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—1—
The Hargroves have been in Hawkins for almost a whole week when Hopper is first called to them.
It had been a slow day, and he was just about to go home to El when the next door neighbour, Mrs. Martin, called in complaining about the noise. Apparently she’d heard shouting, and what sounded like something smashing. Hopper resolved to stop by before going home, since his shift hadn’t technically ended yet.
Hopper pulls up to the house on Cherry Lane half expecting he’s going to have to break up some domestic dispute, but the house is quiet.
To his relief, the woman who opens the door does so without a single visible scratch on her. She’s standing up straight, her red hair pulled up away from her face, and she looks confused to see him there.
“Chief Hopper”, he says in greeting.
Her eyes widen, but she doesn’t look like she’s happy to see him. She doesn’t look angry to see him either, for that matter. She takes the hand he holds out to her and shakes it. Her hand feels small, frail, in Hopper’s big hands. “Susan Hargrove.”
“Susie! Who’s at the door?” Comes a male voice from deeper in the house. It’s followed by a man, just a couple of inches shorter than Hopper, his moustache his most dominating feature.
“The police is here, Neil”, Susan says quietly.
The man comes to a stop in the doorway beside her. His gaze moves quickly over Hopper, and he puts his hands deep in his pockets. “I see. What seems to be the problem then, Officer?”
“Chief.”
He gives a short nod. “Chief.”
“I got a complaint about the noise. Shouting. Crashes.”
Neil huffs out a laugh. “Ah. Yes, we were watching a movie. We just moved, so we bought a new tv. I guess we haven’t really figured out how loud we can have it on yet.”
Hopper looks at him a little longer, trying to figure out if the man can be trusted. Most liars crack under Hopper’s prolonged stare, but Neil doesn’t. Instead he throws up a hand and points with his thumb backwards through the doorway he’d come.
“I don’t suppose you would like to come in and check for yourself that everything’s in order?”
“I would, actually, yes”, Hopper says, and follows after Neil into what turns out to be the living room. The TV’s off, but there’s a small pile of rented movies that Hopper doesn’t recognise, but which based on the covers are some action flicks or another.
Nothing looks broken in the room, either. It looks like an ordinary living room, for an ordinary middle class family, and Susan seemed fine, and Hopper really just wants to get home to his daughter.
He nods to himself, thanks Neil, and leaves with a warning to them to keep the noise down.
He’s almost stepped back in the Cruiser when he realises he should probably stop by Mrs. Martin’s to let her know there’s nothing wrong.
Mrs. Martin is an older, British lady, who’s husband has been dead for as long as Hopper can remember. But she’s different from the rest of the old folks in Hawkins, who might call Hopper because their cat got stuck in a tree - and then Hopper has to explain to them that cats can climb - but not only because Mrs. Martin is the only resident in the entire town with a pitbull. She’s called Daisy.
Which everyone found weird. Hopper thinks back to seeing her walking her dog, about how strange it was, such an old, harmless woman with a big muscular dog. But she always smiled, Daisy. Except once, a few years back, when some teens were being arseholes to the old lady, and Daisy bared her teeth and growled until they ran away.
—2—
The thing with Mrs. Martin is that, while she may be different than the rest of Hawkins elderly population, this does mean that she gets lonely.
And that lonely usually translates into a willingness to stop and talk to Hopper whenever possible, because, according to her own words, he’s ‘one of the only good bloody blokes left in this town’. And, while she isn’t nosy like the others, she can get obsessed with a topic like no one else Hopper’s had the misfortune of knowing.
So really, Hopper has no reason to be as shocked as he is when she calls him about the Hargroves again.
The problem is just that it’s been less than a week since El closed the gate, again , and Hopper is not in the mood for more bullshit.
But then she tells him she saw Max leave the house with a flashlight when she looked out of her bedroom window. And Hopper may have a traumatised girl at home, but sad as it is to say, El is more used to these weird, horrible things than Max is, and it’s 11pm in a school night.
So Hopper gets in his car, and starts driving down Hawkins’ dark streets in search of a short body with flaming hair.
He finds her halfway down to the neighbourhood where Hawkins’ Middle and High School are located, and pulls to a stop beside her.
“Hey, kiddo!” he calls.
Max continues walking. Doesn’t even turn back to look at him. “Not your kid”, he hears her say.
Hopper huffs. None of these goddamn kids and teenagers seem to have an ounce of respect in their entire bodies. He gets out of the car and follows after her. “Okay, well, come back here and let me take you back to your actual parents then.”
Max doesn’t deign that with an answer.
The thing with being 6’3 is that despite the head start Max’ got on him, his legs are long enough that he manages to catch up to her in no time at all. “Hey, Max! I’m serious!”
She turns on her heel and glares at him with such ferocity Hopper can’t help but wonder if she and Billy aren’t actually related. “ What? ”
“Where do you think you’re going, huh?” There’s a plastic bag hanging off one of her arms. Hopper raises his eyebrows and nods at it. “What’s in the bag?”
Max purses her lips and stares right back up at him. “Nothing.”
Hopper nods. “Oh yeah, you think I’ll believe that? Try again.”
She doesn’t, and Hopper ends up being locked in a staring match with a thirteen year old girl. The worst thing is that this isn’t the first staring match between Hopper and a thirteen year old girl. It isn’t even the first one this week.
Max caves just as Hopper’s starting to consider just lifting her up and carrying her back to the Cruiser. She holds out the bag for him and Hopper takes it, peering inside.
There’s a water bottle in there, and two haphazardly packed sandwiches. Some spare change.
Hopper glances back at her, this tome with only one eyebrow raised. “You trying to run away? This won’t last you more than a day.”
Max crosses her arms and blows at the strands of hair that have fallen in front of her face. They just settle back where they were. “I know that. I’m not stupid.”
“Never said you were.”
“You implied it.”
Hopper can feel a smile pulling at his lips. “Well, what were you planning on doing with it, then?”
Max bites her lip, and for a second a shadow falls over her face. Then she’s back to looking irritated. “I told you. Nothing. I just thought I might get hungry.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Hopper can tell there’s more to the story, but it’s late, and he’s tired, and what’s important is to get Max back home. “I’m taking you back home.”
Max sighs, but Hopper knows he’s won. “Fucking fine.”
She brushes past him and starts walking towards the car. “Language!” Hopper calls after her.
He gives her back the bag once he gets in as well. She starts fidgeting with the plastic as soon as it’s in her lap.
Halfway to her house and Hopper glances at her in the passenger seat. “You know, if you ever need to talk about... what happened. The Upside Down, whatever, you can come to me. Or Joyce. You don’t have to go out in the night by yourself. In fact, you shouldn’t .”
Max won’t look at him. “I know.” She sounds sincere, at least.
Hopper nods, satisfied. “Good.”
She asks him to drop her off a couple houses down, so as not to wake her mother or stepdad, and Hopper complies. But he stays in his car watching until she’s stepped back inside, and then for a couple minutes more for extra measure.
On his way back to the cabin he drives by the high school. There’s a blue Camaro parked, making a poor attempt at hiding underneath a tree, but Hopper resolves that there is only so much Hargrove bullshit he can deal with in one night, and continues past.
—3—
Two whole weeks go by before Hopper has to deal with anything Hargrove again.
It’s Friday, the day after Thanksgiving, and some teen in Harrington’s neighbourhood is hosting a party.
It’s approaching midnight, and as usual with these parties, that’s about the time the noise complaints start coming in.
Hopper prepares himself for having to deal with teens telling him to fuck off when he tells them to lower the music, drunk minors, and the possibility of the occasional idiot attempting to drive while being unable to walk in a straight line.
He isn’t really prepared to be faced with Billy Hargrove, far enough from the party that they can’t see the house, but close enough that they can hear it.
He’s parked his car on the side of the road, and is lying on his back on the Camaro’s hood, car doors open and music blasting from the radio. There’s a bottle of something in his hand, lazily thrown over the side of the car.
Hopper parks the Cruiser behind him and starts walking towards Billy. “Turn that down!” He shouts once he gets close enough he thinks Billy can hear him over the music.
Billy doesn’t move, and Hopper doesn’t know if it’s because he’s wilfully ignoring him or if he really can’t hear. To be honest, Hopper doesn’t really care.
He plants himself in front of Billy and turns his flashlight on to shine it at him.
Billy reacts immediately, scrambling back and losing his grip on the bottle. It falls to the ground and shatters upon impact, alcohol spilling out over the side of the road.
“Jesus fucking Christ!”
“I doubt he is”, Hopper says cooly, and moves the flashlight to shine it in Billy’s face.
He’s sitting curled up on the hood, leaning back against the window with one arm propping him up, the other in front of his squeezed shut eyes in an attempt to shield himself from the light.
And in the eyes from the flashlight, Hopper can see that Billy is completely messed up. One eye is completely swollen shut, and he’s got bruises on almost every bit of skin Hopper can see.
If Billy’s looking like this, then Hopper doesn’t dare imagine what the other one looks like.
“Who’d you beat up this time, Hargrove? Not Harrington again, I hope.”
Billy shocks him, then. He throws his head back, and starts laughing. Hysterically.
“There must be something deeply wrong with you, kid.”
“You’ve no idea, Chief.”
—4—
“I went out for tea with Mrs. Martin.”
Hopper groans. “ Joyce .”
Joyce smiles. “Oh hush. She’s kind. Sharp.”
Hopper now she is. He likes her the best out of all the elders he’s ever come in contact with. Including his own grandparents. That doesn’t mean that he’s willing to listen to hear more shit about the Hargroves. Which is exactly what she must have talked to Joyce about.
“She talked to me about Max. And her stepbrother.”
And there it is.
He’s started making it a habit to meet up with Joyce those days when they have the luck of both being off at the same time while the kids meet to hang out. It’s become something of his favourite way to spend his days. There’s something nice, almost domestic, about seeing El have fun like a kid should get to, while Hopper gets to have some adult company outside of work for the first time in years. And Joyce understands him, better than even Diane did.
And yet, despite all of that, Hopper has to quell the urge to stand up from Joyce’s porch and go jump in his car to escape from this madness.
“She’s come to any interesting conclusions?” Hopper asks instead, and wants to hit himself over the pride he feels at his self restraint.
“Yes, actually. She told me Max always seems to try too look so tough, but that underneath she seems really sad. And Billy always seems angry about something.”
Hopper chuckles. “Well, she’s not wrong. They kids are all traumatised. I’m surprised they’re coping as well as they are. And Billy’s angry. Anyone can see that.”
Joyce smiles gently. She’s got a blanket pulled around her shoulders, her hands around a mug of coffee. “Yes, but that’s not the part I thought you’d find interesting. You know Daisy?”
“Everyone knows Daisy.”
Joyce nods, but she’s frowning, and there’s something sad in her eyes. “Well, she told me that she heard Daisy growling, so she went outside and found her growling at the fence between their houses. Billy and his father were on the other side. Daisy’s a good judge I’ve character, you know that, and she never growls. Mrs. Martin told me she assumed Billy was bad news.”
“He is”, Hopper says.
Joyce huffs. “I wasn’t finished. A couple days later she went out and found Billy on the ground with Daisy, playing with her. She was licking his face and he was rubbing her belly. Mrs. Martin invited him in for biscuits. And he was polite , Hopper. Kind, even.”
Hopper looks at her, trying to search her eyes. “What are you trying to say, Joyce?”
She shrugs, and gives him a weak smile. “I don’t know. I just know that such a personality shift isn’t normal, and... I guess you could say I’ve seen it, the beginning of it, at least, with another teenage boy.” She turns around and glances back at the front door, past which Hopper knows Jonathan is sitting, keeping an eye on the kids. “It’s a possibility, is all I’m saying.”
—
When Hopper gets back home, El has already fallen asleep in the backseat, so he carries her in and puts her to bed. Gives the curly crown of her head an extra kiss goodnight, and hugs her a little tighter.
Then he gets up and goes over to his phone, dialling Mrs. Martin’s number.
“Jim, dear!” she answers almost immediately.
“Hi, Mrs. Martin. I talked to Joyce.”
“Oh?”
“She told me what you two talked about. About Billy Hargrove.” He tries to keep his voice low so as not to wake El, but if what Joyce seems to suspect is true, then Hopper knows he’s going to have a hard time controlling his rage.
Mrs. Martin must be able to hear something in his voice, or maybe she’s just more perceptive than Hopper, because she sighs. “Yes. William. I started paying more attention, and Jim, darling, there’s something bad going on in that house. I’m worried.”
Hopper sighs, frustrated. “Do you think it’s affecting Max as well?”
“Not to the same extent, no. Or, not in the same way.”
He lets out a breath. “Okay. I can’t do anything without evidence, and just because he’s acting weird doesn’t mean anything bad is going on. Call me if you hear anything else.”
“It’s the whole family that’s acting strange, Jim”, she sounds strict, like an old headmistress. “But yes, I will call you. Of course I will.”
—5—
The week before the Snow Ball, which Hopper promised El she’d get to go to, Susan Hargrove walks right into him at Melvald’s and drops her basket to the floor.
He reaches out and takes hold of her arm to steady her. “Mrs. Hargrove.”
“Chief Hopper! I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going, I’m in a hurry, Billy got sick at school and I had to-“
“Billy got sick?” Hopper interrupts her.
She looks back up at him, with an expression not dissimilar to a deer caught in headlights. “Well, yes. I’m picking up medicine.”
Hopper nods at her, and crouches down to help her pick up what fell out of the basket. She quickly falls down in front of him to do the same, and Hopper doesn’t miss the tremble in her hand when he reaches out for bandages, and then disinfectant, and drops it in her basket. She won’t meet his eyes.
He leaves her to her shopping once they’re done, and goes up to Joyce to pay for his own groceries with a grim expression. Joyce doesn’t ask, but Hopper sees her glance over at where he last saw Susan.
Once he gets outside, it’s by chance his eyes find Susan’s car. It’s only because he can see Max in the backseat that he knows it’s hers.
Max, who looks up right as Hopper is looking at her, and gets an expression no unlike the one her mother just had on. But there’s more worry, and less fear, on Max’s young face. She frowns, bites her lip and looks down. Moves her hand in a distinct motion that makes Hopper suspects she’s got someone’s head resting in her lap.
He considers going up to them. But in the end, he knows it’s not going to do much, because in order for something to happen he needs Billy to talk, and Billy won’t, Hopper knows it, so he has to wait until he has undeniable proof in his hands.
—+1—
It’s one week after the Snow Ball, two weeks since Hopper caught Max’ gaze in Melvald’s car park, that he gets the call.
It doesn’t come from Mrs. Martin, like Hopper expected, or even Max, like Hopper feared, but from the neighbours across the street from both.
They’re a young couple, the girl just recently pregnant, and her husband calls the station at his wife’s frantic orders. She’d been outside when she’d suddenly heard the front door of the Hargroves thrown open and seen Max rush out with Billy in tow, running and stumbling, respectively, towards Mrs. Martin’s house, who’s ushered the siblings in. Less than a minute later the door banged open again, and Neil came rushing out after them, and then Daisy started barking louder than they’d ever heard her.
Hopper more or less throws himself into his car, turns the sirens on and speeds down the snowy streets towards Mrs. Martin’s place. He trusts Callahan and Powell to follow him.
He can hear Daisy before he’s even out of the car. The door to Mrs. Martin’s stands ajar, and Hopper pulls his gun on his way towards it.
What he’s faced with once he steps inside the living room is not a sight he could ever have said he’d expected to see in his life.
Mrs. Martin’s house is decorated the way almost every old person’s is, furniture at least fifteen years old, but there’s something more homey and less ancient here than there usually is. The feeling is broken by the scene unfolding before him.
Neil Hargrove stands with his back towards Hopper, his shoulders raising in time with his harsh breathing, bloody hands outstretched in front of him in a placating manner to calm the clearly livid Daisy standing in the middle of the room, barking like all Hell’s demons.
This isn’t the most shocking aspect, no, the most shocking thing is behind Daisy. Mrs. Martin stands there, all five feet two inches of her, dressed in a soft robe on top of her dark dress, and gripping her cane in both hands like a weapon. Behind her, curled so close to the fireplace they’re almost inside it, Hopper can see Billy covering with Max pulled tightly to his chest. There’s red in his hair, red on his clothes, and yet he’s lying there trying to shield her with his own body. He’s covering her so completely Hopper can barely see her face, can’t make out if she’s okay or not. Billy’s own face is pulled down and hidden against her shoulder.
Hopper forces his gaze to turn from them and towards Neil, who doesn’t seem to have realised Hopper’s behind him yet. Mrs. Martin hasn’t let her grip on the cane slacken.
Hopper raises his gun towards Neil’s back. “Neil Hargrove!” he shouts and the man in question turns around, and raises his arms when he sees the gun. “You’re under arrest. For child abuse, by the looks of it. Maybe breaking and entering as well. And domestic violence or assault. We’ll see.”
His men have the right timing, it seems, because Callahan and Powell choose that exact moment to come rushing in.
“One of you, arrest him”, he tells them without taking his eyes of Neil. He’s got a mask of barely concealed rage, and Hopper’s just aching for him to do something wrong so he gets to shoot him. “And read him his rights. The other one can call an ambulance, and then go back to their house and look for the wife. If Susan’s hurt, I want you to stay with her, if not, bring her in to the station, but take a different car then the one you take him in. Alright?”
He gets sounds of agreement from both of them, so he lowers his gun and puts it away while Callahan goes up and puts handcuffs on Neil. He’s not saying anything, smart bastard that he is, but Hoppers got more important things to deal with.
Daisy’s stopped barking, and Mrs. Martin has sat down in a sofa, busy stroking her back, telling her what a good girl she is, and shooting Hopper a grateful look as he passes them. He has to agree with her, and reminds himself to buy Daisy a whole lot of dog biscuits as thank you. Without her there, he doesn’t know what Neil might have done.
Billy flinches when Hopper crouches down by him and places his hand on his shoulder. He buries his face more into Max’s shoulder, and Hopper sees his whole frame shaking.
“It’s alright, Billy. It’s just Hopper”, Max whispers to him. She’s looking up at Hopper with more worry than someone her age should ever have to experience.
“No”, Billy mumbles. His voice is shaking. Hopper’s chest aches. “D-Dad...Neil‘s going to... Neil’s going to-“
“Neil’s not going to do anything, son”, Hopper says, as gently as he can. “We’ve just arrested him. He can’t hurt you anymore.”
Billy whimpers - and isn’t that a strange sound to imagine coming from him - but doesn’t otherwise react. Max sighs softly. “You’re holding me too tightly, Billy.”
That does make him relax, if only so much that Max can move so she’s sitting up with Billy’s head in her lap.
“What happened?” Hopper asks them, and Max is the one who answers.
“I don’t know how it started”, she sighs. “I came home, and Neil was at it, but I could tell it was worse than usual. Much worse.”
She whispers the last two words, and starts stroking Billy’s hair when he shudders. “I screamed at him to stop, but he wouldn’t, and so I tried to drag Billy away, and he...” she falters.
“He tried to hurt you”, Billy finishes for her.
Max nods, and she’s crying now. Hopper wants to take them both into his arms and carry them to his car and take them home to El and hide them from all the awful in the world. They’ve experienced too much already. “He tried to hurt me”, Max repeats, and Hopper’s impressed by how strong her voice manages to be. “He’s never done that before. But I ran, and I dragged Billy with me, and we ran here, because Billy... Billy told me she was kind, before, so I thought she’d help us, but we didn’t have time to lock the door before Neil came, so Billy pulled me in here. And Mrs. Martin stood in front of us, like, like a superhero. And Daisy saved us until you could come.”
“So you’re not hurt?” Hopper asks, because he has to make sure.
Max shakes her head. “Just Billy.”
He can hear sirens starting to approach, and knows Powell must have called the ambulance like he’d told him to.
“Do you want to ride with me or Billy to the hospital?” he asks Max.
She glances down at her brother - and it’s impossible to think of them as just step siblings now, it is - and at the arms he’s still got wound around her waist. “With Billy”, she whispers, and Hopper nods. It’s the answer he’d expected. But he’s going to follow them, with sirens on.
There isn’t a chance Hopper’s leaving the Hargrove-Mayfield siblings alone anymore. He’s going to be with them, for as long as it takes him to know they’ll be alright without him.