A/N: Content Warnings: Fear, Language, Disturbing Content, Death.
"And you think this missing boy may have crawled through here?"
Hopper shined a flashlight down the drainpipe that he, Powell, Callahan, and one of the employees of Hawkins Lab were standing in front of. The opposite end to the drainpipe was where they had found the scrap of a hospital gown while searching for Will Byers the day before.
Callahan and the suited government man stood behind Hopper, watching as the man crouched low and stared down the pipe. Powell leaned over to get a good look inside too.
"Well, that was the idea," Hopper replied. His light shined brightly around the empty tunnel, revealing nothing of note.
"Yeah, I just don't see how that'd be possible," The suited man said impatiently. "We've got over a hundred cameras. Every square inch covered, plus all my guys. No one breaks in here. Certainly not some kid."
Hopper glanced at a nearby tree, looking up at a white pole next to it with a security camera on top. The device was pointed out at the tunnel. "Those cameras, you keep the tapes?" He asked. The suited man turned to see the camera in question then turned back and stared at the three officers.
Inside Hawkins Lab, the man led Hopper, Powell, and Callahan through a set of double doors. Hopper followed along, taking the opportunity to get a good look around. They passed by several scientists going about their work before, most bizarrely of all, they passed a section of corridor blocked off by a large hazmat tarp. The police chief made note of the two armed soldiers guarding the entrance.
"If you don't mind me asking, what do you guys do in here?" Hopper gestured at the plastic screen.
"You're asking the wrong guy," The suited man replied.
"Staying one step ahead of the Russians?"
"I expect," the man said dismissively. "Something like that."
"Who's in charge here?" Hopper questioned, holding his hat in his hand and continuing down the hall.
"That'd be Dr. Brenner."
"And he builds the space lasers?" Officer Callahan interrupted.
The suited man frowned and looked back at the officer over his shoulder. "Space lasers?"
"Ignore him," Hopper replied.
The suited man led them to a security room. On a television screen Hopper, Powell, and Callahan viewed a garbled black and white security video. A pair of AV technicians sat before them, ordered to rewind the videos to specified times at their request.
Hopper stared at the monitor carefully, looking for any sigh of movement. "This is the night of the sixth and seventh we're seeing here?"
"That's correct," the suited man nodded.
The image displayed the drainpipe with zero activity around it. This continued for a moment, causing the chief to purse his lips. The tape ended and Hopper raised his eyes, looking at the guide and back to the technicians. "Is that it?" He asked
The suited man just smirked. "Like I said, we would have seen him."
With nothing else to see, the three police officers strolled back to Hopper's truck, their guide leaving them at the building's entrance.
As they made their way across the parking lot, Hopper turned to Powell and Callahan. "Night of the seventh we had a search party out for Will. You remember anything about that night?"
"Mmm, not much to remember," Callahan shrugged. "Called it off."
"'Cause of the storm," Powell added, showing how much more competent he was than his partner.
"Yeah, a lot of rain that night," Hopper nodded. "You see any rain on that tape?" Callahan and Powell walked around to the other side of the truck as he paused by the driver's door and turned to stare back at the building, drawing Powell's attention.
"What are you thinking?" Powell aked.
"I don't know." Hopper turned back to look at his two officers. "But they're lying." He joined the men in the car and back out, tires screeching as they drove away.
Steve had been daydreaming about Nancy all morning. Dreaming about how she had looked… how she had felt. Thinking about how he had felt. Hopefully they would get to have a repeat soon. And hopefully he wouldn't just pass out afterwards like a total loser. That way he could really show her why he was called 'King Steve'. God, it sounded lame in his head now too. He would have to slug Tommy for ruining that nickname for him.
"Dude, I asked you a question."
He looked up at said freckled friend to see Tommy holding a little container of applesauce in front of him. He raised his eyebrow in question and Tommy sighed, waving the container around.
"Can you open this?" His friend asked. "I can never get the damn thing to come off." Tommy always asked him to open his cups.
Sometimes Steve felt like he was their parent and not their friend. Especially times like these, when they sat alone at their usual table.
Occasionally, during school lunch, Steve and his friends would sit with the guys from gym class. Or the basketball team. Or the swim team, which he was a part of and who would be starting their current swim season in just a few weeks. But most times they sat at the table in the middle of the cafeteria by themselves, meaning most of the time he was left to feel like their parent.
"I think the pool gave me frostbite," Carol muttered. He snatched the plastic cup and chuckled bitterly as she threw her foot onto the table and pulled up her pant leg.
Steve glanced at her ankle and curled his lip, ripping the foil lid off the applesauce. "That looks like a rash to me." He may not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but even he knew people couldn't get frostbite from warm water. He turned his attention back to his best friend, handing the cup over. "Tommy, for the last time you have to pull the lid by the tab."
"That's why science doesn't make any damn sense to me," Tommy replied through a mouthful of food, eyes on his girlfriend's rash and thus ignoring Steve's outstretched hand.
"No, I swear.' Carol gestured at her ankle, redirecting the conversation back to the mark. "Look at this. It's totally frostbite."
Steve looked between her and Tommy with judgmental eyes as Nancy joined them, sitting next to him. Sighing, he shook the applesauce container dramatically, finally getting his friend's attention.
Tommy leaned forward and grabbed the cup. "Oh thanks, man," the freckled teen said before looking at Carol again and taking a bite of the applesauce. "It's a heated pool."
"Well, if it's not frostbite, then what is it?"
Steve was willing to bet Nancy didn't think a single person in his friend group had a brain, himself included. But at least he was good looking. He glanced back at Carol's ankle as he took a bite of his own lunch, gagging reflexively the moment he made eye contact. Yeah, that was enough of that.
"Ugh, I don't care what it is, it's disgusting!" He hated feet, especially ones with rashes. "Get it off the table. We're eating here."
"Ew!" Tommy joked and attempted to poke the rash with his spoon, making Carol flinch. She slapped his hand away and he chuckled before putting the spoon back in his mouth. Steve froze with his own spoon suspended in his right hand and stared at his freckled friend, jaw dropping.
Nancy, who had remained quiet from the moment she sat down, finally spoke. "Hey, Tommy? When you left, did you see Barb?"
"What?" Tommy flashed her a confused look, as if he didn't know who that was.
"Barbara," Nancy replied. "She's not here today."
"I seriously have no idea who you're talking about." Tommy glanced at Steve and snorted with laughter, soon being joined by Carol.
God, his friends were pricks. Steve shook his head and glared across the table. "Come on, don't be an ass, man." He picked at his food a bit and added, "Did ya - did you see her leave last night or not?"
Tommy settled down, looking at him seriously. "No. She was gone when we left."
"Probably couldn't stand listening to all that moaning," Carol joked. Tommy cackled as she began to moan softly, growing louder when her boyfriend started rocking in his seat and grunting along with her. "Oh, Steve. Oh Steve, oh Steve, oh Steve!"
Okay, he could admit it… they were funny sometimes. Carol finished loudly and Tommy banged on the table. People stared at them from around the cafeteria, causing Nancy to look down into her lap, her cheeks burning red. Steve rubbed the corner of his mouth, trying to hide his amusement when Tommy and Carol erupted into laughter again.
It had been a pretty accurate impression.
Noticing that Nancy was visibly upset, he stopped smiling and turned to her. "Listen...I'm sure she's fine. She's probably just… she's probably just, like, skipping or something." Steve nodded assuringly and patted her thigh, but she didn't seem convinced.
"Yeah. Yeah probably," Nancy mumbled, turning to look away.
Tommy took the moment of distraction to reach forward and tickle his face, making him sneeze. Carol recoiled back as some of the spray hit the piece of meatloaf she was about to eat. Tommy looked between the them in shock, before clapping and bursting into yet another round of laughter.
"Ew!" Carol whined, setting her food back down. Steve chuckled and stabbed his own meatloaf with a fork before putting it on her plate.
As he leaned back, he noticed Nancy staring off out of the corner of his eye. He followed her gaze and spotted Byers standing in the hallway, staring back at her. Instead of mentioning that, he decided it was a good time to ask Nancy what he had been waiting to ask her.
"So... there's a game later tonight," Steve began.
Mike looked down and spotted a sizable rock on the ground, leaning over to grab it. Upon close examination, it seemed like it might be a good fit.
Lucas had insisted that they use their recess period to search for rocks on the school lawn that could serve as ammo for the wrist rocket. Personally, he thought the idea was stupid but once Dustin had co-signed it he was forced to agree.
"How about this one?" He asked, walking over and holding the stone out to Dustin.
His friend took it and turned it over. "Too big for the sling." Dustin tossed it down and continued scouring the ground.
Who would have known it would be so hard to find a freaking rock? Mike bent back over and looked through the grass once more.
"So, do you think Eleven was born with her powers, like the X-men or do you think she acquired them like...like Green Lantern?" Dustin asked.
Mike picked up another rock and quickly discarded it, ignoring the question. Why did Dustin think she was a comic book character?
"She's not a superhero," Lucas replied, as if the question had been for him. "She's a weirdo."
Mike huffed and threw his arms in the air. "Why does that matter? The X-men are weirdos." He was really getting tired of Lucas taking digs at her.
"If you love her so much, why don't you marry her?" Lucas asked, leaning closer to him. He ignored the heat and tension creeping up, instead shooting Lucas a glare.
"What are you talking about?"
Lucas' eyebrows raised and he flashed him an unimpressed look. "Mike, seriously?"
"What?"
"You look at her all like..." Lucas placed his hands over his heart and started shuffling toward him with baby steps while saying in a sweet, mocking voice, "Hi El! El! El! El, I love you so much!" He threw himself onto Mike in a hug, then got down on one knee while holding his arm. "Would you marry me?"
Mike felt his cheeks burn and snatched his arm away. "Shut up, Lucas," he snapped. Eleven was just a cool new friend.
"Yeah, shut up, Lucas." The trio tensed, turning around to see Troy and James approaching them. "What are you losers doing back here?"
Mike looked between the two bullies and pursed his lips, attempting to stay calm.
"Probably looking for their missing friend," James said cruelly.
Dustin immediately looked up from where he was staring at the ground and narrowed his eyes. "That's not funny," he replied. "It's serious. He's in danger."
"I hate to break it to you, Toothless, but he's not in danger. He's dead." Troy had always been a little bastard. Mike quickly realized that apparently the apple didn't fall far from the tree as the bully added, "That's what my dad says. He said he was probably killed by some other queer, like that high school kid." Troy and James began to laugh, clearly proud of themselves.
"Come on." Mike leaned behind Dustin and quietly addressed his two friends. "Just ignore them."
He turned to walk past the bullies but Troy stuck out his foot and tripped him, sending him stumbling to the ground. He busted his chin hard on a stone hidden in the grass, sending an intense pain shooting through his skull.
"Watch where you're going, Frogface," Troy snickered, high-fixing his companion. Dustin and Lucas helped Mike back to his feet and watched as the bullies stalked off.
"You all right?" Lucas asked, scanning his chin.
"Yeah," Mike nodded and touched his new wound, flinching slightly when another jolt of pain should through him. He couldn't believe he had face-planted in front of his friends. Especially when he was supposed to be the leader.
Dustin sighed and looked down at the ground again, suddenly going still. "Hey," he said, kneeling down and picking up a stone. "How about this one?" He held the rock out to Mike, patting his shoulder.
Mike took the stone from his friend, turning it over and examining it closely. "Yeah," he smiled. This rock would do nicely.
"Yeah," Dustin smiled back.
"Yeah, this is it," he repeated, already feeling better.
"Oh, yeah," Lucas grinned widely, nodding his head and taking hold of the rock. "Yeah, this is the monster killer!" Mike laughed as Lucas held it up in the air. "Whoo!"
There was something about a photo lab that just made Jonathan feel completely in his element. The red, dim lighting, the tranquility, the quiet. It was his happy place.
He had Photography after lunch and had rushed to the room to use it before other students had a chance to occupy the space first. After all, he had a sizable amount of photos to work on and he was running on limited time. The pictures he had already developed had been clipped to a string and were now in the process of drying. They showed the partying friends from the night before, teenagers goofing off and in the process of undressing.
Jonathan slid a blank sheet of white photo paper into a tray of solution, the warm, red light illuminating his work station. Staring down at the sheet, he watched an image form before his eyes. He gripped it and hung it on the line too, examining the contents.
This particular photo showed Nancy staring out of Harrington's bedroom window, an expression of uncertainty on her face. Looking at it sent a rush of emotion through him.
The door to the room abruptly opened, and Jonathan quickly turned to see who had interrupted him. Surprised and caught off guard, he let out a sharp, "Oh, hey!"
The strange boy from the day before, the one who had asked for a flyer, said nothing as he entered and closed the door behind himself. Jonathan turned and managed to snag a photo of Barb sitting on the diving board down of the line. He moved to grab the rest of the damning evidence, but was stopped by the intruder.
"Wait," the boy said forcefully.
He didn't know why, but his arm froze mid-reach, leaving the photos pinned where they hung on display for anyone to see. The quiet boy walked forward and began to study the different photos.
"You have a good eye for composition."
Jonathan blushed, partly because he wasn't used to getting compliments from strangers and partly because he was extremely uncomfortable. The boy continued to examine his work, slowing moving his gaze from picture to picture.
"There is a lot that these images say. The loudest message, I think being…" The quiet teen turned to him, resting his eyes on his face and leaving him with a feeling like he had just been caught with his pants down. "Your subjects do not know they are being captured."
Dropping his hand, he drew his shoulders tight and started to breathe a bit heavier. He knew that these photos made him look like he was some kind crazy stalker. But it wasn't about that.
"Look, it's not what you think-" Jonathan tried to defend himself, but the boy cut him off.
"You may have noticed that I am not all there myself."
Oh. Well that was a relief. Maybe that was the other boy's way of saying 'I'm not going to judge you'. He felt his body relax and his breathing returned to normal. He glanced back to the door before looking at the intruder again, trailing his eyes down to the boy's hand and frowning at what he saw.
"Did-did you need to use the room or something?" Jonathan asked sharply.
There wasn't a camera on the strange teen's person. This was a red room... it was pretty difficult to develop film when the guy had no film to develop in the first place. So why was he here?
"No, nothing like that," the boy replied distantly. That explained the lack of a camera, but it didn't explain the reason he was standing there in the first place.
"Okay." Jonathan put his hands in his pockets, beginning to fidget in place. "Then what do you want?"
He hadn't meant for his question to sound as rude as it had, but the stress of his pictures being displayed there in the open was getting to him. If someone saw them, someone who wasn't notorious for being mute, it could get ugly. And the guy had clearly been following him if he knew he was in here.
The blond looked at him blankly, as if staring through his head. "I came to ask how the search for your little brother has progressed."
If that had been a lie, it was a damn good one, because his face hadn't budged even a fraction of an inch. And he was great at spotting liars.
"Uh, not too great. We haven't found anything new." Jonathan gestured with one hand to the row of photos. "I was actually trying to find a lead last night. That's how I stumbled on this… gathering, I guess?" He had no idea what possessed him to actually tell the truth, but he did.
"Hmm." The blond's eyes flickered away from him and to the pictures on the wall. The weird boy leaned forward, glancing around the photos of the pool in particular. He pulled back after a brief moment, almost with what Jonathan thought was disappointment on his face. "I am sorry to hear that."
Before he could ask what the guy was looking for, another student abruptly walked in. One who actually had a camera in her hands.
"Hey." The red-headed girl greeted with a smile before raising her eyebrows at the two of them, likely caught off guard by what she saw.
Jonathan hurriedly pulled the rest of the images down from the line. Unlike his awkward companion, he hadn't realized that it was already too late, the girl's smile fading when she noticed the pictures. As soon as the last one was in his bag, he pushed past the girl and fled.
She turned to look at the other boy still standing in the room with her, seeing him staring at her intensely. The girl shifted her focus over to the empty line where the clips were now swinging wildly.
"Those pictures, was that-" She started to ask, but when she turned around again to finish, she realized she was now in the room alone.
After visiting the lab, Police Chief Hopper and Officer Powell eventually found themselves at Hawkins Library, sitting in front of their microfiche machines and researching articles about Hawkins Laboratory.
Hopper skimmed through one titled, 'Hawkins Lab Blocks Inquiry'. While printing articles with potential leads, he found another titled, 'Alleged Experiments, Abuse'. He skimmed that one, reading:
Terry Ives' legal case against embattled research scientist Dr. Martin Brenner suffered another setback today when the district attorney's office formally refused to press criminal charges against Brenner, his fellow researchers, assistants, or the projects sponsors, citing lack of evidence.
Another report featured an image of several patients and a tall doctor labeled as Brenner. Hopper skimmed through another article with the heading, 'Dr. Martin Brenner Named in Lawsuit':
Senior researcher Doctor Martin Brenner and seven other staff researchers have been named in a new lawsuit filed today on behalf of former federal research study participant, Terry Ives. Dr. Brenner's attorney in conjunction with the Department of Energy has asked the circuit court to seal the details of the lawsuit until the attorney general's office can determine that no federal…
Hopper skipped ahead to the part of the article that featured the nature of the lawsuit, reading:
...her newborn daughter for scientific research. Following an investigation, the district attorney has already declined to press criminal kidnapping charges against the research facility and staff, citing lack of evidence. Dr. Brenner's attorney called Ms. Ives' allegations baseless and tragic, citing Dr. Brenner's excellent reputation, his twenty recent peer-reviewed scientific papers…
He next found an article with an image of a young woman with the title 'Terry Ives Suing' and a quote underneath, 'They took my daughter.' That one read:
After the district attorney's office declined to press criminal charges citing lack of evidence, local resident Terry Ives is not giving up her search for justice for herself and her daughter, and this morning filed a lawsuit against research scientist Dr. Martin Brenner and his staff.
Ms. Ives suit seeks unspecified damages against Dr. Brenner and his facility, alleging physical abuse, sleep deprivation, malnourishment, and kidnapping.
A puzzled sigh escaped Hopper's chest. He had never heard of another missing child in Hawkins, yet the articles stated this woman had been local. In fact, the closest thing to a child going missing that he could recall happened a few years prior. The same year that old woman had killed herself, now that he thought about it. Turned out that the child hadn't been missing though, just lost. Spacing out, he let his mind wander back to that day.
Hopper had been driving late to the office from having breakfast when he suddenly spotted a young boy walking across the street. The boy had looked as though he couldn't have been more than twelve, which was very strange considering that most twelve years should have been at school at that time of day.
He wasn't exactly a dedicated student in his youth, but the morning had been very uneventful and Hopper was bored out of his mind. And while helping a kid wouldn't be very exciting work, Hopper decided that he would rather deal with that than deal with Flo lecturing him on what he had eaten for breakfast. She had been on his case since the holidays when she saw that he had packed on a few pounds.
Hopper pulled up by the curb next to the boy and jumped out. The young boy stopped and turned to stare at him. He was surprised that the boy didn't even seem frightened, since he was a big guy, and a stranger at that.
"Hey, kid. What are you doing out here? Don't you have school or something?" Hopper approached him slowly, not wanting the potentially on-edge child to run. But the boy didn't run. He just looked up at him with empty eyes and tilted his head. After a few seconds of no response, Hopper tried again. "Are you lost?"
"Yes," the boy said. Hopper could have almost mistaken him for a girl, what with how his voice sounded and how he looked.
"Lost, huh?" Reaching a hand to the kid, Hopper tried to put on as nice of a face as he could muster. "Well, come on then. Let's get you to school."
It wasn't unusual for kids to get lost around the time they first started walking to school. Hopper himself had managed to get turned around on the way in one morning when he was about that same age. His father had nearly broken his backside when he found him a few hours later.
The boy cautiously took his hand, a bracelet on the child's left wrist making a jingling sound. That wasn't what Hopper had intended by holding his hand out. It was more of a 'come to me' gesture. But maybe the kid was scared and just didn't look it.
The kid's eyes went a bit foggy, making Hopper frown, and he followed the man back to the truck. He was going to assume the kid was a bit simple in the head, based on the awkwardness and the blank expression. Hopper reached down and lifted him up into the passenger seat before heading to the other side of the car.
When Hopper slid back into his place behind the wheel, the kid reached over and grabbed his hand again. He turned and looked at the small blond boy incredulously. Twelve was a bit old for hand holding, but… if he really was simple… maybe it was best to humor him. Hopper left his hand there, the boy holding tight and turning to stare vacantly out the window. The man suddenly felt rather warm, prompting him to turn the heat down a bit.
He had tried to talk to the kid on the way to Hawkins Middle School, but the boy never said another word to him. When they arrived at the front desk, Hopper pushed the boy gently forward. The woman behind the counter stared at the two of them in confusion.
"Can I help you, Lieutenant?" She looked down at the boy in front of him before looking back at Hopper.
"Found this kid wandering around town. Said he got lost on the way to school, figured I'd drop him off," Hopper said.
"I'm afraid he doesn't -" She looked down again, locking eyes with the young boy. Hopper began to grow impatient, when he suddenly noticed a look of recognition pass across her face. "Oh! Yes, it's your first day, how silly of me to forget. Welcome to Hawkins, - - - - , I hope you love it here."
The name hadn't rung a bell to Hopper. " - - - -? We don't have any - - - - in Hawkins," he replied.
The woman kindly gestured for the boy to have a seat, turning her smile to Hopper. "Yes, they just moved to town before Christmas."
Hopper looked at the boy, frowning. He had been kind of out of it lately, especially after the divorce. And what happened to Sarah. Maybe he had just missed the news. The little boy turned and looked at him.
"Makes sense. Alright, I'm gonna head out. Sorry for the trouble." Hopper nodded at the woman and glanced back to the young boy to find him now sitting and staring absently into space. "You take care of yourself, kid."
And with that he headed back to his truck. He had meant to do some research on the kid's family but the thought had disappeared from his mind as soon as he stepped out of the office.
Hopper snapped out of his memory. For the life of him, he could not remember the kid's name. When he tried to focus on it, nothing came. It was like it had been erased from his memory. But he had started drinking around that time… so maybe that was why.
Either way, the kid had made quite a reputation for himself around town. Not the good kind either. He wasn't really one for town gossip though, and every time he had seen the boy walking the streets after that day he seemed to be minding his own business well enough.
Hopper shook his head and returned to the task at hand, searching for anything that might help him find Joyce's missing son.
A/N: This is one of the only, if not the only, times where a non main character will have a main character written section in this story (ie: Hopper.) But for the sake of where I'm going, it was necessary.
I couldn't decide how to add a redacted name into a memory or thought, so I went with what Edgar Allen Poe did. It will all make sense later.
Until our stars next align!