The house didn't settle after the calls ended.
If anything, it felt more crowded like every secret pressed against the walls, listening.
Joyce set the phone back on its cradle and rubbed her hands together, trying to shake the tension out of them. The kids clustered near the living room, sitting on the floor or the edge of the couch, quieter than Thomas had ever seen them. Even Dustin, normally unable to sit still, seemed weighed down by the reality of what they were about to attempt.
Eleven sat wrapped in a blanket, knees drawn up, eyes unfocused. She looked smaller than she had earlier, like using her power had drained something deeper than strength. Mike sat close enough that their shoulders almost touched, his body angled protectively toward her.
Hopper stood near the kitchen counter, arms crossed, jaw tight.
"No one's going home tonight," Joyce said firmly, breaking the silence. "I told their parents they're safe here. That I'm watching them."
Lucas looked up sharply. "You didn't tell them why, right?"
Joyce shook her head. "No. And I won't."
Hopper exhaled. "Good. Because the fewer people who know about this, the better."
Thomas shifted his weight. He could feel the system sitting quietly at the back of his mind not active, not warning. Just… aware. Watching the same way he was.
"So," Hopper said, eyes sweeping the room. "Talk to me. What's the plan?"
Dustin didn't hesitate. "We figure out how to make contact again."
Hopper raised an eyebrow. "Again."
"It worked before," Dustin said. "That means it's possible. Just not the way we tried last time."
Thomas spoke before the tension could spike. "We didn't understand it then. We do now."
Lucas frowned. "Do we?"
Thomas crouched so he was level with the group. "Think of it like Dungeons & Dragons."
Dustin immediately brightened. "Oh, this I get."
"The Upside Down," Thomas continued, "is the same map. Same layout. But the terrain is wrong. Everything is heavier. Sound doesn't travel the same way. Neither does energy."
Mike nodded slowly. "So the walkies are like… a low-level spell."
"Exactly," Thomas said. "They only work when conditions are right."
"And water changes the conditions," Dustin said, connecting the dots. "It amplifies the signal."
Joyce looked between them. "You're saying water helps you hear him?"
Eleven nodded. "It's clearer."
Hopper ran a hand over his face. "Clearer enough to find him?"
Eleven hesitated. "Maybe."
That single word was enough.
Dustin stood abruptly. "Okay. Science time."
Lucas blinked. "Already?"
"We don't have time to wait," Dustin said. "If this is real if Will's really alive then every minute matters."
Hopper watched him carefully. "What exactly are you suggesting?"
Dustin took a breath. "We need to build something. Something that blocks everything out except the signal."
Thomas straightened. "Sensory deprivation."
Joyce frowned. "Like… isolation?"
"Exactly," Dustin said. "No sound. No light. Just water."
Mike glanced at Eleven. "Can you do that?"
Eleven's fingers tightened in the blanket. "For a little while."
Thomas noticed the way her shoulders sagged when she said it.
"That's the limit," he said quietly. "We don't push past that."
Hopper nodded once. "Good. Because whatever this costs her we don't make her pay it alone."
Dustin was already moving toward the phone.
He dialed quickly, pacing as the line rang.
"Hello?" Mr. Clarke's voice sounded tired but alert.
"Mr. Clarke, hi," Dustin said. "Sorry it's late. This is kind of important. Hypothetically."
A pause. "Alright," Mr. Clarke said. "Hypothetically."
Dustin took a breath. "If someone wanted to create a completely isolated environment like total sensory deprivation what would they need?"
Silence stretched.
"…Are you talking about a deprivation tank?" Mr. Clarke asked carefully.
Dustin's eyes lit up. "Yes. Hypothetically."
"Well," Mr. Clarke said slowly, "you'd need a large container. Completely sealed from light and sound."
"Would a pool work?" Dustin asked.
"…In theory," Mr. Clarke said. "Yes."
Dustin nodded vigorously.
"And you'd need salt," Mr. Clarke continued. "A lot of it. Enough to make the water buoyant."
"How much?" Dustin asked.
"Hundreds of pounds," Mr. Clarke said. "Why?"
"Science project," Dustin replied instantly.
"…Of course," Mr. Clarke said dryly.
"And if someone was trying to perceive something beyond normal sensory limits," Dustin added, choosing his words carefully, "would that help?"
Another pause. Longer.
"In theory," Mr. Clarke said, quieter now, "yes. But it would be extremely dangerous. Severe strain. Physical side effects."
Dustin didn't respond.
"Dustin," Mr. Clarke added, "whatever you're doing be careful."
"We will," Dustin said, and hung up.
He turned back to the room.
"We need a pool," he said. "And a lot of salt."
Silence followed.
Hopper broke it. "I know where we can get the salt."
Everyone looked at him.
Joyce's eyes widened slightly. "Jim—"
"School" Hopper said.
Thomas felt the shift immediately. This wasn't theory anymore. This was preparation.
Eleven hugged the blanket tighter around herself. "I can try," she said softly. "Just… not for long."
Mike reached for her hand. "You don't have to."
She looked at him. "I want to."
Thomas met Hopper's gaze. "Short attempts. Clear rules. The moment it gets worse we stop."
Hopper nodded. "Agreed."
Outside, the wind picked up, rattling the windows like something impatient.
The plan wasn't complete yet.
But it was real.
And somewhere, far beyond Hawkins, something had already begun to feel the board shift like players learning the rules and daring to move anyway.