𝔸𝕥 𝕊𝕚𝕩𝕖𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕊𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕟𝕤

ꜱᴀʟᴠᴀɢᴇ ⑬

Saturday, November 12th, 1983

When Hopper stepped through the threshold, both Joyce and Tyler let out a collective gasp. He had bruises on his face, mostly on the right side, angry and seething, though none were as furious as the man himself.

The guard had brought Tyler to Joyce's interrogation room, a carbon copy of the one he had been imprisoned in. He'd been relieved to see she was alright, if not a bit shaken from her own conversation with Brenner. She'd told the man to "go to hell", which lifted Tyler's spirits until he remembered that he'd said a whole lot more than that. Still, he'd been careful enough to not give anything away that Brenner most likely already knew, keeping personal details private. He treated it like an essay for school, albeit the much more tedious situation.

Tyler noticed that Hopper's hands were free, unbound from the handcuffs that the three of them had placed on them. Before he could ask, the guard who'd escorted the man in walked over to Tyler, reaching down and unlocking his cuffs, which the previous guard had secured to the chair opposite Joyce.

"What's going on?" the boy asked, rubbing his wrists where the metal left behind red marks. Hopper afforded him a glance but otherwise said nothing. Joyce looked equally as confused, but kept quiet as the guard freed her too and led the three of them out into a hallway.

More guards blocked both ends of the corridor, ruling out the possibility of escape. Tyler fell into step behind the two adults as they moved down the hallways eerily similar to an office building, down to the wood paneled walls.

It had been almost a half hour since Tyler's interrogation with Brenner. Even as he reminded himself that he hadn't given away anything important, the news that Joyce (and most likely Hopper) had said nothing made him feel as though he'd done something wrong. Would Brenner really have sent him back? To his grandparents? To his father? Or, even worse, his mother?

The thoughts plagued his mind as the group moved down what seemed like endless twists and turns, Joyce and Hopper muttering to each other as they went.

"I don't understand," she hissed to the police chief. Hopper looked stoically ahead, his eyes blazing with suppressed fury.

"We came to an agreement. Everything that's happened here, and everything's that gonna happen, we don't talk about."

He looked over his shoulder at Tyler. "You want Will back? This place had nothing to do with it. You got it?"

The guard in the very front stopped in front of a thick glass door framed in white, pushing it open, followed by a nervous-looking scientist. Hopper's gaze fell on the rack of yellow hazmat suits lined against the wall, acidic amongst the paling tiled walls of the room.

"What's this?" he demanded.

"Protection," the scientist answered. "The atmosphere is toxic."

Joyce's eyes widened in horror. "But... my son's in there."

Tyler curled his fingers into a fist, his dull nails making crescent-shaped dents in his palm. He'd been in the Upside Down, breathing in the particles, the air, for almost a week. Will, even longer. He hadn't thought about the toll being in the other world would have on his health, though in hindsight it seemed obvious.

"You got any in kids' sizes?" he muttered sarcastically. The smallest suit was still a bit big, but, with some strategically wrapped duct tape, it fit well enough. As he fought his way through the rubber material, he reminded himself that he was so close to finding Will. All he needed to do was go back through the Upside Down, a place he'd trekked through many times before.