THE KIDS AREN'T ALRIGHT ｡ STRANGER THINGS

39 - POINT OF NO RETURN

Hawkins National Laboratory was ghostly; tall against the backdrop of wooded trees and echoing ruthlessly with hungry monsters ready for another round of bloodshed. Duncan Downings watched the building in silence, wondering if there was anything even left of his grandfather's body, hours later. He was not scared to enter the haunted corridors, he was not afraid to die, he was only afraid that Marigold would die alongside him if he did not make it out alive.

Eleven, beside him, lifted her chin upwards, eyes snaking from each window. Horrors filled her mind; snippets of a tragic story which involved her childhood snatched away from her by the claws of Dr. Brenner. A shudder went down her spine. "You are not his property anymore," Duncan said, hearing her thoughts in his head. "He can't hurt you. Not anymore."

"They can't hurt you either." Eleven replied, eyes snapping to his face. She had met another child like herself and that girl's life was not one she wanted. She wondered if Duncan Drownings was good, or bad, where his heart fell in the war within his head.

Duncan attempted a smile, but it was tight lipped, considering any second, they would descend back into the basement levels and seek out the Gate. They would either live with the trauma, or die before it could burden them. Again, he heard her thoughts, the question in which he did not have to answer, but he did anyway. "We're not like everyone else," he noted, slowly putting a hand on his shoulder, an action he had witnessed many times by Dottie Fields. He was slowly, but surely, picking up the ways of her calm heart. He mimicked others. "We are not like Eight. We have people that love us."

Eleven's lips lifted with his words. "Do you like Eggos?"

"I've never had them," Duncan replied. "But we will. Together."

Hopper rounded the truck, shoving out a handgun to Duncan, who stared down at it wordlessly. Hooper swung his own shot gun over his shoulder, very calm, very collected. Duncan squared his shoulders, trying to copy his stance. "Ever used one, kid?" Hopper questioned, voice deep.

Duncan shook his head, but took the gun, heavy in his palm. "No," He clicked off the safety lock, the movement effortless. Hopper gave a slight impressed grunt, followed by a jolt of his chin. He liked the kid. "But I've watched quite a bit of television. The A-Team plays again after midnight. Don't tell my aunt."

"Not a word," Hopper replied, eyes dropping down to Eleven. "I've take care of the heavy lifting, you just save your strength for later." Eleven nodded, taking a step towards the building in which held all her nightmares. Hopper glanced back at Duncan. "You too, if you've any powers you're not sharing, keep em' for later. She might need you."

Duncan followed behind them without a word, only a promise to protect what was good, and there was no doubt about it, Jim Hopper and Eleven were good.

***

Merrills Farm was drenched in ankle deep fog, snaking through the dead pumpkins and dribbling into the hole that Jim Hopper had opened up once already. Daisy Lonsdale, sick to her stomach with Max Mayfield's driving, emptied whatever was left in her stomach into the grass, wiping her lips clean with her sleeve. Behind her, the children were readying for the battle. Taking one deep breath, she pulled herself together and yanked a bandana from Lucas's hands, tying the thing around her neck without a word.

Sitting in the dirt, bloodied face covered with coloured bandaids, Steve Harrington stared at the hole in the ground, which led to the tunnels the Demodogs used. "No," he moaned and groaned, watching the children prepare for an easy drop into the earth below. His eyes snapped towards Daisy, who stalked towards him. "What the hell, Daisy? We're supposed to be the adults here. We're supposed to make sure the shitheads don't die."