Chapter 5: The Stranger

"You boys hear me all right in there?"

"Loud and clear, Shepard."

Brenner nodded. "Good luck in there, son."

As the man made his way into the strings of black, gooey matter in the wall, the doctor could not help but feel a little anxious as well – which, to be honest, was completely justified given the nature of the whole situation. The project had seen some significant hindrances, of course: there was the whole problem with the dead kid and Eleven's disappearance, but he was almost certain those issues would solve themselves in the end. No, the nervousness that was currently crawling up his spine was rooted in some deeper concern, perhaps a clear understanding of the borders that they were about to cross. He knew the portal and what it represented. Uncovering the rest of its mysteries was probably just a minor step into the magnificent, unexplored realms that were lying behind it. And yet, he was slightly worried about the consequences as well. After all, he hadn't forgotten what had happened all those years ago… the incident, the… what was the word? Interference. That was right. It didn't matter. Back then, it had just been a matter of mere interference, and they were pretty much on their way to make significant progress again.

The radio crackled as it came to life: "You folks listening? I'm in."

"Good work," Brenner said. "I want you to describe the environment to me, Shepard."

"Well… it's hard to make out anything else but black shit if you ask me, doctor. There's a lot of vines, couple of broken lights… hold on."

"What is it?"

The radio went silent for a bit. Brenner felt his blood starting to pump faster as he repeated, very carefully: "Shepard, what did you see?"

He sighed in relief as Shepard spoke up again: "Thought I saw something. Might've been nothing."

"Go have a look, then. There's only one way to be sure."

"Right. May go dead for a bit, because there's a lot of interference and the terrain isn't exactly helping either –"

They heard him cursing under his breath as he began his journey, the signal occasionally losing its strength as time progressed. Brenner stared into the darkness of the portal. It was nothing, of course, but he still had this eerie premonition… and yet it didn't make sense. Or did it?

"Well, shit." was the sole announcement from the radio.

Brenner's voice was slightly trembling as he asked: "What do you see?"

"It's a box, sir. A dark blue box. It seems to have some signs, but I can't quite make them out as the whole thing is a bit – fuck!"

The scientist's mind went nearly blank as Shepard suddenly screamed for his life and the men at the winch speeded to retract the line from the portal. He considered asking if he was absolutely sure, if he had really seen a box with unreadable signs, but realized it would be pointless. The man was dead. The only physical evidence they needed for that fact was the loose, red stained end of the line as it came rolling back from the portal. His mind wasn't with the men that looked at each other, wondering which damned, incredible force could have taken the poor man's life.

The box.

He'd found a box.

Speaking about ghosts of the past.

Well, at least Cal and Phil didn't burst out in laughter when he carried the woman in – but to say they looked as if it were a normal thing was a bit of a stretch as well.

"I know what you're thinking, and no, I don't care. Now shut up and help me clear the couch."

"Christ, Chief, you sure know how to keep things interesting," Cal said. "Where the hell did you find this lady?"

"Some kids brought her in. Forgot to ask where they found her."

"Uh, is she drunk?"

"What do you think, Cal?" Hopper sneered. "Does she smell like she's drunk?"

"No, but –"

"Then shut up and get to work. Phil, take her legs."

Cal cleared the couch as Phil took the woman's legs in his hands. Immediately, his eyes widened and he muttered: "Jesus, she's burning!"

"I know. Might be a fever. Just lay her gently down – there."

They draped her over the couch, one head resting on one of the arms, legs hanging over the other. After stepping back, Hopper took another chance to have a good look at the woman's features. Her eyes were closed, quite peacefully, but her forehead showed signs of a contorted frown – almost as if she was having a bad dream. He wondered if she was in pain. Her body was almost feverishly warm for sure, but aside from the temperature, there was no indication that she suffered from any kind of illness.

"Take her pulse. I'll go and check with Flo if there are any other missing persons reported."

He left Phil to check her condition and walked over to the front desk, where the old receptionist seemed to be looking into a couple of papers. "Flo, do we have –"

"I already told you, Jim, if the coffee machine isn't working, you're supposed to check the filter. Nine out of ten times you fellas don't seem to even bother maintaining anything around here."

"What?" He frowned. "No, that's not what I meant. I wanted to ask if there are any other persons reported missing."

"Apart from the Byers kid? Not that I know of. Sorry about that, by the way."

"Thank you. But are you sure? Not even from Jackson? Kerley County?"

"Well, I could have another look if you want."

"Please." He turned and went back to the office where the news unfortunately didn't seem to be any better; he was greeted by Phil's pale face behind his fogged glasses. "I– I think she's dead, Chief. No pulse."

"You sure? Have you checked twice?" He walked over to the couch and took the woman's left wrist in his hands. As he pressed his fingers on the little collection of blue veins under the soft skin, he could feel a steady pumping which was – although distant – definitely there.

"Bullshit. She still has a pulse."

"Not when I checked it. Take her right arm."

He did as he was told and found, to his big surprise, that his deputy was indeed right; the pumping he'd felt in her other wrist seemed to be absent here. He switched between both, felt her left wrist again, then her right one, until he felt like his eyebrows were ready to fall off his face. "She has two pulses?"

"Maybe we ain't doing it right," Phil said. "Did you check her temperature, Chief? She feels like she's burning up from the inside,"

"Yeah, I felt it. She doesn't seem to have a fever though. Maybe a bit of rest will do some wonders." He looked up. "Weren't you fellas supposed to go to the school? Look into the case of that missing teenager?"

"C'mon, she's not missing." Cal commented. "You know what those teens are like, Chief. A whole lotta fuzz about nothing. She'll probably be hanging out at her boyfriend's place or something."

"Well, that sure doesn't sound like anything miss Holland's told me. And if you don't mind, I have just about enough of people going missing in this place. Get off your asses, and get to that school."

"'Right, 'right," Cal sighed. "No need to be snappy. You sure you don't need any help with that lady?"

"Out."

Well, that settled it. The two deputies casted each other a slight frown and let out a collective grunt as they turned around and walked out of the small, cluttered office. They passed Flo in the doorway, apologizing as they attempted to squeezed through. Flo muttered something about "having some damn manners" and walked up to Hopper. "No other reports, Chief. If she's got some kind of identification on her, I guess I could call some folks and find out where she's from –"

"No, she doesn't seem to have anything on her. I'll ask her once she wakes up. Could you call a doctor?"

"Sure. Oh, and by the way, Gary's waiting for you as well."

Hopper looked up. In all the suddenness of the moment, he'd nearly forgotten to question the coroner about the Byers kid. "Oh, yeah, thanks. You can send him in."

"Will do."

As Flo left the office, Hopper could not help but keep staring at the woman's motionless body. This job sure was getting a lot more interesting.

"Got a visitor, Chief?" Gary asked, casting an interested glance at the woman as he entered the office.

"It's nothing. Please, have a seat, Gary."

The old coroner did was he was asked and let out a gentle sigh as he patted his knees. He seemed to be in good shape. At least one thing that wasn't either batshit crazy or unnervingly unusual, Hopper thought as he sat down.

"So, if you don't mind, I'd like you to tell me about these troopers that brought in Will."

"Troopers?" Gary raised his eyebrows. "Well, uh, it was about six of 'em, I'd say."

"All Staties?"

"Yes sir. Never seen that many troopers come with a body before."

Hopper frowned. The coroner was right; it all just didn't seem to make any sense. Why such a heavy escort? After all, it was not like the kid had any significant relevance he was aware of; unless there was some kind of secret importance to him that he didn't know about… But what the hell could be so important about a dead kid?

Unless he ain't dead, that is.

"They told you that they were gonna take care of the autopsy, huh?"

Gary nodded. "Yeah. Claimed jurisdiction. Kicked me out. The whole official government-bullshit. Well, it all seemed a bit over the top to me, considering…"

"Considering what?"

He shrugged. "Considering this was Will Byers and not John F. Kennedy. I would've understood it if he had been the son of a local big shot, but that ain't quite true, is it? His mother's separated, right?"

"Yeah."

"Hm. Poor lady. The world can be unforgiving sometimes, if you know what I'm saying."

"Amen." Hopper rubbed his eyes.

"Say, Chief, you don't reckon there's something going on, do you?"

"Well, I'm not– I'm not sure. That's what I'm looking into. Anyway, thanks for stopping by, Gary. I won't take up anymore of your time."

"Sure thing." The old coroner got up and stretched his back. As he turned around, he could not help but have another look at the rather… remarkably clothed woman. "Who's the lady, by the way?"

"Not a clue. Some tippler we're trying to get identification from. You don't happen to recognize the face, do you?"

Gary rubbed his chin as he studied her features. For a second, Hopper had a slight bit of hope that he would indeed recognize the woman, but the coroner just shook his head. "I wouldn't have a clue. Sorry, Chief."

"That's alright. Take care."

"Good day sir."

As he waddled out of the room, the police chief was yet again left alone with the nearly lifeless woman on the couch. He stared at her, although he didn't register any of her looks this time. His mind had drifted off to elsewhere, to the boy they had found in the water, Joyce's screams as she struggled to accept the fact that her little boy was gone. Well, that was what he thought. Maybe he'd been a little too quick in his dismissal of her claims. Sure, it could all be a big imagination fed by his own horrific memories resurfacing from the depths of his mind, but there was something… strange about the boy that just didn't want to let him go. And although his deputies and possibly anyone else with a right state of mind would surely label him as 'crazy' if he would dare to come out with this, he was anxiously sure it wasn't just a gut feeling.

And that, my friends, was a certainty.

He sat down again and started rubbing his temples. Maybe trying to recollect his thoughts would help a bit. After that, he could go and try to find out more about these remarkably 'dedicated' troopers.

Until Flo proposed it, it didn't occur to him that a bit of medication could perhaps do something about the infernal temperature. He was about to get up and leave when she came strolling in and placed a strip of Tylenol on his desk. "There. Phil told me she had some kind of fever. Maybe this'll help a bit."

"Uh, yeah, maybe," Hopper said, shaking his head to alleviate the dizziness. "Flo, you don't happen to know how to feed drugs to an unconscious person, do you?"

That was a question she didn't even bother to answer. She just gave him a venomous glance, shook her head and went back to the reception. He considered to throw her a comment or two, something about that he wasn't a fucking doctor and his only relevant experience had been getting pills out of junkies instead of in, but decided not to. After all, she was part of the rare amount of people who still seemed to be using their heads around here. Popping a pill out of the strip, he sighed and took her chin in one of his calloused palms. When he forced some space between her lips, it almost seemed like some kind of gold dust was flowing out, but he ignored it and placed the pill on her tongue. Well, triggering her swallow reflex shouldn't be too hard. If you thought about it, it was just the opposite of getting a kid to spit out the toy he was choking on. Her grabbed her chin and forced her mouth shut, just enough to hear a slight clicking sound in the depth of her throat. That should do it. Relieved and content, he sat back, and prepared to go out and look for the trooper…

…which he probably would have done if the effect wasn't so damn immediate. The woman started to cough and convulse, pressing her hands on her stomach as she rolled on her side. It took her just a couple of antagonizing seconds before she managed to cough up the pill. The white capsule landed on the desk, surprisingly intact.

"Jesus Christ!" Hopper shouted as he ran back to the cough and helped her to sit up. She was still clutching at her throat, but the convulsing had stopped and her breathing seemed to be normal.

"Are you okay? Lady, can you hear me?"

"Tiny contractions… still bubblin' inside… are you my mummy?"

"Excuse me?"

"Sorry, bit of a callback." She turned to look at him. Now that she was no longer quiet, Hopper found himself surprised at how energetic was. "Oh, hello there. What exactly did you do to me?"

He nearly struggled to get any coherent words out of his mouth as he answered: "Uh, well, I just gave you some aspirin. Figured it might relieve the fever a bit."

"Aspirin?" Her face wrinkled in disgust. "Oh dear, never do that again, please. You could've ended up killin' me. Glad my heart kicked in again, just in time."

Now he was simply lost for words as she stood up and started to walk around the office, rambling on about "mighty fine new arteries!" and other bullshit he couldn't make out. Well, this was certainly turning out to be an interesting morning. He hadn't expect a drunk, but a British drunk who also appeared to be a lunatic was enough to make him question his sanity.

"Alright, that should do it. That nap did me a whole lot of good, much appreciated. I'll be off th – "

"Hold on a minute," Hopper finally said as he got up. He took a few steps towards the door, in case the woman would attempt to make a run for it – she certainly seemed like someone who wouldn't have any trouble doing a full marathon. "There's a couple of questions for you to answer first, lady."

"Really? Excitin'. Really excitin'. What's on your mind, chap?"

"Well, you can start off by telling me your name."

"Oh, not again." The woman let out a deep sigh as her shoulders fell. "Look, I'm gettin' there, but it still isn't exactly clear yet."

"What, you mean you've forgotten it?"

"Ya. I think. Honestly, I'll remember it soon, it's precisely on the tip of my… my…"

She placed a finger on her tongue and her eyes widened at the touch of it. "Wow, what is that?"

"You got to be kidding me."

"No, really, what is it? It feels all mushy and… and soft? Almost like a… a…"

"A tongue?" Hopper said, sounding unimpressed. The woman smiled. "Tongue! Smart boy, biology. Now, I'd love to stay and chat, but there's somethin' –"

"Oh no, you're going nowhere," the police chief said as he grabbed hold of her. She was too surprised to do anything, so he had no trouble pushing her back and sitting her down on the couch. He pulled his own chair along as well and sat down in front of her, letting out a grunt as she curiously studied his movements.

"Now then, have you finally calmed down?"

She just nodded.

"Okay. That's good. Next question: are you alright? Do you need a doctor?" He made sure to draw out the words slowly and carefully. It could be too slow to her liking, but he didn't care. He had her attention now and he'd make sure he wasn't going to lose it.

"No but I would very much like to –"

"Quiet. Just to be sure, I'm gonna have one come over anyway. Now, again, I'm gonna need a name, so I'd like you to do your best and try to remember it."

He waited patiently as the woman's face seemed to go through a couple of phases: first confused, then a bit relieved, only to transform in a full, absent frown again. At last, she just shrugged. "Jane Smith."

"Are you serious?"

"You did ask for a name, didn't you? I can come up with a thousand other ones if you –"

"No, no, never mind. Just… just, don't mention it." He shook his head. Trying to make some sense of the woman's words was as near possible as lifting an elephant with your bare hands.

"Look, I don't know who you are or what's happened to you, but I just want to make sure you're okay. I'm not sure if you're aware of what's been happening in this town lately, but it's far from healthy. You turning up here completely confused and disheveled isn't particularly helping with that."

"I understand."

"Well, I doubt –"

"Look, big lad – what's your name? Grumpy bear?"

"Jim Hopper," he scoffed. "Police Chief Jim Hopper, in case you're wondering."

"Right then. Jim, I'm terribly sorry if this all upsets you. I really am. This is all probably more scary to me than it is to you, if that gives you some relief. But I want to assure you that our priorities aren't that different."

"And what makes you so sure of that?"

"Your face does."

"Sure." He was trying to keep his cool, but the woman's sudden shift from laughable wackiness to almost menacing sobriety made him feel uneasy, to say the least. Right now, he noticed, she wasn't even making the slightest attempt at a joke.

"I know the expression of a worried man. Seen far too many mirrors in my life, unfortunately. There's somethin' deeply botherin' you and I wouldn't be surprised if it's the same thing I'm concerned about."

He wanted to believe she was just telling bullshit right now. He really wanted to. But it didn't make sense. Why did she know he was pondering about something? Why was she suddenly so calm and composed after basically being all over the place? And for the love of God, why had the aspirin nearly killed her?

"I appreciate your concern, but I hope you can agree with me when I say it's hard to trust someone we just found on the streets."

"Of course. But I don't need your trust. Not yet, at least. I just need a chance to prove myself. Everything else can come after that."

Hopper sighed. He cradled his head in one of his hands as he considered it all again, trying to understand this strange person and possibility determining whether he could trust her or not.

"Look," the woman said, leaning forward. "In under five minutes, I've made you question your prejudices about me, got you to tell me your name, and uncovered what keeps you awake at night. That's not bad for a lunatic, is it?"

"I didn't say you were –"

"No, but you were thinkin' it. I wouldn't blame you, honestly. Right now I'm more of a stranger to myself than I am to you."

"You don't make sense."

"Ya, I'm used to that." The woman offered him a soft grin. "But I am serious. Tryin' to. I want to help."

He frowned. "I wouldn't even know how you could be of any use, considering you can't even remember your own name and you don't seem to have anything on you –"

"Eh, yeah… minor inconvenience. Wouldn't be a problem if I had my TARDIS or at least my sonic, but –"

"Your what?"

"Oh, uh, never mind." she said, rather hastily. "But, err, I'm not on my own. Was not, actually."

"You mean you were with the boys that brought you in? Because they told me they found you somewhere and brought you right here."

"Well, they're not lyin'. Maybe just stretched the last part a bit. Just, uh, give me a slight hint of a direction and I'll be off. I won't bother you anymore. Not until I need to, that is."

He let the woman's words sink in as he considered his options. Sure, there was a risk of sending a crazy woman out to the streets, but it wasn't like this town wasn't full of them already. Besides, he still got that weird itch about her. She seemed impressively sincere.

"Alright then," he finally sighed. "You're lucky I got too much on my mind right now, so I suppose I could let you go. But not right now. You seem to be okay from the outside, but just to be sure, I'm gonna have you checked by a doctor. That okay with you?"

"I could really use a doctor, now you've brought it up… just wish it was a bit more clearer why."

"Right," he said, ignoring the reply. "You just stay here. I'm gonna check with Flo to see if they've arrived yet. Don't move and don't touch anything, alright?"

She didn't answer. He didn't bother to wait and went to the reception to speak with Flo. Flo asked what the hell he needed this time. He answered that he just wanted to know when the doctor would arrive, and Flo told him she didn't have the slightest clue: depended on whether Dave would be good enough to hurry up and get off his lazy ass.

When he returned to the office, though, there was a rather unwelcome surprise waiting for him: the couch was empty. It took him just a few seconds to notice the open window. He speeded towards it and leaned out as he shouted: "Hey! Where the hell do you think you're going?"

The woman, now running in the middle of the street, turned around: "Wherever they need me! Pleasure to meet you, Jim, you're a nice lad! And if you happen to find a blue box lyin' around, uh… just don't touch it, okay?"

She was already sprinting again before he had the chance to answer. Shaking his head, he sighed and slammed the window shut.

It sure was an interesting morning.