𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝟮𝟬. 𝘼 𝙉𝙚𝙬 𝘽𝙚𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜

𝘼 𝙉𝙚𝙬 𝘽𝙚𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜

The walkie-talkie crackled inside Hopper's jacket pocket, at first a faint hiss, then a distorted burst of static that sharpened into a voice.

"Chief, are you there? Chief, do you copy?"

The three of them froze. Erin's pulse hammered against her ribs. Hopper snatched the radio, lifting it to his lips.

"Yeah," he said, breath rough from their climb. "I copy."

Erin barely heard him. Her eyes were locked on the breach yawning open at the far end of the ruined lab. The Gate. A wound carved straight through reality, bleeding reddish-orange light that pulsed like a heartbeat. That was where the creatures came from. That was the other world, The Upside Down.

"Close it," came the voice through the radio. Firm. Urgent. Final.

Erin inhaled shakily. She tore her gaze away from the living fissure and glanced at Eleven beside her. The girl's eyes were narrowed, jaw tight, as though she were listening to something only she could hear.

The order could only mean one thing: Will was free. The shadow, the thing inside him, must have been purged. Which meant the burden now shifted to them. It was their turn to finish this.

A silent understanding passed between Hopper, Eleven, and Erin, one look, shared tension, shared resolve.

Hopper moved first. He strode across the platform to a metal control panel, yanked down a lever, and with a shrill mechanical groan a narrow steel gondola descended from the ceiling. It looked ancient, rusted, the kind of equipment Erin wouldn't trust to lift a stack of books, let alone three people. But they had no choice.

"Up," Hopper ordered.

The girls climbed in. Erin's hands trembled slightly around the cold railing as the sheriff stepped in after them and slammed a second lever upward. The gondola rattled violently, then began to rise toward the Gate.

And from this close... it was so much worse.

The light poured out in waves, thick and unnatural, staining the air in molten red. Enormous root-like tendrils curled around its edges, shifting, tightening, slithering over each other like a living barricade. They writhed as if disturbed by their presence, making soft, organic sounds that set Erin's teeth on edge.

She had seen impossible things tonight, but this... this defied every boundary of reality she'd ever known.

Eleven had to close that.

No matter what it cost.

Erin swallowed hard, her throat dry. The revolver in her hands felt pitiful, like a child's toy in the face of something ancient, something colossal. She wasn't Eleven. She didn't have her powers. She couldn't do anything but shoot blindly and hope.

A flurry of white particles drifted down across her face, cold, like ashes. Erin wiped them away with the back of her hand.

Eleven turned to her.

Erin met her gaze. A faint nod. A silent I'm here.

Eleven faced the Gate again and lifted her hand.

A deep vibration rippled through the air. The Gate shuddered. Erin felt the sound in her bones, a low, humming pressure that froze her blood.

Eleven felt it too. Her fingers twitched. Her breath hitched.

And then Erin saw it.

A shadow behind the glow. Immense. Moving.

A massive limb, a curling expanse of darkness, crawling closer from the other side. The Mind Flayer, aware of them. Aware of her. Aware of what she was trying to do.

But Eleven didn't back down. She clenched her jaw, planted her feet, and pushed harder.

"You got this," Erin murmured, forcing her voice to stay steady over the rising tremors. "Remember what Kali told you. Your emotions are a force, use them."

Eleven drew in a sharp breath and closed her eyes. Her face twisted, not in fear, but in focus. In determination. She called on every memory, every wound, every connection.

Slowly, painfully, the Gate began to shrink.

Hopper noticed it too. "It's working," he breathed.

But then a scraping sound rose from below.

Hopper suddenly leaned over the side, weapon raised.

"Careful," he warned.

Erin pivoted just as a creature lunged for the gondola rail.

A gunshot exploded beside her. Hopper's bullet punched straight through the demo-dog's skull. It collapsed instantly, its weight dragging it off the gondola and into the darkness below.

More screeches. Many more.

Erin spun, raising her revolver as another monster clawed its way up the wall. She fired twice, each shot precise and the creature crumpled. A third round to the head sent it falling limp.

She had never been more grateful for Axel's shooting lessons.

But the attack didn't stop. The demo-dogs poured in from every direction, scrambling along the concrete walls, leaping between cables, climbing the metal supports. Too fast. Too many.

Hopper emptied his clip first. He cursed, tossed the gun aside, and grabbed his backup weapon.

Erin didn't pause to think, just shot, reloaded, shot again. Her hands shook from the recoil, from adrenaline, from the knowledge that one mistake meant all three of them would be dragged down and torn apart.

She didn't notice at first that Eleven had risen off the floor, her feet no longer touching metal. Her body floated upward, suspended in the air like a marionette held by invisible strings, blood dripping from her nose.

Erin's final shot echoed through the chamber.

Click.

Empty.

The monstrous screeches closed in. Claws scraped metal. Breath hissed behind her. Erin's heart slammed against her ribs, she had nothing left. No bullets, no backup...

But, suddenly the red glow vanished.

The world fell into darkness.

Erin's breath caught in her throat. For one second, nothing moved except her pounding heart.

A thud behind her.

"El?" Hopper gasped, arms already reaching.

The Gate was gone.

Eleven collapsed into Hopper's arms, limp, trembling, gasping for air.

And all around them, the demo-dogs fell dead, dropping from walls, ceilings, platforms, lifeless bodies raining down like grotesque puppets whose strings had been severed.

Erin lowered her useless weapon, chest heaving, muscles quivering. Relief crashed into her so hard she nearly sank to her knees.

Hopper held Eleven close, one hand steadying her head. 

"You did good, kid," he whispered, voice breaking with emotion. "You did so good."

Eleven could barely breathe, chest rising and falling in painful shudders.

But she was alive. The Gate was closed.And the monsters were gone.

- ⏳ONE MONTH LATER⏳-

Erin was still learning how to exist inside this new life, this life that didn't quite feel like hers, not yet. It clung to her like a coat borrowed from someone else: warm, protective, but unfamiliar at the seams.

Her arrival in Hawkins had been chaotic at best, violent at worst. And yet somehow, in the middle of all the noise and terror, Hopper had taken her in. The same way he had taken Eleven. As if he made a habit of collecting broken birds and convincing them they could fly again.

She hadn't protested. Not really. There was nowhere else to go, no path to retreat to. So she let herself be carried by the momentum, by the strange gravity of this man and this girl who had opened their door to her.

The cabin they now shared sat deep in the woods, isolated enough that the silence at night felt almost heavy. It was rustic, creaking floors, thin walls, mismatched furniture, but comforting in a way Erin didn't expect. Eleven had insisted she share her room at first, and for several nights they slept together in the same bed, shoulder to shoulder, until Hopper showed up one evening with a second frame, a second mattress, a second set of blankets just for her.

It was small, uneven, not quite soft but it was hers.

Here, maybe, she could belong. Here, maybe, she could be understood. A family, El said the word easily, like it had always been waiting for them.

But families required trust. Openness. And that part was harder.

Erin didn't know how to talk about herself. About her past. About the parts of her that still burned or bled. So instead she offered Hopper the only thing she had ever considered truly hers: her notebook. A faded, worn journal Kali had given her years ago. Inside were memories, drawings, dates, names, her real life, the one she didn't know how to say aloud.

Hopper had asked permission to read it. She had given it. It was easier that way.

"Who is Estelle Moore?" he asked quietly one night, long after Eleven had fallen asleep in the room.

Erin hesitated, fingers curled around the mug of tea warming her palms. 

"She's my mom," she murmured. "Kali found her a year after we escaped the lab. We were looking for our family... trying to go home."

Hopper didn't interrupt. He just listened, leaning back in the armchair, weathered hands folded together.

"We found her listed in a registry in a small town in Georgia." Erin's voice slipped, small and thin. "She died ten years ago."

A heavy silence settled between them. Hopper's jaw shifted, eyes softening.

"I'm sorry you had to go through all that on your own," he said, voice low, genuine.

Erin lifted her gaze to him. She didn't know how to respond, all the usual words felt wrong on her tongue. But the softness in his voice lingered in the air long after the conversation ended, and in the weeks that followed she let herself consider something she had never dared to before:

Maybe she wouldn't have to be alone again. Not here. Not with them.

One afternoon, after they'd eaten, Hopper stepped out for a few hours, leaving the two girls in the cabin. Erin and Eleven ended up curled on the couch, watching an old crime show that flickered through static every few minutes. It had become a small ritual between them, quiet, simple, predictable.

The door finally opened just as the sky outside darkened. Hopper entered, brushing the cold off his jacket and calling the girls to join him at the table. They exchanged a glance, muted curiosity sparking between them, then turned off the television and sat down.

Hopper shrugged off his coat and hung it on the rack by the door. From its pocket he retrieved an envelope and placed it on the table between them.

"So," he said, clearing his throat. "You know I've been talking with Dr. Owens since he got out of the hospital."

Eleven nodded, a little tense.

"Well," Hopper continued, pushing the envelope slightly closer, "I had a meeting with him earlier, and he gave me this for you."

Both girls stared. Erin blinked. 

"For us?" she asked, unsure.

Hopper nodded again as Eleven picked up the envelope, tearing the seal carefully.

"It doesn't mean we stop being careful," Hopper warned. "Or that the rules don't apply anymore. But it's a beginning. A new one, for all three of us."

Inside were two documents. Eleven unfolded them, breath catching as she recognized the words. Birth certificates.

"Jane Hopper," she whispered, fingers trembling.

She lifted the second page and passed it toward Erin.

Erin's chest tightened. Her name, Erin Moore, printed clearly, officially, as if it had always belonged there.

Moore.

Her mother's name. The only piece of her past she still carried like a lifeline. Erin stared at the letters, fighting the sudden swell of emotion clogging her throat.

Hopper noticed. Of course he did.

"I thought you'd like keeping your name," he said softly.

A small, genuine smile tugged at Erin's lips. She looked up at him, the paper still held delicately in her hands.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"It doesn't make you any less a member of the family," Hopper added gently.

Erin nodded, unable to speak. She didn't need to.

Because she knew.

She was home.

Thank you so much for reading this far! 🎡

And that's a wrap on this volume of Let Down! I hope you guys had as much fun reading it as I had writing it.

 And before you shout at me : yes, the epilogue is on its way, and yes, it takes place at the Snow Ball. And maaaybe... James and Erin will finally meet for real. 

Who knows?