Chapter 8: Time in a Bottle

If I could save time in a bottle
The first thing that I'd like to do
Is to save every day
'Til eternity passes away
Just to spend them with you

Hawkins is finally warming up, so Hopper and El take the opportunity to spend some time outside.

As winter began to thaw into an uneasy spring, El's cabin fever worsened considerably. It hadn't been quite as bad last year, when she was still scared enough to stay inside without complaint, but now Hopper came home almost every evening to find her sitting as close to the windows as she could get, peering through a tiny gap in the curtains to the world outside. It didn't help that her friends had started spending more and more time outdoors. To Hopper's eyes, the kids still seemed thrilled when they got to see El, more than content to play board games inside with her even on beautiful spring days, but he could tell that she was starting to worry that they would one day grow bored of house arrest and abandon her so that they could play outside instead.

On one morning at the beginning of April, Hopper woke early to find himself alone in the cabin. The door to El's room was ajar, and when he peaked in, he found her bed neatly made and conspicuously empty.

"El?" he called, heart rate picking up immediately. He turned to check the bathroom, but that door, too, was open, and El was nowhere to be seen. "El!"

Was it possible she'd been taken? Had they found her at last? Surely no one could have broken in overnight; the cabin was too small and he was far too light a sleeper for them to have come and gone unnoticed. Unless he'd been drugged? Instinctively, he ran his hands over his neck, feeling for a bump. There was nothing.

"El!" he called again. "Come on, kid, this isn't funny, where the hell are you—"

He broke off when he realized that the locks on the front door were all undone. For a single moment that felt like it lasted a lifetime, he just stared at them, rooted to the spot. There was no sign of a forced entry. She must have just…left. She must have finally gotten tired of her captivity and run away, just like she had all those months ago, and it was foolish to hope she'd return to him a second time.

Heart in his throat, he threw open the door, not even thinking to put on anything over the t-shirt he'd slept in, or even a pair of shoes. He ran out onto the porch, frantic, and immediately almost tripped over El.

She was sitting on the steps, looking at him over her shoulder, startled by the banging of the door as it bounced against the side of the cabin. She too was barefoot, wearing only thin pajama pants and a t-shirt with a blanket draped over her shoulders.

Hopper felt so dizzy with relief that he had to clutch the porch railing with both hands. He bent his head low, squeezing his eyes shut, and tried to control his breathing.

"Are you…okay?" El asked after a few seconds, a little nervously.

Hopper turned his head to look at her, still leaning on the railing. "What the hell," he growled through clenched teeth, "are you doing out here."

She at least had the good sense to look ashamed, lowering her gaze to her knees before mumbling, "I didn't think you'd wake up."

As if that was any kind of an answer. "You didn't—Jesus, El, how is that better? You think being outside is safer if I'm asleep?"

She just shrugged and drew the blanket tighter around her shoulders.

"Is this what you do every day when I'm at work? Wander around outside without me knowing? Do you have any idea—" he was standing more upright now, propelled toward her by the force of his sudden fury— "how fucking stupid that is?"

El had drawn away from him a bit, perched now on the very edge of the steps. "Not every day," she said hotly, any trace of shame gone as she shifted into anger of her own. She was glaring at him, arms crossed. "Never during the day! Just mornings. Before you wake up."

"Before—" He realized that he'd started yelling somewhere in there and forced the words back, trying to get control of his temper. It would hardly help him make his point about security if he was shouting loudly enough for all of Hawkins to hear. He tried again a little more calmly. "Before I wake up? Do you do this every morning?"

"You usually sleep later," said El. "I…" She looked down at her lap again and muttered, "I'm sorry I scared you."

At that, Hopper felt his anger drain away as quickly as it had come, leaving him feeling exhausted and somewhat raw. He sighed and sat down heavily on the steps beside her. "I'm sorry I yelled."

He watched El picking at a thread in her blanket for awhile before she spoke again. "I need to be outside," she said quietly. "I can't…"

"I know," said Hopper, because he did. And really, he thought, this was his fault. He'd made an effort last spring and summer to take her out as much as he could, just for short walks near the cabin, but he'd been so busy lately that he'd let that fall by the wayside a bit. And with her friends coming around more, it hadn't really occurred to him that even more company couldn't replace her need to be outside. Her need for fresh air and nature was independent from her need for Mike Wheeler and the rest of them. "Look, I'm sorry. I haven't been thinking. I should have been taking you out more."

But if anything, she just looked unhappier at that. "I don't want you to take me out," she said. "I just want to…be out. I want…" She huffed, frustrated at being unable to articulate it, and dropped the thread she'd been pulling on.

Hopper understood, though. "You want independence," he said softly.

She looked up at him. "Independence?"

"Yeah. I-N-D-E-P-E-N-D-E-N-C-E. It means you have freedom, you can go outside or wherever whenever you want to, you don't have to wait for me to take you out on walks like a dog."

El nodded her understanding. "Independence," she repeated, tasting the word. Then she asked him, "When will I have have independence?"

Hopper sighed. Soon, he wanted to say, but that word had become something of a taboo in their household. Then he thought this was as good a time as any to discuss with her some of the things he'd been thinking about. He hadn't wanted to say anything, not before it was all for certain, but she looked so defeated and he thought it would do her good to have a concrete hope to hold onto.

"I told you Doc Owens said a year, remember?" he began.

She nodded, but looked even more upset at the reminder.

"Well, I've been thinking for awhile now—and this is not a promise, okay, I can't guarantee anything—but I've been thinking that maybe we could make it a little less than that. We've talked about you goin' to school, right, when this is all over?"

She didn't answer, but her eyes had widened at the mention of spending less than a year inside. "Yes," she whispered, daring to look a little bit hopeful.

"Well, the Doc and I have talked about it a bit, and we think it might be safe for you to start at the beginning of this year, with the rest of the kids. Instead of waiting till November or December."

Her eyes were now so wide it was a wonder they didn't just fall out of her head. "Really?" she breathed.

"Like I said, it's not a promise," he repeated firmly. "But we're trying, okay? And if works out, that means you'll have a bit of independence starting around August."

"And…if it doesn't work out?"

"Then we'll shoot for later in the fall, just like we planned. Look," he added, when her face fell a little, "I know it's a long time, kid. I wish we could make it even sooner. But we'll get through this, yeah?"

"Yes," said El, and finally smiled, just a tiny bit.

Hopper smiled back at her. "Now come on, let's get some breakfast going."

—

He went out for a walk with her later that morning. It wasn't enough—it wasn't independence—but she seemed content as she picked her way through the thick trees. The chill that had prompted El to bring a blanket outside that morning was entirely gone, and the air was uncharacteristically warm and balmy for early April. Though the sky was mostly blocked out by the trees, what little Hopper could see of it was a clear, piercing blue.

"What's that?" asked El, pointing at a little cluster of yellow flowers that had bloomed in a small clearing.

"That's, uh…" Hopper crouched down to look at them more closely. El did the same, mirroring his movements as she so often did. "Trillium, I think?"

"Trillium," El repeated, gazing wistfully at the flowers. She reached out to stroke a petal.

"You wanna pick some?" he suggested. "We could put them in a vase. Or a glass, anyway."

El looked like she was considering the suggestion carefully, and then shook her head. "They should keep growing."

"Okay." Hopper was certain that the look on his face was disgustingly fond. Then he had an idea. "How about I get you something else to plant at the cabin? Something that'll grow well inside."

El nodded, smiling. Then she stood to keep walking.

They walked for nearly an hour, Hopper paying careful attention that they were making a big loop around the cabin rather than getting too far away from it. Mostly they maintained a comfortable, peaceful silence, except for when El would point at a pretty plant and ask what it was.

"Why don't I find you a book about plants?" he said after the third or fourth time he'd been unable to identify one for her. "Then you can teach me what all these are."

"Yes," she said happily.

Eventually they reached a tiny pond that he'd taken her to a few times before. The water was a little cold for Hopper's taste—and he didn't like the idea of shoving wet feet back into his boots anyway—but El stripped off her socks and shoes and waded in so that the water came to just above her ankles. She turned in place, wiggling her toes against the sandy bottom of the pond, and giggled.

"You gonna catch us some dinner in there?" asked Hopper, laughing when she looked startled at the suggestion. "I'm kidding, kid. I doubt there's any fish in that pond anyway."

El wrinkled her nose. "I don't like fish."

Joyce had tried to make tilapia last time they ate dinner at her house. Though he'd scolded El that night for turning her nose up at it, Hopper had to admit to himself that it had been pretty inedible. He decided to let El believe that all fish were gross, rather than telling her that it was just Joyce's abysmal cooking that had made it so hard to eat.

He let her splash around in the little pond for as long as she wanted, settling on a sturdy-looking log to watch her. When she eventually grew tired of it, he crouched just on the edge and let her hold onto his shoulders so that she could shake her feet dry one at a time and tug her socks and shoes back on without losing her balance. "You ready to head back?" he asked. "I think it's about lunchtime."

She looked a little crestfallen, but nodded. They were quiet again as they headed back to the cabin. Hopper found himself watching her more than the scenery as she looked around, still as amazed as she'd been when they first went out, soaking it all in.

What wouldn't he give, he thought, to let every day be like this one. If he could, he would freeze this morning in time so that they could both live it over and over. There would be no bad men, no looming danger, no traumatic memories or grief or anger. No work responsibilities or fumbling teenage romance. Just him and his daughter, reveling in the innocent pleasure of a beautiful morning.

When they came in sight of the cabin, he felt El's hand find its way into his. He squeezed it instinctively, and then looked down at her questioningly.

"I'm sorry about this morning," she said quietly.

"Hey, no more apologies. I mean, you shouldn't go out without me anymore, but I'm not mad."

She looked up at him. "I don't mean that."

"Oh?" He waited patiently for her to elaborate, and after a pause during which he knew she was trying to put the words together, she did.

"I didn't—when I said I don't want you to take me out. I didn't mean…I do want you to take me out. I just want…not only that."

He smiled down at her. "It's okay, kid. I understand."

"I like going out with you. Like this."

"Yeah? Me too."

"Not independence," she said. "But still good."

Hopper squeezed her hand a little tighter. "Yeah, kid. Real good."