{Hey everyone! Thanks for the reviews! I really appreciate the feedback and I'm sorry FF doesn't have an easy reply function so I can interact better. Anyway, sorry about the delay on this - Star Wars got me a little distracted. But here's a Christmas chapter for your holiday season ;) }

Eleven knew the moment Hopper plugged in the lights: a Christmas Tree was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. It changed the whole atmosphere of their little home. A soft, multi-colored glow illuminated the space just enough. The tinsel twinkled and winked under the glimmer of the lights, glass baubles reflecting their subtle shine.

"So," Hopper said, coming to sit next to her on the couch. "What do you think? Pretty cozy, huh?"

She nodded, feeling as happy and glowy as the tree. "It's beautiful."

"So we'll put presents under there, and on Christmas morning, you get to open them."

"Presents?" She looked up at him. "But I can't get you a present."

Hopper laughed and put a gentle arm around her. "Don't worry about me, kid, I haven't needed a Christmas present for a long time. They will be yours. But no peeking, okay? None of this shaking the box thing to try to guess what's inside. When you see a present show up under that tree you leave it alone until Christmas, got it?"

Again, she nodded. Only the commercials she'd seen on TV lately have her any context for Christmas or presents. She knew that kids got wildly excited about both, but right now the best part about all of it was just the tree. She felt warmer just looking at it.

It brought a new feeling of enchantment and the pleasing smell of pine into the little house. It made her feel less lonely during the day, and more gently inclined towards Hopper in the evening. He didn't want it on during the day, but sometimes she crawled under and plugged it in anyway. One time, after doing this, she turned over beneath the tree and gazed up through the illuminated tangle of branches and light. She lost herself in wonder, and stayed there for a peacefully long time.

It seemed to put Hopper in a better mood too. Her relationship with him hadn't magically become perfect after their experience at the Gate, but they did have a deeper appreciation for one another now. And the softly glowing embers of the holiday season healed whatever frustration might have come up from her ongoing captivity. When he came home in the evenings, his mood quickly turned from weary to cheerful and affectionate.

One night, he even showed up after work with Mike in tow, as a surprise. It had been a day when she felt particularly isolated, especially after checking on her mother in the Void, and had a throbbing need to be near someone. So his unexpected appearance was almost too perfect to bear. Mike told her about sledding and other winter activities he and the others were doing. Hopper promised her she'd get to experience that too one day. After dinner, Hopper let her get out of cleaning, and she took Mike over to the Christmas tree where she got on the ground and slid beneath it, motioning for him to do the same. To his credit, he did so without question. They lay there, head to head, staring up at the labyrinth of branches and multi-colored lights.

He marveled. "I used to do this when I was little. I haven't thought about it in so long."

"Magical," she whispered, testing the new word.

"Yeah," said Mike, glancing over at her. "Magical."

He'd stayed late that night. Hopper left them alone on the couch while he sat at the table reading through a file. Mike was able to to secretly take her hand and wind his fingers through hers while they watched a Christmas special. That had been a good night, and she thanked Hopper when he got back from taking Mike home. He hugged her and kissed the top of her head.

They still annoyed one another, and he still kept Mike away when he could, which made her angry. But beneath all that superficial tension she now felt a sense of belonging and security. Even when they argued, she knew he cared. In her darkest dreams, she saw the face of Papa loom before her and felt the icy chill of fear when she remembered that he might be alive in the world. When this happened, she'd wake up shivering and heartbroken. But inevitably, Hopper would be there in the morning with breakfast and an easy smile, his presence reassuring and soothing away the ache.

Every night after dinner, she'd cocoon herself in a big comforter while he read to her. Back in her cell in the Lab, with not even a blanket on her spartan bed, she'd faded away with loneliness. Papa spent time with her when she was little, teaching her letters and singing little nursery rhymes with her — and she'd mistakenly latched onto this as evidence of his love for her. But the older she got, the less frequently he came to visit. She began to realize that all of his attention before had only been to prepare her with the necessary knowledge for the experiments. He only visited when it was time for a test. And he ignored her pain and fear, expecting her to submit obediently to all of it. Her feelings were a nuisance in the way of his goals, and he only bestowed affection as a reward when the experiment results pleased him. She could purchase small snippets of approval with the controlled use of her power, and so she did. It was all she had.

Life had become a bleak repetition of terrifying experiments followed by crushing isolation, and if she resisted, she was punished. She might have died of a starved heart had she remained there.

Now, everything was so different. Hopper's voice eased the uncertainty about Papa's existence lurking within her, instead transmitting holiday ghost stories and legends of fat flying men delivering presents. He had given her a home, given her safety. She had people in her life who wanted to be with her, who eagerly gave the affection she had so long craved. A man had come into her world, more real and more fatherly than the scientist who raised her. After all this time and all that they'd been through, she realized that she loved him. He belonged to her, and she to him. He was her father.

…

"Merry Christmas, kiddo," Hopper greeted as he came through the door.

Eleven slid down off the back of the couch, where she'd been alertly perched since receiving his signal. She waited, watching him peel off his coat and hang his hat on the peg. Christmas Eve had finally arrived, and he'd been promising her something special on this night for a while now.

He chuckled, seeing her barely contained anticipation. "You have a good day?"

She shrugged, following him to the kitchen.

He didn't mind her noncommittal answer. "Mine was interesting. Snow like this always brings out the worst in drivers. Your friends haven't fared much better on their bikes. Oh—don't worry, they're fine. Nah, it was some other kid on a bike that slid on a patch of ice and broke his arm. We didn't really need to get involved in that one, except that it happened on school property, and even though the school is closed for the break the parents were upset and made it this whole legal issue..."

She listened as he went on about his day, her steady gaze never leaving him as he got himself a drink. She wanted to fidget, wanted to drum her fingers on the table, wanted to bounce, something to expend the nervous energy inside her. But she didn't. She held still and waited for him to stop stalling.

Finally he set his glass on the table and faced her. "I think this night calls for a bit of music, don't you?"

She grinned and nodded.

At the record player, he retrieved an album with a smiling man in a red hat on the front.

"It's not Christmas Eve without a little Bing," he explained, guiding the needle onto the spinning vinyl.

A melodious male voice filled the little cabin, backed up by women singing in harmony. Eleven liked it, and not just because she recognized it as the start of the night's festivities.

"So, dinner first, yeah?" Hopper asked.

She bobbed her head once in silent agreement.

He boogied his way through the dinner preparation, reacting to the songs in his endearingly awkward way. Eleven smiled. Whatever it was that leaked into people and made them want to move to music, she didn't understand. But she saw that they loved it, and remembered how Mike and Dustin had helped her dance and how alive she'd felt. Is that what Hopper felt too?

She got the utensils and cups, bringing them to the table while he prepared everything else. The food smelled better than usual. Much better than the tinfoil dinners they usually had.

"Flo?" She asked as he set enormous plates of food on the table.

"Nope. Take-out. I was able to get there before they closed for the evening. Special night calls for special food."

She slid into her seat and eyed the generous fare. It was more food than she'd ever eaten at a single sitting, and much of it she didn't recognize.

"Those are sweet potatoes, and don't look at them like that, huh? At least not until you've tried them," Hopper murmured, taking a heaping forkful from his own plate.

Eleven enjoyed the freedom of being able to choose what she ate, and frequently shunned the unpleasant flavors despite Hopper's insistence. Tonight, however, she humored him and tasted a bit of everything. It all turned out to be pretty good, so she didn't have trouble keeping pace.

After eating, they were both too full to move much. For once, he didn't require them to clean up after. Instead, they both staggered to the couches where they collapsed and stretched their bloated bellies out. It was an uncomfortable feeling, but Eleven relished it. At the lab, she was only ever given small, scientifically determined portions of flavorless food, designed to keep her just healthy enough and nothing more. Food was a sweet part of being free — all of it an adventure, even if she always returned to what she loved best.

The album ended and they listened to the sound of the needle dragging over empty record.

"You know," Hopper said slowly. "Hawkins is lit up real pretty right now with all the Christmas lights."

She glanced at the tree, trying to imagine what he meant.

"If you're up for it, we could take a drive to see them. Yeah? What do you think?"

Her head snapped back around to stare at him as her body forgot its fullness and sat up. "Take a drive?"

He chuckled. "That's right. Field trip. We won't talk to anyone, we won't get out of the car, we'll bundle you up so no one could recognize you, and we'll come straight home after. Agreed?"

"Yes," she said breathlessly, scrambling to her feet. Her heart tripped along a merry gallop in her chest and she snatched up her coat. Was this why everyone loved Christmas? Was this what they meant when they talked about the magic of the season? Because this felt like nothing short of a miracle.

Hopper hauled himself to his feet too and stopped the record player. He put on his own coat again, as well as his hat. Ready, he turned his attention to her. In addition to her usual coat, he supplied her with a thick scarf and a furry hat, both effective at ensuring only her nose and eyes were visible. She felt snug. Safe.

Outside, the cold air almost hurt to inhale. The snow had finally fallen in earnest today, piling up around the edges of the cabin and twiggy, leafless trees. Moonlight reflected off the gauzy white surface, illuminating the night to almost perfect visibility.

Eleven felt electricity in the air, as if anything were possible.

The wheels of the truck crunched over the newly fallen snow as they drove into the night. The chilly, cavernous cab soon became warm and pleasant, heat flooding up from near the feet.

She'd only ridden in this truck a handful of times. The first time she'd had everyone else with her, all of them nervous throughout the ride from the junkyard to the Byers house. But the rest of the times, she'd been alone in the car with just Hopper. And that had been only three — when he first brought her home to this cabin, when he took her to the lab, and when he brought her back. Somehow, though, the truck and its smoke-scented interior felt as familiar as Hopper himself. It had become an extension of him.

She glanced over at him, and he did the same to her. A smile passed from one to the other and she looked out the window again.

Whatever she'd tried to picture when he described it, it was no where near as beautiful as the sight that met her when they got into town.

Hawkins Main Street had been strung with lights, and every tree along it wrapped to the tiniest branch. Everything sparkled, everything glowed. The snowy streets were empty, giving it the feeling of a private dreamscape. As they drove through neighborhoods, she marveled at the houses outlined in lights - some white, some colorful, some hung down like icicles. A few had gone so far as to put lights on their bushes and trees. Others placed figures of people on the lawn.

"What's that?" She asked, pointing at a collection of these figures assembled around what looked like a baby in a wooden box.

"It's a story people tell each other at Christmas time," Hopper explained half-heartedly. "Has to do with God and all that. Christmas is technically celebrating the birth of that baby."

Eleven didn't understand anything about God, but she knew that some people got really worked up about it. Sometimes men on the TV gave impassioned speeches about this concept, about some all-powerful man who would at times punish and other times bless, who seemed have ultimate control over all happenings. The few times she'd listened to it, her skin crawled with the creepy feeling they were describing Papa, and she'd change the channel immediately. Hopper's mention of it now sparked no curiosity at all. She moved on to the next unusual sight.

"What's that?"

"That's a snowman. People roll up the snow in balls like that to make it look like a person — sorta."

"Why?" Whoever had made it hadn't succeeded. It wasn't so much a person as bizarre creature emerging from the snow, with twiggy arms and an asymmetrical face, three orbs stacked vertically and topped with a scarf and hat.

Hopper shrugged. "You know, for fun."

People did odd things in the name of fun, she decided.

They saw more snowmen in other neighborhoods, and so many lights as to utterly take her breath away.

Hopper drove down Mike's street too. She sat up when she recognized the neighborhood, pressing her face against the glass so she wouldn't miss it. His house had lights too — big, colorful ones climbing along the edges and around the door. A circle of fluffy branches and shiny baubles hung in the center of the front door. The curtains of the main window were parted slightly, and from within she could see the sparkle of their own tree.

It looked happy and bright, like it contained something sweet within it.

"You'll see him tomorrow," Hopper reminded her.

She made herself look at the next house instead of craning her neck to keep Mike's in view. Thoughts of his basement filled her mind, and she wondered how his family had decorated their Christmas tree. What would it be like to be there tonight? With Nancy and Mike, their little sister and the parents she'd never met. Mike said his mother was a good cook — had she made a meal as enormous as Hopper had brought home? What were they doing right now?

These thoughts and questions lingered for a few more streets, but eventually faded under the relentless onslaught of new and beautiful sights.

By the time they headed home, her heart was full to bursting.

"So," said Hopper. "What did you think? Good?"

She nodded, giving him a huge grin. "Beautiful."

He seemed pleased with this response, and with his role in bringing about her happiness tonight. They drove in relative silence a little while longer.

Then, slowly, he ventured a question. "Hey, kid, I gotta ask you about something."

She tore her gaze from the snowy wilderness outside and looked at him.

"You're okay with Will's mom, right? You like her?"

Eleven didn't hesitate. "Yes. She's nice."

Hopper nodded. "I figured, but I needed to know for sure. Cuz I'd like it if she came around more often — for your sake, you know? You need a good female influence in your life, not just a curmudgeon like me."

"C-curmudgeon?"

"You can look it up when we get home, but it just basically means grump."

Eleven considered his proposal. Something inside her craved the motherly love that Joyce exuded every time they embraced. She wanted the chance to hug her more often, to experience it again and again. It was an echo of whatever she had hoped to find in tracking down Mama.

Besides, she could not forget the words of kindness Joyce had given her in preparation for the Bath. No one had ever talked to her that way. The Bath had been a terrible ordeal every time they made her do it; entering the Void made her feel horribly vulnerable and alone. She dreaded it every time. But that night, she volunteered. She just wanted to help her friends find Will, and she wanted to right the wrong she'd committed by opening the Gate. The only thing left to do then was steel herself against the old dread that churned in her stomach.

But then came Joyce, speaking softly, murmuring reassuring things and comforting her with promises that she could abort at any time. No one had ever given her permission to feel scared before. They had always punished her for becoming too frightened to continue. No one had ever promised to be there to soothe her fear if it became overwhelming. And she had kept her promise. Comfort did come when Eleven needed it, terrified in the face of Barb's gruesome corpse. Joyce had distantly delivered that maternal balm which gave her courage to continue.

Eleven had loved her from that moment onward.

So of course she didn't mind if she saw Joyce more often. It seemed an odd question to ask.

"I like her. She can come."

Hopper seemed satisfied enough by this answer. He nodded. "Good, that's good. Nancy too, I mean. She's…maybe not the best influence, but the kid's got guts, I'll give her that. And that new girl the boys are hanging out with. She can come whenever too. No need to ask permission if it's a girl. You need female friends."

Eleven couldn't imagine Nancy or Max volunteering to come spend time with her, and she didn't really understand the motive behind all this anyway. Was this another roundabout way of preventing her from seeing Mike? Why did she need female friends? What was the fundamental difference between male and female association, anyway?

So far, she hadn't seen much behavioral contrast between boys and girls. Not in ways that mattered, really. Both could be cruel and violent, caring and protective, brave and cowardly. Nancy said boys were stupid, but Eleven's experience didn't convince her of that.

She could have simply asked Hopper for the why of all this, but it didn't seem to matter much tonight. All that could wait. Tonight, her heart and mind were full of lights and trees and men made of snow.

They arrived back in their cabin where he warmed up some hot cocoa and she changed into her most comfortable pajamas. Sitting together in the glow of their own little tree, sipping liquid warmth, Eleven decided that this was the second best night of her life.

...

The next morning dawned quietly, with heavy snow clouds muting the gradual arrival of sunlight. Hopper introduced her to the concept of Christmas morning, with its wonders and marvels. He gave her a few presents in the form of a soft sweater, new books and puzzles, better fitting boots, snow gloves, and the softest, fluffiest blanket she'd ever seen. In a large package he seemed most excited about, she unwrapped a box with a picture of another black box printed on the side. VCR, it read. Her eyes widened and she looked at him.

He shrugged. "So maybe your little nerd friends made a suggestion, and I thought it was a good one. Now I can rent you some educational stuff so you don't have to watch that garbage on TV all the time."

Eleven was deeply pleased by this development, though she had no idea how the machine worked.

After unwrapping her gifts, she felt bad that she had nothing to give Hopper. She knew, mostly from commercials and Christmas specials on TV, that the gift ritual usually worked both ways. She opted for giving him a tight and earnest hug, and a breathless "Thank you."

He cleared his throat a couple times and extracted himself from her embrace. "Let's make breakfast, huh?" He said huskily.

They both went through the motions of morning in a state of agitation. Knowing Mike would be coming later made Eleven feel strangely jumpy and alert. She changed into her new sweater and tried to pass the time by settling down to one of her new puzzles. But there was an energy in the air that made it hard to concentrate. It came from Hopper too, she felt. He showered and spent some time grooming his beard, then set to fiddling with the VCR. This might be ordinary enough behavior, but all his tiny habits and mannerisms that she'd spent the last year memorizing and analyzing seemed a little off. They didn't talk much, though he kept a record of Christmas music playing at all times.

Did the prospect of opening their secret sanctuary to guests make him that nervous? No, he'd allowed it before, that couldn't be it. Was it her fault? Was her own excitement leaking from her mind, affecting his heartbeat and nervous system? No, she held her emotions firmly in check within the locked vault of her mind. No forces, telekinetic or otherwise, escaped.

Regardless, they both remained in this sort of restless state until shortly after lunch, when they heard the sound of a car approaching in the distance.

Eleven looked up and caught Hopper's eye. She moved around to the window, using a finger to part the curtain and pull back the side of the shade, peeking out. Hopper came up behind her and peeked as well. She grinned up at him.

"They're here."

They came walking through the falling snow, bundled in hats and coats, gloves and boots. Jonathan led them, with Nancy beside him. They stepped over the trip wire. Joyce, Will, and Mike followed suit. As they approached the house, Hopper ruffled her hair and straightened up.

"Showtime, kiddo."

The whole atmosphere changed when the five of them came through the door. Suddenly the little cabin brimmed with the happy sounds of warm greetings and Christmas salutation. Eleven hung back a little and watched them as they peeled off their coats like reptiles shedding their skins, tapping snow off their boots and letting Hopper take the brightly colored packages in their hands to the table. She caught Mike's eye as he performed these tasks. A secret grin passed between them.

Joyce was the first to hug her, though. Eleven nestled into her embrace and felt a hand stroke the back of her head.

"Merry Christmas, Jane," she murmured. Holding her back at little, she searched Eleven's face. "Have you had a good one, so far?"

El nodded, grinning a little. "Yes."

"Hey, you got a VCR!" Will said enthusiastically, spotting Hopper's efforts scattered around the floor by the TV.

Jonathan observed the mess too. "Chief, do you need some help setting it up? Bob showed me how to do ours last year."

Hopper leaned against the back of the couch. "Sure, kid, knock yourself out."

Nancy took Joyce's place in giving Eleven a light hug. "Love the sweater. Is it new?"

"Yes."

"Well, I approve." She winked conspiratorially before moving aside.

Everyone settled in comfortably. Will joined Jonathan on the floor by the TV. Nancy carried the gifts over to the tree. Hopper offered Joyce a glass of wine, which she accepted, and they headed into the kitchen together.

Eleven turned to Mike, who came up beside her with soft eyes and a soft smile. "Merry Christmas, El."

Her gaze fell, heat warming her cheeks a little under the pleasure of his proximity. "Merry Christmas," she returned in a whisper.

Everyone looked so happy. At the lab, Eleven had no concept of family. She didn't know how others lived, and didn't wonder what the scientists around her did when they weren't studying her. The first inkling she'd had of it was in Mike's own living room, staring at his family pictures. She'd determined that most people lived in organized units, usually led by two adults — one male, one female. These conducted the affairs of the group and took care of the young. Since then, she'd learned more about family and had come to understand that not all families were built the same. Will's family didn't have two adults, for example. Only a mother. Since Hopper had become her father, she herself now belonged to one of these lopsided households as well. Kali had formed her own kind of family unit out of the misfits she'd collected, and Aunt Becky took care of Mama as the only option left to them, clinging to the remains of what was before.

But right now, she had a peculiar certainty that her family was all here, all around. Hopper and Joyce laughed over some shared memory while the two brothers worked on their technical puzzle, guided by Nancy's reading of the manual. With Mike beside her, she had the distinct sensation of completion — nothing at all was missing. Everything was exactly perfect.

She smiled.

"What are you thinking about?" Mike asked.

"Family. My family."

He looked around, nodding. "Yeah. This does feel like a family. At least, this is what family is supposed to feel like. It doesn't always, though."

She allowed him to gently take her hand and lead her over to the vacant couch. "Does yours?"

He laughed a little as they sat, their hands parting again. He angled himself against the armrest so that he faced her. "No way. Take today, for example. My parents are kind of bugged that me and Nancy wanted to see the Byers instead of staying with them all day. They were pretty grumpy when we were getting ready to leave. And trust me, grumpy moms are the worst."

Hopper's bad moods usually coincided with her own, and when that happened they provoked one another far too easily. If Mike's encounter with his parents had been anything like that, she understood something of what he meant, though not the part about mothers so much. She vaguely wondered why his parents had been unhappy about the situation. Her experience there had suggested that they didn't much pay attention to what their children were doing — unless it involved being home when they should have been at school. Maybe it went against their expected holiday ritual, though. Yes, maybe that.

"Hey," Mike said softly, drawing her attention back. "I got something for you. Do you want to open it?"

Eleven knew that he saw her brief flicker of surprise, but quickly replaced it with a shy smile and a nod.

He stood up and went to the tree where his sister had deposited the modest stack of gifts. Among them, he selected the smallest one and brought it back to her.

The package was too little to be a supercom, or even a videotape. Her curiosity piqued, she glanced up at him. He produced that crooked grin she recognized so well, urging her to open it.

So she did. Nimble fingers tore through the paper with minimal effort. Beneath was a small cardboard box with a picture of a tiny piano on it. The piano she recognized from pictures in her thesaurus, but the size of it puzzled her. Weren't they supposed to be bigger?

"It's a music box," Mike said. "Here, take it out and I'll show you."

She withdrew a very small piano made of clear plastic. Inside she saw gold gears and a studded cylinder. On the bottom, it had a crank. Mike gently took it from her hands and turned it over, twisting the crank a few times. The studded cylinder inside began to turn, flicking little bars inside as the studs rolled beneath them. It produced a sweet sound, soft and chiming. The melody was sincere and gentle, inspiring in her feelings both wistful and adoring.

But how did Mike know? He hadn't been there when she found Nancy's music box. He hadn't known how the sound had pierced her aching heart instantly. No one knew about that moment of sadness and longing. It had remained a private secret in her heart. But somehow, Mike had guessed. Or maybe had heard the echo of it somewhere inside her.

This wasn't the same melody, but it was somehow better. She scooped her tiny piano out of his hands and brought it closer, mesmerized by the little keys flashing as the studs lifted them in their turns.

"Do you like it? Is it okay?" Mike asked very quietly.

She met his gaze, those eyes full of worry and hope, full of that selfless kindness she'd recognized that first night in his basement. "Yes," she breathed, drawing the music box in closer to her chest. It had at once become the most precious thing she owned, alongside Hopper's blue bracelet. She gave him her warmest, most sincere smile. "Thank you."

He grinned and looked away, pleased with himself.

She cranked the music box the way he had done, twice more so the music wouldn't stop. It sounded like it came directly from her own heart.

With a start, she realized everyone else had gotten quiet and turned their attention to the music. Sudden self-consciousness flooded through her. People staring at her wasn't an unusual experience, but to be caught in a moment so private and intimate as this made her acutely embarrassed.

"You got her a music box?" Will asked, perplexed.

Mike shrugged. "When I heard it, it reminded me of El. I thought she'd like it. Is it weird?"

"Yeah," Will decided. "I mean, a little. Aren't music boxes for babies?"

Nancy shook her head. "No, it's not weird and they aren't for babies. It's sweet."

Jonathan exchanged a glance with Will that made them both grin. Clearly he agreed more with his brother on this issue.

"If Jane likes it, that's all that matters," Joyce chided. "And if we're starting the gifts, then I've got one to give too. Are you up for it, sweetie? We all wanted to make your first Christmas special."

While Joyce distributed the few other packages to their givers, Eleven stood up and carried the music box to her room. It's little song pittered out as she set it on her nightstand and closed the door behind her. She already felt protective of the tiny object, wanting to hide it away from anyone else who might want to touch it. On her way back to the couch, she caught Hopper's eye. His mouth twitched into a kind of half-smile, which she returned.

She resumed her place next to Mike, and accepted the gift which Joyce immediately placed in her lap.

Hopper didn't look exactly pleased by the makeup she withdrew from the wrapping, but Joyce cajoled him into a chuckle by explaining how she'd never bought a gift for a teenage girl before and wasn't sure what else to get. Nancy gave Eleven a necklace with a delicate little heart on it, along with some hair clips. Jonathan gave her a walkman portable with headphones and two cassettes, the Clash and Rush. He confessed that they were all used, but still functional. Will gave her the first Star Wars movie on VHS.

Joyce gave Hopper a gift too in the form of a new hat and a pack of his favorite Camels.

After the gifts, everyone kind of resumed their tasks from before. The two adults went back to their conversation, and Jonathan went back to the VCR. Will came over to El and Mike, revealing something else — a slim manila envelope which he pushed into her hands, glancing furtively at the others to ensure their distraction.

Eleven withdrew a single sheet of paper from inside.

"You drew this?" Mike asked softly.

Will nodded.

It was of her, reaching through a sea of monsters and tentacles, including the demogorgon, demodogs, and the mindflayer. Her hand stretched out toward another, toward Will, reaching up for rescue. She looked strong and fearless, determined. It was well done and rather striking. She looked at Will, who shrugged and glanced away.

"You've saved me so many different ways," he murmured. "That's kind of how I see you."

Mike, peering at the picture in her lap, nodded slowly. "I think it's how we all see her too."

Eleven stared at it a moment longer, observing the space between their outstretched fingers and feeling the pang of desperation in that gap. She had to reassure herself that Will was safe now.

"Thank you," she murmured.

"It's probably best if you don't show my mom," Will explained in almost a whisper. "She gets kind of upset by reminders of what happened. She has saved me too, you both have, but I don't think she'd want something like this."

Eleven stood up immediately and took all her new treasures — minus the VHS which Jonathan asked for to test his efforts, to her room. She propped Will's picture against her lamp, next to her music box. It sparked conflicted feelings in her when she looked at it, feelings of fear and guilt, but also of reassurance that she'd made the right choice a few times. She'd have to contemplate it more later, when she had time to herself. Right now she just wanted to be with her favorite people.

Again, she closed the door behind her and resumed her place on the couch by Mike.

"So," he said, grinning. "That's Christmas."

"I'm sorry. I don't have gifts to give you," Eleven confessed.

"Don't worry about that. This year wasn't about us."

He looked so happy, so pleased. She couldn't help the little grin that crept over her own face in response.

"Mike," she said, remembering. "I saw your house."

"What?" He sat up straighter. "When?"

"Last night. We went to see the lights."

"He took you for a drive?" Mike's voice was off, but she wasn't sure why.

"Yes."

"You took her for a drive?" He asked again, this time over to Hopper. A slight accusation tinged his voice, giving it a barbed edge. "In public?"

Hopper rolled his eyes. "Yeah, kid, I did. It was a rare treat, don't get excited."

Eleven lightly touched his arm, drawing his attention back to her. Now was not the time for a battle between those two. She tried another small smile. "It was pretty."

The tension in his face remained for a moment longer, but it finally eased when he let go of whatever bothered him about this revelation. He made himself relax. "My parents pay people to hang the lights so my dad doesn't have to do it. It does look nice, though. I'm happy you got to see it."

"I saw…snow…men?" She tested the word.

Mike grinned. "Yeah, snowmen! They're fun to make. What did you think? Did you like them?"

She shrugged. It was enough reply for him, and he laughed a little.

"I never thought about how weird they must look to someone who has never seen them."

"We should make one sometime," Will interjected, grinning.

Mike's eyes widened. "We should make one now!"

"Mom," Will said, getting to his feet. "Can we go outside?"

Jonathan lifted a brow and glanced between his mother and younger brother. "You want to go out there? It's freezing."

"El's never played in the snow," Will explained.

Eleven gave Mike a skeptical eye. "Play?"

Snow didn't seem like something to play with. It was cold and wet and hostile and made survival much more difficult. Since she'd been given a safe haven from which to observe the cold white fluff, she'd decided it could also be beautiful. But fun? Something to enjoy?

Mike grinned. "Yeah, it is cold, but pretty fun. Remember when I told you about sledding? You can only go sledding in the snow. Plus you can make shapes with it like snowballs and snowmen."

She wasn't quite convinced, but she could tell he was eager to try, which made the idea more appealing. She glanced up at Hopper for his answer.

Joyce looked at him too. Everyone did. His was ultimately the permission they all needed.

Hopper passed a hand over his beard, his eyes narrowing as he studied El's face in his deliberation. Finally a half-smile tipped his face and he nodded. "Sure, okay. Let's break out that new snow gear, huh, kiddo?"

…

Mike was glad he brought his hat and gloves. He almost hadn't, but his mother insisted right before they left. Too bad she didn't insist on snow pants too. He waded through the snow ahead of the pack, leading the way and carving a path for El to follow. He felt hyper aware of her presence right behind him, and kept glancing back to gauge her reactions on this little adventure.

Rolling a snowman had the curious effect of putting everyone — including the crusty Hopper and nervous Joyce — in childlike moods. What began as a dedicated task soon turned into mild chaos when Jonathan lobbed a snowball directly at Will.

Will squawked and immediately began compacting his own snowball to retaliate.

"Jonathan!" Joyce cried, horrified.

Will ignored his mother's concern and hurled his snowball back at his brother. He missed and began making another.

Nancy gave Eleven a knowing shake of the head and a wink. "What did I tell you? Boys are—"

But her sentences cut off when one of Jonathan's projectiles exploded against her shoulder.

"Hey!" She cried, whipping around, eyes wide. "You're gonna pay for that! Remember, I have better aim than you!"

Eleven winced as a flurry of snowballs began to fly. She slid behind Mike for shelter.

He turned his back on the fight to shield her and himself. Her eyes met his and he saw nervous uncertainty there.

"Don't worry, it's all just a big game. Here, do it like this." He scooped up a pile of snow in his hands and began to compact it, turning it and smoothing it into a ball.

She mimicked his actions hesitantly. As it began to solidify under her hands, he saw a spark of surprise and wonder creep into her face.

He grinned. "Yeah, like that."

A snowball smashed into his back, sending lightning pinpricks of cold showering against his neck. He wheeled around and hurled his ball directly at Nancy, who he recognized immediately as his attacker. She shrieked and dodged without great effort. Not surprising. Mike knew he was a terrible shot.

He turned back around. Eleven had a well-formed snowball in her hand, and an impish look on her face.

"Who are you going to hit?" He asked.

She peered around him at the brothers scrambling around in the snow, and at Nancy, throwing fistfuls of loose powder on them if they got too close. Mike watched as her gaze moved from them to Joyce and Hopper, leaning against the too-large base of the would-be snowman, sharing a smoke.

"Them?" He asked, surprised at her daring.

She nodded, and mentally lifted the snowball from her hand.

Hopper's bark of protest signaled the sound of true battle, for after El's telekinetic attack reigned powdery chill over him and Joyce, there was no going back. He hit El with his revenge, giving her the first taste of snow. Will, Mike, and El teamed up against the two adults, while Jonathan and Nancy split — she with the kids, and he with Joyce and Hopper. It was a lopsided fight, but a fun one. Nancy helped them shore up a battlement around the base of the snowman to hide behind as they formed an ammo supply. Jonathan, Joyce, and Hopper were quicker at that, and a hail of projectiles rained down them steadily.

Mike and Will skidded through the snow as they ran suicide missions beyond their shelter, lobbing snow bombs with remarkably poor aim. Nancy meanwhile sniped them off far more expertly over their newly formed wall. Eleven supplied her with hasty ammunition. Once, when Mike returned from a failed mission covered in snow and laughing, she grabbed his arm and pulled him down to her level. Cold and wet seeped through his pants as he knelt beside her and the pile of snowballs she'd made.

Her eyes flashed wickedly. "My turn."

He grinned and motioned for Will to return.

Nancy glanced back. "What's going on?"

"Keep distracting them, we have a plan," he told her quickly.

Will made a mad dash for cover, but a snowball knocked him face-first into the snow inches from base. He lifted his head, snow clinging to his cheeks and forehead, laughing.

"Will, are you okay?" Joyce asked from across the field of battle.

He waved an arm at her dismissively.

"Come on," Mike urged. "El has a plan."

Will crawled the rest of the way and wiped his face. "Good. They're way better than us."

"Speak for yourself," Nancy said over her shoulder.

Mike gave El a nod, and she grinned. Her chin dipped and her eyes darkened in that look of concentration. Three snowballs lifted into the air and rocketed straight to their intended victims. Within a second, three more followed them. And three more. Barrage after precisely aimed telekinetic barrage found their marks until her ammo ran out and the cries of their ambushed opponents died down.

"Okay, okay, we surrender!" Hopper's voice called from deep within the trees.

They all peeked over the edge of their battlement and saw their enemies staggering out from behind various trees, absolutely covered in snow.

Mike laughed. Everyone was in good moods, and this had been nothing but fun — yet he still felt a smug sense of satisfaction at seeing Hopper so thoroughly bested by someone he liked to pretend was under his control.

Eleven glanced at Mike with a look he recognized — had seen before, when she made Troy wet himself. He thrilled at the memory, at the surge of attraction he felt in that moment, and grinned.

"Are you okay, Mom?" Will asked when the others arrived.

Joyce shook snow out of the hood on her coat. She smiled, no sign of annoyance anywhere about her. "We deserved it."

"Yeah, we should have had the girl who took out a monster and an interdimensional gate on our team," Jonathan laughed.

Will nodded. "That was awesome!"

"Well, I'm officially cold. We gonna finish this thing, or what?" Hopper asked, kicking at the large round base of the snowman.

They tore down the makeshift barrier and used it to roll a second ball. Everyone took the task with elevated moods and even the shivering that soon set in didn't dampen their fun.

Through it all, though, Mike found himself frequently distracted by Eleven's soft sounds of happiness — a little laugh here, a gasp there, and the occasional utterance of his own name when she wanted him. She paid a good deal of attention to Will too, but Mike didn't think anything of it. The two clearly had a unique kind of connection, but it didn't feel threatening to his own feelings for her.

They finished stacking the snowman. Jonathan and Will went off to hunt for good twigs as arms, and Nancy went to find the other trimmings they'd need. Hopper and Joyce went inside to warm up and start some cocoa. It left Mike and El suddenly and quite unexpectedly alone.

He couldn't deny being glad of this fact. She had become irresistibly alluring throughout this winter escapade — her cheeks and nose pink from the sting of cold made her eyes seem brighter somehow, and tiny snow crystals clung to the curls which stuck out around the edges of her hat. More than the physical attraction, though, her obvious happiness overwhelmed him. He'd never seen her happy like this in all the time we was with him last year. But between the Snow Ball and tonight, he'd witnessed her radiance. She was beautiful.

Mike had harbored crushes before, but not like this. No girl had ever taken possession of so much of him. Just looking at her like this made it difficult to breathe. She'd been through so much, had endured so much, but somehow could still stand here beside him, marveling at the sight of snow falling around them in a cascading star field.

She glanced at him and caught him in his stare. He tried to look away, embarrassed, but her magnetic gaze drew him again and he found himself falling into those inky, infinite pools.

His heart pounded a nervous rhythm in his chest as he tentatively took her hands in his. The fabric of their gloves separated their touch, but he felt the thrill of it anyway.

She didn't pull away, didn't resist. She even drew nearer. This, the girl who had flinched away at his attempted touch when he first saw her tattoo. He'd been this close and closer to her before, but each time he marveled anew at her trust in him, allowing his touch.

His heart beat a little faster now, a sort of panic rising in the midst of his wonder, knowing that the others could return at any moment and break this spell. He didn't want that. He wanted her all to himself, for as long as he could.

"El," he started, though he didn't really know what to say.

The look in her eye was too much, and he too overcome for anything other than one action. He closed the last few inches between them with a quick, hasty kiss. When he pulled away, she looked at him with that pleased surprise and so much more, and without quite planning to, he moved in again. This time, he lingered just a little longer.

When they parted again, he searched her face to make sure she was alright. She looked at the ground, her cheeks far rosier than before and a sweet little smile playing at the corner of her mouth. When she finally met his eye again, he saw that she was more than okay with it.

The snow fell around them in silent procession, wrapping them in the peaceful quiet of mute winter.

He let her hands drop and stepped back, seeing that her gaze moved beyond him to the woods. He turned.

Jonathan and Will were making their way back, laughing and joking with one another.

Eleven let out a shaky breath and glanced again at Mike, shrugging a little.

He nodded. The moment was over. But at least he'd been able to share something of his feelings for her before the interruption.

"We found some good ones!" Will called, waving one of the sticks in the air.

"Good," Mike called back. "Come on, it's freezing."

…

That night, Eleven crawled into her bed with a heart almost too full to bear. She'd struck out on her own earlier in the year in desperate search of what home meant. Hopper's lies made her feel as trapped as in the lab, despite his attempts to call it home. Mike and his promise of home had been lost to her. Becky wanted to give her a home, but Mama sent her to find another. Eleven was certain she wouldn't have been happy there anyway, forever living with the reminder of what her mother had become trying to rescue her. Kali tried to make her a home too, but it was a home built on revenge and hunting and running. Eleven had ultimately determined that her true home lay behind her, not ahead, and she went back to rescue the people who needed her help as much as she needed their love.

Now she'd found something more. That feeling of family hadn't faded over the course of the evening. It had only grown stronger. And now that she'd felt it, she wanted more of it. Wanted to feel it every day.

She twisted the crank on her music box, letting the chiming little melody wash over her as she remembered the feel of Mike's cold lips pressed against her own, and the fluttery feelings elicited from it. Nestling into her new fluffy blanket, she wondered how it was possible that a group of people could have become more necessary to her than anything else in the world, as indispensable as air. She used to think all humans were like the scientists at the lab. But some of them, like the first man who helped her with clothing and food, were kind and good and selfless. Like Kali, she had collected her favorite of these people and surrounded herself. Now she didn't know how she'd ever do without them again. She'd felt it for Mike from the beginning, almost from the very first, but now she felt that for Hopper too, and Joyce and her boys, and Nancy, and Dustin and Lucas — an ardent need to have them all in her life. To be with them. Especially Hopper, and especially Mike.

She hugged the music box to her chest and let the music, echoing the things she felt but had no words for, carry her off to dreams of snow and mothers, fathers, and brothers. And somewhere amidst those dreams, she too dreamed of the kisses given to her by someone who was decidedly not a brother, and much more than a friend.