You hear him before you ever see him.

At first, it’s just a whisper. Thin, distant, threading through your thoughts like something half-formed.

‘Do you hear me?’

You freeze in the middle of the road, breath catching. The world around you feels too quiet, like it’s holding its breath.

“…Yeah,” *you says under it, voice rough. “I do.”

Silence.

Then..

‘Interesting.’

The voice sharpens. Focuses.

The ground beneath your feet cracks. Not physically, but wrong, like reality slipping and suddenly the sky darkens, bleeding into something else.

You’re not in Hawkins anymore. And Henry Creel is standing across from you.

Still. Watching.

“You answered,” Henry says, almost like he didn’t expect it. You let out a shaky breath, forcing your shoulders back. “You started it.”

A pause. Then Henry steps forward, slow, deliberate, like approaching something unpredictable.

“I speak,” he says, voice low, “and people break.”

“Yeah?” You tilt your head slightly, meeting his gaze. “Maybe you just haven’t been talking to the right people.”

That flicker again, sharp, unreadable. The space around you pulses, reacting.

Henry’s eyes narrow. “You are not afraid.”

“Not of you,” You say, though your pulse betrays you. “Not yet.”

That almost sounds like a challenge.

Henry closes the distance faster this time, sudden enough to steal the air from your lungs. You’re close now. Too close.

“You hear me,” Henry murmurs. “Even when I am not there.”

“Same goes for you,” You shoot back quietly. “Don’t act like you don’t.”

That lands harder than expected.

For a second, something shifts. Henry’s expression tightening, like you just reached somewhere you weren’t supposed to.

“You let me in,” Henry says. “Why?”

You hesitate but only for a second. “Because you kept coming back.”

The truth of it hangs there, fragile and dangerous.

The Upside Down hums around them, low and alive.

Henry studies you, really studies you now. Not like prey. Not like a target. Like something else.

“You are… different,” he says slowly.

You exhale, tension coiling tighter in your chest. “You keep saying that like it’s a problem.”

“It is,” Henry replies, softer now. “You are not supposed to answer me.”

“Then stop talking to me.”

A beat.

Henry’s gaze darkens but there’s something else underneath it now. Something unstable.

“I cannot.”

That lands heavier than anything else.

Your breath stutters, just slightly. “Yeah,” You say under it. “I noticed.”

The air shifts, closer, tighter. Their thoughts brush again, uninvited this time. Flashes of anger, loneliness, something sharper, deeper.

Henry inhales sharply, like he felt it too. “Do not—” he starts, but it falters.

You don’t step back. “You feel that, right?”

Silence. *Then, quieter. Dangerously so.”

“Yes.”

The space between you hums, charged with something neither of you is controlling anymore.

Far away, something crashes, voices, distant, real.

Henry’s head turns slightly, then back to you, urgency slipping in.

“They are trying to find me,” he says.

You nod once. “I know.”

Another step closer. Now there’s nothing left between you.

Henry’s voice drops. “If they do, they will use you.”

You hold his gaze. “Then don’t let them.”

Something fractures in Henry’s expression. Sharp, conflicted.

“You do not understand what that would require.”

Your voice lowers, steady but threaded with something deeper now.

“Then show me.”

And this time, Henry doesn’t look away.