Steve wasn't sure how he managed to drive home. He'd just gotten one of those weird ice pack things and a bandage from an EMT when he remembered the key that was stashed in the wheel well of his car. He hadn't been lying to Dustin when he said the Russians took his keys, it's just that his brains had been too scrambled to recall that he had another set. It didn't matter in the end though. The day was saved, everyone lived, and now they were all home with their families. Steve was home as well, just alone.

He stumbled up his driveway, cursing the fact that he hadn't remembered to turn any outside lights on before his most recent escapades. It might be helpful with obscuring his movements from any nosy neighbors, but it didn't help his already shitty visibility. His vision had never fully cleared since his interaction with the Russians. And that's what he was calling it, since even thinking the word "torture" made him break out in a cold sweat.

Last year had been bad, from the demodogs, to possessed Will, to Billy, but he'd survived it. Technically he'd survived this as well, but it didn't feel like it yet. This was going to stick with him for a while. All he wanted to do was forget this ever happened, but that didn't seem very likely.

There was a part of Steve that wanted to rush back to where everyone was, just for the company. After Will had woken up and El had saved the day, they all stayed in the Byers house for the night, passing out on whatever cushion they could find. Even after everything, it was one of the best nights Steve could remember. His body was a giant ball of pain and he'd never felt more anxious, but being able to turn over and see another person there had been comforting. Even though he barely knew some of them, there was a connection tying them together. But now they'd all gone their separate ways. Everyone had someone. Except him.

Steve braced his chest as best he could as he bent down to retrieve the key hidden away under a flower pot next to the front door. It wasn't the smartest place to have it, but he was endlessly grateful for it now. Busting a window to get in was a last resort, even after just sleeping in his car for the night. His bed might be big and empty, but it was better than his other options.

It took a few tries to get the key into the lock. Somehow there were three holes, instead of just one. And for some reason, they were all moving. Steve forced down a thick swallow as the motion made him sick. Throwing up with Robin, while ending up a bonding experience, had sucked. Throwing up sucked in general, but after the punches to his chest earlier, it was agony. He probably should've gotten an ice pack for that too, but Steve wanted to escape the medics as soon as possible. Other people needed their help more than he did.

Steve let out a quiet bark of triumph as he finally got the door open. Things were starting to look up for him. That was, until he actually stepped over the threshold of his house and immediately went down. Steve smacked his head against the floor and that was it.

Hopper couldn't believe they'd all made it. He felt guilty after he realized the kids were in so much danger while he'd been running off to different states, but somehow they'd handled themselves. It made him feel terrible that they had so much experience doing so, but he couldn't change that. Now they could focus on moving forward with the most recent threat gone.

He and El were at Joyce's house, since his cabin wasn't in the best shape. Usually it was the Byers house that bore the brunt of the fight, but evidently it was his turn now. That was fine though. As long as he still had his girl, nothing else mattered.

Eleven was currently curled up on the couch, getting some much deserved rest. Her powers were still a bit wonky, but they were slowly coming back. She'd shoved a table out of their way in the cabin, so that was something. Part of him wished they would stay gone for good, but that was just him being selfish. If El wanted her powers back, he wasn't going to stop her. He'd done the overbearing and controlling thing and it just wasn't worth it.

Hopper took another sip of water as he sat at Joyce's kitchen table, watching over the house. Sleep wasn't going to come for him for a while, so instead of tossing and turning, he was doing this. A harder drink would've been nice, but it probably wasn't the best idea after everything. That Russian packed a punch and he was still concussed from their first fight. But none of that mattered, since he won in the end. The good guys won.

Hopper stayed in that spot as the sun rose, signaling the beginning of a new day in Hawkins. If only people knew what really went down. Sometimes he missed the ignorance and the town where nothing happened. Government cover ups were the new normal. But each time something happened, more and more people were added into the fold. He hoped that the people in control didn't get sick of it all one day and try to blow the town off the map.

"Chief Hopper, come in," a voice from the radio said, crackling to life suddenly. He groaned, snatching up the receiver and turning down the volume a bit, hoping it didn't wake the whole house. He'd brought the thing since Joyce's phone was broken and it was the responsible thing to do, but now he was regretting it.

"I told you I wasn't dealing with anything for a few days," Hopper grumbled. After pretending to work the mall disaster, he'd left things to his deputies. They were in the dark about the truth, so it was easier for them to handle things without having to fake it.

"We got a call, but everyone else is still wrapped up in everything from last night."

"Let whoever it is deal with whatever it is themselves." He knew he sounded unreasonable, but he was exhausted. Sue him for wanting people to take responsibility for themselves.

"Chief," Flo said, in that chastising way she had. She was really the one running things, she just let everyone pretend it was him.

"Give me the details," Hopper sighed.

"Apparently Marla Appleberry's neighbor across the street left their front door open all night."

"And?"

"And she thinks something is wrong."

"Well, can't she go check?"

"Marla is 83 years old."

"So? If she's too old to do anything, she's old enough to know how to mind her business."

"Chief."

"Whose house is it?" It could just be someone who was in a rush or carelessness. This didn't sound like something that was a high priority. Flo rattled off an address that he could recognize was in the nice part of town, but that was it. "A name?"

"It's the Harrington's house." That got his attention.

"I'm on my way," Hopper said immediately, pushing himself out of his chair. He crept down to Joyce's room, hesitating outside of it. They were still dancing around each other, so it felt weird to intrude on her bedroom like this. But he couldn't just take off without saying anything. He softly knocked on her door, rocking back on his heels as he heard shuffling noises inside.

"Hop?" Joyce mumbled, peeking her head out of the door as she rubbed her eyes.

"Sorry to wake you."

"It's fine. I needed to get up anyways," she waved off, looking up at him and noticing his pinched expression. "Is everything alright?"

"Flo radioed that there might be something going on at the Harrington kid's house. I gotta go check it out."

"Is he okay?"

"I'm sure he is, but I figured I'd check to get Flo off my back. Shouldn't be gone longer than an hour. I can even grab some food for everyone on my way back," Hopper offered.

"Are his parents home? Maybe you should bring him back too. No one should be alone after last night," Joyce said worriedly. Even after almost losing her own kids, she was worried about someone else's. Just another thing he loved about her. Hopper cleared his throat, shaking that thought away. Not the time.

"I'll ask him when I see him. While I'm gone could you…" Hopper trailed off, gesturing to where El was still asleep.

"I'll keep an eye on her."

"Thanks. I'll be back before you know it." He gave Joyce one last nod of appreciation, then made his way out of the house. Thankfully he'd commandeered one of his deputy's cruisers the night before, so he had a way to get to the boy's house.

He hadn't had much interaction with Harrington. He was just kind of there at the end of every battle. Hopper had seen him last night looking a bit rough, but that was par for the course. The kid's face was bruised more often than it wasn't, it seemed.

Once he got to his house and made sure he was okay, Hopper was going to ream him out for his lack of security. Even if he lived in the nice part of town, he knew better than to leave his door open all night. That was asking for trouble and not from your run of the mill burglar. Harrington knew the kinds of things that were out there and if he was going to be hanging around the kids at all, he was going to have to learn to be more careful.

Hopper realized he might've been a bit harsh with his judgements when he finally parked in front of the house. There was a car in the driveway that was halfway in the yard. That definitely wasn't a good sign. He climbed out of the car and carefully made his way to the open front door, keeping an eye out for anything unexpected. Hopper thought all the Russians had been taken care of, but he couldn't be too sure.

"Shit!" Hopper hissed as soon as he stepped up onto the porch and saw a pair of feet just inside the door. He rushed over, kneeling down next to an unmoving Steve Harrington. The kid didn't look much different than he had the night before, besides the bruises on his face getting a bit more time to settle into his skin. But obviously something was seriously wrong.

"Harrington, can you hear me?" Hopper demanded, shoving his fingers against the boy's neck. His heart was racing, which was worrying, but it was better than nothing. What really put Hopper on edge was how hot his skin was. He knew all too well how dangerous a fever could be, especially if left untreated for too long. The thought of Steve laying here languishing all night made him sick.

"Steve. Open your eyes, kid," Hopper said, patting him lightly on the cheek. Steve let out a low moan, but didn't show any signs of waking up. This was a waste of time. Hopper didn't bother calling for an ambulance, since they were probably all busy with the aftermath of last night. He was going to take the kid to the hospital himself.

Hopper scooped a limp Steve up in his arms, holding him the same way he'd held El before. He'd heard no signs of life in the house, so he assumed that Steve's parents weren't home. They'd deal with that later. For now, the kid was his responsibility.

He closed the door behind them as he quickly made his way back to the car. Marla Appleberry was getting a fruit basket for being a nosy neighbor and Flo was getting a raise for not letting Hopper be a lazy shit. Who knows what would've happened to Steve otherwise? He laid the kid along the backseat, then booked it, flipping on the lights and sirens. Hopper hoped that all the sounds would get some sort of reaction out of the kid, but there was nothing. Steve never moved.