Hello all! Sorry for the delay! Did everyone watch the new trailer? Looks amazing!

Chapter Three

"You help people?" she brightened, eyes wide and a hopeful smile painting her face, "you help find people?"

"Like missing people?" he ventured, brow furrowed low over his eyes, "yeah. I do. Are you- is someone looking for you?"

They were, but she wasn't going to admit that to him just yet. Instead, she shook her head and replied, "I'm looking for someone."

"Who?"

"My daughter."

Silence fell between them and, the longer the sheriff stared at her, the more she became uncomfortable. She was used to people staring at her, but that didn't mean she had to like it. So long as he wasn't like the monster that enjoyed abusing her for hours on end, she allowed it.

"You have a daughter," he repeated, patting his chest before looking at the jacket he had given her. Gesturing toward it, he queried hesitantly, "Er… may I?"

She didn't know what he wanted but narrowed her eyes and nodded slowly anyway. She didn't necessarily trust him, but he hadn't shown himself to be a threat to her yet. She kept her palms faced upward on her lap, though, just in case.

He approached her, plucking at the jacket around her shoulders, pulling it out toward him and digging through the pockets. His movements were quick despite his injuries and he stepped back, armed with a pen and a pad of paper.

She fought the urge to roll her eyes; she knew what those were.

The pen poised over the notepad, he queried calmly, professionally, "What's your daughter's name?"

"Daughter."

He blinked rapidly, exhaling slowly, before repeating uncertainly, "Her name is… Daughter? You don't… call her anything else? What do other people call her?"

"Daughter," she replied vehemently, rising to her feet and approaching him quickly. He held his ground, though a spark of fear flashed through his dark eyes at her intensity, his gaze flicking between her brandished palms. "She has no other name. She is my daughter. Daughter only."

She hated to hear the girl labelled as Eleven. Not only did it remind her that the child was nothing more than an experiment trapped and tortured under her father's direction, but it also reminded her of the others she hadn't managed to protect.

"Okay!" Hopper exclaimed, raising his own hands in surrender, nodding fervently and assuring her, "I get it. Daughter, it is."

He jotted down some notes, however haltingly, and she lifted herself onto her toes, attempting to read what he had written. He tilted the pad toward himself, though, and queried, "How old is she?"

"Thirteen," One responded immediately, her memory flitting to the first time she had seen the girl, to the woman that she had been forcibly removed from. She had stumbled upon the scene, a child herself, and the bloodied infant had been shoved into her arms; the wailing thing caught her by surprise, but she held it close when the nurse had come to take her back.

"Okay, so your daughter is thirteen?" Hopper repeated, shaking his head slightly as though in disbelief, "who's the father? Where's he? Could she be with him?"

"No," she denied with a growl, lip curling as she glared back into the forest, "she can't."

"Is he dead?" the sheriff queried, eyes flitting over her face, taking in any and all cues he could from her.

"No," she noted again, though the disappointment in her tone was obvious, "he's not. He's a bad man, Sheriff. His death would be a good thing."

"Did he… force himself?" Hopper inquired haltingly, a grim frown tugging at his lips. He swiped absently at the blood trickling down his nose and chin, his own injuries forgotten. "On you? And then you had your daughter?"

"Not him," she replied honestly, lifting a shoulder at his gaping expression as though it was nothing. It was nothing. She had lost any fear over it long ago; she'd fostered a burning hatred for the man, though, for well over a decade.

"Not- then who? What was his name? When did this happen? Is it still going on? How long has he been hurting you? Has-"

"Stop," she begged him. Not from discomfort at his line of questioning, but the amount of questions lobbed at her. It reminded her too much of her sessions with Brenner and his men. She pressed a hand to her head and dropped into the back of the vehicle on once more. Lowering her gaze she assured him, "Another bad man."

"What's his name?" Hopper squatted before her, reaching out and resting a hand on her knee, now covered in his jacket, "I need to know. I can't help you if I don't know who's hurting you."

"I need you to find my daughter," she replied with a huff, rising to her feet and distancing herself from the still crouched sheriff, "I'm… okay. Find her. I need your help to find her."

He seemed resistant, arms resting on his thighs as he stared at the ground, but she stood her ground. It didn't matter what had happened to her. She had allowed it only because she couldn't stop it, and it kept the beast's attention off of her daughter. When she encountered him again, she would kill him; she didn't need this sheriff to do it for her.

"I know you're worried about her, and I will help you find her," Hopper assured her, standing and approaching her. He tucked the notepad into his pocket and the pen behind his ear as the strange, roaring noise she now recognized as belonging to a vehicle neared. She tossed a glance over her shoulder, but the sheriff continued, "I can help you with this, too, though. I can find him, arrest him-"

"I will kill him," she vowed, a flash of orange burning in her eyes. Her companion stared, startled, as a larger vehicle pulled up beside them, "help me find her, sheriff."

He sighed, warring with himself before turning away from her, stalking toward the vehicle. He spoke in muted tones to another man, who sat behind the wheel, before waving her over. She approached, cautious, and stared hard at the man, moving closer to Hopper when he turned to look at her.

"Uh, One, this is Powell," the sheriff gestured to the man, a hand falling to the small of her back. When she stiffened, he removed it immediately, but still she stepped closer to his side. "Powell, this is One. We're gonna help her find her daughter; she's missing. Not with the father. Last known whereabouts-," he glanced at her, but she stared, tight-lipped, at Powell, "unknown. You bring any clothes?"

"Nothing in the lost and found, Chief, but I stopped home," Powell replied, making to get out of the vehicle. One stepped back hastily and Hopper shook his head quickly. The other man remained in his seat, jerking a thumb over his shoulder toward the back seat. "Emma gave me some things. Don't know if they're small enough, but-"

"They'll do," Hopper replied, opening the back door and leaning in, retrieving a small bundle and offering it to One, "here, put these on. I'm gonna take you back to the station and ask you some more questions, get you something to eat. You okay with that?"

"My daughter?"

He caught her shoulder, giving her a light, warm squeeze, and vowing, "I'll find her, One. We'll find her. I promise."

Angelicedg: Thanks! I like all of those choices! I think a dark-haired Scarlett Johannsen is the closest to what I picture her as.

MultiFandomLover99: Thank you so much! I hope you liked this chapter too!

Guest: Thank you! I hope you enjoyed!