Chapter 2: Tomorrow's Gonna Be a Better Day

And tomorrow's gonna be a brighter day
There's gonna be some changes
Tomorrow's gonna be a brighter day
This time you can believe me
No more cryin' in your lonely room
And no more empty nights
'Cause tomorrow mornin' everything will turn out right

El can't be done hiding, not yet, but Hopper is determined not to repeat his mistakes from the past year.

El was quiet the next morning at breakfast. There was nothing unusual in that—they ate in silence more often than not, neither being much interested in small talk—but this felt different. She was stabbing at her Eggos dejectedly and seemed far more tense and withdrawn than she should have, considering she'd just seen her friends and saved the world hardly thirty hours ago. For most of the meal Hopper left her alone, hoping she would maybe decide to open up to him without prodding, but if he was being honest with himself he knew that wouldn't happen.

Finally, after a particularly vicious poke of her fork, he set down his coffee and sighed. "Come on, kid, out with it."

She glowered at her plate for a moment but when she looked up at him, he was surprised to find her eyes clouded not with anger or annoyance but with something like sadness. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, apparently struggling to find the words, before saying quietly, "I can't do it again."

Hopper frowned. "Do what?"

"Hide." She swallowed hard. "I have to see them."

Hopper regarded her carefully, unsure what to say. Just yesterday she'd been so afraid of being found, but of course she wouldn't just willingly disappear again, now that her friends knew she was alive. And he could hardly ask her to, after all that had happened. She couldn't handle being cooped up with him indefinitely, and to be honest, neither could he. But it still wasn't safe.

"El…" he started, not having any idea how he planned to finish that sentence.

"They know anyway," she pleaded. "And that man will help me."

"Doc Owens?" She nodded. "I know, kid, he will, but that'll take time, okay?"

"How long?"

She said it so desperately that he swore he could feel his heart breaking. He forced himself to meet her eyes, which were shining suddenly with unshed tears. He hated himself for the answer he knew he had to give her. "I don't know."

El looked away and he could see her biting her lip, struggling to control herself. Surely it was a sign of progress, that she wasn't screaming at him and sending things flying the way she had a few days ago, but he thought he might prefer the tantrums to this quiet devastation.

He glanced at his watch and swore quietly. "Listen," he said, feeling like the biggest asshole on the planet, "I have to go to work. And the don't-be-stupid rules are still in effect." She huffed, crossing her arms, and he could tell that underneath the show of anger she was really about to cry.

Never mind, he wanted to tell her, I'll take the day off, and we can eat Eggos and go for a walk and talk about it, okay? But he'd already stayed home with her yesterday, and been stuck in the lab the day before, and he couldn't miss another day without making Callahan and Powell worried enough to come snooping around his house. And for them to figure out he didn't live there anymore was the last thing he needed.

So he just reached out and ruffled her hair, trying to ignore the ache in his chest when it didn't make her smile. "We'll figure something out," he told her. "I promise."

As he put on his coat and left, he wondered how much longer his promises would hold any weight with her. He wondered if she'd already stopped believing them.

—

Work was always dull, but it was especially agonizing now, after the events of the past few days. Hopper had hoped that the boring routine would be relaxing, even comforting, but instead he found himself looking at his watch every few minutes, desperate to get back home to El. He wasn't even sure what he was going to say to her, but he hated thinking of her alone at the cabin. And he would be lying if he said he wasn't a little worried that she would run off again, even after her tearful apology.

Finally at four-fifteen (four-one-five, said a voice in his head) he couldn't take it any longer. He gathered up some paperwork to finish at home and crept out of his office, hoping against hope that Flo wouldn't be at her desk. No such luck. "Leaving already, Hop?" she called, disapprovingly.

He held up the stack of paperwork. "I'll get it done, Flo."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "You'd better. And don't think you can get out of here this early every day, now."

There was nothing unusual in her voice, nothing that betrayed any suspicion, but still Hopper worried that she thought something was going on. His reputation as a drunken slacker certainly helped, but it was possible that even showing up today hadn't been enough to make up for being so erratic lately.

El wasn't expecting him this early, so she wouldn't have put out TV dinners for them yet. That was, if she wasn't too angry with him to do it at all. With that in mind, Hopper decided to pick up some food on the way home. Maybe, just maybe, with a hamburger and fries and a strawberry milkshake, she would perk up a little bit.

It occurred to him, as he knocked on the cabin door thirty minutes later, that bribing her with junk food was perhaps not the greatest parenting strategy. And he'd been doing it a lot lately, with the Halloween candy and the triple-decker Eggo extravaganza and now with the slightly greasy to-go bag in his hand. But it was all he could think of to make her solitary life just a little more bearable.

He wasn't surprised to find her lying on the sofa, staring at the TV without really seeming to see it. She didn't even look up when he came in, betrayed no excitement or even surprise to see him home so early.

"Hey, kid," he said, depositing the bag on the kitchen table. "I brought you your favorite."

"Not hungry," she said from the couch, without moving.

He sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. He thought about being strict, making her come to the table and eat. Instead he just put her milkshake in the freezer so it wouldn't melt and set the rest of the bag in the oven, hoping it wouldn't cool too quickly. Then he went and sat down on the coffee table, facing her.

"I can't see," she muttered, craning her neck to look at the TV screen.

"You weren't really watching it anyway."

"Yes I was," she argued, but without any energy. She dropped her head back to the pillow and glared at him.

Hopper forced himself not to shrink under her glare, taking out a cigarette and lighting it as casually as he could.

"I was thinking," he said after a few puffs of smoke. "Today at work. About…what you said this morning."

She still didn't move, but he thought he saw a vague flicker of something in her eyes. Interest. Maybe even hope.

"And you're right. You can't stay locked up forever." He paused, drumming his fingers on his knee. "Things aren't safe yet. I don't know when they will be. But I meant it, okay? We're gonna figure it out."

El sat up. "You always say that," she accused. But her voice wobbled a little on the next sentence. "But nothing ever changes."

He held up a hand. "There will be changes. Hear me out, kid. You still can't go out alone. Or in public. But I think…" He hesitated. He'd thought a lot about this at work today, and he still wasn't certain it was a good idea, but he forced himself to say it. "I think maybe you can go to the Byers' house sometimes. See your friends there."

El sat up a little straighter, but still looked wary. "Maybe?"

"Definitely," Hopper corrected himself reluctantly. "You will be able to go to the Byers' house. Not every day, maybe not even every week, but enough. And maybe—maybe—some of your friends could come here, sometimes."

El's eyes had lit up as soon as he said definitely, and at his last sentence, she couldn't stop the smile that crept onto her face. "Thank you," she whispered.

"Don't thank me," said Hopper. He sighed. "You should be allowed to see your friends. But," he added, in the sternest voice he could muster, "we are not going to be stupid about it. No going outside with them, and especially not in town, and—"

"I know," said El earnestly.

"Good." He took a deep breath. "And there's gonna be some changes around here too."

El just watched him, looking a little concerned at his serious tone.

"Like…" Unconsciously, he fiddled with the hair-tie on his wrist. He didn't even notice until he realized El was looking at it. He forced himself to put his hands down. "I know I've messed up a lot. Being late, and yelling, and…I can't promise things are always gonna be perfect, kid. But I'm gonna try to be better, okay?"

She smiled a little. "Me too."

He reached forward and ruffled her hair, and this time it made her grin. "Now, come on. That strawberry milkshake isn't gonna drink itself."