After slipping through the crevice in the tree, the air changed.
Cold. Sharp. Clean.
It struck his face like a slap—like a memory he'd forgotten how to feel.
Zero stumbled forward, knees buckling. Dirt clung to his bloodied hands. His back screamed, lungs burned like fire. Every muscle throbbed with exhaustion. But none of it mattered.
Because he was out.
Out of the nightmare.
Out of the fucking Upside Down.
After four long, brutal years.
Zero collapsed to his knees, fists pounding the forest floor. Then came the scream—a raw, guttural sound that tore from his chest like it had been waiting the whole time. It wasn't pain. It wasn't fear.
It was release.
It echoed through the trees like a beast had broken free from its cage. Birds scattered. Somewhere far off, something ran. But for once, he wasn't the thing being hunted.
Panting hard, he dropped onto his side and closed his eyes. His body trembled. His arms were shaking from the Demogorgon fight. Blood slid down his legs—some fresh, some dried to black. His shirt was torn, soaked red and brown.
But he was breathing.
He was alive.
And for the first time in years, the silence didn't press down like a weight. It was soft. Real.
Then came the voice. Gentle. Human.
"Are you… okay?"
His eyes snapped open.
She stood there. The girl from before. Concern in her eyes, dirt on her face, blood on her clothes—but solid. Real. Alive. Beside her, the tall guy—Jonathan—hovered protectively.
They'd been hugging when he emerged, probably still shaking from their own encounter. And now they looked at him like he'd just crawled out of a grave.
He guessed, in a way, he had.
Zero pushed himself upright with a pained grunt, resting his back against a tree. "Okay?" he muttered with a wry smile. "You just helped me escape hell after four fucking years. I should be thanking you."
Her eyes widened. "Four years? You've been in there that long?"
"Yeah," he rasped, brushing dirt from his face. "Four years. Dozens of near-death escapes. And more monsters than nightmares could hold."
She stepped closer, squinting slightly. "Wait… you looked different. Inside. Your hair. Your face. It changed."
Zero smirked faintly. "Magic trick."
She narrowed her eyes, unconvinced. "Iam not four years old, you know."
"Could've fooled me," Jonathan muttered.
Zero snorted. "Well, this is awkward," he said dryly, gesturing vaguely between them. "Middle of the night. Lost in the woods. Post-horror hug. You two a couple or something?"
They both flinched like they'd been electrocuted.
"We're not—!" the girl said quickly.
"No," Jonathan echoed, red in the face.
Zero chuckled, then winced, clutching his side. "Easy. I'm just messing with you."
Then he saw the blood.
Nancy gasped. "You're bleeding. A lot."
"I've had worse."
Jonathan moved immediately. "There's a med kit in the car."
Zero tried to wave him off, but the taller guy was already pulling him up. "Save the tough guy act for later. You're not dying on my watch."
They got him into the backseat of a beat-up station wagon. Nancy grabbed the first aid kit and got to work. Jonathan hovered in the front, handing her gauze and alcohol.
Zero winced but stayed still.
"No hospitals," he warned flatly.
"We're not stupid," Jonathan said. "No records. No questions."
Zero nodded approvingly.
Nancy began cleaning the blood from a gash on his thigh. "You're seriously gonna stitch this yourself?"
"I've done it before."
And he did.
Hands practiced. Movements clean. Not a flinch.
Nancy watched, stunned. "How the hell are you not screaming?"
Zero didn't answer right away. Then, quietly, "I used up all my screams already."
That silenced them both.
When the bleeding stopped, he leaned back, exhaling shakily.
"So," he said after a moment. "Names?"
"Jonathan Byers," the guy replied, wiping his hands.
The girl hesitated. "Nancy Wheeler."
Zero nodded slowly. "Call me Zero."
Nancy tilted her head. "That's not a name. That's a number."
"Exactly."
"Why would anyone choose that?"
His expression shifted. Not angry—just… distant. "Because sometimes," he said, voice low, "you lose everything. Even your name."
That shut down the question.
---
They sat in silence for a moment.
Then Zero looked up, his voice quiet. "What were you two doing out there, anyway?"
Nancy and Jonathan shared a look, then began explaining. The missing people. The disappearances. Barb, Will. The strange sightings. The creature. The portal.
Zero listened, eyes narrowing slightly.
When they finished, he looked at her. "You're brave," he said quietly. "Too brave."
She blinked. "What?"
"You walked into the dark," he said. "Not knowing what was on the other side. That's either incredibly stupid—or brave as hell."
Jonathan bristled. "We had to. Barb was Nancy's best friend. Will's my little brother. What were we supposed to do—sit at home and act like none of it was real?"
Zero leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "I respect that. I do. But let me tell you something."
He pointed toward the trees.
"That place back there? It doesn't care about how brave you are. It doesn't reward courage. It devours it. You need more than guts. You need skill. Strategy. You need to know when to fight, and when to run. And even then…"
He shook his head slowly.
"Even then, it might still get you."
Silence followed. The weight of his words pressed against the windows like fog.
Then Zero gave a faint grin. "Next time you decide to take a walk through hell… give me a heads up."
Jonathan raised an eyebrow. "You planning to stick around?"
Zero shrugged. "For now."
Nancy looked at him, curious. "Why?"
He stared out the window.
"Because I don't think it's over."
Something deep in the woods groaned.
And Zero—tired, stitched, barely standing—smiled like someone who had seen worse.
"Not even close."