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El stood outside the cabin, soaking in the warm summer breeze that rustled through the trees. The air smelled of pine and earth, a stark contrast to the sterile, cold memories of the lab she’d left behind. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the sun kiss her face, when a sudden rustling in a nearby bush snapped her out of her calm. Her body tensed instinctively, her mind flipping through a catalog of threats. But she quickly reminded herself that the gate to the Upside Down was closed—sealed tight by her own hands. Whatever was in that bush couldn’t be one of those things.
Curiosity tugged at her, overriding the flicker of fear. She edged closer, her sneakers crunching on the dry grass, and crouched down to peer into the dense shrubbery. With a cautious hand, she pushed aside a tangle of branches, expecting maybe a squirrel or a bird. Instead, her breath caught as she spotted a small black cat, fur matted and eyes wide with something like wariness. El’s heart did a little flip. It was so tiny, so fragile-looking, and impossibly cute. She bit her lip to stifle a delighted squeal, but her excitement dimmed when she noticed the scratches crisscrossing its side. The poor thing was hurt.
She hesitated, her hand hovering just above the cat. What if it scratched her? What if it ran? But those big, glossy eyes locked onto hers, and she couldn’t stop herself. Slowly, she reached out, fingers trembling just a bit. To her shock, the cat didn’t hiss or flinch. Instead, it leaned into her touch, nuzzling against her palm with a faint, rumbling purr. El’s face split into a wide grin, her chest warming at the sound, even as she winced at the sight of those raw scratches.
“I’m gonna help you,” she murmured under her breath, a promise to the little creature and to herself. Carefully, she slid her hands beneath its small body, lifting it from the dirt. The cat didn’t struggle, just nestled closer to her as she cradled it against her chest. She glanced down, checking it over, and figured out it was a boy. “You’re a tough little guy, huh?” she said softly, stroking its head with one finger.
With the cat secure in her arms, El hurried back into the cabin, kicking the door shut behind her. Hopper was still at work, probably buried in paperwork or griping over coffee at the station. That gave her a few hours to figure this out before he’d come home and start asking questions. She set the cat down on the old couch, grabbing a towel to make a little nest for him. He curled up instantly, purring again despite the pain he must’ve been in. El knelt beside him, chewing her lip as she thought. She couldn’t do this alone—she needed someone to help, someone who’d get how important this was.
She grabbed the phone off the wall, dialing Mike’s number with quick, nervous taps. It rang twice before he picked up.
“Hey, El? What’s up?” His voice crackled through the line, laced with that familiar mix of concern and excitement whenever she called.
“Mike, can you come over? I… I have a surprise,” she said, glancing at the cat, who flicked an ear at the sound of her voice.
“A surprise? Is everything okay?” he pressed, but she could hear the curiosity already building.
“Everything’s fine. Just… hurry, okay?”
“On my way,” he said, and she could picture the goofy grin on his face as he hung up.
While she waited, El sat cross-legged on the floor beside the couch, watching the cat breathe in shallow little huffs. She needed to name him. Something special, something that meant something to her. Her mind wandered back to Mike, to all the times he’d been there for her, pulling her out of danger, giving her a home in his world. He was her protector, her… paladin, like in those games he and the boys played. A slow smile spread across her face. “Paladin,” she whispered, testing the word. The cat’s ear twitched again, as if he approved. “Yeah. Paladin. Because I saved you… like Mike saved me.”
She reached out, running her fingers lightly over his fur, careful to avoid the scratches. “We’re gonna fix you up, Paladin. Me and Mike. You’ll see.” Her voice was firm, filled with a quiet determination. She didn’t know much about taking care of cats, but she knew about being hurt, about needing someone to care. And she’d be that someone for him.
El sat on the worn wooden floor of the cabin, her eyes fixed on Paladin as he rested in the makeshift nest of towels. His tiny chest rose and fell unevenly, and every so often, a faint whimper escaped him, tugging at her heart. She reached out again, brushing her fingers gently over the top of his head, careful not to disturb the scratches marring his black fur. “It’s okay,” she whispered, more to herself than to the cat. “Mike will know what to do.”
The wait felt endless, though it was only about twenty minutes before she heard the familiar creak of bike tires on the gravel outside. Her head snapped up, a spark of relief cutting through her worry. She scrambled to her feet and opened the door just as Mike hopped off his bike, his cheeks flushed from the ride. His dark hair was mussed from the wind, and his eyes lit up when he saw her.
“El! What’s the surprise?” he asked, dropping his bike against the porch railing and jogging up the steps. His curiosity was palpable, and she couldn’t help but smile despite the situation.
“Come see,” she said, grabbing his hand and pulling him inside. She led him to the couch, where Paladin lay curled up, his eyes half-closed but alert now that there was new noise in the room. Mike stopped short, his mouth dropping open.
“Whoa, a cat? Where’d you find him?” He knelt beside the couch, peering at Paladin with a mix of awe and concern. “He looks… roughed up.”
“In the bushes outside,” El explained, sitting cross-legged beside Mike. “He’s hurt. See the scratches? But he let me touch him. He even purred. I… I want to help him.”
Mike nodded, his brow furrowing as he studied the little cat. “Yeah, those scratches look bad. Maybe he got in a fight with another animal or got caught in something. We should clean him up, at least. Do you have any first aid stuff here?”
El tilted her head, thinking. “Hopper has a kit. In the bathroom, I think.” She rose and hurried to check, rummaging through the cabinet under the sink until she found the battered red box with a white cross on it. She returned and handed it to Mike, who popped it open and pulled out some antiseptic wipes and gauze.
“Okay, we’ll be gentle,” he said, more to Paladin than to El. He tore open a wipe, the sharp smell of alcohol filling the air, and hesitated. “Hold him steady, El. I don’t want him to freak out.”
She nodded, placing her hands lightly on either side of Paladin’s small body. He flinched at first, his ears flattening, but her soft murmurs calmed him. “It’s okay, Paladin. We’re helping,” she said, her voice steady. Mike dabbed at the scratches, wincing himself as the cat let out a tiny hiss.
“Sorry, buddy,” Mike muttered, working as quickly as he could. “Almost done.” After cleaning the worst of the wounds, he wrapped a bit of gauze around one particularly deep cut on Paladin’s side, securing it with tape. “That should hold for now. But he might need a vet. Like, real medicine or something. These could get infected.”
El frowned, her fingers still stroking Paladin’s head. “A vet?” The word felt foreign, though she’d heard it before. “Like… a doctor for animals?”
“Yeah, exactly,” Mike said, sitting back on his heels. He wiped his hands on his jeans, leaving faint streaks of dirt. “I can ask my mom if she knows someone. Or maybe Hopper has an idea when he gets home.”
At the mention of Hopper, El’s stomach twisted. She hadn’t thought about how he’d react to a cat in the house. He was still pretty strict about keeping things low-key, even after the gate was closed. “Hopper might not like this,” she admitted, her voice quieter now. “He says… no messes. No extra trouble.”
Mike glanced at her, his expression softening. “Hey, it’s not trouble. It’s a cat. And you saved him. Hopper’ll get it. He’s grumpy, but he’s not heartless.” He paused, then grinned. “Did you say Paladin? That’s his name?”
El nodded, a small smile creeping back onto her face. “Yes. Because I saved him. Like… like you saved me.”
Mike’s cheeks turned a faint pink, and he ducked his head, scratching the back of his neck. “That’s… that’s really cool, El. Paladin. It fits.” He reached out, letting Paladin sniff his fingers before the cat bumped his head against them, seeking more attention. “See? He’s already one of us.”
They sat there for a while, watching Paladin settle into a more comfortable doze, the tension in his tiny body easing. El felt a warmth spreading through her, not just from Mike’s presence but from the idea that she’d done something good, something right. She’d found Paladin when he needed someone most, just like Mike and the others had found her.
“We’ll figure this out,” Mike said after a few minutes of quiet. “Maybe we can keep him hidden for a bit if Hopper’s weird about it. Sneak him food and stuff. Dustin and Lucas will lose it when they see him—they’re gonna want to help too.”
El looked at him, her eyes bright with hope. “You think we can keep him safe? Really?”
“Definitely,” Mike said, his voice firm. “We’ve handled worse than a scratched-up cat. We’ll make it work.”
As the afternoon stretched on, they stayed by Paladin’s side, planning out how to care for him and debating what kind of food he might like best. El didn’t say it out loud, but she felt a quiet certainty growing inside her. Paladin wasn’t just a cat—she’d saved him for a reason. He was hers to protect, just as she’d been protected. And with Mike beside her, she knew they’d find a way.
The cabin door creaked open just as the sun dipped below the treeline, casting long shadows across the living room. Hopper trudged in, his boots heavy on the worn floorboards, the weight of a long day at the station etched into the lines of his face. He shrugged off his jacket, hanging it on the hook by the door, and let out a weary grunt. El and Mike, who had been sitting on the couch whispering about Paladin, froze. Their eyes darted toward each other in a silent panic.
“Alright, kid, I’m beat,” Hopper called out, not yet noticing the tension in the room. “You eat yet?”
“Uh, yeah, we did,” El replied quickly, her voice a little too high. She shot Mike a look, and he nodded, both of them standing up as casually as they could manage. They’d stashed Paladin in El’s room, hoping the closed door would keep him quiet and out of sight. Hopper wasn’t exactly the type to welcome surprises, especially not furry ones with sharp claws.
“Good,” Hopper muttered, heading toward the kitchen to grab a beer from the fridge. But before he could make it halfway across the room, a small, plaintive meow echoed from down the hall. Hopper stopped dead, his brow furrowing as he turned his head. El’s heart sank. Mike’s hand twitched like he wanted to bolt for the door.
“What the hell was that?” Hopper asked, his voice low and suspicious. He took a step toward the hallway, his cop instincts kicking in.
“Nothing!” El blurted, stepping in front of him with her arms spread wide, as if she could block the sound itself. Mike hovered behind her, looking like a deer caught in headlights. Another meow, louder this time, cut through the air, demanding attention.
Hopper crossed his arms, staring down at El with a look that said he wasn’t buying any of it. “Kid, you got ten seconds to tell me what’s going on before I go check myself.”
El’s shoulders slumped, and she exchanged a defeated glance with Mike. There was no point in lying now. “It’s… a cat,” she admitted, her voice small but resolute. “I found him outside. He’s hurt, and I… I couldn’t leave him.”
“A cat?” Hopper repeated, his tone flat, though his eyes narrowed with a mix of exasperation and disbelief. “You’re telling me there’s a stray in my house?”
“He’s not a stray,” El countered, her chin lifting defiantly. “He’s mine. His name’s Paladin. I saved him.” She took a step closer, her hands clasped together, and fixed Hopper with the biggest, saddest, most pleading eyes she could muster. Those wide, glistening eyes that always seemed to cut right through him. “Please, Hopper. I’ll take care of him. I promise. He needs me.”
Mike chimed in, stepping forward to back her up. “Yeah, Chief, he’s really beat up. We cleaned him up some, but he needs a home. El’s been amazing with him. He trusts her.”
Hopper stared at the two of them, his jaw tightening as he fought an internal battle. He rubbed a hand over his face, letting out a long, frustrated sigh. “Damn it, kid,” he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for them to hear. “You’re dangerous. You know that? Those eyes of yours… worse than any Demogorgon.” His gruff tone softened just a fraction, and El caught the flicker of a reluctant smirk at the corner of his mouth. “Fine. But this is on you. Feeding, cleaning, all of it. I’m not playing nursemaid to a cat.”
El’s face lit up like Christmas morning. She let out a little cheer, throwing her arms around Mike in a quick, excited hug. “We did it!” she whispered, her grin wide as she pulled back. “I’m gonna get him!” She darted down the hall toward her room, leaving Mike to face Hopper’s lingering glare alone.
Mike shuffled his feet, offering a sheepish smile. “Thanks, Chief. It means a lot to her.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Hopper grumbled, waving a hand as he finally grabbed that beer from the fridge. “Just don’t let it turn into a zoo around here.”
El returned a moment later, cradling Paladin in her arms. The little black cat looked up at Hopper with curious, glassy eyes, letting out a faint meow that seemed almost like a greeting. Hopper set his beer down on the counter and walked over, crouching slightly to get a better look. He frowned at the scratches and the makeshift gauze bandage Mike had taped on earlier.
“Alright, he’s a mess,” Hopper said, straightening up. “I’ll take him to the vet down in town tomorrow. Get him checked out proper. Probably needs shots or whatever the hell cats need.”
El’s eyes brightened even more, though a shadow of disappointment crossed her face. “Can I come? I want to be there for him.”
Hopper shook his head, his tone firm but not unkind. “You know you can’t, kid. Gotta keep a low profile. No trips into town, not yet. I’ll handle it.”
“I’ll go with you,” Mike offered quickly, glancing at El to reassure her. “I can help carry him or whatever. Make sure Paladin’s okay.”
Hopper gave Mike a long look, then nodded. “Fine. You’re on deck, Wheeler. We’ll head out first thing in the morning.”
El spent the rest of the night hovering over Paladin, setting up a little corner in her room with a blanket and a bowl of water. She barely slept, her mind racing with worry about what the vet might say. What if Paladin was sicker than they thought? What if something was wrong that couldn’t be fixed? She sat on her bed, knees pulled to her chest, watching him sleep and whispering little promises to be there for him no matter what.
The next morning, Hopper and Mike loaded Paladin into a makeshift carrier—an old cardboard box with holes poked in the sides—and headed off in Hopper’s truck. El stood at the window, watching the dust kick up behind the tires as they disappeared down the road. The cabin felt too quiet without them, and she paced restlessly, trying to distract herself with TV but unable to focus on anything but the ticking clock.
Hours later, the rumble of the truck returning snapped her out of her anxious haze. She rushed to the door, flinging it open before Hopper even had a chance to park. Mike hopped out first, holding the box with Paladin inside, and gave her a thumbs-up. “He’s fine, El! Just some antibiotics and a couple stitches. Vet says he’ll heal up quick.”
Hopper climbed out after, slamming the truck door. “Yeah, he’s a tough little bastard,” he said, a rare hint of amusement in his voice. “Got in a scrap with something—probably a raccoon or another cat. But he’s good now. Cost me a damn fortune, though.”
El barely heard the grumbling. She took the box from Mike, peeking inside to see Paladin blinking up at her, looking a bit dazed but alive. “You’re okay,” she breathed, a weight lifting off her chest. She set the box down gently and lifted him out, holding him close. “I’ve got you.”
Hopper watched the scene, shaking his head with a quiet chuckle. “You’re gonna spoil that thing rotten, aren’t you?” he muttered, but there was a fondness in his tone that hadn’t been there before. He turned to Mike. “Come on, Wheeler. Help me unload the meds the vet gave us. Let’s get this over with.”
As the boys handled the bag of supplies, El settled on the couch with Paladin in her lap, stroking his fur and smiling to herself. He purred under her touch, and for the first time in hours, she felt completely at ease. She’d saved him, and now she’d keep saving him, day by day. And even Hopper, gruff as he was, seemed to be warming up to the idea of their little family growing by one.
Paladin had joined the Party!