How To Make Plans | Step 5: Quit the Chit-Chat! | Stranger Things 4.5

They're tired, overwhelmed, and closer to giving up for tonight than they want to admit. But when an unexpected memory resurfaces, Dustin Henderson's notes offer the first real glimpse into what the military has been hiding. 

Finally, the Party have a lead they can grasp... Even if the newfound piece to the puzzle is more than a little worrying.

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WSQK "The Squawk"
Hawkins, Indiana
SUNDAY – May 4, 1986
~ 8:30 PM

Steve Harrington

[...]

You could tell Hopper was trying to regain control of himself as he strode back toward the others. His expression was stern, but he raised an eyebrow as everyone stared at him, watching him and Billy as if they were some kind of ghosts.

“I let him live…”

He growled and slammed his fist on the table.

“We’ve been tossing around a lot of ideas today… and some of them are starting to take shape. Will… I’ll handle the conversation with your mother… you know how protective she is… I think I’ll be able to convey the whole thing to her as harmlessly as possible… first I’ll probably have to apologize anyway for not including her in this conversation… but oh well. Women, you know…”

A brief grin, then Hopper grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge… no beer, he wanted to stay sober. Steve approached Billy, but didn’t ask him anything; it was enough just to look at the other man to know that nothing had escalated.

“Dustin checked in briefly… he seems okay.”

He let him know.

“Are you okay, too?”

Was the only question he couldn’t help asking.

Billy Hargrove

[...]

Back inside, Billy immediately softened when he spotted Steve and gave him a gentle smile across the room. From where he was standing, it was clear he had been watching them outside. Billy usually didn't like being watched. This time, he didn't mind. It even felt... reassuring somehow. 

Will grinned a bit at Hop's words about his mom. "She'll come around, don't worry. I mean, I told her we'd meet here, but if she's busy elsewhere..."

Steve walked up to Billy, who turned towards him instantly. He registered the news about Dustin's whereabouts with a somewhat relieved sigh.

"Good to know. He probably just got caught up in the rain."

His eyes still tingled slightly with redness, but the smile on his face was real. And Steve had seen him cry often enough to know that this wasn't caused by simple exhaustion.

"Yeah, I'm… I'm okay," he mused. "I mean, my hair looks like complete shit thanks to the rain, but there are worse things."

Billy looked up at him, really looked. Steve had tired eyes, too. Not from crying, but from barely having slept. From the ache and pressure in his nose, no matter how much he denied being in pain.

"And you…? You got your painkillers with you, right?"

"If you do, can I have one, please?" Robin chimed from her seat on the couch, one hand raised for attention, the other massaging her temple.

Will sighed and shifted in her seat. "Hop, shouldn't we call it quits for today? It's getting late, El is really exhausted—"
"I'm fine," Eleven interrupted.
"... and we've already come up with a lot, right? Maybe we should let it sit and wait for more ideas. And... developments," he added.
"Yeah," Robin agreed, her voice sluggish from her headache. "Without Dustin here, we're really stuck."

Billy froze.

Dustin.

There had been something tickling in the nose of his memories ever since the kid's name had been mentioned, but the sneeze never came. It was annoying. Then, he felt the pressure of folded paper in the back pocket of his jeans.

"He is here," he announced, pulled it free, and unfolded it with growing urgency. After their argument at Eddie's memorial, Dustin had pressed the notes he'd taken the night before at the MAC-Z into Billy's hand, hoping that anything he'd written down might help the group. Billy spread the page across the table.

The others immediately gathered around, leaning in over his shoulders. All except for El and Robin, who remained on the couch.

Dustin had drawn a map, too.

At first glance, it looked remarkably similar to Billy's own, but it was crowded with handwritten observations, theories, arrows, and hastily scribbled questions. Billy scanned the page, his eyes darting from one note to the next... until they glued on a single memo.

It was larger than the rest. And no less baffling.

N₂ tanks?! what for ?

"Nz? What's Nz?" Billy asked, nose wrinkling in confusion.
"Hang on, let me see," Will interrupted, peering over the table. "Oh, it's not Nz, it's N₂! That's the chemical formula for... What was it again?"

"Nitrogen," Lucas answered, arms crossed.
"I think he spotted a whole bunch of them around here." Will pointed at a large circle on Dustin's map. Billy's brows furrowed.

"That's... a pretty big area. What do the military need that much nitrogen for?" he wondered.

Robin's eyes lit up despite the lingering headache. A grin spread across her face as she sprang off the couch.

"Well..." she said brightly, hurrying behind Hopper before planting both hands on his shoulders. "We've got someone here who used to be in the Army and would know exactly that, don't we?"

Steve Harrington

Summary ...

When the door was finally opened and damp, cold air poured into the room, Steve turned away from the window far too quickly, as if he hadn’t been standing there the whole time, waiting for her to return. Hopper stepped in first, brushing the rainwater from his hair, which had already grown longer again, with one hand and pulling the door wider as his gaze swept over those present. His face had hardened once more into that serious, slightly irritated expression he probably put on first thing in the morning, before he even knew what he was going to get worked up about that day. Still, it didn’t seem quite as convincing as usual. His eyes were still bloodshot, the skin beneath them dark, and when his gaze drifted back to Billy for a moment, there was none of the sharpness with which he’d looked at him earlier. Hopper simply moved further into the room, as if not a single personal word had been spoken outside, as if he hadn’t revealed a part of himself that he usually hid behind his shouting.

“I let him live,” he growled when he noticed how many pairs of eyes were now fixed on them, and slammed a hand down on the table, not particularly hard, but loud enough to break the silence. “Before anyone else here sends out a damn search party.”

Steve’s mouth twisted into a brief grin, even though he felt uncomfortably caught out by that remark. He probably would have gone out, in fact, if the two of them had taken any longer. Not right away, of course. He would have first convinced himself that he needed to give them space, then waited another five minutes, and finally come up with some ridiculous excuse as to why he, quite by chance, also needed some fresh air. When Billy walked into the room, Steve’s gaze immediately locked onto him. He didn’t ask what had happened outside. He saw the reddened eyes, the damp hair, the facial features that hadn’t quite returned to the expression behind which Billy usually hid everything, and knew that any direct question would only unnecessarily lay the moment bare in front of everyone else. So he simply walked toward him, slowly enough not to make him feel immediately cornered, stopped right in front of him, and told him that Dustin had checked in briefly over the radio. That was all that was needed for now. At least, that’s what Steve tried to convince himself of as he continued to look at Billy, all the while still feeling the warmth of the kiss on his cheek, even though it must have long since faded.

“He sounded like Henderson,” he explained, his gaze briefly drifting to the turned-off radio. “Loud, indignant, and convinced that we basically only understand the most trivial parts of what he says. I think he’s fine.”

The question of whether everything was all right with Billy, too, slipped out anyway. Of course it did, Steve had never been particularly good at worrying about someone without eventually turning it into a full-blown interrogation. This time, however, he left it at those few words, didn’t step back again, and simply waited while Hopper walked over to the refrigerator. The chief reached for a bottle of water, though Steve saw clearly how his gaze had lingered on something else for a moment longer beforehand. Beer probably would have been easier, but he took the water anyway, unscrewed the cap, and drank nearly half the bottle in one gulp.

Lucas was still sitting near the radio, giving nothing away outwardly. He glanced briefly at Hopper, then at Billy, and finally back down at his hands, which hung loosely between his knees. He’d resolved not to start any more arguments, and so far he’d stuck to it. That didn’t mean, however, that everything had been forgotten. Billy could talk to Hopper, help Dustin, want to protect El, and make Steve completely forget the rest of the room with a single glance, none of that automatically erased what Lucas himself had experienced, seen, and learned about Max. For him, trust wasn’t a decision you made in a single evening just because everyone else suddenly believed they’d discovered a side of Billy that had previously been hidden. Still, he didn’t let on. When Steve looked at him for a moment, Lucas merely lifted his chin slightly, as if to assure him wordlessly that he’d pull himself together. That would have to be enough for today. Hopper set the water bottle down on the table and ran his flat hand over the plans spread out on it, without really organizing anything. “We’ve thrown enough ideas out there today to probably trigger three different disasters,” he began, his voice sounding firmer again. “A few of them are still useful, though. Will, I’ll handle the part about your mom. I’ll explain to her what’s going on here before she finds out that we held a meeting about El, Henry, the military, and a possible infiltration without including her.” He grimaced, as if he’d only just realized at that moment how little joy Joyce would take in that. “I’ll probably have to apologize first... then she’ll yell at me... after that, she’ll ask again if I’ve completely lost my mind, and at some point we might be able to talk about the actual plan.”

A weary grin flashed across Steve’s face, but it vanished again when he saw how exhausted El now looked and how Robin was pressing a hand against her temple. Even Hopper now seemed to realize that the past few hours had taken a greater toll on all of them than anyone was willing to admit. Steve himself had barely slept. The wound on his face was now throbbing again with every heartbeat, his eyes were burning, and his body felt as if he’d spent the last few days not in a bed, but curled up in the trunk of a moving car. Still, he didn’t want to end the meeting as long as there was still something unresolved. Perhaps that had long since become a kind of compulsion. As long as they talked, made plans, and drew arrows on maps, they were at least doing something. As soon as they stopped, all that remained was the certainty that Henry was still out there somewhere and that Kay still had enough power to pit Billy, Max, and presumably everyone else here against one another.

Steve fumbled in his jacket pocket for the painkillers, set one down, and kept a second for himself. Before he took it, the mention of Dustin made him look at the radio again. Lucas had turned it off after the static had given El and Robin headaches, but he was still sitting close enough to it as if Henderson’s voice might burst out of the silent device at any moment without warning. When the folded piece of paper was finally unfolded on the table, Steve automatically moved closer. He rested both hands on the edge of the table and leaned over it, though at first he had no idea what to look for. Dustin’s notes looked as if someone had tried, during an earthquake, to draw a map, write a scientific paper, and squeeze several adult insults into the margins all at the same time. Arrows crisscrossed, certain spots were circled multiple times, and in some places Henderson had apparently pressed so hard that the pen had nearly pierced the paper. Steve narrowed his eyes, tilted his head slightly to the side, and tried to make sense of the tiny letters.

“Did he write this in the dark, or has his handwriting simply given out completely by now?”

Lucas had also come closer, but stopped on the other side of the table and crossed his arms over his chest. His gaze followed the lines much faster than Steve’s, which Steve initially ignored. He found a circle, two question marks, something that could be either a rough sketch of a building or an insultingly bad drawing of a dog, and finally the larger note in the middle. When it was explained that it didn’t say NZ but N2, Steve nodded at first, as if that had answered all his questions. Two seconds later, he looked back at the map.

“Yeah. Of course. N2.” He was silent for a moment. “And that’s…?”

“Nitrogen,” Lucas hissed, without looking at him either. He didn’t say it condescendingly, but Steve could still detect that tiny bit of smugness the boy always displayed whenever he knew something Steve didn’t.

“I knew that,” Steve claimed immediately. “I just wanted to check if you knew it.”

Lucas’s mouth twisted almost imperceptibly, but then he, too, leaned a little closer to the map. His finger didn’t touch the paper; it just hovered over the large mark that Will had already pointed out. The circle didn’t enclose a single room or a small warehouse. Dustin had marked a significant portion of the site and drawn several rough lines that presumably indicated the locations of the tanks. Even if only half of them were correct, there were too many. Lucas had heard enough in science class to know that nitrogen was found everywhere and used for various purposes, but no one would store vast quantities of it in a military-secured area without a reason.

“These aren’t just a few bottles, Dustin has marked the entire area. Either the tanks are located in multiple places, or he saw them being brought there.”

His voice sounded matter-of-fact, his gaze remained fixed on the map. Lucas deliberately avoided looking over at Billy, even though he was aware of how close Steve was still standing to him. He didn’t want his mistrust to become the main topic of the evening again, not now that they finally had something on their hands that might actually be important. So he focused on the numbers, the positions, and Dustin’s much-too-large handwriting, while leaving everything else where no one could see it. Steve followed the drawn lines with his eyes, but still didn’t understand what was so dangerous about them. At first, nitrogen didn’t sound like a weapon to him. More like something that sat around in a lab while men in white lab coats used words that made Dustin nod enthusiastically and Steve eventually pretend he had to use the restroom urgently. Still, he’d learned over the past year that any seemingly harmless thing in Hawkins could turn into a damn nightmare within minutes.

“All right,” he muttered, straightening up slightly. “Why is the Army bringing enough nitrogen to supply an entire small town?”

When Robin Hopper practically steered her way toward the table, the Chief initially gave her that look that was usually enough to make grown men reconsider their last five decisions. However, he didn’t immediately shake her hands off his shoulders; instead, he let her push him one step closer before setting the water bottle aside and leaning over the map. He didn’t seem to particularly like the remark about his time in the Army. Not because it was wrong, but because every detail from that period brought up things he was reluctant to talk about. Vietnam had been years ago, and yet it sometimes felt closer than New York, Russia, or anything that had happened in Hawkins. Jim picked up a corner of Dustin’s note, pulled it slightly toward him, and studied the markings long enough for the last vestige of lightheartedness to vanish from the room. His gaze wandered from one marked tank to the next, then to the buildings, and finally to the large circle.

“Nitrogen alone isn’t a bomb,” he said finally, without looking up. “Before anyone here starts panicking again. That stuff doesn’t burn or just explode because you look at it the wrong way.” Steve exhaled almost imperceptibly, but Hopper wasn’t finished yet. You could already tell that from his voice. “But you don’t store it in such large quantities just to keep a few groceries cold. When the tanks are filled with liquid nitrogen, we’re talking about extreme cold. Cold enough to make materials brittle, damage pipes in seconds, or cool something down very quickly. In its gaseous form, it can displace oxygen from an enclosed space. You might not even notice what’s happening. You’ll get tired, feel dizzy, and eventually collapse.” Steve’s relief lasted about three seconds. His gaze returned to the circle on the map, and suddenly the marked area no longer seemed just large, but far too enclosed. He thought of tunnels, underground chambers, gates, and how easily something invisible could be distributed through a ventilation system.

“That means they could use it to make everyone in there…”

“Suffocate,” Hopper finished the sentence. “Or they’re using it for cooling. Maybe for machines, maybe for weapons, maybe for something that won’t remain stable without constant cooling. There’s another possibility. If you make a liquid evaporate quickly, it creates pressure... a lot of pressure. With the right containers, valves, and some additional material, you wouldn’t build a classic bomb out of it, but something that behaves damn similarly.” Lucas looked up now, he showed no fear, but his arms had crossed more tightly across his chest. “So it does sound like a bomb after all.” Hopper glanced at him briefly before looking back at the map. “It sounds like part of one. Or like a facility that could turn into one at the wrong moment.” No one spoke for a few seconds. Steve looked at Hopper, whose expression had grown so serious that even the fatigue behind it seemed to have vanished. This was no longer the worried father who would have loved to hold El close under his own arm, nor was it the man who had been talking about Sara out there in the rain. This was the former soldier and Chief who had spotted something on a scribbled map that the others had overlooked.

“Did you see anything like this in the Army?” Steve asked. The Chief drew a slow breath through his nose. “Not exactly like this. But the military doesn’t transport quantities of this magnitude into a restricted area without a reason. It costs money, vehicles, people, and above all, planning. Every single tank has to be stored, secured, and monitored. There are lists, permits, and someone who decided they needed all of this. They’re preparing for something. Maybe an attack, maybe to freeze, contain, or kill something that can’t be dealt with using conventional weapons.” Steve couldn’t help but think of the Upside Down.. the tendrils, the spores, the fleshy growths, and everything that moved there, cold had never been their first choice, fire had worked... sometimes, bullets, not so much. If the Army were now trying to exploit a new weakness, that might almost have been reassuring. But nothing about the marked area looked like the result of a careful investigation.

“Or they already know something’s coming,” he said quietly. Hopper’s gaze lifted to him. Lucas looked at the map again. He forced himself to view the individual markings not just as tanks, but as part of a larger plan. Their positions didn’t seem random. Dustin had marked some near the outer perimeter, others closer to the buildings. If he wasn’t mistaken, they could form a ring. A barrier. Or a trap. “Maybe they don’t want to keep something cool inside,” Lucas said after a while. “Maybe they want to keep something from getting out.” Hopper immediately looked back down. His finger traced the circle, this time slowly and completely. “That’s possible.”

“Then the tanks aren’t the target,” Lucas continued. “They’re part of the barrier.” Steve looked back and forth between him and the map. “A barrier made of nitrogen?” 

“Or they flood the area with it as soon as something happens,” Lucas explained. “The tanks are positioned in several places so they don’t have to distribute everything from a single point. Maybe there are pipes.... Dustin did draw those lines, after all.” Jim leaned in closer and examined the lines more closely. “Those could be supply lines... or the paths the tanks were moved along.” He held the map closer to the light and slowly shook his head. “Damn, Henderson could have written down what he actually saw and what he was just guessing.”

“He was probably trying to explain it to us over the radio,” Steve reminded “Between the rain, the static, and Lucas threatening to kill him.”

“I didn’t threaten him,” Lucas retorted immediately.

Steve raised an eyebrow.

“Not yet.”

Lucas ignored him and turned back to the note, but the little interjection had at least kept the silence from becoming completely oppressive. Steve sat up straight, rubbed the bridge of his nose gently, and immediately regretted it as a sharp pain shot through his face. His hand dropped back down as his gaze drifted almost automatically toward Billy, he couldn’t help but stay closer to him than was necessary for reading a map. After everything that had been said between them outside, and after everything he’d seen in Billy’s face just moments before, any greater distance suddenly felt wrong. He didn’t touch him, but his shoulder was close enough to Billy’s arm that Billy wouldn’t have to walk halfway across the room if he needed support. Lucas noticed it, Steve had never been particularly subtle when someone was important to him, and with Billy, he seemed to have completely forgotten that other people had eyes. Lucas didn’t let on, though, he didn’t look any longer than necessary, nor did he make a face. Steve could believe whatever he wanted. He could trust Billy, defend him, and fall in love with him, if that was indeed what was happening here. Lucas wouldn’t stop him. He’d simply remain more cautious himself... after all, someone had to be. Hopper slowly sat back up, but left his hand resting on Dustin’s map, as if it might otherwise vanish from the table and take all the answers with it. “We’ll wrap this up for today,” he finally decided. His tone left little room for objection, though this time it wasn’t loud. “El needs some rest. So does Robin, Harrington looks like he’s about to fall asleep standing up, even though he’ll probably deny it.”

“I always look like that.”

“No,” Hopper replied dryly. “Usually you just look confused." Steve wanted to object, but then realized he couldn’t think of a particularly convincing response. Hopper pulled the map completely toward him and, instead of folding it back up, placed a second, heavier folder on top of it to keep it flat. “We’ll take another look at this tomorrow with a clear head. We need to find out where the tanks are coming from, how many there really are, and whether Henderson saw pipelines, vehicles, or just storage areas, no one goes there before then, no one tries to check anything out on their own. And before anyone asks: Yes, that goes especially for Dustin.” His gaze swept across the room, lingered on El for a moment, and finally returned to Billy. The old sternness was still there, but not in the same way as before, Hopper said nothing about the conversation outside, didn’t thank him for the promise, and didn’t mention what Billy had told him about El, Mike, or Neil. Instead, he just gave him a brief nod. The movement was small, almost imperceptible, but Steve saw it... so did Lucas.

“The Army isn’t stockpiling that much of that stuff for some experiment that’ll be forgotten in a few days,” the Chief added. “Whatever they’re building or preparing out there, it’s big. And if Henderson is right, they’re either convinced they’ll need it soon… or they’ve already started.” The rain continued to beat against the windows, while somewhere in the distance another clap of thunder rolled through Hawkins. They had no answer as to what the tanks were intended for... not yet, but Hopper was right. No one would stockpile such large quantities without knowing what they intended to do with them.

Billy Hargrove

Billy had wanted to have a lovely little talk with Sinclair about a number of things. He'd even threatened him with the idea before. Neither of them had exactly been thrilled about being stuck in the same room together for this meeting, but there was a difference between the two of them. Lucas had made his feelings about Billy abundantly clear, and honestly? Billy couldn't even blame him. The kid had every reason to be pissed at him.

Billy, on the other hand, simply hadn't been ready to face what lay between them.

Maybe he still wasn't. He was too fucking exhausted to pay much attention to the kid anyway, but that didn't mean he could stop thinking about it. The whole thing kept knocking around inside his thick skull, refusing to be ignored.

Talk to him. Set things right.

Great advice.

Except Lucas was stubborn as hell, and Billy wasn't exactly known for his own flexibility. Was there even a point in trying anymore? They'd already wasted enough time taking breaks and talking things through, whether because Billy had needed a minute to breathe or because Hopper had gotten dangerously close to an emotional breakdown.

Maybe Billy was simply too tired for this now. He could barely keep track of half of what was being said, let alone find the energy to deal with another difficult conversation.

Or maybe it just wasn't important enough. What did it matter if one kid didn't like him?

Except that wasn't really it, was it?

The truth was that Billy couldn't bring himself to give anyone else another piece of himself. Not tonight. Not after everything he'd already admitted, everything he'd allowed people to see. In the span of a few hours, he'd exposed more of himself than he had in his entire fucking life. Enough was enough.

Would it come back to bite him in the ass eventually? Probably.

But right now, Kay's and Henry's plans mattered more. El's and Steve's safety mattered more. Max mattered more... and he was already pissed at himself for not having managed to visit her today. All of that was already threatening to drain him completely dry. He couldn't waste whatever was left of himself on another fight he wasn't sure he had the strength to finish.

So, in the end, Billy did nothing. He just looked at Lucas. For a long moment. Long enough to make sure the kid understood what he was trying to say without having to actually say any of it.

I know you're pissed at me. I get it.

He really did.

And then, finally—

I'm not going to get in your way.

Not tonight. 

For now, that would have to be enough.

Luckily, the moment was swallowed up by the others gathering around Dustin's notes. Billy let it go without another word and shifted his attention to the mess of information in front of them, trying his absolute hardest to follow along.

Steve's brief attempt to deny that he knew what N₂ was earned a faint grin from Billy. Of course he fucking did. It was cute, really. Totally something Steve would do. Billy hadn't known what the hell it was before Lucas had pointed it out, either.

Damn, these kids were smart.

Anyway. Focus!

Billy forced his attention back to Hopper. The more the man explained, the more the fog in Billy's head seemed to clear — and the more ominous the picture that emerged became. There was something here. Something that actually made sense. They were getting somewhere.

That should have been reassuring. It wasn't.

The idea of a group of soldiers working under Dr. Kay stockpiling something as dangerous as tons of nitrogen tanks was bad enough. But the fact that they were apparently preparing for something? That was worse.

Billy's mind immediately started running through every possible scenario, and none of them were particularly comforting.

What the fuck was that stupid bitch planning? Freeze Eleven in some kind of chamber if she managed to get her hands on her?

The thought alone made Billy's stomach twist. Suddenly, he wanted to enter the zone even less than before, and he'd already thought that was fucking impossible.

“You think they know about Henry? And what he's... turned into?” Billy wondered.

El shook her head. “Papa... I mean, Dr. Brenner... He used my powers to try and find him, but we never did. Maybe they know he is still out there, but... I don't think they know what he has become. Or that he is behind everything.”

“Really makes you wonder what they think is coming...” Will muttered. “If only Dr. Owens was still here.”

Billy's eyes immediately snapped toward him. “Dr. Owens? He's the guy that did the surgery on me. At least most of it.”

“Yes,” Will confirmed. “He took care of me the year after I was in the Upside Down. I always felt like he was... one of the good guys. He was kind.”

“Where's he now?” The question left Billy before he could think about it. He found himself holding his breath as he waited for the answer.

“We don't know,” El said. “The last time I saw him, the military got him. They were going to kill me, and they killed Papa, so...”

Billy stared at her. Something about that landed strangely.

He didn't know Owens. Not really. Hell, he didn't even know what the man looked like. Owens had done what needed to be done, saved Billy's life despite apparently having better judgment, and then he'd disappeared. Billy had never even gotten the chance to meet the man who'd helped put him back together.

And now... He might be dead. It was weird how much that bothered him. He leaned back slightly and dragged a hand through his hair, trying to shake off the feeling.

No. Not now. Back to the topic.

Billy swallowed and forced his concentration back into place.

“Y'know, all I hear is that we can blow 'em up if we want to.”

His voice was dry, deliberately casual, and there was enough humor in it to make it sound like a joke. But underneath it was something else. A very real possibility, or, at the very least, a fantasy Billy wouldn't mind entertaining.

Will, however, didn't seem particularly amused.

“I think as long as we don't know what they're really preparing for, we should just... keep in mind that all the nitrogen is there, right?”

He had a point. With that enormous damn hole in the Upside Down sitting right in the middle of the MAC-Z, it was probably better to know where all that nitrogen was before anyone started blowing shit up.

“And if they're using it, it also means they're risking all those soldiers dying, too.”
“Doesn't surprise me,” Billy retorted. “Kay gives me 'for the greater good vibes'. She's just—”

A sharp hiss cut him off, and Billy turned. Steve had apparently forgotten that his nose was injured and had just touched it.

“Jesus Christ, Harrington.”

Billy's first instinct was to give him a look that clearly communicated what the fuck is wrong with you? Then his expression softened despite himself. He watched Steve for another second, making sure he was actually okay before turning his attention back to the others.

Definitely checking that later.

Billy had noticed, too, that Steve had been staying close to him. He hadn't said anything about it. Wasn't going to. He didn't mind, quite in contrary. The warmth of Steve's shoulder against his own was subtle enough that nobody else needed to think anything of it, but Billy felt it all the same. A steady, reassuring presence beside him. Something solid. Something familiar.

He welcomed it... so much. Which was probably why Hopper's offhand comment about Steve usually looking confused rubbed Billy the wrong way. His eyes slid toward the man with a sour expression before he glanced at Steve, giving him a small shake of his head.

Don't listen to him.

By the time Hopper finally started calling it quits for the evening, nearly everyone was stretching, yawning, or otherwise looking like they were about five seconds away from collapsing where they stood. Or sat. Meanwhile, Billy returned the acknowledging nod Hopper gave him.

That should have been the end of it. Everyone should have gone home. Everyone should have slept. Except something was still bothering him.

Billy frowned. His mind refused to shut up.

“Hold on...”

Will immediately looked over at him. “What is it?”
“There's something missing.”

Billy glanced back toward Dustin's notes. He could feel the thought somewhere in the back of his mind. He just couldn't quite grab it yet.

“Think about those nitrogen tanks. Hopper said something about pressure. How it can behave like a bomb.” His brow furrowed. “And then there's still that big gate in the center. The one they have to get through sometimes.”

Will's expression changed. Billy saw the realization happen almost simultaneously in his eyes.

“You said something about the gate looking different each time you were there,” Will said. “One time it was full of stuff, and the next time it was completely open?”

Billy nodded. They stared at each other.

And then—

“Fire!”

They both shouted it at exactly the same time.

“WHAT?! WHERE?!” Robin nearly jumped out of her skin. Billy blinked at her. Will immediately stepped in. “Not here, Robin! The military,” Will continued, turning back toward the others. “They have to use fire to get through the gate. Nothing but fire worked on the Demogorgons, either, right? Hopper! What about flamethrowers? Don't they use nitrogen for those?”

Actually, Hopper was more than ready to leave. The bags beneath his eyes were practically black at this point, and every part of him was screaming for sleep. His first instinct was to roll his eyes, tell the kids they'd had enough for tonight, and walk the hell out of there. Then something clicked.

Hopper's exhaustion seemed to fall away by degrees. His eyes sharpened and he lifted one finger, wiggling it in the air.

“The army does use nitrogen for flamethrowers, yes!”

And suddenly, he was back in it.

“They need a lot of it to fuel those things, even if it's only for a couple of seconds. Maybe that's why they need so many tanks. Not just for cooling or as a suffocating barrier if things go horribly wrong, but for their flamethrowers! And activating a single one of those requires lots of preparation, lots of planning, and a bunch of safety protocols, since they're not in a warzone, they in the middle of a town. They plan it ahead. And once they aim those fuckers at the gate to get through—”

“They're distracted.” Lucas picked up the thought immediately, a grin spreading across his face. “And if they've really got another facility in the Upside Down, they're gonna have to bring a loooot of stuff over there in one go! All that planning, all those resources... Which means—”

“Multiple Humvees per trip,” Billy finished, his grin matching Lucas' despite himself. “Big-ass vehicles you can easily hide in.”

“And with the tunnels, once I've mapped them out,” Will jumped in, practically vibrating with excitement, “maybe one of us can get into the zone and hide in one of those Humvees while they're burning the gate!”

“And they'll take us straight to the Upside Down! Where we can find Vecna and end him once and for all!” Lucas announced. The kid's whole face had lit up. He and Will slapped their hands together in a high-five and immediately started laughing.

“It's like a dungeon crawl!” Lucas said. “We can actually find him!”

“Okay, hold on, children, hold on!” Hopper's voice finally cut through the excitement. “We don't even know how to get our hands on their plans! How're we supposed to know when they're gonna do it?”

“Murray!” Steve suddenly shouted with such confidence that everyone turned to stare at him. Steve looked around.

“Come on, guys...”

Nobody seemed to understand. Steve threw his hands up.

“Think about it! He's a delivery driver for practically the entire quarantine zone! The military must already know him because he leaves the zone for supplies and shit all the time. He's got a license for that or whatever—”

“Somehow, that explanation makes me trust the military even less...” Billy muttered.

Steve ignored him. “Anyway! If he gains their trust, maybe he can start taking care of deliveries for them. And if they suddenly ask him to move a bunch of those tanks somewhere else—or even get more—we'll know about it ahead of time!”

Silence. Uncomfortable silence? No... Contemplating silence. Hopper slowly nodded, a smile starting to spread across his face.

“That... is getting us somewhere. Brilliant, Harrington!”

Billy couldn't help the grin that pulled at his mouth, and he reached over to give Steve a pat on the back. Robin immediately did the same. Then Will. Then Lucas. Steve was suddenly being congratulated from every direction while Billy watched them all like a hawk (or a lifeguard), making sure they weren't about to manhandle Steve too much in their enthusiasm. He was still injured, after all. 

El didn't join in. The whole touching thing still seemed to make her uncomfortable, but Billy caught the smile she gave him anyway, despite her exhaustion.

For the first time in what felt like ages, the room was filled with something other than fear. Hope. Happiness.

Hopper immediately noticed and clapped his hands together to regain everyone's attention. It didn't even take two seconds.

“Now...! Don't get your hopes up too soon. We still have to figure out if any of this is actually possible.”

The enthusiasm in the room dipped slightly.

“But this shows that we actually have a chance. That we've got something to work with.”

Billy's smile faded into something quieter. A chance had been all he was hoping for. Not certainty. Not some magical guarantee that everything would work out. Just a fucking chance.

Hopper rubbed a hand over his face and let out a tired breath.

“So...”

He looked around the room one last time.

“Now let's all get home and rest. We'll meet again in a few days. Inform everyone who couldn't be here tonight, and remember to lay low."

His eyes narrowed.

“Don't start any crap on your own. Got it?!”

Coming Soon ...

  While the group makes their plans, Dustin stays behind at Eddie's memorial, eventually falling asleep beside his grave. But when he wakes to the most shocking discovery he could have ever imagined, one question remains: is he truly awake — or is this nothing more than a dream? Turns out that not only cats have nine lives, but bats, too...

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