six

Steve, Dustin and PJ all looked at each other, horrified. "The gate."

"What?" Robin asked, looking over at them.

"Come on." PJ said. "We gotta get out of here." The boys nodded, and they started down the stairs.

"I don't understand!" Robin said. "You've seen this before?"

"Not exactly." Steve said.

"Then what, exactly?" Robin asked.

"All you need to know is it's bad." Dustin said.

"It's really bad." Steve confirmed. They reached the comms room, finally.

"Like, end-of-the-human-race-as-we-know-it kind of bad." Dustin said.

"And you know about this how?" Robin questioned.

"Um, Steve?" Erica interrupted. "Where's your Russian friend?" They all looked over to see a small blood stain on the floor-but the Russian guard was gone. Suddenly, red lights began to flash and an alarm began to blare.

"Shit!" Steve went over to the door, pulling it open. He slammed it shut quickly and they could hear guys yelling. "Shit. Go, go, go, go, go!" He yelled, and they all ran back up the stairs. They ran through both doors and into the room with all of the scientists, who turned to look at them. They made a break for the staircase on their left, the three older teens urging the children to go in front of them. Dustin, who was in front, pushed a scientist out of the way as they ran down the catwalk next to the laser. The came to an abrupt stop at the end, as there was a massive drop off. Steve looked around, seeing another staircase that lead down-as the way they came was now flooding with guards.

"This way!" He yelled, leading them along. PJ was pulling Erica along behind her, with Dustin and Robin were behind them. Two guards with large guns emerged from a hall, so Steve body slammed a stack of oil drums onto them. They all ran past the guards and through another door, seeing no clear way out. Steve stayed at the door trying hard to hold it closed as the mass of Russian guards were now hitting against the door trying to open it. Robin ran over to help Steve.

"Here! Come on, let's go!" Erica yelled, finding a hatch down into a vent. Dustin and PJ helped her pull it open, and the two kids dropped down into it.

"Guys, come on!" PJ yelled.

"We can't!" Steve said.

"Just go! Go get help!" Robin yelled, pushing back against the door. PJ could feel herself getting choked up.

"Go!" They both yelled together. Heavy breathing and about to cry, PJ began to climb into the vent, but she stopped.

"PJ, get out of here!" Steve yelled. Looking directly at Robin, who was looking back at her, PJ brought herself to say it.

"I love you!" She yelled out.

"I know! Just keep them safe and get help!" Steve yelled back-unaware. "Go!" With a final look back, PJ dropped into the vent and slammed it shut. As she and the kids crawled away, she could hear the door slam open.

•••

"So, when we set fire to the hub, we drew the Demodgos away so El could close the gate." Dustin explained. "But now, for some insane reason, the Russians appear to be trying to reopen it, which just destroys everything we risked our lives for." They had reached a fan in the duct, and Dustin was trying to shut it off via the panel next to it-while also having explained the last two years to Erica, who didn't know before. It was only fair, seeing as PJ and Dustin both knew and experienced it all.

"By 'we', you're including Lucas?" Erica asked.

"Yes, of course." Dustin nodded.

"So, all that shit you told me, Lucas was there?" She asked.

"Yeah." He nodded.

"My brother, Lucas Charles Sinclair?" She asked.

"Yes!" Dustin exclaimed.

"I don't believe you." She scoffed.

"Wait, So you believe everything about El and the gate and the Demodogs and the Mind Flayer, but you question your brother's involvement?" He asked, and she was nodding.

"That's correct." She nodded. Dustin looked over at PJ who was sitting on the small ledge behind them. She was barely paying attention to their conversation, and was more in the middle of having a full on breakdown. Her brother had either been taken captive by Russian spies, or killed. She couldn't decide which was worse. If he was killed, she'd never see him again. If he was taken, she still might never see him again-and he'd probably be tortured. And she was doing her best not to think about Robin.

"Hey! PJ!" Dustin said, clapping in front of her face. She blinked her eyes, looking in front of her to see that the fan had stopped and Erica was already waiting on the other side. "Hey, you okay?"

"Oh, yeah I'm good." She nodded, clearing her mind. She had to get Dustin and Erica to safety. Then find Hopper. That was her goal, and she needed to accomplish it. "Let's go." He nodded, turning around and crawling through the fan. She followed after him, though, since her mind was elsewhere, things didn't go so smoothly. The blades of the fan were essentially giant knives, meaning they were extremely sharp. And she just so happened to cut her leg as she was crawling through.  "Ah, fuck!" She said, sucking air through her teeth as she moved through and brought herself to a sitting position. Looking at the blood pouring from her leg, she could tell this would need stitches.

"Holy shit. Oh, shit. What do we do?" Dustin asked starting to freak out.

"Clean it. Put pressure on it." PJ said, remembering the first aid section of her high school health class. "Think...okay, um....Erica! Did Steve put that knife back in your bag after we used it?" Erica slung her backpack off, and dig through it, pulling out the knife. PJ took out the gun and set it down.

"Holy shit, is that a gun?" Dustin asked.

"What else would it be, Dustin?" She asked, pulling her sweatshirt over her head. "I really liked this sweatshirt..." She sighed, grabbing the knife and sliding it open, cutting off both sleeves and throwing the rest to the side. "Dustin, can you wipe away the blood please? I need to see how big the cut is." Dustin nodded, taking one of the sleeves and dabbing away the blood. The cut was about as long as a cigarette, being just about two and a half inches.

"The blood just keeps coming, what do I do?" Dustin asked.

"Keep cleaning it!" PJ said, cutting the sleeve in half. "Okay, when I say go move your hand away so I can wrap it up, okay?" She asked, and he nodded. "One, two, three, go!" As soon as Dustin's hand was out of the way, she wrapped the cut sleeve around her leg about three times. "Okay, hold this in place." Dustin nodded, pushing against the fabric. PJ grabbed the sweatshirt and pulled out the string, tying it and looping it around the wound until it was tight and secure on her leg. The three of them all let out a collective breath they'd been holding.

"You good?" Erica asked.

"Yeah, I think so." PJ nodded. She sat up on her knees and put the gun in her waistband-just like she'd seen in plenty of movies. "Okay, let's keep going."

"You sure?" Dustin asked.

"Yeah." She nodded. "Yeah, come on." And with that, Erica put her bag back on and they kept going-leaving behind a pool of blood, the sweatshirt, the bloody sleeve, and the knife.