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Finally, after a long gruelling week of work, it’s the weekend. You turn up the radio of your car, absently singing along to whatever popular song you’d turned to. The sky is a grayish colour, but there’s no rain -- typical early October weather.
Currently, you’re headed to the cabin your friend is likely at. Chief Jim Hopper was known to get away from his trailer from time to time, and since he wasn’t there right now (you’d checked) you decided to try Plan B.
The two of you often got together in the mornings to grab breakfast, or to sit together and eat something home-made and watch television. It had been a long week, and you figured that Hop might enjoy some of his favourite home-cooked breakfast food, so you decided to show up with some ingredients as a surprise.
When you got to Hopper’s cabin, however, you weren’t expecting what you got.
When you knocked on his front door, you heard what sounded like a panicked “JUST A MINUTE!” before you heard some low, intense murmuring and some slammed doors. After a few heavy, definitely-running footsteps, a disheveled Jim Hopper answers the door for you and gives you a once-over.
You allow for a slight pause before raising your eyebrow. “Um, you got company?” You ask. It wasn’t unlike Jim to have a one-night stand, but you found it strange that he was going to such lengths to cover it up. It hadn’t bothered him before if you’d shown up unannounced after one of his… nights.
“Company?” Jim asks, smoothing his hair down and raising his eyebrows. “No, no, I don’t. Um. I don’t have any company. It’s just us.”
He’s still standing in the doorway, so you step forwards and wriggle past him fast enough that it doesn’t totally register with him. You shiver as the warmth of the cabin envelops you, a stark change from the bitter cold outside. You look around, and at first glance, nothing seems out of the ordinary. Messy, yes, but definitely Hopper’s place.
You turn around to look at him. He hasn’t shut the door yet, and is letting in a lot of cold air. You sigh, smiling at his still-surprised face.
“Hop, you should really shut that door,” you say, taking off your coat and hanging it up. “And your mouth, while you’re at it.” Hop’s jaw shuts and he dutifully closes the door.
“Listen, uh,” He starts, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. “Not that I don’t appreciate it, but uh, now really isn’t the best time --” He stops, and you’re now you’re definitely starting to think that something is up.
“Hopper, you know I don’t care about one night stands,” you tell him, and he sighs, his shoulders tense.
“It’s not that -- I told you, I don’t have company, it’s just--”
You hear a loud bang in the next room over, and your head whips to look for the source. The door to the room is closed, though, so you can’t see anything. You look back at Hopper, suspicious.
The chief of police has an innocent look on his face, as though he hadn’t just heard a loud noise. You had seen enough of his charm, however, to know that this was just a ruse.
“Jim, what was that?” You ask, more of a statement than a question. Hopper’s eyebrows raise, and he tilts his head questioningly.
“Hmm?” He asks lightly, totally uncharacteristic. “What was what?”
“That noise, Jim. What was it?” You look around again, as though you could find the source that way -- had he gotten a dog? A raccoon? Had he finally gone off the deep end?
“What noise? I didn’t hear any noise.” You’re still looking around Hopper’s cabin, trying to find anything to prove your theory.
“The noise,” you say again, not really paying much attention to the conversation at that point. There’s blankets on the couch in the living room, and some beer cans and ashtrays strewn around the room. Nothing out of the ordinary.
“Noise… noise… Oh! That noise!” Jim says. He’s obviously trying to make something up on the spot. “Yeah, the thing about that --”
You stopped listening. You’d spotted something -- you had evidence against him, now. He was still spouting nonsense, and you cut him off.
“Why are there two plates at your table?” You ask, crossing your arms. There are two partially eaten plates of waffles on the small table next to Hopper’s kitchen.
Hopper’s face goes blank. For once, you’d rendered him speechless. His hands were suspended before him, as he’d frozen while trying to explain a blatant lie to you.
“I was hungry?” He tries, smiling hopefully. You scoff, grinning. You’re about to reply when you see something out of the corner of your eye.
The door -- the one leading to the room where you’d heard the loud noise in the first place -- reveals an eye, peering at you curiously. It stands at about a child’s height. When you make eye contact, though, the owner of said eye gasps and shuts the door abruptly.
You look at your friend, who is staring aghast. “James Hopper,” you say incredulously. “Jim. Please tell me that’s not a child in your cabin which is in the woods.”
Before he has a chance to respond, you walk over to the door. You ignore Hopper’s please of ‘ son of a bitch’ and ‘ wait’ and ‘ hold on’ and you open unlocked door.
In the room, there’s a child. A girl. Her hair is a mess of unruly curls, and she’s wearing what seems to be some of Jim’s clothes, which are much too big for her. She’s standing with her back against the far wall of the room, evidently terrified.
Hopper is directly behind you, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance. At himself or at the girl, you’re not sure.
“Look, I can explain --” He starts. You cut him off for the second time in the last few minutes.
“Hopper. For the love of God, shut up.” His mouth closes immediately and he sighs, resigned. “You’ve gotta answer a couple of things for me, all right? So that I’m not totally pissed at you. Or call child services.”
Hopper nods, and you take a deep breath. “All right. One: Is there a reason besides the worst case scenario that you’re holding a scared child in your cabin in the woods and haven’t told anybody?”
“Yes, of course, Jesus, do you think I’m--” he says desperately, but you hold up a hand. He shuts his mouth again and nods.
“Okay. Okay, that’s good. Two: how long has this child been here?” You cross your arms and look up at your friend expectantly. Your heart is still racing, but you know that you can trust what Jim is saying. Even if this definitely looks bad.
Okay, really bad. Really, really bad.
He pauses before speaking, looking at the scared kid in what seems to be a reassuring manner. You keep your eyes on Hopper, though, not pausing to look at the girl. “...A while. I’m not sure. Under a year, I think.”
You nod. This isn’t super reassuring to you, but you can tell he’s not spouting lies anymore and he isn’t being outwardly mean to the girl, so you press on.
“Alright. Okay. Shit.” You cringe, because you realize you’ve definitely cussed in front of this child more than once.
“Okay, last one.” You take a breath. “Hopper, please tell me that you’ve been feeding this kid more than Eggos? ”
Jim blinks. And blinks again. And then he breaks out into a smile. Without warning, he wraps his arms around you, laughing in relief. You try not to revel in the warmth he exudes too much.
“Thank God,” he breathes when he finally lets you go. He puts his hands around your upper arms, squeezing softly. “Thank you. Jeez, you scared me half to death. Yes. Yes, she’s been eating more than Eggos. Even though she doesn’t want to.” He glances at her wryly, and you turn to look at her, too.
She’s smiling uncertainly now, looking less terrified than she had before. She seemed unsure as to what she should do, though, looking between you and Hop.
“Well?” You say after a moment. Hopper looks at you, confused. “Aren’t you going to introduce us?”
Hopper laughs again. “El, come here,” he says to the kid, beckoning her closer. She slowly moves towards him, and once she’s close enough, he places a hand on her back. She seems to relax slightly, which makes you feel better.
You kneel down to her level, and Hopper introduces you. You smile, and the child smiles back at you, her dark eyes seeming less confused now.
“Hi,” she says. You hold out your hand to her.
“This is El,” Hopper tells you. El takes your hand and shakes it, her grip surprisingly strong for what you assume to be a thirteen year old. “Short for Eleven.”
You glance up at Hopper after letting go of El’s hand. He’s less shaken now, and he seems… almost proud of the kid in front of you. You’re still sort of uneasy at the whole situation, but you trust Hop, and the kid seems to be more or less comfortable here.
“Well,” you say, standing up straight. “Now that we’ve got introductions out of the way, I believe you have some explaining to do,” you point at Hopper. “And I’ve got a breakfast to make. You can’t seriously expect El to grow up big and strong if she only eats waffles for breakfast.”
Hopper seems more than a little relieved at this, and he smiles at you. His blue eyes are shining, and you try not to get more lost in them than you should. Jim puts a hand on El’s head, ruffling her curly hair, and she smiles up at him.
You sigh. It’s gonna be another long day, you can tell.