Ally Harrington, the adoptive little sister of the famous Steve Harrington, wasn't anything like her brother.
Other than the small tattoo on her wrist that she'd somehow managed to hide since the day she was adopted, unlike Steve, Ally was not at al...
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"I think he's talking, just not with words," Hopper stated, striding into the Byers' kitchen.
Ally trailed behind him, an arm slung around Mike's shoulders for support.
Everyone gathered around the table, peering over Hopper's shoulder as he wrote out a sequence of dots and dashes onto a piece of paper.
"Wait, what is that?" Steve questioned.
"Morse Code," the entire room chorused.
Ally gave Steve a funny look and leaned closer to the boy so that no one else would hear her speak.
"How did you not know that? We've been using it the whole year to send messages to the cabin," Ally reminded.
"I don't know, you always sent the messages!" Steve stressed defensively.
"H-E-R-E," Hopper translated.
"Here," the kids read simultaneously.
"Whatever you did worked," Hopper told Ally, "Will's still in there. He's talking to us,"
They knew what they had to do.
♛
After devising a plan, the team set off to put it in motion. Ally grabbed the last mixtape she'd given to Will while Jonathan grabbed his boom box.
Should I Stay Or Should I Go by The Clash blared through the speakers, filling the little shed. And one by one, Joyce, Jonathan, Mike and Ally would each have a turn to speak to Will and try to get through to him.
Ally let the others go first, giving her a chance to anxiously nibble on one of Dustin's Three Musketeers bars as she mulled over a particular idea in her head. If she were to say what she wanted to, it could change things. Saying this out loud... would make it real. And that scared Ally more than the prospect of fighting an army of blood-thirsty beasts.
When it was her turn, the others gathered in the corner of the shed to give her some space to try and get to Will.
Ally inhaled deeply and sat down in front of him. The first thing she noticed were his eyes. They were no longer the usual hazel green-brown colour that she had grown so fond of. Instead, they were a cold, dark brown. They were unrecognisable.
