Work Text:
The sound of Sara’s flatline reverberates through every corner of his brain. Hopper bends down, forcefully clasping his hands to his ears to no avail. He cannot block the sinister voice booming over the sound of the water rushing into the sensory deprivation tank.
“You knew this would happen,” Vecna announces as Sara’s body turns to vapor, her silhouette transforming into a vision of El crying with her eyes closed, holding Hopper’s revolver aimed underneath her chin. “Just like you know what’s going to happen to her.”
Hopper grazes his hand along the holster on his belt. Empty. He reaches out to take hold of his daughter, but his hands pass right through her. She opens her eyes, the fear in her stare piercing deep into his heart.
“She’s going to do it,” the villainous voice continues, direct, disembodied, and haunting. “She’s going to end her life.”
Hopper trembles uncontrollably. He grabs a pair of scissors off the table behind him and holds them high in the air. “Henry!” he yells, ready to attack. “Show yourself! Show yourself, you lying bastard!” He cannot see his tormentor, but he can sense his smug demeanor. He can feel his horrendous smile, the cold, rotten breath on his neck.
“I am many things, Junior. But I am not a liar.” Vecna’s voice deepens as he boasts. “I have seen into her mind as I have seen into yours. What rage it holds! One daughter dead because of you – soon, another.” He pauses, revelling in the pain he is bringing to the surface. “You are as you fear,” he taunts, his disgusting, disfigured form finally stepping into Hopper’s view. “You are the curse.”
“Hopper!” El calls. She hurries down the hallway toward the tank, helmet in hand. “I found it! Did you get the water pump to –” Her voice trails off as she crosses the threshold and finds her father convulsing on the floor of the lab, his deep blue eyes rolled all the way back in his head. “Hopper!” She rushes to him and collapses at his side. “Hopper, wake up," she screams, cradling his head and scanning the empty room for a sign of her nemesis. Her cries echo through the frigid, sterile room and she fights to breathe through her sobs. She lowers her ear to his chest, listening for his heart beat, and hears clanging down the opposite hall. “Joyce!” she yells, holding Hopper’s hand in hers. “Kali! Down here! Help! Please help!” She hears their footsteps smattering on the resin flooring then stands, nearly crashing into them upon their arrival.
“Oh my God! Hop!” Joyce gasps, her eyes immediately locked onto his hulking but helpless frame.
“He’s trapped,” El explains, frantically wiping away her tears. “Henry’s got him. I have to help.”
Kali cautiously glances over her shoulder then peers down the opposite hallway. “We need to run, Jane. This place is crawling with soldiers. Kay will be here any minute.”
“I'm not leaving without him,” El says firmly. She looks her sister in the eyes, her desperation communicating more than any words can say.
Kali nods, resigned. “I’ll do what I can to distract them. But hurry. We don’t have much time.” She turns back, focused and determined, then takes off running toward the enemy, ready for yet another fight.
El quickly turns off the hose as the water starts to overflow out the top of the tank. “Joyce,” she says, lifting the clear shield over her head. “Once I’m in, you need to close the latch and not let me out until he wakes up.”
Joyce presses her hand to her chest, overwhelmed at the sight of Hopper fighting for his life in another dimension and El readying to join him. She rushes to El’s side at the base of the ladder and pleads. “Take me with you.”
“What? Joyce, I can’t, I – “
“You don’t need the tank,” she urges. “You can do this. Blindfold on, you know. Hold my hand.”
El’s eyes narrow as she considers the request. “He’s too strong. I can’t find him if I don’t –”
“Yes you can.” Joyce holds El by the shoulders, pushing aside her panic and replacing it with hope. “You’ve done it before, sweetheart. A hundred times. I can’t just stand around, waiting. I have to help. Please. I believe in you, El. You’ve got this.”
El looks down at Hopper, his face twitching, indicative of the pain being inflicted upon him in the mindscape. She raises her eyes to Joyce’s and exhales. “Okay,” she agrees. “But if I can’t find him right away, then we use the tank. Deal?”
“Deal,” Joyce half-smiles. She follows El’s lead and kneels down beside Hopper.
El pulls the bandana from his pocket and ties it around her eyes, then takes a deep breath and holds his hand. “You ready?” she says, holding her palm up toward Joyce.
“Ready,” Joyce replies. She closes her eyes and links her fingers with El’s, and is immediately transported into another realm. Pitch black. Total darkness. The void. “El?!” she yells, her heart pounding. “Hopper! Where are you? I can’t see you!” She runs one way into nothing, then turns and runs again, deeper into the emptiness. “Jane! Where are you!?”
“Here,” El calls quietly in the distance. Joyce takes off toward her, but El presses her finger to her lips, quieting her approach. “I found him,” she whispers.
The black dissipates and a scene appears in Joyce’s view. They are standing in a dilapidated trailer watching Hopper from behind. He’s clean shaven and younger – 18, maybe 19 - standing in front of a mirror and trying on his police uniform for the first time. The girls see his reflection briefly smiling back at him, yet the mirror image quickly turns sinister, scowling at the young officer.
“You’re a joke,” it crows. “You can’t stop me now, like you couldn’t stop me then.”
“Shut up!” the young Hopper shouts, clenching his fists.
“You’re a coward,” the reflection sneers. “Joyce’s play, ruined. Her life, ruined, because you couldn’t solve my riddle. And you couldn’t stand your ground. No wonder she went running back to Byers.”
“Ahhhhhhh!” Hopper screams, sending his fists flying into the glass. He shatters the image, silencing its jeers and splitting the skin on his knuckles. Blood drips down onto his wrists as he turns to face Joyce and El.
“Hop?” Joyce cries. “Is that you?”
But he doesn’t react. He lowers his eyes to his feet as though he doesn’t hear or see her, and suddenly, the setting is transformed yet again. Hopper’s older now, dressed in a dirty white tank top with olive green pants tucked into tall black boots. A cigarette hangs from his lips as he rubs his bloody hands over his buzzed hair. Soldiers walk in and out of the frame in mourning, sobbing as they pass by a flag-draped coffin. One soldier stops and leans forward over Hopper’s shoulder. A nasty, familiar voice emanates from the stranger as he berates the beleaguered, grief-stricken young man.
“Pathetic,” he booms. “Your Lieutenant – decorated, respected. His wife pregnant with his child, awaiting his return. He trusted you, and you got him killed.”
“No!” Hopper groans, shaking his head in denial. “It wasn’t my fault!”
“You break everything you touch.”
“I did my job! I did what was asked of me!” He rocks back and forth, his skin flush, then lights the cigarette in an attempt to ignore the torment.
“You failed as a soldier.” Vecna’s voice howls loudly as the entirety of the display evaporates leaving present day Hopper behind, tears falling on his red cheeks, gritting his teeth as he seethes with anger.
“Hop!” Joyce exclaims, her fright mixed with relief. She throws herself toward him, pulling him into a tight embrace. His face slowly softens as he registers her presence, the love of his life once again coming to his rescue. He struggles, trying to decipher fact from fiction – the comfort of her hug, the warmth of her body against his. “I’ve been here before,” he thinks. “Just another memory.” But before he can react, a cascade of images flashes rapidly around them. El stands guard in front of the couple as they have no choice but to watch the ghastly montage.
They watch as Hopper’s father hits his mother, Hopper in his primary school uniform, crying and hiding in the corner.
“You failed as a son,” Vecna narrates. Mrs. Hopper falls to the floor, and James Sr. turns his fists toward the young boy.
Another flashback – El and Hopper, both frightened, both fearsome, fighting at full volume in the cabin. The young El screams and cries, then slams the door as Hopper stomps and yells. The grown El winces as she watches, then instinctively reaches for Hopper’s hand as if to say, it’s in the past. Their view pans wider and the trio see a present day El and Kali standing alongside them, also watching the memory of the feud.
“See,” Kali points at Hopper’s brutish figure as he punches a hole in the wooden wall. “You’re telling me that’s love? That’s family? He’s using you, Jane. He’s no different than Papa.”
The real El looks up at Hopper and sees his eyes watering, his lips trembling at the raw emotion, his deepest fears playing out in front of him. “It’s not real,” she whispers. “That’s not true.” She squeezes his hand even tighter.
Then, another flash, another painful memory. Joyce and El look on with disbelief at the sight of Hopper and Brenner face to face, making a deal. Hopper grimaces as he watches himself trade El for Will all those years ago. He lurches, unable to stomach his own regret.
“You failed as a father," Vecna says, hurling yet another insult Hopper's way.
“Hop?” El glances up at him, hurt and confused.
“Oh God,” Joyce sighs, understanding. “How could you–”
“I didn’t know –” Hopper trembles with remorse. He can’t bear to look at El, barely managing a reply as he backs away from Joyce in shame. “I had to save him. I had to choose–”
Another flash and they are back in the lab. Dr. Kay points a gun to El’s head while one of her lackeys holds a knife to Will’s throat.
“Some hero,” Kay cackles, Vecna’s deep voice rattling out of her mouth. “What will you choose this time, Chief? Door 1?” She cocks the pistol, loading a round into the chamber. “Or door 2.” Her nameless assistant presses the knife deeper into Will’s skin, drawing blood.
“Or maybe… Door 3?” Hopper looks down to see his failsafe strapped to his chest, the detonator in his shaking hand, his thumb resting on the small red button.
Kay evaporates into a cloud of dark red smoke, her likeness transforming into the menacing twist of blood, guts, and vines layered over the body of Henry Creel. Everything else disappears as the villain presses the sharp end of his large claw-like finger into Hopper’s forehead and raises him into the air. “You can end the curse, Jim. Close the black hole. Put everyone else out of their misery with the push of a button.” Hopper tries to turn his head, tries to look away, but he can’t. He’s rendered immobile, forced to let the psychopath penetrate every corner of his aching mind. “Well,” Vecna groans as Hopper’s thumb twitches ever so slightly. “What’re you waiting for?”
“Get away from him!” El screams. She furiously shoots an open hand out in front of her. “Get away from my Dad!” A forceful energy pulses from her palm and sends Vecna flying backward. She holds out her other hand and aggressively marches forward, pushing him further and further away. She feels every ounce of love for her father and every molecule of anger toward 001 coursing through her veins. She envisions everyone he hurt, every lie he told, as she pins him down, sending him splashing onto the ground of the void. His body is enveloped by the mysterious liquid, nearly hidden from her view, until a hole in the darkness opens in the distance. Suddenly, she sees straight through the void with clarity and precision. She sees Vecna held in place, deep in the frozen abyss, latched onto the vines within the mindflayer’s cave. He is siphoning the energy from the children, growing stronger with each passing moment. Satisfied with his current neutralization, she runs back, finding a frantic Joyce trying to comfort an inconsolable Hopper.
“He’s right,” he stammers, weak with sorrow. “You’re better off without me.”
“That’s not true,” Joyce says softly. She tucks her hands under his leather jacket and holds him by the waist. “He’s a liar. Don’t listen to him.”
“Dad,” El adds, lovingly taking hold of his hand. “I don’t care about the fights. I don’t care about Brenner. That was before – before home. Before us. You did what you thought was right. We had a lot to learn, but we did it together.” She pauses, smiling hopefully, then continues, her voice even softer, sweeter, and more sincere. “It’s okay. We’re okay.”
Hopper stares at them both in disbelief. He inspects every curve of their faces, waiting for them to disappear like the other visions. “This isn’t – you’re not here.” He pulls away. “You’re not here. You’re not real. This isn’t real.”
Joyce is pained by the denial. Her mind races as she tries to think of any way to break through to him. “El,” she says, eyes widening as an idea develops. “Can you – can you show him something real?”
“What do you mean? We’re right here!” El says, flustered as Hopper paces back and forth muttering nonsense under his breath.
“I mean, show him … a vision. A memory. But a good one. Something Henry wouldn’t show him. Something to bring him back to us.”
El nods. “Dad,” she says gently, walking toward him. He turns to look at her and twitches, still hesitant in her presence. She reaches cautiously, closing her eyes and slowly placing her hands on his temples.
She exhales as they travel deeper into the mindscape, pictured panels flipping like a slideshow in the sky. She opens her eyes and beams at the sight of her and Joyce at the kitchen table, the sunrise peeking through the windows of their house in Lenora.
“So this is Hopper’s Triple Decker Extravaganza, huh?” Joyce chuckles, pouring M&Ms onto the stack of waffles. “Breakfast of champions.”
El laughs, spraying the whipped cream on top of the tower. “It’s the best.” She picks up the fork but her hand halts as she goes to take a bite. “But it’s not the same … without him.” Her voice cracks. She drops the utensil on the table and buries her face in her hands.
Joyce slides her chair beside El and wraps her arms around her shoulders. “I know, honey. I know. I miss him too.” They sit for a moment, silent but for the sniffles, allowing the grief to wash over them. The waves were less frequent, but every bit as crushing as the day he disappeared. “Did you know he had a tattoo?” Joyce smirks, brushing El’s hair from her face and tucking it behind her hair.
El snickers through the tears. “He - he did?”
“Sure did,” Joyce exclaims playfully, wiping the tears from El’s cheek. “Got it in high school.”
“What was it?”
“Three stars.” She points to three spots just above El’s knee. “One, two, three.”
Hopper is mesmerized by the interaction, his heart swelling at the sweetness of the moment. He moves closer, looking on in awe as they continue.
“No way,” El laughs. “Why stars?”
“One for him, one for his soulmate, and one for the child they’d raise one day. He said it was a reminder – to stay focused, to live a good life. You know, ever since we were kids, he always wanted to have a family of his own -- to be a dad, to love and honor and protect. He didn’t have that growing up, so he was determined to make it a reality someday.”
“And he did,” El says, a bittersweet reply. “With Sara.”
“And with you,” Joyce adds, gently touching a finger to El's nose. “He loved you so much.”
El leans into Joyce’s embrace and rests her head on her shoulder. “He loved you, too,” she says. “Honored. Protected. You were the second star. His soulmate.”
Joyce tenses as she fights back the tears, trying to stay strong. “I know,” she chokes. “And he was mine. He was mine.”
Hopper is speechless. He turns to El, stunned.
“See?” she says. “This is real, Hopper. We need you.”
“B-but,” he sputters. “This … it could be … a trick. Another lie.”
“Dad,” El urges. “It’s not a trick. Please… believe me.” She presses her hand to his heart and another vision appears.
Hopper blinks the moisture from his eyes. His breathing slows as he watches himself snuggled up on the couch alongside El, their hair just starting to grow back from their time apart. He smiles as he watches the memory of them laughing, eating popcorn, drinking Coca-Colas while watching Miami Vice. His former self smiles, overwhelmed with gratitude, then lowers his face and kisses the top of El’s head. “It’s good to be home,” he says. “I missed this. I missed you.”
El shrinks, embedding herself deeper into the crook underneath his arm. Her eyes are heavy as she wraps her arms around him. “I missed you, too. I haven’t slept – not good I mean – since your funeral. I just never felt … safe.”
“I’m so sorry, kid,” Hopper replies. “I’m here now. I’ve got you.”
“Don’t ever leave me again, okay?” El yawns.
“I won’t.”
“Promise?” she asks, drifting off to sleep.
“I promise.”
The frame freezes as El attempts once again to wake Hopper from his dreamstate. “Do you remember?” she begs.
“I remember,” he whispers.
“You promised.”
“I promised.” Something in his eyes shifts – comprehension… recognition. “You’re really here. You’re both ... real.”
And just like that, Joyce is there beside him once again, a look of love and gratitude on her face. It was the same look she had when he came back from the Upside Down and reunited with her at the Squawk. A look of peace. A look of safety. A look that felt like coming home.
“Yes,” Joyce exclaims. “And we need you, Hop. We need to go, before Henry comes back. Wake up, baby. Please, wake up.” She stretches onto her toes and pulls him into a desperate, longing kiss, and –
Hopper sits up, his eyes wide open. He looks around at the blank, gray walls, the water tank, El and Joyce kneeling at his side. Joyce leans in, pressing her forehead to his. “You saved me,” he breathes. “Again.” He pulls back, and pulls El into the embrace. “He got me,” he sighs. “Thank you.”
“Anytime,” El smiles, relieved. “Time to go.”
They all rise to their feet and make their way to the door, but Hopper stops, an unanswered question still burning in his brain. “Henry said –” he starts, eyeing El, every syllable laced with heartache. “You and Kali were planning to … he said you would leave. Like Sara. Said you’ve decided. To leave me.”
“What’re you talking about?” Joyce answers incredulously. “She’s not going anywhere, Hop, except out of this lab. Let’s go.”
But El can’t hide the guilt in her reaction. She won’t hide the truth from him anymore. “Actually, Joyce, I – “
Joyce’s jaw drops as she is taken aback by the admission. “What do you mean?”
“This is it. For me. I have to end it. End all of this. Somehow.”
“I don’t think so!”Joyce shouts, raising her hands in the air in protest. “How could you even say something like that? How could you even think about doing something so –”
El interrupts her tirade by closing the gap between her and Hopper and addressing him directly. “Like your fail safe,” she explains. “I was angry at first but … but then I understood. You had to keep me safe. That's what I'm doing. Keeping you and everybody we love, keeping the rest of the world … safe.” Hopper can’t bring himself to disagree, too tired and heartbroken to respond.
Kali returns from distracting the guards, and tying a few of them up in knots, just in time to hear the contentious exchange. She pauses outside the doorway, listening in.
Joyce refuses to entertain El’s plan. “You listen to me,” she says resolutely. “I've been there. I may not have powers, may not have a target on my back just for existing, but I know what it’s like to want the hurt, the pain to end so badly, that you think going away is the only solution. But that is a lie, El. Deeper and darker than any lie Henry could conjure. The world is never better when a good person leaves it. Do you understand me?”
El listens, tears in her eyes. She wants to believe, but the fear, the agony, they’re ever present. “I can’t see another way out,” she cries.
“If I would've left,” Joyce continues. “I would've missed out on so many things. Seeing my boys grow up, finding love, finding you.” She reaches out and pulls Hopper toward them, wrapping her arms around them both. “There is a life on the other side of this. We are a family. Your Dad and I, you, Will, Jonathan, and your sister. And this family? Doesn’t give up. We fight -- together.”
Hopper nudges El with his shoulder, smiling down at her. She feels a contagious hope growing within her.
“You can’t see another way out? Then let us find it for you,” Joyce urges. “We've been in hiding before, we can do it again. Whatever it takes. One fight at a time.”
“You want to save us,” Hopper adds. “But any life without you isn't a life worth saving, kid.”
El stutters, trying to find the right words to say, as Kali energetically bursts into the room.
“They’re right, Jane,” she declares. “I'd give anything to have my friends… my family back. They were taken from me, but you and I … we’re together now.” She takes El by the hand, her voice low and earnest. “And if there’s any way we can be together in the future, any way to keep your family together? That's worth fighting for. We’ll find another way.”
El nods in agreement, and Hopper, Joyce, and Kali all encircle her in a hug.
“Not to interrupt the tender moment,” Kali muffles in the midst of the embrace. “But the bad guys will snap out of it any second. Can we take this huddle elsewhere?”
“But what about the tank?” Hopper asks. “We need to find Henry.”
“I know where he is,” El exclaims as they sprint down the hall. “One fight at a time.”