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Pulling back up to the Byers house in silence, Hopper puts the truck in park and just sits there for a moment. His body feels tired and heavy, like every muscle is full of lead. There's twinges of pain accompanying the ever present ache that doesn't have a start or end. Hopper looks over to make sure El's still holding up well enough, and is satisfied with seeing her eyes blinking back at him. Opening his door, he slumps out into the cold November air. He can't believe Halloween was just last week.
The red Camaro parked in front of the house stops him short for a second, but he clambers on past it, not knowing what to think of it. He's pretty sure it's the same one he's seen speeding around town as of late. The last thing they need is another teenager wrapped up in all this, but with their luck, maybe one of Harrington's friends tracked him down or something. He honestly just wants to get El inside and wait for Joyce. All other problems can be worked on later.
Leading El to the door and taking note of how much more quiet and still she is, Hopper sighs at his ever devolving life. He hasn't had a decent night's rest in well over a week, and his head has been pounding since at least that first night he got a call from Joyce.
Opening the door and gesturing El in, Hopper grunts as he steps through after her. He's gonna need the vacation of a lifetime after all this nonsense. He lets the door fall closed behind him, just to freeze in the doorway.
The house was by no means spotless when he left, buy Hopper is still taken aback by the state of the living room. The millions of papers strewn about are genuinely the cleanest part.
And there, slumped at the table, is one very beat to shit Steve Harrington.
Now Hopper has had his fair share of inconveniences and injuries in the last twenty-four hours, but the state of the Harrington boy looks like the aftermath of a horror movie. His face is black, red, and blue. His clothes are stained with blood and grime, and there is all sorts of sticky, Upside Down looking gunk clinging to him from head to toe. Whatever the hell happened to him, he probably needs to be decontaminated.
Hopper takes an instinctive half step toward him, then aborts it in favor of surveying the rest of the house.
There's a long-haired boy sprawled out on the living room floor, which Hopper can only assume is the owner of the Camaro out front. The brats are all on the other side of the living room, stunningly quiet, with matching shell-shocked demeanors.
Hopper's eyes drift over the rest of the room.
Glass and furniture are shattered around the house. The bookshelf is crooked from its original position, pressed up into the corner of the wall. There are broken pieces of dishes scattered around, and most alarming are the shards coated in blood near the bookshelf.
The more he looks, the more obvious it becomes that whatever happened here tonight wasn't just some teenage fight.
Hopper shudders at the knowledge that this night is probably going to haunt them all for a very long time. He's always despised when children get caught up in the dark underbelly of the world, and sometimes he forgets that El isn't the only one who's suffered because of these rich, arrogant assholes.
How much cruelty are they being asked to hold onto instead of living happy childhoods?
His eyes drift back toward Steve. Even privileged pretty boys like him aren't spared from all this ugly.
That thought has him forcing down a snort, borderline delirious at the insanity of it all. He doesn't know what happened here yet, but looking around the room, he gets the distinct feeling that he doesn't want to.
Nevertheless as the adult in the room he knows it's his repsibility to sort it out. He makes his way to the table carefully, not wanting to add any frantic energy or get the kids all wound up by his worry.
It looks even worse up close, not a single part of his face or neck is untouched by all the unpleasent substances.
"Hey kid." he aims for causual, trying to gadge where Steve's mind is at." How you feeling?"
Steve looks up and squints at him, looking behind Hopper at nothing then back to his face.
"Me?" he asks genuianley. "I feel like a million bucks."
Which, okay. Sure. Guess the kids going with deflection. Why not?
It doesn't help the situation whatsoever when Steve attempts to reassure him with a bloody smile that looks much more like a grimace.
He doesn't want to admit it in front of the kids, but he's defintley not looking too good. Knowing he's not going to like it, while also knowing it needs to be said, Hopper levels Steve with a no-nonsense look.
"You're gonna need to get checked out."
All the kids perk up a bit at that, exchanging worried looks. Even the redhead isn't bothering to pretend not to be stressed.
There's definitely a hell of a story he's missing out on right now, but despite his gruff exterior, Hopper knows when it's not necessary to push. It'd feel a bit like kicking someone when they're already down.
Especially with the way confusion keeps flitting across Steve's face between each blink.
The colorful Band-Aids adorning his cheeks and chin are undoubtedly a souvenir from Dustin, the kid who, bless his heart, more than likely did more harm than good while applying them to a battered Steve.
The face coverings still slung around the kids' necks or discarded on the furniture tell him they had a little side quest of their own. The gooey footprints tell him it was somewhere Upside Down related, and the soot all over them tells him it was more explosive than just a stroll through town.
The more Hopper takes in of the state of the house and the kids, the more he knows he's not gonna like a single word that comes out of their mouths.
What exactly went down while he was away? What has this crew faced while he and El were staring down the belly of the beast?
The story the injuries coating Steve's face tells only gets sharper the more Hopper takes in of their surroundings.
Steve probably just took the beating of a lifetime while somehow, either before or after, getting dragged into some project hail mary bullshit to better the odds for El.
And judging by the way the kid is sitting there, eyes drifitng over everything and nothing, Hopper isn't convinced Steve is even aware of how badly he's been hurt.
"Steve."
The kid's eyes lift toward him again.
"I'm fine."
Hopper gives him a flat look.
Steve smiles agian, lopsided and painful looking, before resting his head on his hands and letting his eyes drift shut.
Hopper puts his hand on his shoulder gentle but intentionaly. "Hey now, can't fall asleep on me Harrington."
El appears at his side, "Steve?" she questions.
His eyes drift back open at that, "Oh. El. I almos' forgot. How's it goin'… How'd it- How'd it go?"
Before El could say a word Steve seemed to register the blood pouring down her nose, and despite his own little fiasco he's got going on his eyes widen and he sits back up a bit.
"Are you oka' ? 'm so selfish." "Did it work? Are you alrigh'?"
Lucas appears in the kitchen. "Don't say that." he says quietly but firm. Firsts clenched and eyes focused on Steve. "You're not selfish."
"But.. But El-" Steve stuggles to catch his breath as he questions clumisly to the girl.
Hopper moves himself into Steve's line of sight to block everything else out. "Slow down Harrington. It's fine. Your fine. Everything's fine."
Steve breaths out a long breath and nods belatedly. "Yeah, 'm fine." Hopper is clenching his teeth so hard he's sure he's going to regret it int he morning. If morning ever comes at this rate.
"Let's just get you to the bathroom buddy, get you cleaned up."
Hopper holds out a hand and helps Steve to his feet so they can start their shuffle to the bathroom. Steve takes half his step before his knees buckle and Hopper's stomach catches him before he can hit the floor.
He ignores the severeal cries of his name and hauls him up. He is equally relived and concered by the responding groans. Hopper adjusts his grip as Lucas steps in to help hold him up and move to the couch.
Between them, they get him upright again. Steve leans heavily against Hopper, breathing hard through his nose.They get him to the couch instead."Easy," Hopper mutters, lowering Steve down carefully. Steve makes another low groan, his head lolling back against the cushions.
For a second, nobody moves. Then Steve blinks, looks around for a moment. "Did I...?"
"You nearly ate shit," Lucas confirms.
Steve frowns. "Oh."
Hopper crouches in front of him. "You with us?"
Steve looks at him and frowns. Then he nods. "Yeah." he seems to decide.
Hopper studies him.
"Really. Steve gives him his best attempt at a reassuring smile, "I'm okay."
"Sure you are." Hopper looks over his shoulder. "Somebody get me a towel."
Dustin is already moving. "I got it."
The kid disappears into the bathroom, while Hopper keeps his attention on Steve who is staring at the ceiling. Hopper doens't really like the way the boy is staring at the ceiling or how his eyes keep drifting. It doesn't seem like he's really focused on anything.
"Hey." he calls out.
Steve looks down. "Yeah?"
"Stay awake for me." Hopper states directly, hoping the order will get through his fog.
"I'm awake."
Hopper nods encouragingly "Good."
Steve nods back solemnly, then his eyes close.
Hopper's stomach twists. "Steve."
His eyes open again. "I'm awake."
Hopper would roll his eyes if he wans't so concerned. "Uh-huh."
Steve looks almost offended. "I am."
"Then keep 'em open." he tell shim while dapping gently at his forhead with the towel Dustin hands over.
Steve sighs.