✓ | 1. subject thirteen [STRANGER THINGS]

one.

CHAPTER ONE:
BENNY'S DINER

[ THE VANISHING OF WILL BYERS ]

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Twigs cracked like bones beneath their feet.

It was light out, but not light as in the sterile glow of overhead neon bulbs, but instead it was a yellow shimmer of sunlight that warmed THIRTEEN's cheeks. Trees surrounded them, towering metres and metres above their heads. High above, bare branches stretched out into the crisp, clean air, as if reaching into the pleasant cloudless, early morning sky with nimble fingers.

ELEVEN gripped tight onto the bottom of THIRTEEN's hospital gown. In the past few hours, she had stepped out of her boundaries of keeping her distance and, though she hadn't touched him, skin to skin, she kept close to his side. The darkness scared her. She'd been gripping his clothes since dusk.

The soles of their feet were scratched and bleeding from running for so long, causing them both to have to tread lightly and delicately as they walked in any direction they felt compelled to go.

           They'd been walking for two days, as far as THIRTEEN could tell. When they'd escaped their previous home, it had been dark, and until the sun was high in the sky the following day they'd merely ran, and ran, and ran. Then, he'd allowed ELEVEN to sleep, and had dozed against a tree himself, but hadn't dared to fully fall asleep for fear of being crept up on. Twelve more hours had passed since then, and they'd suffered through the freezing cold temperatures of nightfall together, before continuing their journey.

          Now, he was keeping awake and moving by only a grim force of will and the energy ELEVEN's urgent and sharp tugs at his hospital gown gave him.

"Okay?" THIRTEEN whispered to her as they slowly walked. The question had many different meanings, and brought no answer from the child.

The poor thing was too scared to speak.

         Her silence was understandable and pitiful, but annoying, especially because of the fact that THIRTEEN needed her to talk, needed her help, needed to hear what she'd gone through. Seeing her wasn't enough to confirm that what he'd gone through for the past decade of his life, he hadnt been alone in. He needed her to talk to him. What was the point in saving her if she was just going to burden him with her presence — a kid to look after, a little girl, a hungry mouth to feed and growing body to build — and not actually help?

"Wish you'd talk," he said, maybe a little harshly. He knew the moment he said those words that they were unfair; it was wrong of him to tell off a kid who'd been beaten and abused for years. They were in this together now, each other's only companions, and he had to treat her as such.