Chapter Text
Chapter 1
the beginning of the end
March 29th, 1986
The first thing that struck Mike Wheeler upon getting back to Hawkins was the amount of cars out-right bolting out of there. The second was the fact that the atmosphere was red for some reason.
"I've been gone for a week!" he commented. "What happened here?"
"And that smoke," continued Mrs Byers, "It seems to be rising from the ground…?"
Will was still hugging El —it seemed like the two hadn't moved an inch since she had gotten into the van— when he spoke up, "Whatever it is, it's not good. Back in California, he had gone away. But, now… I can feel him again. He's dormant, but there."
Jonathan turned around, eyes like plates, and Mike registered his raised eyebrows. Again? he appeared to be saying, And you didn't say anything?
"I'm sorry," Argyle said from the driver's seat, "Did you just said you can 'feel' 'him'? Who's him, brother?"
Mike distantly noticed Jonathan from the passenger seat put a hand on his puzzled best friend's shoulder, promising to explain later. That was his cue to zone out.
I love you.
He had said it. He could say it.
"There's a family curse," Mike remembered Nancy telling him once —many, many years ago,"You know how Pinocchio can't lie without his nose growing?"
"Yeah…?"
"We can't say 'I love you' unless we actually mean it."
"Bullshit."
"Don't shoot the messenger! Have you ever seen mom and dad say that to each other?"
It made sense; his parents had never once uttered those three words to each other — though Mike swore he had heard his mother say it to some other guy once.
Did that mean he loved Eleven? She hadn't even spared a glance to him since piggybacking Max, and, being honest, he hadn't either. In Mike's mind, it made no sense: Wasn't that what she wanted? For him to say he loved her, regardless of its genuineness?
Deep down, he knew. She didn't care for whatever he had to say, if they were nothing more than lies. But, were they?
He had spent too many years of his life devoting his time to El that facing the idea of her leaving him was unbearable. There was some sort of paradoxical safety in lying, in hiding the truth. If he said he loved her enough times, then he did. Maybe, one day, it would even become an undeniable truth.
But it's not, said a traitorous voice inside his head. It's a lie, no matter how many times you refuse it.
Did he want to live a lie? He had to, the alternative was worse. Losing Eleven was like losing a part of himself, tainting every memory of life—
A gentle 'Mike' interrupted his inner crisis and he turned to look at the owner of the voice, Will, "You okay? You've been staring at the door for like five minutes, I was getting worried. I have to admit, we're all on edge today."
He shook his head, "Yeah, yeah. Fine." Avoiding his best friend's gaze, Mike looked out the window. He caught sight of a foreign sign that said 'Do not be overcome by evil but overcome evil with good', stuck to the church. Though he was uncertain of when it had been put up, passing that building brought him back to Sunday Mass with his mom, back when his biggest concern was sitting through boring sermons. Mike was not exactly religious but seeing such a familiar place among all the mess gave him a sense of… home —or vague familiarity. Damn, talk about going crazy.
He looked at the others again and said, "Have you tried the radio? To see what happened."
Jonathan clicked his tongue and turned it on. It gave a little whirring sound, but then settled as the transmission stabilized, "A 7.4 magnitude earthquake rocked the quaint town of Hawkins."
"An earthquake? Here?" asked Mrs Byers.
"… a natural disaster of near-unprecedented scale. The death toll now stands at 22."
"Shit!" exclaimed Will earning a soft, almost automatic 'Language…' from his already-stunned mother. "We have to check on the… others…" he trailed off as he got a glimpse of what remained of Hawkins.
The town was destroyed: vines spreading everywhere, Hawkins High School bustling with people, ranging from nurses with medical supplies to lost wanderers who stumbled around, confused. Mike spotted, among the crowd, a family with a crying child who sported a missing leg.
Although he tried, he could not pull his eyes away from them: the father was carrying bridal-style his son, who wailed and cried as he attempted to grab onto the air where his leg had once been. It seemed like his parents had tried to bandage it with some torn t-shirt but hadn't managed to do it properly, seeing as the white of the fabric was rapidly turning crimson.
"They live by the trailer park…" whispered Will.
"That's…" started Mike, "where Max is living. Shit!" This time, not even Mrs Byers could chastise him. "I have to check on everyone. My family!"
"… with hundreds more now filling Roane County hospitals and many more still missing, officials expect those numbers to rise."
Mrs Byers, ever the saint, put a hand on his shoulder as she shook her head, like trying to get rid of the image from before, "You will, Mike. But, for now, we need to get somewhere safe. Jane, love, put on your hood. I was thinking, could you tell us what happened with that… man back there?" She started tracing circles on her hand and Mike was struck with the realization that they seemed more like a family than his own ever had. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"
"This is only the latest tragedy to befall this once-safe town."
"Of course, mom."
"Same goes for all of you," she continued, looking at all of them in the eyes meaningfully. "I'm here."
"Yes, mom," both brothers replied in unison. Though they sounded tired —whether of their mother or of the whole situation—, they looked like they appreciated the gesture.
"Most recently, a string of high school students were killed—"
"Turn it up!" Mike exclaimed.
"—in a series of ritualistic murders, which have been linked to a local satanic cult, known as—"
"Hellfire," said Mike, at the same time as the radio presenter did, "Shit. We're fucked."
"Since when do you swear like that?" asked Jonathan, puzzled.
"Eddie Munson, the leader of this cult and prime suspect of these murders has gone missing since the earthquake—"
"No!"
"—and is now presumed dead."
Mike could distantly hear the radio presenter's formal voice go on but it was droned out by the ringing in his ears. Eddie. Dead. The same Eddie who was playing D&D with him until less than a week ago. The same one who had saved them, Dustin and him, from the fate of the weirdos.
The only thing that got Mike out of his trance was Will's hand on his shoulder, "You okay? Who's Eddie?"
A tear landed on his bare hand and he scrambled to wipe them. He hadn't even realized he had started crying, "No one— actually, someone. I think it's best if I tell you later."
He might have forgotten to tell Will about Hellfire, and he knew Will would burn him in Hell's fire for it; he had spent an entire summer trying to get them to play with him and all of a sudden they desired to do so when he was gone. His best friend would not love that, at all.
"… believes the two tragedies are linked, claiming the Munson murders opened a doorway between worlds. A doorway, they say, into Hell itself."
As they listened to the broadcast, they had gotten closer to the center of town. There, the picture was clearer: the town library was completely destroyed by a red rift on the ground. In reality, there were four rifts that divided the town in four parts, and they all met in the library.
Soldiers were redirecting traffic, so as to avoid the disaster, but it was endless. Even though they had put down a precarious bridge for cars to cross between the town sections, it was only a matter of time before one broke down and some innocent civilian fell into 'Hell itself'.
Jonathan, who had probably finished dealing with the effects of withdrawal after a week with his mother accompanying him, and whose mind was miles sharper than it had been the entire trip, spoke up, "So, we agree these are gates, right?"
"Yeah," chorused the rest of the van passengers.
"And whatever this Hellfire and Eddie Munson are, they are being used as scapegoats by the military," Jonathan continued.
"Absolutely," answered Mike.
"First thing we need to do is find the others."
"I have my walkie," mentioned Mike.
"Great, call them, tell them to go to the cabin," Jonathan kept going. "Jane, you and mom will live there from now on. I… I'm not sure if there's enough space for Will and I but we'll figure something out."
"You could live with me."
Mike heard Will and Jonathan take sharp breaths that almost sucked the air from the van, "I wouldn't want to…"
"We'll see later. I'd have to ask my mom but the offer is still open," He turned his walkie talkie on and tuned it to the right frequency. "Dustin? Lucas? Do you copy?"
"Mike!" said a voice —Dustin's— from the receiver, "You're here! We've been calling you guys like crazy! Will and El with you? Over."
"Yep! Jonathan and Mrs Byers, too. We were heading to Hopper's old cabin to fix it up. We need a place for El—"
"Jane," she corrected.
"Sorry, Jane to live in. Mrs Byers will stay with her. Jury's still out on where Jonathan and Will can stay, but I plan to ask my parents if they can go with us. So, meet at Hopper's cabin as soon as possible? Over."
"We're going. Lucas, Erica and Max are at the hospital. I'd say you go there first, he needs some cheering up. Over."
"To the hospital, then. You go to the cabin and be careful. They might be looking for us because of Hellfire. Over and out."
"Brochacho," said Argyle after a moment of silence, "Why would a mysterious they look for you?"
"Jonathan, direct Argyle to the hospital. We'll see Max and Lucas, and then head to the cabin."
"You will not answer me, man? Not cool, so not cool."
"Last I saw Max," started El — Jane, "Lucas was holding her and her heart stopped."
Mike was still getting used to calling her 'Jane'. It was not an easy task, and he had a tendency to forget it, but he was trying.
He could see Will's hand grip his sister's more firmly, "Jane, you never told us what happened with Henry."
"Will, I…" she sighed, "He took Max —or, Max hid inside the memory of the Snowball Dance. We fought, and we fought and we kept fighting, until Henry took us to his mind scape. It was…" she shuddered, "Awful."
Mrs Byers got closer to her and she continued, "There was something that made the air red. You could only see a house in ruins, and those same ruins floating around the sky. He had us trapped in vines, stuck to some pillars, and he made me watch as he…" a sob, "As he…"
She took a shuddered breath to compose herself and finished, "I managed to stop him but he had already began his plan. Some of her bones snapped and… her heart stopped."
"Stopped?" asked Will calmly, far too calmly for the story he was being witness to.
"It stopped but I didn't want to. So, I restarted it."
"What?!" everyone in the car shouted at the same time, astounded.
"No way…" mumbled Mike.
"Since when can you restart a heart?!" Jonathan asked, awe clear in his voice.
"Jane, what?" added Will, his jaw on the floor.
"Little super-powered friend, you are crazy," Argyle commented.
"Was it bad?" Jane inquired.
"Don't worry, honey. So, you restarted her heart, and then what? Nothing?"
"Lucas screamed for Erica to get help, and an ambulance came. The last thing I saw were some medics carrying her out."
"In short," said Mike, sarcastically, "Legally dead, God-like resurrection and hospital. Great."
Will looked up while biting his lip, as Jonathan kept muttering 'Oh, my God' over again. Mrs Byers was hugging her adopted daughter and running a hand through her hair, with a far-away look. Mike was still in shock, wondering when his girlfriend —was it even girlfriend anymore?— had gained such power.
"Hate to cut this short," interrupted Argyle, "But we're here."
The hospital was a mess of people, injured and non-injured alike. There was a missing wing, probably a result of the earthquake, and the whole right side entrance was utterly in shambles.
"You three go in," Mrs Byers said while pointing at Will, El and himself, "Jonathan, Argyle, stay here with me."
As they walked in, the bustling of the building was even more apparent. Thankfully, the wait was not too long to be completely unbearable, just nerve-inducing enough.
"Name?" the receptionist asked, exhaustion evident in her tone of voice and attitude.
"Mike Wheeler. We're here to see our friend Max Mayfield. We've been told she's in a coma."
"Oh," her eyes softened, not a good sign. "Room 101, Intensive Care. First floor in the elevator, to the right."
"Thank you, miss," answered Will, ever so polite, as they headed towards the room.
The second they got to Max's floor, Lucas' voice could be heard. Evidently, Dustin had told him they were visiting so he didn't shut the door. He seemed to be telling a story.
"He opened his eyes and further words died in his throat." The door was light enough, but they didn't come in; not yet, anyway. "He forgot about the need to sick up that horrible parody of wine. He forgot about his mother, and Uncle Morgan, and his father, and almost everything else! Speedy was gone. The graceful arcs of the roller coaster against the sky were gone."
There was a feeling of intruding in the idea of coming into the room. From the crack of the door, they could make out Max's red hair splashed in a white pillow, in a white bed, in a white room. Not like Max, at all. There was a fire that burned inside her that Mike was sure was the reason for the color of her hair. She was always so alive, so lively…
"He could feel the hair stirring on the nape of his neck, could feel a goofed-up grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. 'Speedy! I'm here, my God! I'm here in the territories…!'" Lucas' silence was their cue, lest they wanted to never see Max again, in the name of privacy. He looked up and Mike could see his eyes water. "You're here…"
Mike and Will hugged their best friend, ignoring the tears that started clinging to both of their shirts, "We're back," commented Will. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"
"God…" He separated himself and nearly ran to meet El. They crashed into a hug and no one could tell they'd used to not like each other, once upon a time.
"I'm sorry," El whispered in his ear.
They all turned to look at Max, "Her heart stopped," started Lucas. "For a minute. She died. I… I mean, clinically, but… then, she came back. The doctors don't know how. They say it's a miracle."
Mike and Will shared a look and he knew they were thinking the exact same thing. We have our miracle right here.
"She'll be in a medically-induced coma for a few days, until her situation isn't as dire. They say she'll wake up but will be… paralyzed."
"Holy shit…" said Mike.
"And they're not even sure if she'll ever see again; when I had her in my arms, she couldn't, and the doctors say…"
"It's not a good sign," guessed Will.
Lucas hummed defeatedly.
El walked up to her best friend, sat in the bed and closed her eyes, "Max? You there?"
The air was thick with anticipation, so much so that it was almost possible to hear a pin drop, "Max," continued El, "I'm here."
A beat.
Two beats.
"She's here."
Everyone breathed out a puff of air they'd been holding, "Thank God," said Lucas.
Silence, once again.
"Don't worry, Max. You'll be back with us soon. For now, rest," El opened her eyes, a single tear falling in her cheek. "I'd say we get going, we need to fix up a place to live. Lucas, you okay staying here? Don't you want to come with us?"
He smiled, "I'll stay with her, don't worry. Make sure you're safe."
"Make sure she is safe."
"Always."