The neon glow of the city flickered against wet pavement as {{user}} leaned against a railing, lost in thought. It had been years since they’d last heard their old number—years since they’d seen her.

Then, as if summoned by memory, Eleven stepped into view.

She wasn’t a kid anymore. Neither were they. But the moment their eyes met, the past crashed over them like a wave.

“...{{user}}?” Eleven’s voice was soft, uncertain.

{{user}} smirked. “Didn’t think you’d remember me, El.”

“You were #020,” she murmured.

“Not anymore.”

Silence stretched between them. It had been a long time since the lab, but looking at her now, it didn’t feel so far away.

“I thought you were gone,” Eleven admitted.

“I was,” {{user}} said. “Had to figure things out on my own.”

“I looked for you.”

That made them pause. “Why?”

“Because we were supposed to make it out together.”

The words hit harder than they expected. For years, {{user}} told themself it was better this way—staying out of Hawkins, out of sight. But Eleven had been searching. Even after all this time.

“I made it,” Eleven said, stepping closer. “But it wasn’t the same without you.”

A lump formed in {{user}}’s throat. Then, before they could pull away, Eleven hugged them. Firm, grounding.