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Joyce, Jonathan, and Will finally arrived at the Henderson house.
The car rolled to a stop behind Claudia's car, which was already parked neatly in front of the house. The engine died, leaving behind a brief, uneasy silence that seemed to cling to the air a little too long.
Claudia stepped out first.
The Byers family followed shortly after, the gravel crunching softly beneath their shoes as they approached her. Joyce's eyes immediately fell on Claudia, who was already waiting beside her car with her arms loosely folded and her expression tight, as if she had been thinking about this moment the entire drive home.
When they got close enough, Claudia finally spoke.
"Alright… I hope none of you are going to tell anyone about this."
Her tone wasn't harsh but it wasn't casual either. There was weight behind it like her words are absolute and none of them gonna break it.
Joyce and Jonathan exchanged a quick glance. Will, standing slightly behind them, gave a small nod.
"Why?" Joyce asked, her voice cautious.
Claudia didn't answer immediately.
Instead, she turned and began walking around the side of the house, heading toward the backyard. "Because it's already scary enough," she said over her shoulder. "Even I don't like going down there… not after Chris showed me."
That was enough to silence them.
Joyce and Jonathan shared another uncertain look, maybe a little skeptical, but they kept moving. For now, their focus was Will. If this helped him feel heard… if this gave him some peace… then they would follow it through.
Even if they didn't fully believe it.
Claudia led them to the back of the house, where the ground dipped slightly toward a reinforced structure built into the earth.
The root cellar or a storm shelter, meant for tornadoes, harsh weather and other emergencies.
The door was made of thick metal.
And it was locked.
Not just one lock but three heavy chains were wrapped tightly across it, each secured with its own padlock.
Jonathan frowned slightly but Will stared curiously.
Even Joyce couldn't hide the flicker of unease crossing her face.
That wasn't normal.
Claudia stepped forward, pulling out her keys.
A cluster of them jingled in her hand, car keys, house keys… and the keys to this place. Her fingers hesitated for just a fraction of a second before she picked the first one.
"Joyce," Claudia said quietly, without turning around, "maybe it's better if only the two of us that need to go down."
Will immediately frowned, his lips pressing into a pout.
Jonathan shifted slightly, clearly about to object but one look from Joyce stopped him before he could say anything.
"Alright," Joyce agreed.
Claudia began unlocking the chains one by one.
Click.
The first lock dropped.
Click.
The second followed.
The third took slightly longer.
The chains loosened immediately, sliding against the metal door with a heavy, dragging sound that echoed just a little too loudly in the quiet backyard.
Jonathan and Will leaned forward slightly, trying to see inside as Claudia pulled the door open.
From above… nothing seemed out of place. Just darkness and a narrow stairway leading down.
Faint light from the sun barely reached inside, swallowed almost immediately by the shadows below.
Claudia stepped in first.
Joyce paused for a moment, then turned to Jonathan.
"Wait here. Okay?"
Jonathan didn't like it. It was obvious from his expression, but he nodded anyway.
"…Okay."
Will stayed close to him, though his eyes remained fixed on the dark opening as if something down there might suddenly move.
Joyce took a breath… and followed Claudia down.
As Claudia descended the narrow steps, she reached out and pulled the chain hanging from the ceiling.
Click.
A dim, yellowish light flickered to life, and the moment the room was revealed… Joyce froze.
Glass cabinets lined the walls, each one filled…not decorated but stocked. Weapons, neatly arranged, almost obsessively organized. Rifles of various sizes rested in padded mounts, handguns laid out with precision, their metallic surfaces catching the faint light.
It didn't look like storage anymore.
It looked like an armory!
Joyce stepped down the last stair slowly, her eyes scanning the room as her breath caught in her chest.
Bulletproof vests hung along one side, alongside tactical rigs and helmets with clean, intact, ready to be used. Boxes of ammunition were stacked on a wooden table in the center, some already opened, revealing rows of shells and rounds.
It's not look like it's only for defense anymore.
It looks like for war.
"Jesus…" Joyce muttered under her breath, unable to hide the shock in her voice. "Claudia… is your son preparing for a war or something?"
Claudia, already moving toward one of the locked cabinets, didn't even look surprised by the question.
"I don't know," she replied simply, crouching slightly as she sifted through her keys. "He just… likes guns."
There was a soft click as she found the right key.
"And he's good at it too," she added, unlocking the cabinet. "Like, really good. He trained himself. Says he's a pro shooter now." She opened the glass door carefully. "He has licenses for all of this. Everything here is legal."
She paused for a moment, then glanced at Joyce.
"That's why… I'd appreciate it if you don't use this carelessly because this gun is under my son's name."
Joyce nodded, though her attention was still captured by the overwhelming sight in front of her. Some of the weapons, she recognized basic firearms, things she had at least heard of.
"I don't like being down here," Claudia admitted quietly, her voice softer now as she reached inside the cabinet. "It feels… wrong. Like everything in this room is waiting for something bad to happen."
She hesitated briefly.
Then her expression shifted.
"…But," she continued, a small, genuine smile forming on her lips, "the fact that my son trusted me enough to show me this place… that means something."
She pulled out a Remington 870 shotgun, holding it with familiarity but not comfort like she just wanna pass this gun immediately.
Joyce raised an eyebrow slightly at the sight, but still reached out, taking the shotgun carefully into her hands. The weight surprised her.
Claudia grabbed a box of shotgun shells and handed it over.
"So when my son talks about mons… 'animals'…" Claudia said with correction. "I don't believe in those things."
She met Joyce's eyes. "But I believe him."
A brief pause.
"I trust my son," she added firmly. "Not the 'animal.' That's a different thing after all."
Joyce stood there for a moment, holding the shotgun, processing those words.
Because that… that changed something.
She didn't suddenly believe in monsters…. but she believed Will.
And right now…that was enough.
Her grip on the weapon tightened slightly, her posture shifting and more alert, more aware.
More ready to fight whatever it is that bothering her son.
"Yes… I understand," Joyce said quietly, giving a small nod.
Claudia watched her for a second… then gave a faint nod of her own.
Satisfied by Joyce's determination now.
She closed the cabinet, locking it again with a soft click, before reaching up and pulling the light chain once more.
Click.
Darkness swallowed the room again.
Only the faint outline of the stairway remained, illuminated by the light from above.
"Let's go," Claudia said and together they headed back up.
Will's eyes immediately locked onto the shotgun in Joyce's hands the moment she stepped out into the daylight.
Will's eyes widened with a clear recognition. "That's… that's the gun!" Will said quickly, stepping a little closer. "That's the one Chris used to shoot the mon-." he stopped himself, correcting, "..--the animal!"
There it was again he's saying that word, but this time, he didn't sound as scared.
Joyce noticed it instantly.
And for the first time since everything happened… she saw it.
A spark.
A small piece of light returning to her son's eyes.
She lifted the shotgun slightly, adjusting her grip, and with a faint, determined smile, she straightened her posture, playing into it.
"Don't worry, Will," she said, her tone firm, almost playful in its confidence. "If that animal shows up again…"
She gave a small nod and cocking the shotgun.
"I'll shoot it."
A tiny beat.
".... And I won't miss."
Will let out a soft laugh, genuine this time. Not forced and nervous.
It was a small expression but it was real. He's happy and safe and that alone made everything worth it.
Jonathan, however, remained quiet. His eyes lingered on the shotgun for a second longer than necessary.
Not impressed, not even reassured, he's just… concerned.
Because no matter how you looked at it, a gun was still a gun.
And he didn't like the idea of it being anywhere near Will.
The moment passed quickly.
They loaded the empty shotgun and the box of shells into the trunk, shutting it with a dull thud.
And not long after, the Byers family drove back home. Back to something that was supposed to feel normal.
Claudia stayed behind for a little moment.
Standing in front of her house, she watched the car disappear down the road, her arms slowly folding across her chest.
The yard was quiet again.
Her gaze lingered for a few seconds longer… before she exhaled softly.
"…Chris…" she muttered under her breath.
Then she turned, locking the cellar root again like before and headed back to the hospital.
Because whatever was coming, her son was still in the middle of it.
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Hopper returned to the hospital faster than he expected. The moment he heard Chris was awake, he didn't bother stopping by the receptionist.
He went straight to the room.
No knock or hesitation.
The door opened and inside, only Dustin and Chris were there.
"Where's your mother?" Hopper asked immediately as he stepped in. He didn't even need to give some warm greetings.
"She went home," Dustin replied shortly, barely sparing him a glance before turning back to the TV.
Hopper pulled a chair closer and sat beside Chris, studying him for a moment.
"How're you holding up, kid?"
Chris shifted slightly on the bed, wincing just a little before smirking. "My back's itchy, Chief."
Hopper didn't even blink.
"That's good."
The joke died instantly.
Chris let out a quiet breath through his nose.
Right…. Old timer with zero humor.
"Kid," Hopper continued, already pulling out his small notebook, "do you remember what happened last night?"
Chris didn't hesitate. "Animal attack, Chief. Nothing to worry about."
Exactly what Hopper wanted to hear.
And yet…. it didn't sit right.
Hopper leaned back slightly in his chair, eyes still locked on Chris.
If he wrote it down like that, the case would be closed. Simple and clean. Hawkins stays quiet.
Safe, he would go home and give his eyes a beautiful sleep.
….So why did it feel wrong?
"Then why wasn't there any blood?" Hopper asked, his tone sharpening just a bit. "We found… this sticky, glue-like stuff on the road. What the hell was that?"
Chris met his gaze without flinching.
"I don't know," he said calmly. "Maybe… bear guts or something."
A silence follows for a second longer before Hopper leaned forward this time, elbows resting on his knees, his presence heavier now.
Pressing him with his authority, or maybe his experience to give pressure to people.
"You see, kid…" Hopper said quietly, voice lowering, "I know you're lying to me."
The room felt smaller.
"I know you're hiding something."
He tilted his head slightly, trying to be sarcastic.
"What? You gonna tell me it was a monster this time?"
Dustin's eyes narrowed slightly at that, glancing between the two of them. He didn't speak, but he was listening to everything they said. His TV has already become background noise now.
Chris didn't look away.
"Yes, Chief," he said.
Calm and serious. "It was a monster attack."
A little pause to sink in. "...But you can report it as an animal attack."
Hopper leaned back again, exhaling sharply before snapping his notebook shut.
"Why should I believe you?" he shot back. "I saw the place you hang around in. That garage, those people."
His eyes hardened slightly.
"They don't exactly look like good company."
Chris's expression changed instantly.
Not fear or hesitation like before, but he takes that as an offense.
"Really?" Chris said, his voice tightening just a little. "You're calling them dangerous just because of how they look?"
He stared straight at Hopper now. "What about me?" He said, giving him sarcastic words, "I had guns in my saddlebag that night."
Then he smirks to him while lightly tilting his head, "Does that make me dangerous too?"
His voice dropped slightly. "Even after I used my body to protect Will?"
He kept his gaze on Hopper without blinking, trying to make a point right now.
Hopper didn't answer right away, because the truth was….he didn't believe those guys were dangerous.
Rough? Sure.
Loud, defensive? Yeah.
But the way they reacted when he showed up in uniform… the way they stood their ground and like protecting Chris.
That wasn't criminal. That was loyalty. And Chris defending them now?
That only confirmed it.
Hopper exhaled quietly. "…Alright, kid," he said, shifting slightly in his chair. "Let's say I do believe you."
His tone turned dry. "You're telling me this was a monster attack."
He gave a small, almost humorless scoff.
"How the hell am I supposed to believe that?"
Chris was quiet for a moment, before his voice filled the room quietly.
"…Tonight."
Hopper frowned slightly.
"...Or tomorrow," Chris added softly. "Just wait."
Now both Hopper and Dustin looked at him with confusion and a little uneasy.
But Chris… Chris wasn't looking at them anymore. There was something else behind his eyes now.
Something heavier.
Maybe it's guilt.
Or maybe it's a regret.
A quiet apology that never left his lips.
If it wasn't Will…
….Then who?
Slowly… Chris turned his gaze toward Dustin.
Dustin blinked, caught off guard. "…What?" he asked, frowning slightly.
Chris didn't answer.
Because deep down…. he had already made up his mind.