Downtown Hawkins – Behind the Theater
The morning sun had barely cleared the rooftops, casting long, golden shadows across the narrow alley behind the Hawkins Theater. The air carried the smell of fresh spray paint, smoke, and something sour—like leftover beer.
Nancy Wheeler marched down the alley, her boots slapping hard against the pavement. Jonathan Byers trailed just behind her, quiet but alert, both of them drawn by the harsh sound of teenage laughter echoing from around the corner.
Then they saw them.
Steve Harrington, Tommy H., and Carol leaned casually against a graffiti-covered brick wall. Tommy held a can of red spray paint in one hand, grinning as he finished his latest handiwork:"Nancy Wheeler gives it up to Jonathan Byers."
Nancy's eyes locked on the words, then flicked to the smirking faces of the trio.
She didn't hesitate.
Her hand cracked across Steve's cheek with a loud slap that echoed off the alley walls. He staggered back, stunned.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" she shouted, fury flaring in her eyes.
Steve's expression hardened. "What's wrong with me? I was worried about you."
Behind him, Tommy and Carol cackled, tossing out cruel slurs—"Slut.""Tramp.""Byers' girl."
Their mockery rang out like poison in the air.
Nancy stepped closer, unafraid. "Did you come by last night?"
"Ding, ding, ding! Did she get it right?" Carol said with a smirk.
Nancy turned toward them, her glare sharp enough to cut steel. Then she looked back at Steve, her voice low but shaking with emotion. "What you think you saw—what everyone thinks—it wasn't like that."
Steve met her gaze coldly. "Yeah, I came by. So what? You're not answering my question."
He jabbed a finger toward Jonathan. "Why did you let him into your room? What, was it for studying?"
Nancy's face flushed red with anger. "We were just—"
"Finish the sentence," Steve snapped.
Nancy clenched her jaw but said nothing.
Steve's eyes narrowed. "Go to hell, Nancy."
Jonathan moved forward quickly. "Come on. Let's just go."
But Steve wasn't done.
"You know what, Byers? I'm actually kind of impressed. Always figured you for a loser. But hey, I guess you're just like your old man—a screw-up."
He gave Jonathan a rough shove.
Jonathan stumbled but caught himself. His face stayed calm, but his eyes were blazing.
Steve laughed bitterly, then added, "What's it like, huh? Living in that dump? Still falling apart? "Honestly, I'm not even surprised what happened to your brother. Kid was always a freak" And your mom—Jesus, she's a headcase. Wandering around town like a damn lunatic. Honestly, it's pathetic."
"Shut up, Steve!" Nancy screamed.
But Steve shoved Jonathan again—harder this time.
That was it.
Jonathan lunged forward and tackled him.
They crashed to the ground in a flurry of fists and curses.
The fight was raw and vicious. Steve landed a few solid hits early, but Jonathan—quiet, repressed Jonathan—didn't hold back. days of frustration, pain, and humiliation came pouring out in every swing.
Nancy shouted, trying to pull them apart, but they were locked in a violent blur.
A lone police car rolled by at the edge of the alley. The officer inside saw the chaos and hit the brakes.He stepped out cautiously, hand on his weapon, clearly overwhelmed by what he was seeing.
Steve, Tommy, and Carol scrambled to their feet and bolted down the street, vanishing into the shadows before the officer could react.
Nancy and Jonathan weren't so lucky.
The officer shouted at them to freeze, then moved in quickly. They were grabbed, handcuffed, and taken into custody—bloodied, breathless, and burning with anger.
Sattler Quarry – Same Time
The dense woods surrounding Sattler Quarry were quiet, the canopy above casting shadows that made the ground feel darker than it was.
Mike Wheeler and Dustin Henderson pushed through the underbrush, both on edge, scanning the trees.
"Where is she?" Mike whispered, his voice tight. "She's gotta be close."
But instead of Eleven, two other figures emerged from the shadows.
Troy and James.
"Well, well," Troy said with a twisted grin.
"Look who it is."
Mike stepped protectively in front of Dustin.
"What do you want?"
Troy pulled something from his pocket. A knife.
"You think you're funny?" he growled.
"Making me piss myself in front of the whole school?"
Mike and Dustin exchanged a look. Then—unbelievably—they laughed. Just a little.
That was all it took.
"You laughed?" Troy's expression twisted with rage.
He lunged and grabbed Dustin, yanking him forward roughly. He pressed the knife against Dustin's throat.
Mike froze. His heart pounded in his chest.
"Let him go!" Mike shouted.
Troy sneered. "You wanna be a hero? Then jump. Right into the quarry."
Mike's eyes widened. The ledge behind him was high—dangerous. A fall from that height meant serious injury… or worse.
"Troy—" James mumbled nervously. "Maybe don't—"
"Shut up!" Troy snapped.
Mike's hands trembled, but he stepped closer to the edge.
"Mike, don't!" Dustin cried, his voice cracking.
Mike glanced back at his best friend—then at the drop below.
And he jumped.
Time slowed.
He fell, arms flailing, wind whipping past his face—
But he didn't hit the ground.
He stopped. Suspended in midair.
Levitating.
Eleven stepped out of the trees, her hand raised, face set in fierce concentration. Her eyes were dark, focused, intense.
She lowered Mike gently to the ground beside her.
Troy and James turned to run—but not fast enough.
Eleven's head tilted.
CRACK.
Troy screamed in agony as his arm twisted violently at an unnatural angle. The knife clattered to the ground.
James let out a shriek and took off. Troy, howling, stumbled after him.
Dustin rushed to Eleven, wide-eyed. "She's our friend… and she's crazy!"
Mike laughed and pulled her into a hug.
Dustin joined, throwing his arms around both of them.
The three friends stood there, holding on tightly.
Together again. And safe—for now.