His shoes made squeaking sounds on the pristine floors of the chemistry building as Mike Wheeler headed to his organic chemistry lab. He was running a little behind schedule. As he rounded the corner into the adjacent hallway something caught his eye. There was an alcove with a couple of chairs and he noticed that underneath one of the chairs was a black and white composition book. He stopped abruptly, causing his shoes to squeak yet again, and picked up the book. He thought later when he had time he would see if there was a name inside it and try to return it to the owner. It was what he'd want to happen if he'd lost his journal.

When he entered the lab everyone looked up at him. He was clearly late. The professor only looked slightly annoyed as it was the beginning of the fall semester and students were still learning their routes to their various classes. Mike scanned the room for an empty seat. The only one left available was near the back of the classroom on the left. There was a girl sitting alone at the two person lab table, her head bent down and pouring over a textbook. Mike headed in her direction.

He listened as the professor explained what the lab would accomplish over the semester, what experiments they would be doing, what hypotheses they would be testing. The lab was twice a week for three hours each, this one on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Mike could feel the girl sitting next to him, could tell when she shifted in her seat, could tell if she turned her head. When he had taken his seat she had looked up at him and he had time to think really pretty before the professor started talking. He spent the next fifteen minutes trying not to look at her directly.

Finally the students were given their assignment for the day, which basically was to get to know their equipment and their lab partner.

"So, um, I'm Mike. Mike Wheeler. I guess we'll be working together."

She looked at him, her eyes bright but sad. "I guess so." Her voice was quiet so Mike pressed on.

"What's your name?" He asked.

She sighed, looking at him from her seat, her head turned to face him. "It's Jane. I don't think it suits me but it's what my mother named me." She turned her head back toward her book.

"Well, what's your last name?" He persisted.

"It's Hawkins."

"Hey, that's cool! My hometown is called Hawkins!" Mike's smile spread across his face. "Where are you from?"

The girl, Jane, looked apprehensive. "Um, I moved around a lot. I don't really call any one place home."

Mike could see that if he wanted to know something about this girl he was going to have to work for it. He watched her for a minute or two as she toyed with a pipette.

"What do you like to do for fun?" Mike rummaged through his backpack and found a comic book.

"Fun? I don't get out a lot." She looked down at her notebook, though nothing was written in it. Mike frowned.

"What about your friends?"

"I don't really have any friends." Now Jane definitely didn't look back up at him. Mike felt like an idiot. He looked down at his comic book and thumbed through the pages.

"What's that?" Jane asked.

"X-Men #1. It's a reprint though. If I had the real one I wouldn't carry it around in my backpack." Mike laughed. "It's the first appearance of Jean Grey. I think she's cool."

"What makes her cool? What's an X-Man?"

Does she seriously not know who the X-Men are? The feeling of getting to introduce someone to one of his favorite comics was almost overwhelming.

"The X-Men are a group of superheroes, mostly mutants. They fight crime and bad mutants. They're pretty awesome." Mike flipped through the book to show her pictures.

"Mutants?"

"Well, like, they were born with this special gene that makes them different. They each have different special abilities or things that set them apart. Professor Xavier found most of them and started a school for them because the government wanted to kill them all. You know, because they think different is bad and they're afraid of real power."

"But you're not?" Her whole face seemed to question him.

"Definitely not. I wish there really were mutants. Like Jean Grey, for example. She's telekinetic, which means she can move stuff with her mind, and she's telepathic. I think it would be pretty amazing to know someone who could do that. I wish I could do that." Mike's voice got more quiet. He was looking down at his comic and didn't see how Jane was looking at him, how her eyes seemed more moist than before. As he looked back up she quickly turned her head away from him, becoming suddenly very interested in a rack of test tubes.

"So what do you do to pass the time at home if you don't go out much?" Mike changed the subject, thinking that she seemed a little more down than when he had first started talking to her.

"I don't know. I guess I like to write. It's nothing important. I just put my feelings on paper. Sometimes it helps me, sometimes not."

"I get it. I like to do that too. I used to write D&D campaigns for my friends. Even if it's nothing that anyone else likes, it feels good to try to be creative. It's nice to tell a story." Mike thought back to his favorite campaigns.

"D&D?" She didn't seem to be up on the popular culture of the past twenty years.

"Dungeons & Dragons. It's a role playing game with goblins and orcs and elves and fairies. We were a little bit nerdy."

"Mike, look around. This is the University of Chicago. I think everyone in this room is a little bit nerdy in some way."

It was the first thing she had said that was accompanied by a smile and Mike thought he might explode right there in the chem lab. Her eyes twinkled and the corners of her mouth turned up and oh, my god, she has dimples!

For the remainder of the lab that day Mike's brain played him a continuous loop of the only song he knew by the Cowboy Junkies. Heavenly wine and roses seem to whisper to me when you smile...

Sweet Jane

Eleven was seated at a table by herself waiting for her chemistry lab to begin when suddenly the door opened and in walked a tall, lanky boy with pale skin and black hair that looked like it wouldn't be out of place on a Muppet. She thought it was adorable but if her life had taught her anything, adorable wasn't a word that would be associated with her. She quickly realized that the only seat left was next to her and he was walking in her direction. She looked down at her textbook. Right before he sat down she allowed herself to look up at him.

His eyes are beautiful.

She dismissed the thought and looked back down. Blessedly the professor began speaking then and she had something else to focus her attention on. She found it to be difficult though. She was feeling antsy now and couldn't point out why. She shifted and all but squirmed in her seat.

Stop acting like an 8-year-old, Eleven.

When the professor told them to get to know their partner she felt uneasy, not because she didn't want to get to know him (she so did want that), but she was afraid of what he might ask her. She didn't like her name but couldn't tell him what she called herself so she said her name was Jane, it still feeling foreign coming from her lips. She also couldn't tell him the real story behind her last name. It was just too unbelievable. And it had to be a coincidence that his hometown was called Hawkins. It had to be.

But then he started talking about his comic book and she saw how his face lit up. She didn't really know anything about comics, had never even heard of the X-Men, but as he told her about them she was instantly intrigued. He seemed so excited when he was telling her about their powers. He seemed awed by them and unafraid. She felt an alarming warmth in her chest that was grossly out of place.

She had told him about her writing. She didn't know why she had done that, it was something that was only hers but she felt like she could trust him. It wasn't like he was ever going to read anything of hers anyway. Her favorite part of the lab that day was when he said something about how he and his friends were a little nerdy and she made a joke about how everyone there was a little nerdy. The way he had looked at her, laughing genuinely, his eyes never leaving hers, had made her feel woozy. She thought she could definitely go for feeling that way again.

When the lab was over the sun had started to set. She was packing her things into her backpack.

"I'll see you Thursday?" He was standing beside her. She now could see that he towered over her. She could smell his cologne.

"Thursday." She gave him a weak smile.

The colors of fall were already starting to creep onto the trees on campus, the ivy covered buildings offset by the changing trees making it look like something from an idealistic movie about college. She was almost at the bottom of the steps outside when she heard him call to her again.

"Hey, Jane?"

She stopped and turned around.

"Want me to walk you home? It's getting dark."

Yes. But you can't. I can't show you that.

"Thanks, but I'll be fine. It's not far." She offered him a little more of a smile.

"Um, okay. If you're sure." She noticed that he looked a little defeated.

"Maybe some other time. Thanks, Mike. See you Thursday."

Mike had almost forgotten about the journal. He was taking his books from his bag when he noticed it again. He thumbed through the pages and noticed that it was pretty full, page after page of small, neat handwriting. He only wanted to find a name inside but his eyes betrayed him and he found himself reading it. It was a passage in the middle of the journal and he found it captivating.

I didn't want to lie about it but it was the only way I could live anywhere. I needed documents for identification. The computer part was easy and I feel guilty but I have no one so I don't know what else I was supposed to do. I can't let them find me and if I try to go to the government I might as well resign myself to being a lab experiment again. I kind of hate my name but it's all I have from my mother. I can't use her last name because it would be too easy for them to put the pieces together so I used the name of the only town I could ever call home, even though it wasn't really a home. I like to think about what kinds of friends I might have made if I had been allowed to be a regular kid there.

Getting into school was easy. I didn't have to bend any rules there, though I am bending them as far as they can go to pay for it. I'm probably breaking rules. Well, not probably, I'm totally breaking rules but I have to. At least my upbringing made me good at science and math. I want to understand why I am the way I am though so that's what I'm doing at college. Or trying to do.

Mike felt like he was spying on someone. Surely this was some sort of fiction but it felt real and raw and like someone just putting thoughts into a journal. He forced himself to stop reading. There was no name indicated anywhere on it, just The 011 Journals written in the same neat handwriting on the front of the book. He put the journal back into his backpack and sat back on his bed. His thoughts turned quickly to Jane. He wondered what she sounded like when she laughed. He decided to make it his mission to find out.

On Thursday he made sure not to be late to lab. He and Jane worked on their experiment, the recrystallization of Phthalic acid. Mike thought she looked cute in her safety goggles. Once they had transferred their crystals and had done everything the experiment required, with Jane recording all of their findings on a sheet of paper, they put the crystals in the drawer of their table to allow them to dry, which was a long process that would yield their final product by the time of their next lab. Mike looked at the sheet of paper to see volumes and measurements Jane had recorded.

Hmm. Something seems familiar about this. Weird.

They still had some time left over so they chatted about random things. Eleven had never really just sat and chatted with someone. She hoped she didn't look silly.

She found out that he had two sisters and was the middle child. Eleven didn't want to go too in depth about her past but she did tell him that she had pretty much raised herself, that her parents were both dead and she was putting herself through college.

"You're putting yourself though college here and you don't have anyone? How are you doing that?"

She hadn't expected him to ask that. She had been feeling rather open talking to him and quickly shut herself off.

"I had some money saved up." Her entire demeanor changed and she knew it. She felt bad, having been having a nice time talking with him. She couldn't let him know how she was paying for school though. She was sure he would frown on white collar crimes.

"Hey, it's okay. I'm not judging you. I'm sorry you don't have anyone." Mike patted her back. It was the most contact she'd had in as long as she could remember and she felt herself leaning into it without even realizing it.

As much as she wanted to continue feeling his hand on her back she pulled herself away, giving him a shy smile. She concentrated on tying her shoe while her heart returned to its normal rhythm.

Their exchanges went back and forth in much the same way for the next couple of weeks. Mike would ask her questions that either she would answer or be vague about, but he found that even when she was vague he still enjoyed talking to her. Getting her to open up to him was a challenge he was happy to accept. They did their work and she recorded their findings.

As they were filing out of the lab one day Mike pulled her aside, gently tugging on her arm. Eleven felt her stomach drop.

"Do you want to go get something to eat with me? It's not a date or anything, I'm not being weird. I just don't want to eat alone and I don't have any food at my apartment so I get to either eat alone or go to the grocery store, and I don't want to go there tonight? Would you come with me? I'll sing for you. Please?"

He was wearing the most endearing dopey grin as he asked and before she knew what was happening Mike started singing a song she had never heard but that was in no way unpleasant. He was singing quietly so he wouldn't call attention to himself.

Anyone who's ever had a heart
Wouldn't turn around and break it
And anyone who's ever played a part
Wouldn't turn around and hate it
Sweet Jane, sweet Jane
Sweet, sweet Jane

Eleven had never been asked to go out to eat with anyone, and certainly no one had ever sung to her. She wasn't sure she would even know what to do, but his eyes looked so kind and his voice was so soft and his hand was still on her arm. She could feel the heat of his palm through her sweater. She nodded.

They ended up going to a little dive that had some of the best burgers in town, or so the sign promised. They snagged a booth at the back of the place.

"If you want to share something we can. They have some really good cheese sticks. They're big." Mike eyes widened as he said this and Eleven found herself wanting to laugh at his silly expression, but she kept her composure.

"I like cheese sticks."

They ordered some mozzarella sticks and a burger for each of them and talked while they waited.

"Where do you live? I'm not being creepy, I'm just making conversation. I'm not going to invade your domicile or anything."

The way he said it, so nonchalantly, using the word domicile, struck her as funny and she laughed.

Mike watched as her face lit up and she threw her head back slightly, her mouth both smiling and open, and listened as her laugh filled his ears. It was the sound he would currently choose as his favorite sound in the world.

Their cheese sticks arrived and their fingers touched as they both reached into the basket at the same time. Jane withdrew her hand first.

"Sorry."

"It's okay. They're really hot anyway." Mike took a cheese stick from the basket and quickly set it on her plate, blowing on his fingers afterwards. She smiled at him again and he thought some minor burns to his fingers were well worth it.

Mike found that he dominated most of the conversation but that she didn't seem to mind. She answered questions when he asked them but otherwise was content to listen to him tell her all about his childhood, playing with his friends in the forest, about science fair projects and his favorite teachers in school.

Eleven was happy to listen to him. He would get excited quickly when remembering another anecdote that he wanted to tell her. She liked watching his brows bunch together when he was thinking and how his eyes would dance when he was telling her about something he thought was really special. She learned about his friends and where they had gone to college and why he was there alone. She learned that he wanted to be a neurologist. She learned that he did not have a girlfriend.

"That seems strange." Eleven said as she took a bite of her burger.

"What does?"

"You don't have a girlfriend. I find that to be odd."

"Yeah, um, girls think I'm dorky I guess. I'm too tall and I ramble on about everything and I'm into some really nerdy things that I don't think girls find attractive."

Eleven sipped her soda. She looked thoughtful. "Maybe those are the wrong girls."

They walked back onto campus and Mike realized that she had never told him where she lived. It was totally dark now except for the streetlights on campus. Rape lights, the students called them but Mike had always thought they looked more like their purpose was so that rapists could see what they were doing. He didn't want to leave Jane to walk alone.

"Shall I squire you home?" He offered her his arm and Eleven almost laughed again at his wording. She placed her hand in the crook of his elbow as he offered it to her. She thought it felt strange to be touching him but it was a feeling she knew she liked.

She allowed him to walk her to the dormitory. It was nestled just beside a couple of other buildings and near a library. She used her ID to let herself into the building, swiping it through the censor. She waved at Mike from just inside the doorway and watched him walk away. Once he was out of her sight she went back outside and walked down the sidewalk to the back of the library. With a flick of her head the door opened and she quickly went inside and up into the attic room she had found two years before. The security cameras went to static for a moment and then she was safely stowed away in the room she called home. She opened her laptop and searched for the name of the song that he had sung. She eased back on her cot, her blanket pulled around her, and let the gentle melody lull her to sleep.

When Mike got back home he decided to read some more from the journal he had found. It was unlikely that he would ever locate the owner and he thought it was very interesting and wanted to read more. He knew it was someone's private business but he wasn't doing it to be mean; he wanted to know more. It was better than anything on television so he justified it that way. If he ever had to explain himself he would simply say that it was better than television. He started at the beginning.

I don't know if I'll ever not think of myself as Eleven. At least now I can write it as a word instead of a number. It's forever inked on me. It's who I am. It's the reason I have no one. I wonder what it's like to have a family. How does it feel to be hugged? I don't think I'll ever find out. I don't think I'm worth anyone's time. I'll just end up causing them pain somehow because I'm abnormal. I haven't had anyone yet in my life, there's no reason for me to think that will change.

It was raining when I escaped. I was only 12 years old and I didn't know what to do or where to go so I just kept going. I was so cold and scared. Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if someone had found me that night. Someone good who cared about me. But that's not what happened. I'm not proud to say that I stole a lot of things over the years...food, clothes, shelter. I was never anywhere for long. When I was almost 16 I used my skills, for lack of a better word, to infiltrate a government computer and that's how I got all of my legal documents. My birth certificate is forged. I don't know who my father was. I never knew my mother but I was able to find out who she was and what my name is. It's all I have from her.

What I want most in life is to understand how I can do the things I can do. I want to know why I'm so different from everyone else. Maybe I can someday change it and be just a regular person. I want to figure out everything I can about how my brain works and why it's not like the others.

And I don't want to be alone.

There was a lot more but it was making Mike sad. He wanted to believe it was just a story but it seemed so real. He didn't want to fall asleep worrying about someone who may or may not even exist though, despite how his heart ached for them. He'd had a great time with Jane and hadn't been able to stop thinking about her. He knew she was guarded but he also knew that he had already decided that he would continue to make himself present in her life. There was something about her that he found infinitely appealing.

He was thinking of her, thinking of walking with her, of how her hand felt on his arm. He was almost asleep, but his last thought before drifting off was that he couldn't imagine how it would be to not know what a hug felt like.

Why did I just think that?

A/N: Surely something has to happen to move things along. Poor Eleven, never even having been hugged. That needs a remedy...

I hope this is starting out decently. I have plans for what will happen so it might take a little bit to get revved up, though I don't see it being an overly long story. If needed I may change the rating in future chapters but I don't think it's going to have anything that wouldn't be considered as a T rating. Maybe some allusions to certain situations but no graphic detail. I hope that's fine.