Chapter 4: Welcome to Your Life

Hopper never missed a day, but sometimes Eleven did. Or she couldn't access the drop point, he wasn't sure, but in random intervals and for several days at a time the box would go untouched. He didn't know why for sure, but her absences suspiciously coincided with the steadily closing inter-dimensional tears. After about a month, when he had convinced himself that there was no doubt it was the girl and when he had worked up the nerve, he decided it was time.

Her powers had become much stronger. She supposed it was only natural, as she practiced every day. Papa would have been so proud. She didn't need a deprivation tank to find people anymore. If she just closed her eyes and focused, she could slip into the dark place. There, she could find Mike.

She tried not to do it often. She knew she needed to save her energy. The sooner she finished here, the sooner she could see him for real. But sometimes she was weak.

She sat down, cross-legged, beneath a large tree. It was a very tall, very unique tree that she had stumbled across during her many travels. She settled down and closed her eyes, focusing on her breathing.

In. Out. In. Out.

She began to hum softly, the white noise helping her block out the sounds around her. Her stomach swooped and…she opened her eyes to find herself in the Void. A soft voice echoed behind her. She turned slowly, a smile tugging at her lips.

She'd discovered pretty quickly that Mike spoke to her at a specific time each day. It was hard to keep track of time here, but she'd been able to find a kind of rhythm. After the Policeman refilled the box the second time in a day, if she walked from that spot to this tree, Mike would be in the Void. The timing wasn't perfect, and even now, it seemed Mike had been speaking to her for a while already. Disappointing.

Sometimes he was happy when he spoke to her. Sometimes he was very, very sad. Today, he is angry.

"-believe the bad men over their own son, it's such BS! They think it's my fault, that you-you brainwashed me or something, but they're the ones who are being brainwashed!"

His face was bright red as he hunched over his Super-Com in the familiar blanket fort of the Wheeler's basement. The whole picture was the most color she'd seen since the last time she'd visited him.

"They won't listen when I try to tell them the truth. You were protecting us, I know you were! Because you're good, El. You're

good."

She lowered her head in shame. If she were good, there would be no reason for her to be here right now.

He paused for several minutes, his anger slowly fading to wistfulness.

"I miss you, El."

Tears gathered in her eyes. She missed him so much it hurt more than anything that could cause her pain in this place.

"Please, El, just...give me some sort of sign that you're alright. Anything, anything at all. I just need to know you're ok."

He waited for a moment, listening. And just like every other night, she bit the inside of her mouth, hard, and stayed quiet.

He sighed, his whole body slouching. He was used to disappointment by now.

"I feel like...you're just...fading away."

She felt that way too.

"It's like no one knows you, the real you, even though you

saved us all. You're a hero, but no one even knows."

He scoffed and wiped at his eyes.

"But I won't forget, El. I know who you are. And I promise I'll never forget about you."

Please, please forget about me.

"And I'm not going to stop looking for you. Ever."

Please, please don't look for me.

"Even if - even if you never answer me."

A sob choked out of her, so sudden it scared her. She covered her mouth with her hands.

Mike jumped from the feedback and paused to listen again, waiting a long while before he finally gave up, looking despondent.

"I hope you're ok."

He was hurting because of her. But he hoped she was ok.

She was lying on her back, blood oozing down her face and tears leaking out of her eyes. A terrible pain in her chest was keeping her pinned to the ground. She couldn't move, and she vaguely reminded herself that this was exactly why she must not visit Mike any more.

Every time she did, she got that much closer to answering him, of giving the smallest sign if only to relieve his pain a little. But it could not be. If he knew she was here, he would put himself into danger to find her. She didn't want to give him false hope. There was a good chance she may never make it out of here alive. The best thing that could happen was if he forgot about her and moved on with his life. Even if the thought alone made her curl in on herself, wrapping her arms tightly around her legs to try to keep the pain at bay. Otherwise she would just burst apart and leak away into the mire.

He asked her to meet him at a quiet diner just outside of town, one he knew was lucky to have more than two customers at a time and conveniently housed a sequestered table in the back corner where sound didn't easily carry. He was coolly determined when she walked in, but felt unusually anxious.

She looked confused, but mostly worried, sitting down across from him and immediately messing with her sleeves.

"Hop, what's going on? Your note-" He hadn't dared contact her over the phone. "-something's happened, hasn't it? Are we in danger?"

He caught her wrists, saving her sleeves from being picked to threads and silencing her.

"Joyce. We're not in danger."

She relaxed a tiny bit, but that little furrow between her eyebrows didn't go away. He sighed.

"At least...not yet. Look, I need to tell you something. Something I should have told you before, so please just listen, don't interrupt and...try not to start yelling."

The furrow deepened.

"You remember Eleven?"

Her face fell as she remembered the lost looking little girl who she owed her son's life to, and hadn't even said goodbye to. Joyce had not been able to talk about her since that night at the hospital, when the euphoria of having her child safe was marred by the news of the loss of another. Though she'd only known her for a few hours, Joyce had felt an immediate maternal connection to the little girl. She nodded, her shoulders slouching.

"Of course I do."

Hopper drew a breath. "There's more you need to know."

He launched into it, explaining how he'd bargained Eleven's location so they could rescue Will, how the agents had approached him afterwards, how he'd been working with the lab, and everything that he had seen and found there. Her face grew stonier and stonier as he continued, not leaving a single detail out, no matter how painful. She deserved to know the whole truth, and that was exactly what she was going to get.

Even if it fundamentally changed what she thought of him.

He was waiting for her to say something now, but didn't push it, watching the cogs in her head whir as she processed everything he'd said.

"You...you let an innocent child die so you could save another?" She was looking at him with wide eyes, simultaneously horrified and disgusted.

He looked down at the mottled table top, brow creasing. "Joyce...you don't understand, I had no ch-"

"Bullshit! Bull. Shit. We could have figured something else out, you could have lied-!"

"No, you don't understand!" He leaned forward, his voice rough but low, trying to keep this from escalating into a yelling match. "Will was dying, you saw him! He almost didn't make it!"

She looked like she wanted to argue, her eyes still glittering with indignation, but her lips pressed together, down turned.

"He didn't have a moment to spare! The girl may not have deserved it, but she was the only option we had, Joyce! What would you have had me do? She could at least protect herself and those kids, and they wanted her alive. Will was dying. I weighed my options, and made a decision."

He rubbed his forehead, closing his eyes against the pain blooming in his temple. "I-I thought I'd put out one fire at a time, you know? I thought there would be time...to help her, later. I didn't know what was going to happen, that that thing would show up, that she'd take it on. I just - I didn't..." He closed his eyes, an unusual wave of self-doubt washing over him. "I didn't see any other way. I had to save him. I didn't know what else to do."

It was one of the most difficult admissions of his life. The guilt of months washed over him afresh. He was so blinded by his ego, his need to feel depended upon, and his deep seated desire to not feel helpless again, that he had been willing to trade a child's life. It's not what he'd intended, but he'd known the risks. An innocent girl had paid the price for his short comings. He felt so weak.

He felt the light touch of a hand on his wrist and opened his eyes. Joyce was looking at him, her eyes softer. Marginally.

"You made a mistake." She said firmly. "I know you can see that now. I don't know...I-I don't know if I can ever look at you the same, Hop."

He expected as much, and accepted it. Even if she was one of the few people in his life who had cared and depended on him.

"Will is my baby, my little boy. I don't know what I would have done differently, I can't even think about it...but she didn't deserve that. She didn't deserve any of it. In the school...she was so frightened, Hop, her eyes..."

Joyce sighed, her hard expression crumbling into a sorrowful one and she slumped, digging her palms into her eyes, months of accumulated regrets pouring out all at once.

"But she did it anyways. I don't know why. She barely knew any of us, but she helped us. And I thought I could pay her back somehow, that I could do something. It's stupid. I thought - I thought I'd take her in."

She smiled a pained smile that was clearly holding back tears. "But then she was gone and I never thanked her. I didn't even say goodbye. I just - she was just a little girl. She was practically a baby. She never even had a chance." Her voice wavered, and somehow this was so much worse than her anger.

Suddenly, he remembered the reason he called her here in the first place. He leaned in and lowered his voice.

"She may still have one."

Joyce jerked up to look at him, eyes damp and incredulous.

"She's alive, Joyce."

He told her everything, feeling guilty as he did. Knowing this put her and her family at risk again, but also realizing that Joyce would want to know.

They spent the rest of the night discussing the safest way to look for her. The lab thought she was dead and had no intention of investigating her disappearance as far as Hopper knew. Under new management, focus had shifted to rapid containment and her case was considered closed. They didn't have any reason to suspect her possible survival or their search, but that didn't mean they shouldn't be on guard. They puzzled out ways to communicate about their activities in case they were being monitored and made plans for scenarios in case one of them found her.

By the end of the night, they were both exhausted, but strangely energized. Joyce turned back to him, arm holding the car door open, her eyes burning with determination as she fixed him with a gaze that left no room for argument.

"You find her. No matter what it takes. You find that little girl and you bring her home, Hop."

He wouldn't fail her this time. However, he'd made very little progress on how exactly to get her back. The portals were closing, slowly but surely, sewn together by the girl herself in response to what he could only assume was some misplaced guilt and self-inflicted responsibility. It wasn't her fault, any of it, and he wished he could tell her that.

But Hopper also knew she was the only one who could fix the tears that had caused so much harm and had the potential to cause so much more. He understood why she'd made the choices she had.

The problem was, the healing was happening with her on the wrong side. Would she have enough strength to make it back to their side on her own? Or was she sealing herself in, accepting her fate? What kind sort of toll did patching inter-dimensional schisms leave on her psyche? And on top of that, how was she surviving in that seething, toxic environment for so long? They were questions he couldn't answer, but plagued his mind daily none the less.

The least he could do was try to get her some food and resources, though they didn't always get through. Bigger items, for instance, didn't seem able to translate. Once he left her a pair of winter boots, thick wool socks, pants, and a fluffy, white coat, concerned about the snow that was falling heavier each night (did it snow in the Upside Down? He didn't know, but it was cold and wet no matter the weather, according the Will). When he returned, only the food and socks were gone.

She always left him something in return. Sometimes it was simple. A collection of pebbles, arranged in the shape of a star. A cracked mug covered in slime and dirt with twigs set neatly inside like flowers in a vase. Sometimes it was more intricate. Tiny, crudely formed figurines made out of twisted vines and what looked like buttons. The gifts never failed to bring a smile to his face and the anticipation he felt each time he approached the box was a lightness he had not experienced in a very long time.

But the gifts were not just a sign of thankfulness for the necessities he left for her. They were so much more than that. There were little assurances. I'm still here. I'm ok.

He tried to leave little surprises in addition to the supplies he delivered each night. The small plastic figure of a horse, a package of Pixie Sticks, a picture of the boys he had snagged from an album in Joyce's house one evening while checking in.

Sometimes the gifts he left didn't make it through, but most of the time they did. Once he left a notebook and pen, hoping she would communicate something more, maybe tell him how he could get her out of there. But it was untouched when he returned, either she didn't understand, or she couldn't access it for whatever reason. Maybe she didn't have the words to tell him how to help her. Maybe she had nothing to say to him.

He closed the lid of the box and lit a cigarette, sighing and looking out into the woods, imagining her stepping out from behind a tree. He hoped he was making things even a little bit better for her.

The Shadow being still did not know who she was.

But He had come far too close to figuring it out. It searched for her night and day. She'd used her powers like a cloak to stay just out of sight. But it was getting harder. He had spies everywhere. His control over this land had spread like a plague, taking control of every creature. They roamed the Upside Down at His bidding, searching for her. She progressed further with her plan, but it came with a price as she was forced to proceed to more dangerous ground.

She'd been relieved to find that the breaches had not spread beyond Hawkins. The job was daunting, but not insurmountable. Still, to her, if Hawkins was lost it may very well be the world, as it was all she'd ever known in her short life.

Just a little longer. Just a little longer and she could return home.

She pulled her knees up closer to her chest for some warmth as she held the rumpled photo in both hands, fingers running over the shapes of the boys smiling back at her. When she first found the picture in the box, she'd stared at it and wept for hours straight.

It didn't make her cry anymore. Now it was a goal. She would see them again, and not just on a piece of paper. It steeled her resolve and pushed her forward.

Just a little longer.


I love the idea of Hopper and El, despite all the odds, being able to form this unique father/daughter relationship. And let's face it, that conversation between Joyce and Hopper was something I needed to see and didn't get in Season 2.