Epilogue - One Month Later

Christmas wreaths hung in every window of the Wheeler house as snow drifted weightless to the ground. In the basement sat four boys around a table intent on the outcome of a Dungeons and Dragons campaign in full swing.

"Something is coming. Something angry," said Mike glancing seriously between his three friends. "Hungry for your blood. It is coming."

Dustin and Lucas waited anxiously.

"What is it?" asked Will eagerly.

"It's the thessalhydra, I'm telling you," Dustin predicted knowingly.

Lucas made an annoyed gesture. "It's not the thessalhydra."

"I'm telling you, it's the thessalhydra," persisted Dustin.

Mike slammed the game piece he had been hiding from the others on the table and proclaimed, "The thessalhydra!"

"Damn it!" groaned Dustin as Lucas threw up his arms in defeat.

"It roars in anger!" Mike narrated then he turned to Will. "Will, your action!"

Will petitioned Dustin and Lucas. "What should I do? I-"

"Fireball him," ordered Lucas as if it were the obvious solution.

Will glanced at Dustin who brought his hand to his chin in thought. Then, with a smirk he advised Will, "Fireball the son of a bitch."

The four boys grinned appreciatively and Will reached for the dice. Shaking them quickly in his hand he sent them flying over the table.

"Fourteen!" the boys exclaimed excitedly.

"Direct hit!" Mike announced. "Will the Wise's fireball hits the thessalhydra! It makes a painful…" (he screeched like a dying animal), "and then…" (he dropped to his knees), "it crumbles to the ground."

He reached out to Will who waited in great anticipation as he continued, "It's clawed hand reaches for you one last time and, and, and, and…"

Mike threw the rest of himself to the floor, feigning death and as one Dustin, Lucas, and Will leapt to their feet in celebration.

"Yeah!" they exclaimed.

Will wrapped his arms around Lucas in a triumphant hug and he joined Lucas and Dustin in a victory dance around the table as Mike climbed back into his chair.

Mike finished the conclusion. "Lucas, cuts off its seven heads, and Dustin places them into his bag of holding," (Dustin solemnly held up his backpack) "You carry the heads out of the dungeons, victorious," (Lucas gritted his teeth and gave a victorious grunt) "and you present them to King Tristan. He thanks you for your bravery and service."

"Whoa. Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa," Dustin held his hand up looking confused as the sat back at the table. "That's not it, is it?"

"No, there's a medal ceremony-" Mike added thinking he wanted more pomp.

"Oh, a medal ceremony," repeated Dustin sarcastically. "What are you talking about?"

"And-" Mike wracked his brains for something more glamorous.

"The campaign was way too short," Lucas pointed out.

"Yeah!" agreed Will.

"It was ten hours!" griped Mike.

"But it doesn't make any sense!" Dustin snapped.

"It makes sense!"

"Uh, no, what about the lost knight?"

"And the proud princess?" questioned Lucas.

"And those weird flowers in the cave?" Will reminded him.

"I don't know, it's-" Mike began defensively. However, he and the others looked up as the basement door opened and someone came down the steps from the first floor.

"Oh geez, what's that smell?" Jonathan asked as he made a face. "Have you guys been playing games all day, or just farting?"

The boys giggled amused and with a wide smile Lucas said, "Oh, that's just Dustin. He farted."

Dustin's smile slipped off his face and Lucas began to imitate fart noises as he sang, "Dustin farted. Dustin farted. Dustin farted. Dustin farted!"

"Okay. Very mature, Lucas," Dustin said as he sang, and when he continued he whined, "Oh, shut up!"

"Will," Jonathan beckoned his brother who looked up. "Come on."

Will got to his feet and gathered his things then waved to the others. "Bye guys."

"Bye, Will, " said Dustin and Lucas.

"See you, Will," waved Mike.

Lucas raised his arm as Will passed him and they high-fived. Then, Dustin came over and punched Lucas playfully on the shoulder. Lucas stood from his seat and hit him back, so Dustin retaliated.

"Stop," Dustin told him.

"No you stop," retorted Lucas.

"No you stop."

Soon their playful fight turned into a wrestling match in which Lucas had Dustin in a headlock. Dustin struggled and groaned as he attempted to free himself. Lucas let out a high-pitched squeal as Dustin twisted his other arm.

"Yeah, scream!" he mocked Lucas. "You're like a little girl!"

Unnoticed by the two warring friends, Mike had turned away from their fight to peer sadly at the small fort in the back of the basement. Mike had not touched it in a month and preferred to keep it up. It was comforting somehow as if its resident was merely away on a trip and would be back. Mike's eyes lowered to the floor as the now familiar hollow feeling replaced his earlier jubilation. There had been no sign or contact from Eleven. She was gone. And it was times like these, when he laughed and played with his friends and found himself spending hours without thinking of her, that he missed her most.

Upstairs Jonathan and Will exited the basement.

"So, you have fun?" Jonathan asked.

"Yeah," said a smiling Will.

"Hey, boys," said Karen, who had looked up from the Christmas cake she was decorating as they passed.

"Hi," Will greeted cheerfully.

"Hey, Mrs. Wheeler," said Jonathan respectfully.

Karen smiled warmly at the pair. "Hey, wish your mom a Merry Christmas for me, okay?"

"Yeah," assured Will.

"Yeah, thank you. Uh, Merry Christmas," Jonathan added.

"Merry Christmas."

The boys continued on their way to the front door and Jonathan continued his inquiry about Will's day. "So, uh, you win?"

"Yeah," Will affirmed proudly.

"Awesome."

"Hey, Jonathan, wait up."

Jonathan glanced up to see Nancy darting quickly down the stairs with a wrapped Christmas gift in her hands. She walked straight to him and presented the gift to him.

"Uh…" Jonathan took the gift awkwardly

"Merry Christmas," she told him.

"Thanks, um. I - I didn't get you anything," he admitted with an apologetic smile. "I - I feel bad."

"No! No, it's uh, it's not really a present," She smiled up at him as she tried to explain. "It's um...Well, you'll see."

Then, she leaned forward and, standing on tiptoe, she kissed his cheek. He stared down at her surprised and she gazed down at her feet, blushing. Yet, when she peered back up at him he smiled kindly and said, "Merry Christmas."

Jonathan turned away and asked his brother, "You ready?"

"Yeah."

"Let's go."

Outside of the Wheeler's house Jonathan and Will climbed into his car. He rubbed his hands together for warmth then glanced at Will who had not put his seatbelt on.

"All right. Buckle up," he ordered.

Will buckled his seat belt over himself as Jonathan started the engine. He looked down at the gift Nancy had given Jonathan and felt a wave of curiosity.

"Can I open it?"

Jonathan looked from the gift to his kid brother and smiled. Fast as Will was growing he still hadn't lost that childlike excitement over opening presents. "Yeah, sure."

He watched just as curiously as Will tore off the wrapping paper.

"Whoa," mumbled Will impressed. He held up the box for Jonathan to see, revealing a brand new camera. One of the best. "Pretty cool."

Jonathan chuckled softly to himself. "Yeah. Yeah, pretty cool."

He threw the car into drive and they headed home through the snowy night.

In the Wheeler's living room Ted snored loudly in his recliner, a bowl of popcorn sitting in his lap, as Nancy stepped over his feet and around the coffee table where she joined Steve on the sofa.

He smiled contentedly as she curled up beside him and he wrapped his arm around her.

Stroking her side he asked, "Did you give it to him?"

She peered up into his face and nodded. "Yeah."

He grinned, satisfied, and held her hand in his as she nestled her head tiredly on his shoulder.

Christmas music played quietly among the buzz of chatter in the small Hawkins police station. On the bulletin board hung several holiday greeting cards among a few newspaper clippings including one featuring a photo of Will Byers and the title, "The Boy Who Came Back to Life". Throughout the station lights and decorations were strung up on walls and near the entrance Flo spoke animatedly to one of the police officers and his wife.

Another officer entered the Christmas party, escorting his wife. He nodded in greeting to one of his colleagues and they made their way over passing Hopper as they did so. Hopper was busy zipping up his fur-lined coat, an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips. He turned and grabbed a tupperware dish from a side table and headed over to the refreshments where he began to fill the dish with food.

"You leaving already, Chief?" asked Powell.

"Oh, come on, you think I actually wanted to come to this thing?" Hopper commented. "I was just hungry."

"Oh, yeah, that's the spirit," piped Callahan wearing a festive elf's hat.

"Well , your wife doesn't have time to cook for me, you know what I'm saying?" quipped Hopper with a sly grin.

Powell and the other officers laughed at Callahan's expense as Hopper made his way toward the exit. He was ambushed by Flo who reached up and snatched the cigarette from his mouth. He waited for her to say something biting.

"Merry christmas, Hop," she patted his chest.

"Mmm," Hopper smirked.

Flo chuckled as she walked off and Hopper left the party behind him.

A few miles away Hopper drove his truck down a snowy road before pulling off to the side. He turned his truck off and pulled out his flashlight, which he switched on, and the tupperware dish he had filled with food from the party. He passed the front of his truck and walked into the dark woods, using his flashlight to guide him over the cold ground.

Snow crunched underfoot as he walked between trees and stepped over a large log. Finally, he crouched before a wooden box which was nailed to the ground. It's lid, which was slanted was covered with snow. Nevertheless, he lifted the lid and set the food dish inside. Then, reaching into his coat pocket, he pulled out a pack of Eggos, which he had seram-wrapped earlier that night and carefully set it on top of the dish. He closed the lid. Looking out past the trees into the night all he could think about was how cold it was out there. With a sad smile he retrieved his flashlight and trekked back to his truck leaving the food in the snow-capped box.

The Byers' humble home glowed with warm lights and Christmas music played softly as the family dog barked. But, when he was ignored, he quickly placed his front paws up on the kitchen counter and snagged a large chunk of ham from the cutting board.

In the living room Jonathan asked Will, "What you got there? That one of yours?"

"Yeah," Will replied, holding a large wrapped gift in his hands as he squatted by the Christmas tree.

"Looks pretty big," Jonathan mumbled as he focused in on his brother trying to guess what was inside the gift through the lens of his new camera. The light flashed as he snapped the photo and then he turned to see if his mother needed help in the kitchen. Will dropped the gift he was holding and Jonathan told him, "Be careful. You'll break it."

Joyce was setting dishes of food onto the dining room table when Jonathan came in and snapped a photo of her. The bright flash surprised her and she glanced up wide-eyed with an embarrassed smile. She placed her hands up in defense.

"What are you...what are you doing?"

Jonathan chuckled. "Documenting."

"Oh, why…" she complained.

"Because…" he snapped another photo as she laughed. "It looks great."

"Oh, this is just so overcooked," she fretted, gesturing at the meat. Then, she picked up the spoon in the mashed potatoes and scooped some up before letting it drip back into the bowl. "And look the potatoes are runny."

"Mom."

"They're so runny."

Jonathan edged around the table and patted his mother's back. "Mom, it's gonna be great."

"It's definitely an Atari," announced Will as he took his seat beside his mother at the dining table.

"An a-what-i?" she asked.

"The green present. It's an Atari," he repeated. "I felt Dustin's today, it's the same exact weight."

Joyce peeked at Jonathan who looked down at his plate.

"Really? Well…" she muttered.

"Yeah," confirmed Will unaware of Jonathan failing to smother his grin from across the table.

"We'll have to see won't we?" Joyce said simply.

Will glanced momentarily at his plate, then he stood from the table and began to walk away. Joyce reached out to him as if to pull him back.

"Hey, no more snooping," she told him.

"No, I forgot to wash my hands," he replied. "I'll be right back."

"Okay," she turned to Jonathan as Will strode away and whispered, "He's washing his hands?"

Jonathan laughed merrily and laid his dinner cloth over his lap feeling this was going to be the best Christmas ever.

Will stood over the bathroom sink, breathing heavily as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. He felt nauseous and woozy. Suddenly, his body heaved and he began to cough and gag. Leaning his head close to the sink, he retched out a fairly large amount of matter into the sink. Whatever it was wriggled and slid down the drain, leaving a slimy trail. He spit into the sink and glanced back up at his pale reflection. Then, he turned the faucet on, the water washing away the evidence. A small moan escaped him after the havoc of vomiting.

Suddenly, the world flashed before his eyes and he was standing in a dead version of his family's bathroom. Water ran from the cracked faucet, horrible vines covered every surface, and dead flakes floated through the air. It was cold and dark, and what light there was flickered. And just as suddenly, he was back home. No vines, no flickering light, the water running from an undamaged faucet.

Will caught sight of his shocked expression, unsure of what had just happened. He turned the faucet off and looked anxiously around the bathroom as if expecting it to change again.

"Thanks," Jonathan said to his mother and they shared a laugh as Will joined them at the table.

Joyce's smile slipped as she saw the pallor of Will's face.

"Are you okay?" she asked him.

"Yeah, I'm okay," Will smiled with a shrug.

"Mmm. Very good, Mom," Jonathan said appreciatively as he ate having noticed nothing. "Mmm. Hey, Mom. Did Will tell you about, uh, the game?"

"Oh, yeah," piped Will eagerly.

"What game?" she asked curiously.

"I threw a fireball at him and…" Will imitated an explosion. "Dead."

Joyce frowned. "Wait, what is...you mean, this is…"

"No, it's just Dungeons and Dragons."

"Dungeons and Dragons. Right," she repeated.

"It's fun," Will told her.

The family chatted happily over their Christmas dinner and Will Byers said nothing of what had happened.