Nancy - Hawkins Lab, Normal World, 3:15 AM
Steve went limp in Nancy's arms—dead weight, bleeding from wounds she could see and probably more she couldn't.
"No. No no no, you don't get to die after all that." Nancy pressed her hand to the worst gash across his back. Blood soaked through imdiately. "Hopper! Help!"
Hopper was already moving, checking Steve's pulse. "He's alive. Barely. We need to move—lab security will be here any second."
"He needs a hospital!"
"He needs to not be captured by governnt agents." Hopper scooped Steve up in a fireman's carry, grunting under the weight. "Barb—can you walk?"
Barb leaned heavily on the wall, missing fingers wrapped in Nancy's torn shirt sleeve. Face still pale but functioning. "I can move."
Eleven swayed, nose still bleeding, barely conscious. Nancy caught her before she fell.
"Co on, sweetie. Stay with ."
"Tired," El whispered. "Used too much. Saved Steve. Had to save him."
"You did. You saved everyone. But we have to go."
The lab's alarms scread louder. Footsteps echoing down corridors—multiple teams converging on containnt.
"Exit?" Nancy demanded.
"Service tunnel, west corridor." Hopper was already moving, Steve's blood dripping on the floor behind them. "Sa way we ca in. Move!"
They ran.
Nancy half-carried El, Barb stumbling beside them, Hopper leading with Steve over his shoulder. Every step left a blood trail. Every corner could hide security.
The service tunnel door—still unlocked from their entry.
Through. Down the corridor. Ergency exit at the far end.
Guards burst from the stairwell behind them. "Halt! Federal agents!"
"Fuck that," Hopper muttered. He kicked the ergency exit. Alarms added to the symphony of chaos.
Cold November air hit them like a wall. Three-thirty AM, darkness, the parking lot where they'd left vehicles hours ago.
Hopper's truck still there. Joyce's car. Both intact.
"Keys!" Nancy shouted.
Hopper tossed them one-handed while keeping Steve secure. Nancy caught them, fumbled open the truck's extended cab.
"Barb, El—in the back seat. Careful of Steve."
They loaded Steve as gently as possible. He didn't wake. Didn't respond. Just bled and breathed in shallow gasps.
Nancy climbed in, applied pressure to the worst wounds. "Drive! Just drive!"
Hopper drove.
Hopper - Truck, 3:45 AM
The radio crackled with lab security coordinating pursuit. Hopper ignored it, focused on the road, truck doing seventy through Hawkins back roads.
In the rear-view: Nancy applying battlefield triage with supplies from Steve's ergency kit. Barb conscious but in shock. El passed out completely.
"How is he?" Hopper called back.
"Bad. Really bad. He's got three deep lacerations across his back, the bullet graze on his shoulder, possible broken ribs, and I don't know what else." Nancy's voice stayed level through sheer force of will. "He won't make it to Indianapolis."
"Not going to Indianapolis. Going to Hawkins General."
"The lab will look there!"
"Let them. We've got a story. We stick to it." Hopper grabbed his radio—his actual police radio. "Dispatch, this is Chief Hopper. Multiple casualties, civilian rescue operation, inbound to Hawkins General. Alert staff we're arriving hot."
Flo's voice crackled back: "Chief? Where have you been? We've had reports of—"
"Later. Just have dical standing by."
He hung up, focused on driving.
The hospital appeared—small-town facility, barely equipped for major trauma. But it would have to do.
Hopper pulled straight to the ergency entrance. Doors burst open, nurses with a gurney rushing out.
"Three critical," Hopper barked. "Trauma, exposure, blood loss."
They loaded Steve first. Nancy refusing to let go until a nurse physically pulled her away.
"Miss, we need room to work—"
"That's my friend. I'm not leaving him."
"Then stay back and let us do our job."
They wheeled Steve through doors into the ER. Barb next, protesting she could walk. El last, barely responsive.
Hopper stood in the parking lot, covered in Steve's blood, and called Dr. Sam Owens.
Steve - Hawkins General Hospital, 6:30 AM
Pain woke .
Not the phantom pain from healing others—my own pain. Real, physical, overwhelming.
Ribs cracked. Back stitched. Shoulder bandaged. Everything hurts.
I tried sitting up. Mistake. Agony lanced through my torso.
"Easy." Chrissy's voice. She sat beside the bed, eyes red from crying, hand gripping mine. "You're safe. You're in the hospital. Don't move."
"Everyone?" I croaked. Throat dry as sand.
"Will's ho. Barb's stable. El's sleeping. Jonathan, Nancy, Hopper—everyone made it." Tears ran down her face. "You almost didn't."
"But I did."
"Thirty stitches in your back. Six in your shoulder. Two cracked ribs. Severe blood loss. The doctors said—" Her voice broke. "They said if you'd lost any more blood, you wouldn't have made it."
I squeezed her hand. "I'm okay."
"You're not okay. You're a ss. What happened in there?"
Can't tell her. Can't tell anyone the full truth. The Upside Down, the Demogorgon, any of it.
"Got them out. That's what matters."
"Steve—"
The door opened. Hopper entered, looking exhausted but relieved. "You're awake. Good. We need to get our stories straight before the Feds arrive."
"What's the cover?"
"Freak storm system. You and I went looking for the missing kids in the woods. Found them sheltering in an old drainage tunnel. Barb got injured by debris, you got hurt during the rescue. Everyone got hypothermia from exposure."
"And the lab?"
"What lab? There was no lab infiltration. No parallel dinsion. No governnt conspiracy." Hopper's expression was flat. "We found lost kids in a storm. That's the story."
"Brenner—"
"Is being dealt with by people above both our pay grades. Dr. Owens is coordinating cleanup. As far as anyone knows, this was a search and rescue operation that went bad."
I absorbed this. The lie. The cover-up. Just like the show.
"And El?"
"Jane Hopper. My niece. Daughter of my late brother who I never talk about. She's staying with now."
"She okay with that?"
"She's scared, confused, and just killed a monster with her mind. I don't think she knows what okay ans anymore." Hopper sat heavily. "But I'm not letting those bastards have her back. She's mine now. Legally. Dr. Owens is expediting the paperwork."
"Thank you."
"Don't thank . You're the one who orchestrated this whole thing." Hopper studied . "How did you know? About El, the gate, the creature. How did you know any of it?"
Three years of preparation. A lifeti of watching a TV show. Death and reincarnation into fiction made real.
"I pay attention. Connect dots. Prepare for worst-case scenarios."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one you're getting."
Hopper nodded slowly. "Fair enough. As long as the kids are safe, I don't need to understand everything."
The door opened again. Joyce Byers rushed in, Will behind her—clean clothes, color in his face, alive.
"Steve." Joyce grabbed my hand, tears streaming. "Thank you. Thank you for bringing my boy ho."
"Team effort, Mrs. Byers."
Will stepped forward, shy and scared but determined. "You saved . Jonathan said you fought the monster."
"Everybody fought. Everybody saved everybody." I t Will's eyes. "You survived three days in hell by yourself. That's the real heroism."
"I was so scared."
"Fear doesn't an you're not brave. It ans you're human."
Will hugged —careful of my injuries, gentle, but fierce. "Thank you."
My throat tight. This is why. This mont. This kid alive and hugging instead of dying in the Upside Down.
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