Redemption Chapter 3: Resolution

Almost a month had passed since that fateful night that had taken a heavy toll on certain residents of Hawkins, Indiana.

Somewhere in the downtown, a young man lifted the shutter of a small store and stepped in through the side gate to take up position behind the counter. He turned around and found his first customer standing on the other side of the counter; she was a woman in her middle ages, with dark brown hair and a deep sorrow masking her graceful face.
"Good morning ma'am. How can I help you today?"
The woman looked up and saw the young man and smile sadly, "No. It's nothing. I have... had a friend who used to work here."
The store clerk thought about something and then asked, "Are you by any chance, Joyce Byers?"
"Yes. I am Joyce," the woman was clearly surprised.
"Just a second ma'am," the clerk bent over to find something and came back up a moment later with a small box. He held the package towards Joyce and spoke, "Found this box in the counter with your name on it."
Joyce received the box and opened the note attached to it, 'Happy Birthday, Sweetheart. I know there's not much poor old Bob can give you but maybe this will help save our memories.'
Joyce ripped the package with shaking hands and found a brand new camcorder inside. She started sniffling, and the clerk got concerned, "Ma'am. Is everything okay?"
"NO," the woman shouted and raised the camera in her hands to throw it down, but her hand never completed the full swing. It was caught by another hand. Joyce turned and saw Hopper standing beside her with a compassionate smile. He spoke softly, "Joyce. You can't erase memories like this. I have tried."
"THEN WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO FUCKING DO?"
Hopper hugged Joyce and whispered, "Wait for better days."

A few hours later, after accompanying Joyce to her home, Hopper walked into a small but reputed cafe called Elma's. It was already getting quite cold outside, and as a result, the cafe was witnessing a surge of customers. Hopper looked at the TV and read the headline; 'The military has completed the total shutdown Hawkin's lab and are building a perimeter around it. The site is still highly toxic and can be lethal to trespassers. Now we will speak to Mr. Murray..."

Things had been moving too quickly in the last few weeks with the lab being shut-down and military leaving the town at the dead of the night after the force commandos deployed inside were chased out by the high toxicity levels, but Hopper knew what was locked inside. He was worried about the gate and also what it meant for both Eleven and her friends. Only one thing that comforted him was that Mike Wheeler was with his daughter. The thought gave him confidence now, but earlier it used to invoke a strange sense of jealousy. He had always expected this day to come even before Sarah was taken from him, but having to face it now, he wasn't sure if he was ready to relinquish the responsibility of his daughter to someone else. A few seconds later, Hopper briskly walked to the table where an old face waited.

Nancy was sitting quietly in her room and going through some old photographs taken more than a year ago. These photos brought out old memories, old but no longer painful. She could see Barb finally smiling from the pictures. It didn't give her the complete closure that she needed, but she could finally look at Barb's parents in their eyes. Nancy Wheeler could finally look at herself in the mirror. Suddenly there was a ruckus outside, and something crashed into her door. Nancy turned around and saw Mike running inside the room at full speed and being followed by Dustin who carried an orange colored tie in her hands.

Mike ran to his sister and shouted, "Help. He wants to put that tie on me."
Dustin breathed and shouted back, "This tie'll look beautiful on you."
"NO," Lucas ran in with a yellow tie, "He's going yellow."
Will was right behind them, he entered and shouted, "I say let's tie him up and deliver to the snowball."
Nancy laughed and shielded her brother from the oncoming attacks. She winked at her brother and spoke, "Not those. I have a different color tie for him."
"WHAT?" Mike stared at his sister and felt the terror as she captured him and dragged him to the cupboard.

A few minutes later Mike found himself sitting on Nancy's bed, wearing the full suit for the Snowball more than six hours before the event.
Dustin measured him from the side and remarked, "Straight to the table, Waiter."
Will and Lucas were giggling nearby. Nancy stifled a laugh and comforted Mike, "Don't listen to them. You look handsome. I'm sure you'll turn a lot of heads tonight."
Dustin smirked, "Eleven heads... or Eleven's head to be precise."
Lucas and Will cooed from behind, and they all burst into laughter as Mike kept turning fifty shades of red around the cheeks.
"Okay guys, go home and get ready, your parents will drop you at the School tonight and Dustin?" Nancy addressed the group that was about to leave the room.
"Yeah?"
"Steve is going to pick you up tonight, something about Fara..."
"Yeah yeah. I know," Dustin interjected and blushed as he walked out, leaving Nancy puzzled for a few seconds. Then she turned to Mike and called him, "Come here. You need to practice."
"Practice? I don't need..." Mike opened his mouth to object, but Nancy shushed him, "You are a pathetic dancer. No way I am letting my brother make a fool out of himself tonight."

Right about then, Hopper was returning to his cabin with a fluttering heart, and he was sure that he was probably experiencing a heart attack. He checked his pocket for the umptieth time to reassure himself that the envelope was really there. That white piece of a seemingly useless document contained the birth certificate of Jane Hopper, erstwhile known as Eleven to the outside world. Hopper had no idea how that old geezer managed to get his hands on this document and feed the data back into federal systems, but as mentioned earlier, he never questioned a gift horse in the mouth. Hopper had been carrying it with him for the last couple of days because he was afraid to let go of it. Then he finally reached home and parked the car outside his doorway.

After a brisk walk, he arrived at the door and proceeded to put a knock on it. But his hand hit air as the door was slowly opened by someone from inside. Hopper took a few reluctant steps and entered the room as the door automatically swung shut. He found Eleven standing in front of the TV with a look of anticipation in her eyes, "Dad?"
Hopper sighed and sat down on the sofa to prepare for the storm, "No, no and no."
He suddenly became wary and counted the number of objects that might get broken tonight. The glass panes, the sofa, the bookshelf, the tables, in fact, looking from Eleven's perspective, the entire house was almost entirely expendable. It was a good idea that he had purchased some second-hand furniture because they won't probably survive the night.

"There are agents in the town, the threat is not over. If we go through this, I'm not sure what will happen to either of you," Hopper was sure that he was making sense, he was also convinced that the bookshelf would be flying out of the window any second now.
But then he looked at the cabinet behind Eleven that contained a newly developed medicine to help her with her hemorrhage and felt relieved, that old geezer sure came handy.
"But you promised," Eleven looked sad instead of furious.
"I'm sorry, kid. Listen, we go through this night, and I'll personally take you to his house. You can spend the night there. Hell, you can spend the week there."
"But I promised, he promised." Eleven understood, but she had made a promise to Mike.
"And I promised that I'll protect both of you, please understand."
"I... He'll be waiting for me," Eleven was pleading, but Hopper wasn't ready to back down.
"I'm sure he'll understand, he wouldn't want you to come."
Hopper was getting a headache. He wished Eleven would explode now so the storm would pass before the Snowball started. But it didn't happen the way he had expected. Instead, Eleven went to her room and slammed the door behind her.

Hopper groaned but felt that today was a good day because nothing broke, except the heart of his teenage daughter. Maybe he could kidnap Mike Wheeler, get a couple of disco lights and set up the Snowball inside the cabin. 'It won't be such a bad idea,' Hopper chuckled at that thought. Suddenly there was a knock at the door that unsettled him. He became tense because he wasn't expecting a visitor at this hour. With some wariness, he went to the door and opened it slowly with a gun cocked in his hand. But then his jaw dropped when he saw the figure standing there with a smile on his face.
The man spoke, "You wouldn't let an old man freeze to death in the cold, would you?"

"Just because I told you where to find us, doesn't mean you get to come uninvited," Hopper declared as Dr. Sam Owens barged his way inside and ran towards the sofa. Hopper was still trying to understand what had happened when the old man reached there and sat down comfortably and spoke, "I'm getting old, but you're getting senile. Where's Eleven?"
"She's inside, and she's safe and secure. She's not bleeding from her nose, so she doesn't need you tonight."
Dr. Owens thought 'Short-sighted people.'
Then he responded in a gentle voice, "When you asked me about one night, I didn't get it initially, but then I thought what was so special about tonight?"
"And?" Hopper was a bit curious.
"And then, I saw this big poster outside the school, Snowball."
"So?" Should Hopper trust this man? He had every reason to and also not to.
"I got the agents called off, they're now searching for Eleven in Atlanta. Apparently, someone tipped them off about a telekinetic girl who is searching for her mother there." Dr. Owens smiled as if he was extremely pleased with himself.
"How did you know about the Snowball?"
"Listen, Jim. I've been doing this far too long. Did you forget that I have a degree in Psychiatry?"
Hopper wasn't amused, he enquired, "Why, why are you doing this?"
"Who did you want to become when you were a child?" Dr. Owen's bent forward to grab a newspaper from the table. For a moment he didn't look like an old geezer anymore.
"Huh?" Jim was taken aback.
"Well, that's a question for you, Mr. Police officer."
"I… that's none of your business!"
Dr. Owens sighed and replied, "I wanted to be a superhero, like Superman. And then, after all these years, I finally met him," he lifted the newspaper to his face, and Hopper saw a eulogy posted at the corner of the front page; a small article that Joyce and Hopper had paid for.

'In remembrance of Bob Newby!' Hopper felt a pain in his heart as he read the title. That brave man was still taking care of them, even from his grave.
"I made a decision that day, Jim. I decided to become a hero. I don't need to fly, I don't need to prowl the streets in the middle of the night. I can help in other ways," Dr. Owens put down the newspaper and turned his head around to stare into Hopper's eyes.
"You want to know why I care? You want to know why I'm doing all this?" Dr. Owens looked like a ghost, his eyes flickered once and became still as it traced a memory from the past.

"My son had a brilliant mind from early childhood." Dr. Owens started digging into a dark memory from the depths of his soul. Hopper suddenly had a sinking feeling in his stomach. He grabbed two beers and sat down on the couch beside the old man.
"I never listened to him Jim, never. He wanted to be free, he wanted to explore the world. But I was too afraid of losing him the same way I had lost his mother. So, I literally locked him in the house. Oh, he had the best teachers, the best food, the best books, the best clothes, but he was still a flightless bird in a golden cage."
Hopper handed Dr. Owens a bottle of beer. It was all making sense now, how that old geezer tried his best to help Will and Eleven but was that the only reason?
"The CIA got to him at an early age. Recruited him straight out of college. Before long he was running ops in Vietnam."
Hopper had a crushing feeling inside his heart as the dreadful forests of a battleground flashed in front of his eyes. 'PTSD, it never leaves you alone, huh?' Hopper thought but didn't respond, he let the old man continue.
"He was doing great, Jim. He was leading his country into victory, then one day they got him. They made an example out of him to teach a lesson to their enemy. They tortured him so much that he was nearly dead," Dr. Owens closed his eyes.

The booming sound of rotors filled the air as two shapes slowly ascended from the grassy plain a few clicks from the attack site back in Vietnam. Sitting inside his battered cabin in Hawkins, Hopper kept staring at the choppers as they slowly faded into the distant horizon over the canopies of the dense forest. He was satisfied with the outcome of the mission, but he never got to know the name of the brilliant CIA operative whom he rescued from his prison all those years ago.

Dr. Owens was still speaking in a trance, "Oliver returned home after six months, but it took six years for him to return to normal. Normal as in he could sleep without screaming in his nightmares. He didn't remember much about what had happened to him, or how he was saved. But he remembered a face, a kind yet angry face, who unshackled him from his prison and returned him to his homeland."
Dr. Owens finally stopped, his eyes were shimmering.

Hopper addressed his fallen comrade in a kind voice, "How's he doing?"
"He's dead. But he died peacefully in his home."
Hopper nodded, "I'm sorry Owens, I didn't know..."
"Forget it, you rescued him from hell, and that's the only thing that matters," Dr. Owens smiled but then became serious, "Jim, do not make the same mistakes I had made. Eleven is a brilliant girl, she's an angel. But she has a ferocious power rummaging inside her soul, waiting patiently to save or end the world. There is no cage that can contain her power," Dr. Owen's voice boomed across the cabin.
"Then what should I do?" Hopper pleaded because he was entirely out of ideas.

Dr. Owens gently inserted his hand inside his pocket and brought out an envelope, then he opened the flap and took out two photographs and laid them on the table side by side. The first photograph was familiar, it was taken on the night Mike Wheeler had returned Hopper's daughter to him. But the second photograph was a relic of the past. It was a grayscale print taken inside a hospital room; in that room, Terry Ives was sitting on a wheelchair holding a baby in her arms. Beside her, a few people were standing and smiling at the camera. Hopper didn't know most of them except two. First, he could recognize Dr. Owens but with light gray hair and a huge grin plastered on his face. And on the other side stood a woman who was vaguely familiar but it was impossible to think that his secretary, Florence was somehow involved with MK-ULTRA back then.

Dr. Owens spoke in a low tone, "The past and the future. We've shielded Teresa and her daughter from their fate for over a decade, and now we've passed the torch to Mike and his friends. Why can't you do the same? Why can't you trust the future?"
Hopper was dumbfounded and couldn't say anything.
"I took care of the Agents tonight, I still have certain connections in the CIA as well as the Pentagon. I'll do what is required to protect her from forces that are within my control."
"But..." Hopper sensed the next sentence coming his way.
"There are forces that you or I cannot control. But maybe someone else can," Dr. Owens tapped his finger on the photograph which showed Mike hugging Eleven and all their friends standing around them and grinning as if they've witnessed a miracle.
Dr. Owens proceeded with his request, "Take her to the Snowball, Jim. She deserves to be with her friends, the ones who would be able to protect her far better from herself than you and I ever could. Do the same thing you had done for my son all those years ago. SET HER FREE!"

Hopper finally gave up. In fact, he was feeling rather pleased with how the night was turning out to be, perhaps he could still keep his promise. He looked at Dr. Owens and thought, 'Empathy, a little bit of compassion could go a long way.'
Then a moment later, Hopper jumped up and started pacing the room. He looked like a tiger that was caged and put up for display in a zoo.

"Jim? Don't you have to take your daughter to Snowball?"
"I forgot to buy her a dress." Hopper's voice was strained, "Good lord, I forgot to buy her a dress."
Dr. Owens grinned and threw a package towards him. Hopper snatched it from the air and felt the weight, it was quite light and soft.
"As I told you, I sometimes impress even myself," Dr. Owens gave a hearty laugh, and Hopper started laughing too.

Continues in Arc IV: Unsheathed

A/N

This is the fic where I played around with Hopper and Dr. Owen's pasts and then linked them together. In fact, I wanted to name this chapter as 'Full Circle,' but that didn't sync with the other titles. Next up is Unsheathed and as you can guess from my recent spree of remodeling, I'm going to take it apart and rewrite it to match my updated writing style.

Unsheathed was one of the most beautiful projects that I have ever conceived and my older writing style didn't do it justice. Even if you were one of the earliest readers of my work, you'd really love what I am going to do with Subject 11 next.

Armageddon will continue in its own pace. I'll be publishing the next chapter the following weekend. Hoping to receive your continued patronage as I start posting new AU fics from March onwards.