Thunder clapped over Hawkins National Laboratory like an old friend as Hopper, Joyce and Tatum made their way deep into the facility, retracing steps they had made within the past two years of havoc that the facility had wreaked on the small town.
The building itself was littered with plastic liners and boxed up items that would never be retrieved. Most doorways were taped over with hazard markers and the floors were scuffed beyond belief.
It was Hopper who broke through the poorly secured plastic covering the entryway into the observation room that faced the heart of Hawkin's torturous underground neighbor.
Tatum let out a soft breath as she stepped into the room, shattered glass from the observatory windows being blown in by demo-dogs that had gotten too bold spread about the floor.
Where the living, breathing gate had been was instead simple concrete, just as it had been before Eleven had caused the rift between worlds two years before.
The trio stepped out of the glass casing onto the exterior floor that had been made to fill the massive hole in the ground that had been created, stepping up to the wall.
Hop leaned in, knocking on it before pressing his ear to it. He looked to Joyce, who even then had her hesitancies. "Nobody's home," he replied.
"I want her to listen."
Tatum's brows lifted as both adults looked to her, pointing at herself. "Me, her?"
"You've got the super ears," Joyce said before motioning to the wall. "You have the most connection to it. You sealed it with El. I want you to listen."
"Sure, I can do that." Tatum took an unsure step forward as Joyce and Hopper backed up, giving her space to work. She reached out, hand waving in front of the concrete before she let her fingers touch the cool surface. She drew away, hand recoiling.
"What's wrong?"
"It's fine," she softly said before replacing her hand on the surface. Pressing both of her hands against it, she closed her eyes.
Thoughts of Nina ran rampant behind her eyes, the young girl plagued with running from monsters within the Upside Down.
Joyce and Hopper stayed quiet, minutes passing as they stared at a completely frozen Tatum.
"Is she okay?" Joyce asked, voice low in worries of interfering with whatever magic she was doing.
"I have no idea."
"Do we stop her? Pull her out of it?"
"I think she has to pull herself out," Hop replied, arms folding over his chest.
Joyce sighed, sitting on a work bench that had been left behind. "I feel like I'm losing my mind."
"You're not losing your mind. There's something going on here, but we can't touch it." Hop wandered around with his flashlight, both avoiding Tatum's space. "You know, the other day, I almost shot Betsy Payne's dog because it came rushing at me from behind this fence, and I...I swear to God, I thought it was one of those things." He shook his head lightly. "You know that I'm keeping a close eye on things, right?"
"I know."
"Because it's important to me," he said. "It's important to me that you feel safe. That you and your family feel safe. Tatum has already been able to draw out her brother, and it's only a matter of time before we get another lead. I want you to feel like this can still be your home."
Joyce's eyes closed with a sigh.
"What?" Hop asked. "You didn't think I'd find out about that? Gary called me. He said he's fixing up your house to put on the market." He let out a light puff of air, walking about the room without intention. "The kids know yet?"
Joyce looked away, her soft shake telling him that no, the kids had not been informed that they were moving.
Hop walked to the work bench, sitting on the concrete platform in front of her. "After Sarah...I had to get away. I had to get the hell out of that place, you know? Outrun those, uh, those memories, I guess." He sighed. "I mean, why do you think I ended back up in this shithole?" He smiled lightly up at her. "But you have something that I never had. You have people that know what you've been through. You have people that care about you. Right here. In Hawkins."
"You mean..." Joyce, on the verge of crying, sputtered out, "You mean, people like Scott Clarke?" She sighed, shaking her head. "That was a joke."
Hopper rolled his eyes before letting out a sarcastic agreeance, chuckling.
They were drawn out of a peaceful moment by a startled gasp from Tatum, her head shooting up from the trance she had fallen into as she stumbled back from the wall.
And just nearly covered by the teen's awakening, a clattering of metal in the distance.
Hopper grabbed Tate by the arm and pulled her to the group, all of their lights focusing out towards the sound.
"What was that?" Joyce asked, the idea of questioning where Tatum had went internally disappearing.
"Let's find out," he said, guiding the trio back the way they came through the observatory only to stop them at the plastic paneling covering the door out into the hall. "Wait here."
"Oi, no way!" protested Tatum. "That's never a good thing to say in Hawkins."
Hopper refenced the handgun holstered to his hip. "I've got this," he assured before disappearing through the plastic.
Tatum focused on the sounds that Hopper created, the clap of his heavy feet on the floor joined not long after by a door down the hall creaking to a close.
"What do you hear?" Joyce whispered, gripping her flashlight so tight it had begun to turn her knuckles white.
"I don't think we're the only ones here," replied Tatum, resting her back against the wall next to the doorway, only a step away from being able to slip out into the hall if needed. "But it could be something small, like a rat."
"Rats aren't so scary," she said aloud, more for herself than anyone else.
A series of clatters and scraping followed, so distant only Tatum could pick it up and the aggressive thunder overhead wasn't helping her keep the signal.
"This is Hawkins Chief of Police! Come out with your hands up!" Hopper called. "You hear me? Hands up!"
Tatum lightly recoiled at the suddenness of a door being kicked in, Hop no doubt against waiting for a response. But it was the sudden sound of knuckles hitting flesh that caused her to shoot up from her reclined position. "There's someone here," she said, looking to Joyce. "Can you run to the truck?"
"What about you?" Joyce asked as Tatum pulled her out of the observatory and into the hall.
"I can take care of whoever it is," she assured, stopping shy of the open door Hop had gone through. "I can retrace his steps. Go to the car. There's a crowbar in the back if you need it. Go!"
As Joyce ran down the hall back the way they had come, Tatum jogged the path she had heard only by Hop's footsteps, the sounds of a fight drawing her toward a room with the door swung wide open.
A tall man hidden by the shadows of the room slammed Hopper against the glass windows, his strength unmatched and nearly inhuman.
"Oi!" she shouted from the door, causing the man to let go and drop a barely conscious Hopper to the ground.
"Devchonka," he growled, towering over her.
"Ne malen'kaya devochka." Tatum's hands shot up, sending the graying giant across the room and slamming him into the wall, threatening to bust through the dry wall.
"You look little to me," the man said gruffly, his English as heavily accented as the weight on his eyes as he was crumpled against the wall. It wasn't long before his head fell to the side, asleep for at least a little while.
"Hop?" Tatum slid to her knees next to Hopper, the chief battered and bruised, barely hanging on the world around him. "We gotta go." She rolled him onto his side, blood pooling from his face. "Hop, please. We need to get the hell out of here before he wakes up."
Hopper groaned as he was helped up into a sitting position. "Were you speaking Russian?"
"I've picked up a little bit along the way," she replied, helping hoist him up from the ground and slinging his arm around her shoulder to keep him steady. "Let's go."
"What did he say to you?" Hopper grumbled as he forced one foot in front of the other, barely able to keep up with Tatum as they swept out of sight of the Russian and headed for the exit.
"He," she gruffed out of the weight against her and wedged their way through the glass doors leading outside, "said I was a little girl. I told him I wasn't."
"Oh my God!" Joyce yelped, running from the curb and taking the other side of Hopper. "What happened?"
"Evil Russian." Tatum pointed to the car. "Get the door."
Tatum and Joyce worked together to get Hopper in the car, the chief ready to drop out of existence at any moment. Once he was finally secured in the middle, he was propped up by the women on either side of him.
Tate revved the patrol vehicle to life, too panicked to revel in the fact that she was driving Hopper's car - something he would rather die than see happen. She ripped out of the facility's lot under the cover of the night storm, racing back into the safety of town through the rain.
A bike that looked much like her own had sat silently in the parking lot, not doubt belonging to their attacker.
"I don't understand," Joyce said, voice high in stress. "Why was he there? Why would he attack Hopper?"
"Probably to send a message." Tatum shifted uncomfortably in the driver's seat, pushed far up on the bench to make sure her feet could reach the pedals.
Joyce shook her head. "How would he know we were there? He lured Hop out."
Hopper groaned in response to his name, but his head fell backward onto the seat.
"Want to make a bet about those security cameras? Maybe there's nobody in the booth, but the Russians moved their operations here because of how strong the bond to the Upside Down is with Hawkins. I know for a fact they raided the lab. Who's to say they didn't hack the cameras and link them to where they are? Keep an eye on those who might know something."
"This is all my fault," Joyce cried, looking to Hop's bloodied face. "I should have just listened. I should have taken what you said instead of making us come here."
"He'll be alright, Joyce," Tatum assured, blaring straight through town and out to the cabin. "He's tough. It was a big ass Russian, though. Unusually large."
Joyce's brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"
"He had Terminator vibes for sure." Tatum pulled up short of her own Jeep as well as Joyce's car. "Think we can walk him to the cabin from here?" she asked as she cut the engine, the rain pounding so loud on the roof it was difficult to hear one another.
With Joyce's assurance, the two girls grabbed one of Hopper's arms and practically dragged him through the woods.
"The trip wire!" Tatum called out, the trio stopping short of the wires that looped around the immediate vicinity of the house. She swore, rain pouring over the two of them as time was wasted. "Pick up one of his feet!"
With little light and the rain blocking most of their view, it was a wonder that each of them managed to swing Hopper's feet over the wire before stepping over it themselves.
"This is ridiculous," Tatum mumbled, mud squishing under her feet as she threw the front door of the cabin open without having to let go of Hop. "Get him on the couch."
"At least the rain washed most of the blood off his face," Joyce remarked as they dropped him onto the sofa, the fabric no doubt ruined from the sopping chief laying across it.
Hopper laughed in a sudden burst of energy, only for his eyes to roll into the back of his head.
"And he's out completely. Nice," Tate groaned, going to the kitchen cabinet under the sink and retrieving the first aid kit. "Looks like El is at Max's for the night." She referenced the note on the fridge before handing the case over to Joyce. "It's cool they're getting along now. El wasn't her biggest fan for a while."
"That's just girls being girls, I guess," Joyce said, sat on the coffee table and tending to the wounds on Hopper's face.
The skin had split through the tail end of his eyebrow, bruising no doubt to come soon. His jaw was lined with an angry purple and blood was dripping from the corner of his mouth.
"Here." Joyce extended a gauze pad in Tatum's direction, having to wave it to force the teen to take it. "Your nose, Tate."
Although her brows furrowed, she was quick to wipe the blood off her upper lip. "I hadn't noticed," she quietly said. She shivered against the cold as she threw the gauze away, her entire body slick and her clothes clinging much too close for comfort. "This is not how I thought today was going to turn out."
"Hoping for just another day at the pool?"
"Rainy days are the best, too," she replied, grabbing a towel from the cupboard and wrapping it around her shoulders. "You kick everyone out of the pool if there's lightening nearby, and then you sit around and get paid to do nothing. It's fantastic."
Joyce grinned, shaking her head lightly as she bandaged above Hopper's brow. "That does sound pretty nice."
"Where are you going to move to?"
"How..." Lifting her gaze from Hopper, she met Tatum's with evident concern. "You were doing the wall thingy when we talked about that."
"Super ears, as you call them, are so super that they can pick up more than one conversation at once. It was like background noise for me."
"What else did you hear?"
Tatum leaned against the back of the sofa, hovering over Hopper as he was meticulously tended to. "Just noise. Noise from in there."
Joyce gave her a soft look of anguish. "What kind of noises?"
"The things that live there. The demogorgons. Just...patter. Movement."
"But I thought they were all dead?" she asked.
Tatum nodded. "The ones that were out here, seeping out from the rift last year. They all died. But there's plenty more inside the Upside Down. More things."
"What if..." Joyce's eyes closed, the image of Bob dying in front of her darting across her line of sight as if it were happening at the back of the cabin. "What if the Russians open the gate? What if they can do it? I don't think I can handle all of it again. Not a third time."
"We're working on not letting that happen, Joyce, I promise," she told her. "I have a plan."
Joyce scoffed lightly. "That sounds dangerous."
"I haven't said what it is yet."
"I know you, Tatum."
"Yeah, that's fair."
"So, what's the plan?" Joyce asked, standing from the crouched position next to Hopper. "Can I help?"
Tatum hummed. "You can help by not saying anything to the boys tomorrow. They'll be looking for me. Just tell them I'll be fine."
"You know a lot more than you're telling, don't you?"
"Always."
||
Once Jim Hopper was deemed safe and Magnum P.I. was put on the TV for when he woke up, Tatum and Joyce parted on a good but concerned note, and no one had the facts but Tatum.
At least, she felt like she had most of the facts.
Soaking the driver's seat of the Jeep fully by the time she returned home to and empty house, she didn't run to take a shower or get dry.
Instead, she poured the last glass of Elena's expensive Parisian wine and took a seat on her favored barstool in the kitchen. Barely needing to look in the direction of her room, the needle on her record player lifted, the sound soon looped through the television speakers to blast The Clash throughout the house.
She wasn't surprised when the sound of an engine roared into the driveway.
Tatum rose from the barstool, pushing back the hair that had fallen from her soaking wet braids on her way to the door. And as she let the door open on its own, her expression fell.
"Hey, sweetheart," Billy said, walking past her without pause into the foyer.
"I don't..." Tatum slid the front door shut. "You shouldn't be here."
Billy grinned, tilting his head as he stopped just in front of her. "Why not?" he asked, running a finger along her cheek. "I want you. It's always been you."
Tatum pushed his hand away, albeit not aggressively. "You really shouldn't be here. It's not safe."
"This is Hawkins. Of course it's not safe."
Tate's jaw tightened, taking in this new face, this off-putting version of the boy that she loved more than she could understand. "That's your fault, isn't it?"
He grinned wide. "Ooo, you're good." His brows lifted. "How'd you figure it out? The little ones, the orange one and the one who helped you that night, they're curious. Suspicious. But you, you're sure of it. How? I thought I was being careful."
"They were fools to try and open the gate."
"Fools? Try heroes." Billy took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he admired Tatum. "But they are quite lack luster. That's where you come in." He leaned in close, lips brushing against her earlobe. "That's why I need you to open the gate to let the rest of me out."
Tatum pushed him back, hand colliding with his chest and nearly rocking him off his feet as he staggered back. "I won't. I will never do you any favors."
Billy laughed, nothing but pain behind it. "But you could have Nina back. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
"Who do you think warned me about you? Who do you think told me you crept into Billy's body?"
Billy's eye twitched, his smug grin fading. "How?"
"I listened."
A large smile suddenly broke, startling against the odd look in his eyes. "Well, to be fair about this." He referenced a hand down himself. "I didn't know who it was. I didn't know it was your love, but that just makes this so much sweeter, doesn't it? It's leverage I didn't know I needed."
"It's not gonna work."
"Oh, come off it," Billy replied, feigning a perfect British accent to mock her. "You love him, he loves you. You'd never let him get hurt."
"If you hurt him, you know I'll never help you."
Billy's face fell flat, pausing to think. "Huh."
"For a thousand years old, you're not that bright." Tatum bypassed Billy as she drained her wine glass, setting it down on the kitchen counter. "Look, stay if you want, but I don't think you'll like it."
He scoffed. "What, are you going to attack me a bruise this pretty face?"
"No." Tatum went back to the foyer and opened the front door without cause. "He might, though."
The Terminator's face scrunched, standing on the porch with a hand outstretched to grab the door knob.
"Hello Igor," Tatum mused. "I'm guessing that's your name. Please, come in."
The tall, brutish man drenched by the rain hesitantly crossed the threshold, looking to either side of him to witness two teens that seemed less concerned about his presence than he had expected. "I do not understand."
Tatum pointed to herself. "I knew you were coming because you saw what I did back at the lab." She pointed to Billy. "He's a moron and is not going to be useful, so go ahead and knock him out. He could use recalibration, if you ask me." She grabbed a pack of cigarettes off the entry table, lighting one and taking a deep puff. "What's your name then?"
"Grigori."
"What the hell is going on?" Billy shouted.
"He's here to kidnap me, sweetheart," she replied, cigarette bouncing in the corner of her mouth.
Grigori's face scrunched, towering over the two. "How you know?"
"Magiya," she mused. "That's magic in Russian, babe. Look, he's going to take me to try and open the gate for the Russians, so you should be excited, right?" She waved a hand for Grigori to approach Billy. "Prodolzhit'," she said. "Make him nap. I'm almost positive you brought more than one of those syringes to make me sleep."
"I am very confused," Grigori mumbled, reaching into his coat pocket and revealing a filled syringe. Albeit questioning whether or not he was actually following his victim's orders, he grabbed Billy by the shoulder and plunged the needle into his neck before he could react.
"No...no!" he shouted, the vein in his forehead showing itself in anger. "You can't have her! She's mine!"
"Eh." Grigori picked him up by the waist as he slumped over and practically threw him onto the sofa from the foyer. "You speak good Russian," he told Tatum.
"Thanks, my brother taught me." She waved a hand toward herself. "Alright, do the thing."
Grigori's brows furrowed. "But you are willing, yes?"
Tatum scoffed. "God, no. You think I'm going to help the Russians? If you don't use the syringe, I will attack you again and I don't think you want that. I will definitely throw you into another wall."
"Okay, okay," he said, retrieving a second syringe that would knock her out from his coat. "You are a strange girl."
"You're right about that."
Grigori plunged the needle into Tatum's neck, catching her as she began to slump against him. He looked up as the loud music blasting through the house shut off, leaving the home startling quiet. "Very strange girl," he remarked, picking Tatum up and draping her over his shoulder.
She definitely could have gone with Grigori awake and be able to witness the layout of the facility to mark an exit strategy, to greet those who were planning on torturing her or smugly wave to her brother, but she needed to sleep.
She needed to save her strength for the real plan.