Florence arrived on time despite the snow- unlike her coworkers. This place wasn't exactly a well-oiled machine. Sure, it had its rusty cogs: disorganised filing drawers, chipping paint on every wall, power outages every other week. But without her overseeing things, without her mothering three cops with irregular shaving routines, it wouldn't last a week. So this morning, she shovelled her own damn drive- hip replacement be dammed- and set off three hours after the salt trucks did. There would be too many calls she couldn't miss, people panicking about the amount of snow, possible car accidents- nothing too drastic- this was Hawkins, after all… Then again, you never know.

She unlocked the front door, and stamped herself in, flicking the plastic kettle on before removing her coat and scarf. Opening the store cupboard, she assessed the array of instant coffees cluttering the middle shelf. Why couldn't they just buy one filter coffee? Would it kill them? This was a police station for crying out loud. Then a telephone ring suddenly interrupted her assessment of the state of the spoon drawer. Flo made a face at the brown marks, but hurriedly closed the drawer and rushed to pick the phone up.

"Hello, this is Hawkins pol-"

"-Yeah, hi, is Jim Hopper there?" Florence covered the receiver and sighed, wishing she hadn't rushed quite so much. This damn kid.

"No, he won't be in for another half hour, dear," Flo answered, straining to deliberately keep her tone at a medium volume.

"Could you please get a message to him when you can? Tell him it's Dustin Henderson." Flo half smiled, and Dustin could practically hear her rubbing her wrinkling forehead over the phone when she said-

"Yes, Mr. Henderson, I recognise your voice. Are you calling to report the garbage disposal men, again?"

"No, no I'm not, there's a bomb at my front door." This is what she woke up, with immense backache, at five-thirty to do? Was this child out of his mind? Flo took a blue pen out of the pot, not to write up the call, she just wanted to stab it in her eye.

"A bomb?"

"Yes, a bomb. It was just delivered." Flo clicked the pen and frowned, beginning a design sketch for her new kitchen cabinet on some scrap paper.

"What makes you think-"

"-Just ring the chief, Doris!" She wasn't in time to tell the boy her name was Florence.

He'd… already hung up.

Jim didn't know whether or not she'd been sleeping. He didn't know how quiet to be. All he knew was that if she was asleep, she desperately needed it. So Hopper didn't listen to the radio that morning, the floor became a minefield of creaks he carefully avoided, he took the kettle off the stove before it whistled, and he closed doors without noise, the way you do when you gently release the latch bolt into the strike plate hole. No sound was coming out of her bedroom, and Jim stared at the closed door, chewing his toast slowly.

Then the phone rang. Jim cursed under his breath and bolted up before the second ring.

Not that it mattered. El hadn't slept all night, anyway, and she listened to his whispering over the phone from underneath her duvet covers. The white light poured in through her window, filtering through the pink material pulled over her head. The rising sun lit El's wet, tired face an orange-pink hue. She focused on nothing but that colour lighting the pillowcase beside her- not the fact that it was morning already, or the clumsy sound of Jim trying to be quiet.

"Again? I'm sorry Flo, I'll talk to him, he's just going through a lot right now… yeah… wow… A bomb, huh? No I'm coming in now, there's just a few things I gotta take care of, I should be in around eight… Alright, yup… bye then, bye."

He probably guessed the phone call had woken her because after he'd hung up, he spoke in a normal voice through the oak door of her bedroom.

"Hey, El? I've got to get going. You, uh… you gonna be okay?" Hopper rested his head on her doorpost and listened hard enough to catch a sniff. His chest weighed heavily. So she had been crying all night. Damn. But Jim hid whatever emotion closed up his throat by squeezing out his next words in a forced, friendly kind of way.

"There's ego's in the freezer, I bought some whipped cream and syrup if you feel like getting type 2 diabetes without me… I have my radio, I know you can hack that sort of stuff if you need to… but… I've kept the doors and windows locked, the keys are where we keep them- in the seashell dish by the door, which is where we… keep them… you already knew that." He was rambling and lost his train of thought trying to hear some sign of life. Nothing.

He'd asked her last night. He'd asked her 'what happened' three times: once while he held her hand on the way back to the truck, once pulling up to the outhouse, and once standing on the porch while he struggled to find the right key. Watching her face, it was like she was trying to crack a code, mumbling words, shaking her head. He was about to ask again right now when the door opened.

"Can I come with you?" El sat up in bed. Her nose barely bled from the exertion it took to open the door with her mind. Jim could see the wet, tear spots on her pillow from where he stood, and had to consciously unclench his stomach before he answered.

"Yeah… yeah, 'course you can… I'm going to be on duty, lots of… big important grown-up stuff like paperwork and helping old ladies with their groceries…" El smirked, more at his sarcastic tone than what he was saying. It was always obvious he was trying to make her laugh, his eyes would half-shut, and his bushy eyebrows would raise high on his forehead. Only, she didn't fully understand how that was funny. Helping people sounded pretty heroic to her.

"You sure you won't be bored?" El shook her head. Jim knew she meant it. Whatever it was she saw last night had obviously scared her out of her mind. He planned on bringing that up at some point today.

Not the other thing… that would have to wait another year. Or, who knew- at this rate, maybe he'd be her 'uncle Jim' for time indefinite. That thought made him unexpectedly bitter. Jim called out to wrap up warm and meet him in the car when she was ready. That was all that mattered to him, he reminded himself…

That she was ready.