve began to stammer, his tongue becoming knotted as he fumbled for any attempts to make Nancy's eerily angsty brother calm himself, "Right. So my point is..." An odd sort of gurgle came from him before he gave up entirely, "Yeah, yeah.... We're on the bench. So there's uh — there's nothing we can do."

 "That's not entirely true." Dustin interrupted.

 One's feet carried her closer, shoe laces slapping against the ground. She'd tie them later. For now, she stopped before the boys as they gathered in a small circle, Max watching from afar, "What do you mean?"

 "Well, the Demo-dogs have a hive mind. When we fought them in the junkyard they ran away, they were called away."

 Lucas, who had been leaning the entirety of his weight on the old and splintered broom he'd found, slowly nodded his head, catching on, "If we get their attention..."

 "... Maybe we can draw them away from the lab." Max continued, bounding closer. Her wild hair trailed behind her, and with great ease — and a small pang of seclusion — she ignored the sideways look mike had graciously offered her.

 Mike, smoothed his face over, not quite relishing in the light nudge to his side from One who had easily seen the sneer he'd given Max for simply continuing Lucas' train of thought. He cleared his throat, "We can clear a path to the gate."

 One had to commend them all; it was a solid plan. There might have been the odd snag... such as getting caught by the very Demo-dogs they wished to intercept, as well as being trapped beneath the ground... But all in all... It would help Eleven. That was what mattered most to One, and keeping the other kids safe, obviously.

 Steve's eyes had narrowed with every word uttered from their lips. His mind whirred; how the hell was he supposed to protect a bunch of snot-nosed brats against a herd of flesh-eating dogs? Yeah, sure, he might have done it back at the junkyard; but a handful of monsters that decidedly ran away was a much different story to willingly prancing towards a whole herd of them.

 His eyes fell to his trusty bat. There were splinters here and there, chunks missing thanks to the rock-hard bodies of those ugly little beasts. The nails were beginning to bend and they were still clotted with blood and Demo-dog flesh... It wouldn't be enough to take them on.

 "Yeah!" Steve smiled, though his eyes were incredibly stoic and his voice lacked all amusement, "And then we all die."

 Dustin, as ever, piped up and the duo began arguing back and forth, voices falling to a whisper while arms and hands darted here and there to accentuate their points. It was an easy decision for One; they'd go, and if the Demo-dogs decided to pounce their way, she'd light up the underground until nothing but corpses and whisps of crimson was left in her wake. Simple.

 "I've got it!" A gasp tumbled from Mike's lips as he rushed forth, sliding on his knees as his pale finger jabbed at one of the pictures Will had drawn. While the others quickly crowded around, craning their necks to look at the hastily compiled drawing, Mike began to explain. However, his words were directed at One; not his friends, not Max, and certainly not Steve. They shared the very same trait — to protect Eleven at any cost.

 "This is where the chief dug his hole. This is our way into the tunnel. So..." He led the group over to a cluster of scribbled drawings splayed across the wooden floor. "Here, right here. This is like a hub."

 "A hub?" One muttered to herself, "So everything connects here; all of the tunnels?"

 "Exactly. So maybe, if we were to set it on fire..."

 Steve scoffed at the two of them, his head twisting to glare first at Mike, then to move his disbelieving glower at One. He couldn't quite comprehend that she of all people would have wanted to just... commit arson on the earth. Then again, maybe it should have been expected after watching her toss a Demo-dog through the window, only to light two of them on fire an hour or so later.

 "That's a no." His pointed finger jabbed at Mike's shoulder.

 One almost faltered; behind that irritated glare, the fatigue of a hard-working, stand-in mother, Steve genuinely looked worried. He'd promised to take care of them all, only for the kids to run head-first into a tunnel full of monsters all while armed with gasoline and a Zippo lighter.

 But then she thought of Eleven; the Eleven that sobbed when she had to leave, the girl who would sacrifice it all to save the friends that had made such an effort to save her. Her sister.

"Let him finish." One finally mumbled, gesturing for Mike to finish his idea.

 It wasn't like the children were dumb, nor were they completely reckless. They might have had a habit of walking into trouble, but they always figured out some sort of plan. Steve could only gape at his fellow teenager, watching as she nodded once more at Mike, her raven hair bobbing at her shoulders.

 He couldn't get a day off.

 Dustin clapped his hands together, crouching close to the ground. He pointed at the hub, "The Mind Flayer would call away his army..." He looked to Lucas, and without a beat, Lucas continued onwards.

 "They'd all come to stop us."

 Max snapped her fingers, "Then we just have to circle back to the exit."

 One followed their thoughts with utter ease, "So by the time they realise that we're gone..." Her face was overtaken by a wide smile, dimples digging into her rotund cheeks, "El would already be at the gate."

 It was, in reality, the best and only plan they could devise. It was easy enough; they'd find their way to the hub, being sure to jot down a smaller and easier-to-follow copy of Will's extravagant map... Then they'd cover the place in gasoline, toss the Zippo and head back out. The hub would be ablaze and the Mind Flayer would send his army of Demo-dogs to devour them all... Hopefully, they too would get caught in the blaze, or One, Steve and the kids would at least be out before they could even reach them.

 There was a small snag. Their timing.

 If they managed to light the place up and watch as the wriggling vines screamed... If Eleven began her assault on the rippling gate just moments after, the Demo-dogs would rush back. They'd surely abandon the hub and scramble for the gate, after all, it was their connection to the real world.

 But it was all they had, and they had to try.

 Steve clapped his hands, a harsh sound that made Dustin recoil and made Max glare with such heat that One thought Steve himself would erupt in flames. He continued nonetheless, leaving behind a smattering of raw skin upon his palms.

 "Hey! Hey! Hey! This is not happening." His hands found his hips once more and the small blue cloth he'd formerly offered up to One was dangling over his shoulder, swaying as he let his weight fall upon his left leg, "It's not happening."

 One rose to her feet, eyes remaining on Steve as he continued to point at each of them. He started with Dustin who merely rose a thick brow; more than used to Steve's mothering. Lucas who almost slunk backwards, Maxine who scoffed and rolled her eyes skywards, Mike whose brows curled together... and Finally, One.

 His hands curled around the towel, hardly caring about the small smear of blood, nor the dirt that had somehow accumulated from its time wasting away beneath the Byers' kitchen sink, "I promised to keep these little shitheads safe. That is exactly what I'm doing. We're staying here, on the bench."

 One could feel that switch teetering upon its axis. She looked so calm, so meek all the time, even with the leather draped over her arms and the tattered jeans on her legs... Her face round and unassuming, her long eyelashes akin to that of a doll, the short stature and the dimples that poked into her skin had people believing that she was nothing but an innocent girl. Somebody who couldn't cause even a lick of harm.

 But that switch was so very fragile. It rocked like a boat on thunderous waves, as though a storm threatened to knock beneath the billowing tide. Beneath it all, she was angry. She was frightened of what would happen to Eleven... and that fear only made her defensive, angrier.

 So when she looked up at Steve, finally straightening her knees as she rose higher, still only in line with his shoulders; Steve Harrington couldn't help but swallow his nerves.

 Her eyes had transitioned from a deep cup of warming black tea, to nothing more than bitter coffee that would clog the throat and cause you to choke. Her lips tugged downwards, brows following in suit, "You can stay on the bench all you want, Steve. But my sister is in danger and I —" She threw a hand towards the kids, unaware of the sparkle in Mike's eye, nor the smug look on Maxine's face, "— We can help her. I'm going, and these kids are coming with me. I can keep them safe."

 Steve knew he should have known better than to come between this superpowered stranger and the sister she'd somehow formed an unshakable bond with... But he'd promised to keep the little idiots safe. So rather than back down, he crossed his arms and scoffed, "You're kidding, right? Please tell me you're joking!"

 "If we can make it easier for her, why wouldn't we?"

 Steve blinked, craning his head closer, almost peering down his nose, "Because they are children!"

 "So is she!" All sweet slivers of honey had scuttled from her voice, "I'm not letting her do this alone, not again! So, Harrington," She leaned closer, her fingers darting out to curl around his wrist that had been waving that stupid little towel about, almost smacking her face, "Either get ready to swing, or stay on the damn bench."

 The kids had to restrain the chortles that threatened to burst free; Steve looked positively startled. His eyes had trained on her hand, blinking wildly as she held it steady. The tension could have been cut with a knife, and Max couldn't help but think of her family dinners; they acted like an old married couple — a mom and dad arguing over custody.

 But while the children really did understand what Steve was doing, while they appreciated that he was so damn adamant about keeping them safe; they couldn't just sit around whilst Eleven saved their asses again. They could help, and so they would; even if it meant leaving Steve behind to mope on the Byers' front porch, alone.

 Steve's mouth was agape, pouted lips stammering for what seemed like hours to them all, especially Steve himself. What could he say? What could he do? The girl standing in front of him, looking as though she'd happily fist-fight the Chief of police himself had superpowers. He could shake his head, fling his towel and click his fingers, yet all it would take was a simple flick of her wrist and he'd be resigned to fall to the ground.

 He yanked his wrist free, hands immediately running through his hair in utter frustration. He was ready to retort again, spinning on his heels... yet no words came. Instead a sour sigh, "You can promise me they'll be safe?"

 There was no hesitation when it came to One's answer. Her head jutted in resolution, "I can." She knew the kids behind her were smart, they wouldn't seek out the monsters they were tailing. They had a clear plan, and she knew they'd all stick to it... hell, if they didn't, how would they retort against her? "I promise."

 "Alright fine. Fine! We'll —" But the rest of Steve's sentence was lost within the sound of a rumbling engine. Gravel groaned beneath heavy rubber tyres, and a beam of light shot through the sorry excuse of a window.

 Max was the first to move, sprinting towards the couch as her wide eyes peered out. Her heart stuttered in her chest, seizing almost painfully as she whispered beneath her breath, "Billy." 

 Her breathing grew frantic, fingers curling into the material of the couch she'd hopped upon, "It's my brother. He can't know I'm here. He'll kill me." She whipped around to face them, eyes glinting with fear, "He'll kill us."

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21-12-2019

edited version: 19-06-2022

NAH THIS IS OVER 11,000 WORDS? EYE- I EVEN HAD TO SPLIT THIS CHAPTER. THE PREVIOUS VERSION INCLUDED BILLY'S ARRIVAL AND EVERYTHING. someone stop me. send help. how is this 11k?!

might be a longer wait for the next chap, loves; i've just let a staff member go and i have to cover all of those shifts. I'll get it out as soon as poss, but until then, pray for me <3

i hope you all enjoyed this chapter! please remember to vote and comment, let me know what you think as i do require a certain amount of comments before i post another chapter!!