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Jane looked up. The sky was darkening above them. From the heavens, odd particles that nearly resembled snow, fell. It was as if parts of the clouds were crumbling and falling down to earth.
Jane and Hopper exchanged a look. They had to go and see what was going on. One by one, the group stumbled through the forest toward the overlook. When they finally arrived, the field was grey and darkened ahead of them. Spread out in front of them, Hawkins looked to be burning. Through four ghastly scars across the land, an evil, reddish firelight shone. The air felt charged, but stale. Lightning crackled above them.
She broke from the group, rushing forward in order to get a better look. As she felt the ground crunch beneath her, she looked down.
The flowers were dead. Disintegrating underfoot. Pure, spring wildflowers, reaching their peak in the gorgeous Hawkins april.
These were the same flowers that Mike had brought to Jane in the airport. Purple, and yellow.
Purple had always been her favorite color. Ever since she learned what the word “favorite” meant. F-A-V-O-R-I-T-E. Something you like the most. When Hopper took her in, he let her wear any of his old clothes that she wanted. He had one shirt that was old and faded. One button was missing, from the middle. But the shirt was bright purple, even if it hung off of Jane’s body awkwardly and bag-like. She wore that shirt as often as she could around the cabin. It was a small comfort in the lonely and small world of Hopper’s hideaway and the woods. When she got too lonely, she would watch TV in the cabin. Sometimes Hopper would drink, or ignore her, or fall asleep when he finally got home. When Hop was using the TV, Jane would listen to the handheld battery radio that she found in one of Hopper’s many boxes. She liked when the songs came on that the radio host said were by a woman named Madonna.
Jane stood up and turned back to the rest of the group. They looked…tired. Mike, Will, and Jonathan, still in the clothes they were in at the start of their road trip, slouched in utter exhaustion. Joyce looked scared. Hopper held her hand as if she might slip away from him at any moment.
Jane’s brow furrowed. “Henry…He’s still here. He opened the gates.” It was a damning statement, though they all knew it was true the moment that Jane lost her grip on Vecna.
Will jumped in.
“I can still feel him. When we were in Lenora, the feeling went away, the goosebumps, and everything. But…coming back, it’s here. It’s muffled, like static. Like he’s not fully gone. Like Henry is hiding. Like the hivemind is…stagnant.” He let it out with a sigh of stress.
“We will find him.” Jane stated, determined.
Hopper stared in disbelief, scoffing. His earlier tenderness at their reunion had already faded. “Find him? In the upside down? You have got to be kidding me. No. No. No. El, you need to rest. For now, we need to focus on Hawkins. On making sure everybody here is safe.”
“He’s right.” Joyce piped up. “Our town just witnessed what they thought was an earthquake. The military is probably still here, and El, I don’t want you to push yourself too hard. It is not your fault that the gates opened.” There it was, Joyce’s motherly fierceness, and Hopper’s protectiveness. It took everything within Jane to not argue back to them, but she knew they were right. The town needed help. The group needed to rest. Henry had returned to hiding, his tail between his legs. Hawkins was safe, for now.
“We’re going to need to hide you, El. We don’t know who’s looking for you, and, hell, people still think I’m a dead man. The government knows we’re involved in this, and they’re not just going to let us go. When I first got wrapped up in all of this, they bugged my house. They followed me. I need to keep you safe, El. I can’t have them find you again,”
Hopper’s planning had started to turn into pleading, and Jane finally realised how desperate he really was. It was the desperation of when he told her his three rules for the cabin, his desperation when telling her to keep the door open when Mike was over.
Jane relented.
“Fine.”
Without another word, she brushed past them all, back to the cabin.
Jane never needed many words to get her point across. In Lenora, people found her stuttering and simple vocabulary charming at best, in a wow-look-she-can-hardly-speak-isn’t-she-adorable way. At worst, they thought she was stupid, and asked if she was mentally stunted, elbowing each other and snickering. But Joyce and Will and Jonathan were patient, for the most part, and Jane had learned to speak louder, and more often, and more of what she thought.
Behind her, Will leaned over to Mike.
“Have you…talked to her? Is she okay?” Will was obviously concerned, and trying to whisper, but he said it loud enough that Jane could hear. She rolled her eyes.