Hi again! I hope everyone is alright! As always I want to thank all of you that still care for this fic and of course, my beta-reader AnnieRavenclaw707 for been so kind :)

I hope you enjoy this chapter, if not, let me know anyway. ;P

Chapter 28: The lone ranger

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It certainly wasn't what he expected. The return to Hawkins had been terrible, or rather, utterly disappointing. Hopper had hoped in vain that he might get his life back, or at least a small piece of it, but that hope disappeared in less than twenty-four hours.

As soon as he set foot in that damn town, all his dreams of returning to a stable, quiet, and familiar place, had suddenly vanished like breath in a mirror. That place was neither stable after losing his job, nor was it quiet now that he knew there was a killer on the loose. And his unfortunate visit to the police station, the place where he had spent the most hours in recent years, seemed like a different planet, everything was unfamiliar. That thought frustrated him because he felt that he had no place left to take refuge and amend his life, and what was worse, he had dragged his new family into that hole.

And then there was the other thing. Hopper heard voices in the background, but he couldn't stop staring at how Mike and El were holding hands. They seemed glued with Loctite. That wasn't healthy, not at all. It was obsessive! Too much for his sanity. Joyce was damn right. Going back to Hawkins had been a complete mistake.

"And this is how we'll get Mrs. Hammond's report," Dustin stated, finishing the explanation. The silence made Hopper shift his gaze from Mike and El to the rest of the group. The boys were nodding with self-sufficiency as if that explanation were to reveal the secret formula of eternal youth.

He had not been paying attention to the plan. As soon as he saw that they began to explain it with those lego toys, his mind went to the clouds, very far away. His only connection to the earth was feeling Joyce's presence next to him.

"Could you repeat it?" He found himself saying.

"Seriously? Have the Russians left you deaf or something?" Steve asked, annoyed.

Hopper exhaled heavily. What was he thinking to have agreed to even listen to them? God, he was so exhausted. The lack of sleep, mixed with his apathy towards the boys and the physical exhaustion from... ehh... well... He smirked at the thought of what he had just done with Joyce.

"Are you even paying attention to us?" El raised her eyebrow, noticing his absent-mindedness.

"Yes, yes... sure. I'm just a bit tired. That's all, kid." He reassured her, trying to pay more attention this time.

Steve picked up all the legos toys. "Ok. Hartman always goes out for breakfast at ten o'clock. So, once he leaves, Dustin and I will pretend to fight on the street, in front of the police station. The cops at the door are going to separate us. Then, Mike and El enter into the station. Mike distracts Flo, and El sneaks inside, looking for the report. If you tell us where the police store the records, she could go straight for it, and steal it. Lucas and Max will remain outside to guard the door, just in case the policemen return. If they do, they will have to delay them as long as they can. It's a perfect plan."

Again everyone looked at each other with smart faces.

Hopper opened his mouth to speak, but Joyce stepped forward. "It's the stupidest thing I've heard in a long time," She replied, unnerved.

"It's a good plan. And I can do it," El protested stubbornly.

"No, it's not. We are talking about stealing from a police station for Heaven's sake!" Joyce asserted. What did they have in their heads? Sawdust? "Hopper, tell them something!" She got up from the sofa and stared at the man, trying to get some support from him. Had they all lost their minds?

"Joyce is right. It's stupid." Hop said with a nod, as the kids began to protest.

"Thank you," Joyce murmured, knowing that at least Hopper hadn't lost his mind too.

"No one is going to do any of this, ok? There are other ways to get that report. I'll take care of it." He stated.

"What?!" The woman blurted, annoyed. "No, no, no way. Nobody is going to do anything! What do you think is this? Murder, she wrote? Even Jessica Fletcher would know this is stupid!"

Hopper looked at her, confused. She was mad, and he didn't understand why. Also, he didn't like the Jessica Fletcher show. Magnum P.I. was better. Oh yeah, that incredible car... Joyce waved her arms exasperated, and stormed out of the house, in need of fresh air.

The boys were silent, and El approached her father. "I'm going with you." She told, determined.

Hop gave her a half-smile. In a way, it was lovely that she tried to protect him so much. He wasn't going to deny it.

"No one is going anywhere," He sighed.

El stared at him, a bit upset. "But you said you would help us, that you would take care of it."

"Yes." He admitted. "But why go to the file when the file can come to us?"

They all looked at him puzzled.

Joyce drew in the last puff of her nearly burned-out cigar when she heard the front door of the house open again, with heavy steps.

"I thought you only smoked when you were worried," Hopper pointed out from behind, watching her closely. He was concerned about her recent stance. Everyone was a little uneasy about the latest events, but she did not tend to lose her temper like that. After all, it was his role to act as a protective bear, not the other way around. Damn, he had even hidden El in a forest for a year for fear that something would happen to her.

"And shouldn't I be?" Joyce asked, pulling out the butt of the cigarette disdainfully. "Please tell me you are not going to join that stupid paranoid conspiracy." She reproached, almost spitting out the words.

Hopper snorted. "Joyce, the kids just want to see the file. There is nothing wrong with that. When they see that it's indeed an unfortunate robbery that went wrong and not a 'paranoid conspiracy' as you call it, they will rest easy and probably look for another, healthier hobby." He moved closer to her. "I've already called to ask a small favor to a partner from the police station to get it. So no one is going to do anything stupid." He spoke reassuringly.

Her eyes were doubtful, although she said nothing, her feet just went to the porch railing to look at the garden. It was lovely, and she hadn't even stopped to glance at it. They had to be enjoying the new house, putting their things together, preparing a good celebration, and there was nothing like that. Instead, they were arguing, talking about murder, and not having a moment of respite. Could they never be able to enjoy anything?

She felt Hopper behind her, and soon his arms wrapped around her belly protectively. "Joyce ..." He mumbled almost like a plea, resting his chin on her shoulder.

She just wanted to show her disagreement, but feeling his breath against her neck completely disarmed her. It was absurd to pretend to be mad at him. She wasn't. How could she be after what they had shared? Finally, she gave in and cocked her head to rest it on his.

"It's not just the kids, is it? You also want to see the damn report." She told sulkily.

Hopper chuckled. It was evident that he was like an open book to her. "You were right. Returning to Hawkins has been discouraging." He recognized, sighing. "I just want to make sure there's nothing else to worry about, ok? That's all."

His knuckles knocked three times on the door. It was somewhat ironic. Hopper thought he had only been to that house once in his life, and now he was returning to Hawkins, and the first house he visited was that. He shook his head in disbelief, nothing he had planned for his return was going well. To be honest, nothing was logical lately.

The door opened, and Flo studied him from head to toe like a farmer inspecting an animal before buying it. He was tempted to show his teeth like an old horse.

"Hi Flo," Hopper spoke softly, knowing she was upset. The truth is that she was never happy, but perhaps less now than ever. He was beginning to worry about the fact that she said nothing.

She put her hands on her waist but pulled away to let him pass. Without further thought he entered the house, it was freezing outside.

"Wow, huh? I didn't remember how beautiful your house is, you know?" He told, trying to be nice. That was getting awkward. He even tried to smile.

"Uhuh," Was her response. Without seeing it coming, Hopper felt a sharp slap to the nape of his neck, not very strong but enough to sting.

"Ouch! What the hell?" He protested, instinctively putting his hand to his neck to massage it. "Did you just smack me?" He asked incredulously.

"Yes. It's what you do with young children when they are stupid. Didn't your mother teach you that?" Flo replied, annoyed. "Six months Hopper. Six months thinking that you were dead, and now you come as if nothing happened?"

Hopper was going to explain, but Flo raised her index finger threateningly so he fell silent.

"And not satisfied with coming as if nothing, do you ask for favors?"

"Flo ..."

"Shh….!" She ordered him to be silent. "Not just any favor. But a crime. Steal a report from the police station! For heaven's sake," She stated, whining the last part.

Hopper snorted uneasily, sometimes Florence was even worse than his mother.

"Came on, Flo. I wouldn't have asked you if I didn't know you could do it with one finger." Hopper pointed out. "You're the person who knows the police station best. Not just any corner of the place but all the people in it. No one notices you, and you can move wherever you want. You're probably the person that knows everything in there, Flo. You always were."

Flo snorted. "You hit yourself in the head, Hop? Was that what happened to you? You should remember that sucking me up doesn't work." She added sarcastically.

They stared at each other for a few seconds until Flo smiled, giving him the go-ahead. "Come in, sit down," She said, pointing to the sofa in her living room. "Do you want anything to drink?"

"Uhhh," Before he could reply, Flo had already disappeared on the way to the kitchen.

Hopper sat up and realized that the report was on the coffee table in front of him. "Flo, I love you," He mumbled, opening the file and starting to study it. At first, the report seemed very common, but when he saw the photocopied photos of the crime scene, his guts turned.

It was not the first time he had seen such a thing, but he found it very sad to know that such a thing had happened at Hawkins. The unfortunate Mrs. Hammond was young, too young to have bled to death in the middle of the street. One of the photos caught his eye. It was a close-up shot of the bullet wound that had killed her, straight to the head. Too precise for a robbery with a struggle.

Hop had been so engrossed in those images, that he was startled to hear Flo in front of him.

"So?" She asked.

"So what?"

"Well. You were a homicide detective in New York. You've probably seen similar cases. What do you think?"

"Yes, well, uh ... It's still too early to say anything. I have to study it a little more thoroughly." And I need to make some calls, he thought.

"Oh, come on, Hopper. I'm not an idiot," Flo explained, with less diplomacy. "You have put 'the face'. It's evident that you have seen something."

"The face?" Hopper replied, confused.

"Yes, the face. 'Hey, I just solved it, but I'm so cretinous and self-sufficient that I take the car keys and go alone without counting on anyone as if I were the fucking lone ranger'."

Hopper blinked a few times incredulously. It was clear that his poker face had lost faculties. It was beginning to be crystal clear and not just with Joyce. Should he start worrying?

"I don't make that face. And what the hell does that face look like?" He tried uselessly to defend himself.

Flo crossed her arms in disapproval. "Come on. You know you can trust us, both me and Powell, right?"

Hop slammed the report shut. "Of course, I trust you. But as I said, I have to study it further. " He said, getting up from the table, trying to end the conversation in a hurry. "I will let you know if there is any news." He stated, excusing himself.

"Hopper," Flo called him in such an authoritative tone that he stopped walking to look at her. "If you need help, ask us." She mentioned, very seriously.

"Ok?" He replied with annoyance, almost rolling his eyes.

"Hey, boy. Don't talk to me like that. Your first funeral was very boring. Don't make me go for a second one, or I swear I'll be the one to hit you with the shovel on the head."

"I'll keep it in mind." He replied sarcastically as he hurried from the house straight to the car.

Immediately, he started the engine without being able to get those unfortunate images out of his head. It had only taken him a single glance to know that the boys were right. This was not an unfortunate robbery, it could be something else.

To be continued.

I know that I'm making this a bit longer than expected, but we're getting there... I promise! Let me know what do you think :)