The Ride

Jim Hopper did not like having Mike Wheeler at the cabin. Especially, when he was not accompanied by friends. He understood the need the let Jane see him, but he certainly wasn't going to to encourage it go any further than friendship. As such, he poli-chaperoned their visits like a vulture circling its prey. Leaning against the kitchen counter with arms folded and sporting his perfected scowl, The Sheriff watched and waited for the boy to step over a boundary.

Every so often, El-Jane would look over at him and stick out her tongue or scrunch up her face in consternation. He would have to have her look that one up. He narrowed his eyes and in return, but curled his lip to let her know he was not mad at her. He had done his best to prepare her for the drama of relationships while at the same time trying to deter her from anything serious. The trouble with this situation was that it was not normal at all; in any way. Mike had saved her life just as she had saved his, more than once. He had protected her; kept her safe. He had become her friend when the world had turned against her. There was no finding fault with that.

He watched closely, as Mike's arm, which was on the back of the couch, creeped toward Jane's opposite shoulder. Brazen move, Kid. Just as the hand came to rest and Jane turned to look at it, Hopper was off the counter and at the couch in a flash. He tapped the boy on the head and raised his eyebrows in a threat. The Wheeler kid had never been on Hopper's radar before the events of last year, but ever since Jane's return, he had taken exception with Hopper. The kid had the nerve to shrug at him, and not move is arm. That was all it took for Hopper to move the arm himself and round the couch to face the two of them.

"Jane, Mike and I need to have a talk," he declared, though peacefully. It won't take long, but it's going to happen right now."

He waited for her to explode, to call him names, even to use her powers to throw something at him. It didn't happen. She looked at him, a hurt in her eyes which appeared whenever she was to be separated from Mike. However, her eyes showed something else, something new. Trust. It was a mighty validation for a dad.

"Will he back?" she asked.

"I haven't decided," Hopper responded, truthfully. "We're going for a drive. It is not bad. But, it is necessary. Understand?"

"I understand," she replied, fixing him with a solemn gaze. "What time will you be back?"

Hopper looked at his watch. It was already 3:30. "No later than 4-1-5."

Hopper saw Mike look at his own watch. "Forty-five minutes?"

"I have a lot to say," Hopper replied, directly.

Mike had been quiet up to that point, his face showing a battle over what attitude he intended to take with the Sheriff. Hopper thought the kid should be showing a little more fear that he was. But, he guessed the kid had not decided to the let their beef go. That was problem with kids. All emotions and hormones and self righteousness.

Hopper nodded at Jane and told Mike it was time to go. The boy stood as did Jane and they hugged. Hopper did not interfere.

Once they were in the truck, the Sheriff rolled down he window and shook a cigarette from the pack which had been sitting on he dashboard. He lit it and took a long drag.

"You shouldn't be smoking with a kid in your car," Mike said, defiantly.

Hopper took the cigarette from his mouth and pointed it the boy. "And, you shouldn't be talking right now. This will be a one sided conversation." Hopper looked at the cigarette and, frustrated by some unknown guilt, pitched it out the window.

"I know what you're going to say, Sheriff," Mike began, trying to head off what he thought would be a lecture on how to treat girls.

"Do you, now?" Hopper replied, incredulous. "Please enlighten me."

The boy shook his mop of black hair in irritation at having to actually explain himself. "You don't want us kissing or me putting my arm around her. You don't want us sitting too closely together. You don't want us to touch each other at all!"

"You're damn right, I don't!" Hopper snapped. "You're 12. She's 13-ish. Holding hands is a major concession. Get me?

Mike was silent, barely managing to contain his emotions.

"If I had my way, you wouldn't be seeing her at all. That stunt you pulled at the Byers house, the night The Gate was closed. It was out of line. And the attit-"

"-We thought she w-" Mike tried to interject.

"Keep you mouth shut and listen," Hopper growled, silencing the interruption. "I don't care if you thought she was dead. That's what I wanted. That's what was needed for her to stay safe. Believe it or not, that's what it took to keep you safe too. I was not and am not concerned about your 'feelings' for El. My primary concern is that she is safe, protected, and loved. By me."

Mike seethed. His white face shaded to a dark pink. "That's not fair!" he shouted.

Hopper fought to control his own emotions. This was not is son, but the kid was party of 'family' which had shared a uniquely traumatic experience. An experience which had bound them all together in a way that he imagined only combat soldiers understood. His grimace softened.

"I never said it was fair, Mike," He said, evenly. "It just is. El-Jane-my daughter, is not a normal person. I know you understand that. But, you have to understand that it's not only about the power she has inside her. It's about..."

A lump formed in Hopper's throat. He fought to even keep the welling of tears in his eyes. He would not show a weakness, if that's even what it was, in front of this kid.

"It's about the fact that she was raised as a machine. Do you understand me? A machine. The people at Hawkins Lab abused her physically, mentally, psychologically. All that shit! They didn't teach her to read or write. They didn't teach her to talk more than to understand commands and respond to a few simple questions. She was an animal to them. But an animal that could do the tricks they needed done.

Mike didn't talk; the angry color fading form his face. His hands were in his lap and his head was down. Hopper got the impression he was listening. He continued.

"One of those tricks was making contact with the...what did you guys call it? The Demigorgan? Just imagine how scared he was. Is she strong. Of course! But, do you think a little girl with no family or friends, no love or support, could handle real fucking monster from another dimension?"

"She did," Mike whispered, his head still down. "She killed it."

"Damn straight, she killed it," Hopper agreed. "Because she couldn't let you and the others die. What did that get her? A one way trip to the Upside Down. Alone."

Mike was wringing his hands now. "I get it. At least, I think I get it. But it still sucks."

Hopper shook another cigarette from the pack and lit it. "Okay, Kid. Let me have it."

To be concluded...