FLASHBACK
He whipped back around to face the window, turning quick enough to see Ted's lumbering figure close the curtains, and raise his hand.
The hand closest to Nancy.
He watched it make contact.
He watched her fall.
He did not watch himself sprint to the front door, kick it open, grab Ted Wheeler and all his might and slam him across the room and into the wall.
No, he did not watch that.
Why?
Because damn, he got scary when he was mad.
PRESENT TIME
Hopper felt the fury settle in, hard and unwavering. The man, (or should he even call him one) was whimpering and crying underneath him from his place pressed up against the wall. If it were any other time, Hopper would have felt horrible with causing someone such pain-but now, he didn't give one damn.
Once upon a time, he would have looked at someone like Ted Wheeler and would have held pity over them. He would've tried to help. That's his job after all, to help the good guys.
But his job was also punish the bad guys.
And Ted Wheeler was just another bad guy in need of punishing.
At least that's what Hopper told himself as he slammed Ted's head against the wall, one, two, three times.
That's what he told himself as he picked him up by his collar and threw him into the broken coffee table lying in the middle of the floor.
He was going to lay off, stop the beating, he really, truly, was.
Until he noticed that coffee table was the same one that Ted pushed Mike into only hours before. The one that Nancy cowered behind as she hid from her father's painful hand. The one that Mrs. Wheeler no doubt looked at in sadness and fear this evening, wondering where her baby boy was. Her hurt, strong, stubborn baby boy.
The one that Ted Wheeler was now sprawled across, unconscious, blood from his no doubt broken nose sliding down his face, and dripping onto the bright white clean carpet.
Clean like his conscious.
He had no regrets in what he had done.
Mike on the other hand, well, that was a different story.
He didn't know how they found him, how they got out of the locked house, or how they walked the 15 miles from the cabin to here in the under 20 minutes that Hopper had actually been inside the house.
He did know that there was blood dripping down Eleven's nose, just as it was dripping down Mike's hand.
He did know that Ted Wheeler was staring wide eyed down at his stomach, the stomach that was dripping red onto the bright white carpet, butterknife gleaming and catching the light when he moved to pull it out.
It had happened so slow, yet so fast at the same time. Hopper had turned away for a moment to check on Nancy, I mean come on, the poor girl was whimpering in the corner, terrified. He wasn't heartless.
He had kneeled down and was so focused on getting her to talk to him that he didn't hear Ted get up from the broken mess of wood and glass on the floor, and stand up, hovering over him.
He didn't hear him walk slowly towards him, glass shard in hand, his intent most definitely not friendly.
Although, in his defense, he did hear the sound of shattering glass coming from the window, and he turned just in time to see Mike appear suddenly in front of the two men, fury taking over his whole face, a look Hopper had seen too many times in the mirror.
He did see Ted turn and run towards the kid, and he would like to pretend he didn't see when Mike stepped forwards and thrust the butterknife in his hand into his father's stomach.
Yes, he would very much like to pretend he hadn't saw that.
Just like both Mike and Eleven wished they hadn't seen Ted pull the butterknife out of his own stomach, and thrust it into Hopper's, all in one sick, fluent movement, before falling unconscious onto the floor.
Just like they regretted seeing the look of pure panic and pain and fear mirroring their own in Hopper's eyes just before he too fell to the ground, out like a light.
Everyone saw things they regretted that night.
Nancy, seeing her brother stab their father, absolutely overcome with rage.
Mike, seeing the look of pure surprise and betrayal in his father's face when he plunged the knife in.
Eleven, seeing the only father figure she had fall to the ground, not knowing if he was going to live or die.
Hopper, seeing the two children whom he loved most dearest in front of him, their expressions of absolute fear and devastation forever etched into his mind.
Ted, well he did a lot of horrible things, things he didn't regret, so he doesn't deserve an explanation like the others.
But want to know a secret?
Just between me and you, out of the five people just named, only one of them left that house that night.
The only question now, is who?