Experiment - BYLER + REDDIE

➵ chapter two

➵ the escape

November 7th, 1985

Hawkins, Indiana

When Will came to, he was strapped to a metal chair, and there were wires tangled all around his head. He tried to pull his hand up to take the wires off his head, but it was tied down to the arm of the chair. He started to struggle and try to get free, but before he could make much progress, a voice came from behind him.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Mr. Byers."

Will scoffed. "And why's that?"

"Well, you wouldn't want to infect your new tattoo, would you?"

Will glanced down at his wrist and saw three numbers he hadn't noticed before. 013.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he asked, voice shaking. "How can you live with yourself?"

"I have my ways," the voice responded. "Now, we will be putting you under anesthesia-"

"What?!"

"-so we can run some tests. I'll see you in a few days, Thirteen."

"DAYS?" Will struggled even harder against his restraints, but they wouldn't budge. He felt the same prick in the side of his neck, and everything went dark. Again.

—

This time when Will came to, he was in a bed.

It reminded him a lot of the bed he had woken up in after being un-possessed; it was small, metal, and very uncomfortable. He cautiously sat up and observed his surroundings. A small, grey room with one door, no windows, and one air vent. The only furniture was the bed and a small — also metal — desk in the corner with an — also metal — chair sitting in front of it.

Will checked his wrist again, and the tattoo was still there. He wasn't expecting it to fade or anything, he was just hoping it might have all been a dream.

It was not a dream, he realized as he sat up, groaning at his pounding headache. What kind of drugs had they put him on? He had no idea how much time had passed, but he remembered someone saying "days," but it was a vague memory, so he wasn't sure if it was just a dream or not.

In fact, Will could barely remember anything, now that he thought about it. Of course he remembered El and the gate and the demogorgon and the upside down, but the past few days — maybe longer? — were just... gone. Will wasn't sure where he was at first, but he thought it was probably safe to say he was in the Lab, considering his tattoo.

He stood from his bed and went to the door, knocking loudly, despite the noise aggravating his headache.

"Hello? Anybody?"

The door opened, surprisingly, and Will stumbled backwards as Laura walked in with a large bag, shutting the door behind her. It clicked and beeped as it shut, meaning it had a key card to open it.

Laura stepped further into the room, past Will, and sat on the desk chair, gesturing for Will to sit on the bed across from her. Will did not want to do anything the Bad Men wanted him to do, but he also wanted to know what the hell was going on, so he sat on the bed and raised his eyebrows expectantly. Laura sighed and pulled something pink and fuzzy with little knots around the edges out of the large bag she was carrying.

It was Will's blanket.

Before Lauren could even offer the blanket to him, Will lunged forward and grabbed it, immediately wrapping it around his shoulders and inhaling its familiar scent. The scent of Castle Byers. The scent of home. The scent of...

Mike?

Will looked up quickly and furrowed his eyebrows at Laura. "Is Mike here?"

Laura frowned. "Sorry, Will, I don't know a Mike. I brought this though." She rummaged through the bag and after a second, she pulled out Will's sweater — well, really it was Mike's sweater — and handed it to him. Will inhaled its scent, and sure enough, it was Mike's. It must have been sitting next to the blanket, which made them both smell like Mike. Will wasn't complaining, of course.

"Listen, Will," Laura glanced into the corner at the security camera, then lowered her voice, "I'm trying to help you."

Will scoffed. "That's what you said last time."

"Yes, I know, and that was a mistake, but I'm trying to help you now, so if you would please shut u-" Laura cut herself off as her voice started to raise and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. "I swear to you, I am trying to help. I'm going to pull the fire alarm in ten minutes. During the panic, I'll sneak down to the electricity room and shut off the power, which will open your door, okay? You have to be quick and quiet and wear the sweater over your hospital gown so people don't see that you're not supposed to be out."

Will narrowed his eyes skeptically. "Why are you helping me? How do I know this isn't a trick? Or just some experiment?"

Laura sighed. "I know I don't deserve your trust, but I swear to you I'm trying to help you escape, okay? Just put on the sweater, and as soon as you hear that lock click open, I want you to run. Get as far away as you can, and don't look back. Got it?"

Will nodded slowly, and Laura left the bag on his bed, standing up.

"There's some food, water, and money in there, should last you long enough to get somewhere safe. I was also able to get your walkie talkie and mixtape, but nothing else, besides the blanket and sweater, sorry. I'll make sure they don't go after you, I promise."

The plan went just as Laura described it. The fire alarms went off, the door unlocked, Will slipped outside and quickly blended into the crowd of running doctors, he sprinted outside and down the road until he reached a bus station, he bought a ticket and boarded the bus, he rode it through seven states (Indiana, Ohio, Pennsylvania, New York, Vermont, New Hampshire, and Maine), and was finally forced to get off at the end of the bus line, in Derry, Maine.

Will stumbled off the bus, trying to shake out his legs, which had fallen asleep from sitting for so long. It was the middle of the day at that point, and it was very bright out. Will could barely see.

That never led to anything good.

As Will stumbled down the street, trying to figure out where he could go, he failed to notice a car speeding down the road.

He failed to notice the teenage boy driving, who was shouting insults at him as the car drove closer.

And closer.

And closer.

And somehow, Will Byers failed to notice when he stepped into the street and was knocked flat on his back by the car, which then drove away quickly.

—

➵ word count: 1669