Currently we are at Mike's home, here, Eleven sat on the couch in the basement while Lucas, Mike, Dustin me and Mike stood around here while Lucas was asking Mike what to do with the situation.
The whole conversation was going the same way as the original show, because I didn't include myself in this.Â
đź‚ą Third POV đź‚ą
Down in the basement, chaotic energy hummed as the boys crowded around Eleven, each of them firing questions as if the answers might suddenly explain it all.
"Is there a number we can call? For your parents?" Mike leaned forward, his eyes full of hope.
Eleven just stared, silent and shivering.
Evan stood a little behind Mike, watching her with a quiet, uneasy focus. He knew exactly why she wasn't answering-knew too much, actually-but he couldn't say a word without sounding insane. So he stayed close, ready to step in if things went too far.
"Where's your hair? Do you have cancer?" Dustin blurted out.
"Did you run away? Are you in some kind of trouble?" Lucas added, already suspicious.
Lucas pointed to the stain on her shirt.
"Is that blood?"
Before she could react, Lucas reached toward her. Eleven recoiled sharply.
Mike slapped Lucas' hand away.
"Stop it! You are freaking her out!"
"She's freaking me out!" Lucas shot back.
"I bet she's deaf," Dustin replied.
And before anyone could send him a warning look, Dustin clapped his hands together right in front of her face.
Eleven sat up with a jolt.
"Not deaf," Dustin said proudly, confirming.
Evan facepalmed. "Dude… seriously?
"All right, that's enough, okay? She's just scared and cold!" Mike insisted.
He hastily went to a laundry basket and retrieved dry clothes from it.
"Here, these are clean. Okay?"
Eleven took the clothes, demurred a bare second… and began to hoist her shirt right there, to change.
All four boys froze.
"NO! No-no-no-no!" they yelped, arms flying up over their eyes.
"Oh my GOD," Dustin squeaked.
Evan spun around so fast he hit his shoulder on a workbench. "Ow—okay, yeah, bathroom! Bathroom!"
With a deft, gentle movement, Mike turned her around and nodded toward a small door.
"See over there? That's the bathroom. Privacy. Get it?"
Eleven stared, confused. She didn't move.
Mike let out a deep sigh and escorted her over, leaving the door open a crack.
"You don't want it closed?" he said.
She whispered, "No.
"Oh, so you can speak." Mike blinked. "Okay. Keep it like this then. Better?
"Yes."
Mike made his way back to his friends, who all had their special look of being overwhelmed.
"This is mental," Dustin muttered.
"At least she can talk," Mike pointed out.
Lucas snorted. "She said 'no' and 'yes.' Mike, your three-year-old sister says more."
"She tried to get naked!" Dustin added. "Something's really wrong with her. Like, wrong in the head."
Evan shook his head. "She's traumatised, dude. There's a difference."
Lucas crossed his arms. "I bet she came from Pennhurst asylum."
"From where?" Mike asked.
"The nuthouse in Kerley County."
Dustin turned to Lucas. "You got a lot of family there?"
"Bite me," Lucas snapped.
Mike made them promise not to say anything to his mom, and Lucas promptly disagreed while Evan said nothing, his body rigid; Dustin fidgeted about.
"If we tell your mom, she'll call the cops," Lucas warned.
"And we'll never find Will," Mike said, the finality in his voice shutting the whole argument down.
Evan nodded solemnly. "Mike's right. Adults will freak out. And Will needs us."
He had a plan: Eleven was sleeping in the basement tonight. Tomorrow, she'd pose as a runaway in need of some aid.
The room dimmed later, and Mike started building a small fort of pillows for El. Dustin watched with a flair for the dramatic. Lucas kept his distance. Evan helped silently, offering Mike pillows and a thin blanket.
When the fort was complete, Eleven crawled inside, small and fragile in the soft light of the lamp.
After that, Evan, Lucas and Dustin went home because it was way too late.
Mike sat beside the fort, in an awkward yet gentle manner.
"Ah, hey… never did catch your name," Mike said.
Eleven hesitated. Then she raised her arm, the sleeve falling to reveal the tattoo: 011.
Mike reached forward and hunched over.
"Is that real?"
He reached out, but she pulled away.
"Sorry. Just never seen a kid with a tattoo before. What does it mean? Eleven?"
Eleven tapped her chest.
"That's your name, Eleven?" Mike asked.
She nodded. Mike smiled a little. "Okay. Well, my name's Mike. Short for Michael." He thought for a second. "Maybe we can call you El. Short for Eleven." A small smile etched onto her face-smaller, shier, but real. "Night, El," Mike said softly. "Night, Mike," she replied.
-------------------------------------
So, how are you guys liking it so far?
If you're enjoying it, please leave some reviews, comments, longer thoughts or paragraph comments, and don't forget to send some power stones.
If you're not enjoying it, let me know where I can improve—and still send me some stones.
P.S: The MC won't interfere with the main plot until chapter 14.
----------------------------------------
Number of Chapters in P@treon: 16
[email protected]/Micheal210
Read now