009

2

When nine first awoke, he though it had been a dream. From getting hurt, to feeling the monster, to Mike. Mike.

Mike.

Nine liked him. Mike made him feel safe. He was smart, he knew what he was doing. Nine liked that. After remembering mike, he hoped it was real.

And it was.

A nurse broke him from his daze, toying with the machine next to him. All nine could see was the top of her head and the ceiling as he lay flat on his back. Slowly the bed elevated and he could see the room. It was foreign to him. He new it was a hospital, but he'd never imagined it looking like this.

"Hey," A voice softly spoke from his side. Nine turned his head, it was the man. The nice man. "I'm officer Hopper. I can help you. Do you have a name?"

Nine choked up words, "No." He watched as the man, officer Hopper, glanced to the nurse as she left.

"So," He sat beside him in a chair. "Your alone? Completely? For how long?"

"I don't know," Nine frowned. "Always."

"Living on the streets?" Hopper questioned, though nine thought the answer was obvious. Hopper sighed, looking over nine's form. "Do you want to see eleven?"

"Eleven?" Nine didn't understand. Until Hopper ran his finger over his tattoo. "She's like me?" There was a ping of happiness. He wasn't completely alone after all. He wasn't the only one. He wasn't a complete freak and out cast.

"Yeah," Hopper nodded. "I'll get her." He stood.

"Mike?" Nine coughed up before he realized he spoke. Hopper paused and turned to him. This look in his eye.

"I'll have them called out of school." He nodded before leaving nine with his thoughts.

"School." He spoke with a sigh. He couldn't get the idea of going to school out of his head. Getting off the bus, joining friends in the halls for a morning ritual of talking before class. Learning to read and write, finally. He sighed at the idea. It was a dream.

Before he knew it, watching the breeze from the open widow push the curtains lost all means of entertainment it once held. He began counting the dots on the ceiling. He'd get to a big number, like 473, lose his place, and have to start again.

Mumbling the numbers under his breath, he froze when a group of boys walked in standing at the foot of his bed, their parents standing behind them. Hopper standing beside him with eleven.

Nine was suddenly very nervous about actually having to talk to people. Though he calmed down and he looked back up to the ceiling, finding his place and continuing his count.

"281, 282, 283, 284, 285, 286..." With a sigh he lost it. "1, 2, 3.."

"Okay, this is ridiculous. Why is my son here?" The black lady asked, hands on her son's shoulders. Nine didn't like her, she was rude.

"He asked for them." Hopper sighed. He was going to speak again when a women spoke.

"The boy went through a dramatic experience, he's nervous and scared. Our boys helped him through it, he's allowed to want to see them again." He patted a boys shoulder. Nine liked her, she was nice, smart. Very pretty.

"Fine," the women sighed. "But he's not to be left alone with him." The women ordered.

"Mom," he groaned. "What is he going to do?"

Hopper motioned the parents out of the room, some hesitating. The lady, the one he liked, gave her son a kiss on the head and a smile to nine, before following the others out. Hopper stood by the door observing from afar.

Big hair, ran to nine's side. "What can you do? Movie things with your mind? Read minds? Manipulate minds?" He rambled before the start of the others stopped him.

"I don't do anything." Nine mumbled out. He shifted, feeling like he let him down, he had looked to excited.

"What do you mean?" Eleven questioned.

But nine remained silent.

"That's okay," big hair nodded. "Your still really cool." His smile made nine feel better.

"I'm sorry." Nine frowned. Looking to the five of them with a sad glint in his eye. "I don't know your names."

"Oh, I'm Dustin!" Big hair grinned. "That's Will, Lucas, Mike, and eleven." He pointed. Nine mumbled the names aloud looking the the owner, going around the circle. As he land on mike, his eyes lingered on his.

"Do you have a name you want to go by?" Will smiled. Nine had to think. It had never crossed his mind that he might need a name on day. He shrugged in response, instantly shooting Dustin into excitement.

"We can help you pick on?" He offered. Nine nodded with the slightest smile. He liked the idea of having Dustin around more. He was funny. With his nod Dustin Will and Lucas started brain storming aloud. Lucas shooting down and insulting some of Dustin's ideas the second they left his lips. Nine watched in amusement, eyes content with the three boys, until I. The corner of his eye, he sees mike sit beside him in a chair.

Turning he locked eyes with him, it was a short silent moment, but a moment none the less. Nine felt his heart speed up a bit. He didn't know exactly why, but he knew it was a good feeling and he like it. And it didn't go unnoticed by mike. Mike observed his chest quicken it's pace as nine breath copied his hearts movement.

"What do you think about Skywalker?" Dustin grinned ear to ear. Mike and nine turned to their friends.

Friends. Nine liked that word.

"What? Don't be stupid." Lucas grumbled. "What about -"

"Y/n." Mike piped up. "It fits you, what do you say.

"I like it." Will smiled. Nine felt shy in that moment, and nodded.

"Alright, y/n. It's nice to meet you." Mike grinned. Nine- y/n- blushes the slightest bit, but covered it up with a smile. "Yeah, there you go."

"Monster." Eleven grumbled. Y/n's smile dropped and he, along with everyone else, looking her direction. "You said there was a monster. What monster?"

"You." Y/n frowned, looking her up and down. "You feel like a monster."

"Feel?" Lucas questioned. Y/n felt uneasy with the memory of monsters breathing down his neck with out being there.

"From the dark place." He bit his lip.

"The upside-down."

"I though you were one." Y/n frowns with a shiver running down his spine, being comforted by Mike's hand on his and Dustin sitting at his feet. "The dark place leaves a mark of your soul, one I feel."

It was silent, and y/n thought he did something wrong. He thought he screwed up already.