Ṫḧë Ṡöüṅḋ öḟ Ṗëṛïḷ (M. Wheeler)

𝑪𝒉. 5 | 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑭𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒅

Hey guys! Here's the first part of episode five! Hope you enjoy!

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"We found them," El said softly.

"Where are they?"

El and Dylan focused on the void scanned the surroundings of Hopper, Joyce, and some other dude—a Russian one? Dylan was getting Russian vibes off of him. Geez, what was with Hawkins and Russians these days?

If only he had time to care enough to figure that out....

"Woods," El replied shortly.

That did nothing to help the imaginations of the four surrounding them. "Woods?" Lucas inquired curiously.

"Somewhere on the outskirts of Indiana," Dylan told them, perturbed at how rough his voice sounded. Clearly it hadn't healed yet since yesterday night, despite Dylan having somewhat of a faster healing rate than normal people. Then again, Billy's grip on his throat was one strong enough to crush a windpipe, so he guessed he was lucky to have just a sore throat.

"Joyce is there too," he added, much to the confusion of the woman's son.

"My-my mom?" He asked, sounding perplexed.

"What're they doing?" Max questioned.

"Ill...annoy," El responded, sounding pout the foreign word. "They're going to Ill-annoy."

Dylan vaguely heard Mike and his mother yelling to one another but didn't care enough to tune in. El took off her blindfold, simultaneously pulling the two of them out of the void. He opened his eyes.

"Illinois?" Mike inquired hastily. "Illinois like the state? The state of Illinois?"

Dylan just sighed as El shrugged helplessly. "Ill-annoy," she repeated, sounding a little loss. Which, of course she was—how was she supposed to know about the state of Illinois?

Dylan looked at Mike with an arched eyebrow. "Unless you know of any other Illinois's that I don't, which, quite frankly, is highly unlikely, I'm pretty sure you can bank on it being the state they're heading to," he told him flatly, moving to get up and wincing while doing so. His muscles hurt from yesterday too.

Mike noticed this and quickly got to his feet. "You okay?" He asked worriedly, moving to help him, "do you need—"

"It's alright, I got it," Max said, blocking Mike's way to Dylan as she went to support him instead. She was still very protective of him and wasn't near ready to forgive Mike for his mistakes. Neither was Dylan, despite what had happened yesterday, but still—it was comforting to know Mike was at least trying.

Mike glared at Max, which she pointedly ignored as she reached out a hand for El. "C'mon, lets go clean you up," she said, leading both El and Dylan towards the bathroom in Mike's basement.

Once she closed the door behind her she quickly started rummaging around for a cloth. Dylan day down on the toilet, watching Max run her newfound cloth underneath the water tap before dabbing the blood away from under El's nostril.

"How's your head?" Dylan asked her, noting the large bruise that El had on her forehead from being knocked it by the barbel. Dylan was sporting one too, but it was a little smaller than the girl's, and a lot less purple.

El shrugged idly. "I get headaches sometimes but it doesn't hurt," she told him. She looked over and her face turned sympathetic. Dylan instantly knew what she was looking at.

His neck—which was plagued with finger-like bruises around it.

He sighed idly. Not the normal type of bruises one usually preferred on their neck.