(October 28th, 1984)
Camille Hopper wakes to find a pair of curious brown eyes staring at her from beside her bed, her heart practically jumping into her throat as she scrambles to sit upright. A glance at the clock on the bedside table shows it is 7:15 in the morning. It is Sunday.
And Eleven is standing beside Cami's bed, grinning, despite the older girl's obvious shock, a soft laugh escaping when Cami finally manages to speak.
"Jesus, what the he—um—what's wrong?"
"Hop made Eggos."
"And you're actually waiting for me to wake up, rather than digging in?"
"Today is Sunday," Eleven states, her tone carrying enough seriousness that Cami has to do everything in her power to suppress an amused grin, "Sunday, we eat as a family. It's—"
"A rule."
"Yes."
"Well since I save all my rule-breaking for the work week," Cami trails off, smiling softly at Eleven's obviously confused expression, and reaching out a hand to run over the brown curls that have started to replace the close-cropped hair that the younger girl sported when they first met, "Go on and get out there, kid. Save me an Eggo or two before Dad eats them all, 'kay?"
"Okay."
As Eleven turns and slips through the door of the room to head back to the cabin's small kitchen, Camille catches sight of the blue hairband secured around the younger girl's wrist. And even in spite of the small flare of remembered grief that tugs at her heart, she pushes the blankets away from her legs and swings them over the edge of the bed, standing and heading to her dresser to throw her hair into a sloppy bun before heading out of the room, herself.
A last minute decision has her fumbling in one of her dresser drawers for the twin to Eleven's impromptu bracelet, and Camille slips it onto her own wrist despite the slight sting of tears at the corners of her eyes, deciding that she has put off the inevitable for long enough.
Her father had given Eleven the hair tie that he used to wear around his own wrist a few months after they had all moved into the old cabin in the woods that they now call home. And although Cami hadn't been prepared to admit to such a thing out loud, a part of the barrier she had erected not long after Sara died—the barrier that she worked so tirelessly to keep between her and her dad—had started to crack as a result.
It was almost as though Eleven had somehow become a catalyst to repairing something Cami honestly never thought she would have again, and even though she still fought her father tooth and nail on certain things, she would be a liar to pretend that things weren't markedly better than what they were.
Her dad giving Eleven one of Sara's old hair tie was his way of welcoming the girl into their family, such as it was, and even though Cami hadn't been ready to wear her own at the time, now seemed as good a time as any to try.
Taking a steadying breath, Camille heads for the door of her bedroom and flicks off the light switch on the way, her gaze zeroing in on where Eleven is seated at the small table near the kitchen just as her father's gaze lifts to meet her own.
"Nice bedhead, kid."
"Thank you."
"Bed head?" Eleven repeats, a small furrow forming between her eyebrows as she glances at Camille, the older girl's almost mischievous grin prompting Hopper to step in to explain.
"Yeah. It's um—when you wake up in the morning, and your hair's a mess because of how you slept."
"Is that today's word of the day?"
"Might be," Hopper shrugs, taking in the expression of apparent satisfaction on his daughter's face, and shaking his head as he watches Cami reach over the table to ruffle Eleven's short curls not long after.
"Just wait til this gets longer. You'll have a bedhead yourself."
Eleven's nose wrinkles almost comically in response to Cami's confident assurance, and she reaches up to swat at the hand that is tousling her hair, her lips curling into a faint smile as the older girl manages to swipe the syrup bottle from its place in front of her as a result. She is aware of Hopper's laughter. Of the soft sound of Cami's own amusement rising to meet it.
The younger girl is prepared to turn her attention back to her own Eggos, since everyone is officially seated at the table, ready to eat, but a familiar blue band on Cami's wrist catches her attention before she can look away.
"This—it is like mine."
"It is," Cami confirms, the words coming out in a faint whisper as she abandons her own breakfast to run a finger over the blue band secured around her wrist, "Can't wear pigtails with just one hair tie."
"Pigtails?"
"Maybe Cami can give you a demonstration, huh?" Hopper suggests, glancing at the familiar blue hair tie around his daughter's wrist, while she tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear.
"And look like Pippi Longstocking? No way, Dad. I'll scar El for life."
"Who is—Pippi Longstocking?"
"Maybe we can get you some of the books from the library," Hopper suggests, taking in Eleven's almost immediately eager expression, before she replies.
"Today?"
"I don't know, kid—"
"I can go," Cami offers, pausing mid-bite of a bit of waffle, aware of her father's gaze on her, and lifting a brow before going on, "You're the one who said we needed groceries, too. Two birds, one stone?"
"This your way of finding an excuse to go see that boy again?" Hopper questions, the stern nature of his tone prompting Cami to narrow her eyes in response.
"What boy?"
"Camille Diane—"
"It's a simple question, Dad. What boy?" Cami persists, aware of Eleven's gaze flipping between her own features, and her father's while sending him a saccharine smile, "Last I checked I wasn't dating anybody."
"Not dating doesn't mean you're not doing other things."
"What—other things?"
Eleven's inquiry brings an almost immediate flush to Cami's cheeks, her eyes drifting to the Eggos on her plate as she tries to corral her features into something that might persuade her father to believe that his suspicions are completely off base.
She would be a liar to pretend she isn't perhaps being a little reckless. That continuing a friendship with Nancy Wheeler and Steve Harrington comes with an almost instinctive need to push aside any lingering pain over that particular relationship with her own endeavors with boys. But the offer on the table right now, to venture into town to the Big Buy and the library, is perfectly genuine. No ulterior motives at all. No thought of a quick hook-up in her mind.
And Camille really wishes her dad wouldn't have brought up the issue at all, given Eleven is right there in the room with them.
"Nothing you need to worry about, kiddo," Hopper says, reaching over to ruffle Eleven's hair, his mustache twitching a bit in amusement as the girl wrinkles her nose again and pulls away with a smile.
"So—is that a yes on the library, or—"
"Food and the library only. It's that, or no deal."
"Food and the library only. Got it."
Hopper eyes Camille for another moment in silence, trying to find any hint of deceit in her expression or tone, but he finds none. Truthfully, he finds nothing but a neutral expression and a skeptically raised brow.
Not for the first time, he catches himself cursing the similarities between him, and his daughter. He remembers his ex-wife commenting on that more than once. On how Cami was so stubborn—so like him in temperament—that it was no wonder how often they butted heads. But he's also seen a softness in Cami that he didn't know she had in her where it pertained to Eleven. A softness that sure as hell didn't come from him.
Hopper can tell something is bothering her, though. Something she's been trying to mask by throwing herself into school. Into spending time with Eleven, getting the younger girl accustomed to life outside of the lab. And for a while, he had been willing to let that go, knowing Cami could fill the gaps whenever his own ability to put the new addition to their duo at ease fell flat.
It's been almost a year since everything, though. Almost a year, and his daughter is still holding something back. For the most part, Camille hasn't caused any trouble. Not overtly, anyway. But she's almost always out on Saturday nights, and occasional talks with Karen Wheeler tell him she isn't always spending her weekends with Nancy as she claims.
He turns his attention back to his breakfast as soon as he realizes that both Eleven and Cami are eyeing him with no small degree of curiosity, their uncanny ability to back him into corners whenever they are united on something prompting him to keep his silence, at least for now.
Suspicion that his daughter is either spending time with Eddie Munson, or some other random boy looking for a fling isn't exactly something he can ignore, and Hopper isn't sure which of those options might be worse.
…
(December 10th, 1983)
Sidling her way through the door of her grandfather's old cabin in the woods, Cami focuses on getting the bags she is carrying over to the kitchen counter so that she can set them down. Biking back through the woods with them slung over the handlebars hadn't exactly been an easy task, but she had done it, the time on her own giving her an opportunity to think over everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours alone.
Eleven was okay. Alive. Despite her father's deal with Hawkins Lab, the girl had somehow managed to evade the men hunting her, and make it out of the Upside Down unscathed. Unbeknownst to Cami, her father had even taken to leaving food out in the woods in the hopes that Eleven would find it. That she would know she wasn't completely on her own.
And now the girl is standing off to one side of the cabin, watching as Cami's father fiddles with an old record player he had apparently unearthed while she was away.
As soon as the first part of the song echoes into the room, Cami recognizes it, a sigh escaping as her father turns to face her head-on.
"Oh God, Dad, come on—"
"What? This is music, Camille. Better than any of that crap you listen to," He explains, making a show of starting to dance, and suppressing a laugh in response to his daughter's almost immediate roll of the eyes.
"You only like the song because your name's in it."
"What was that, kid? I can't hear you."
Shaking her head, Cami turns her attention to Eleven, the utterly perplexed look the younger girl wears prompting her to manage a smile while Jim Croce sings over the speakers and her father continues attempting to dance.
"Don't worry. He's always this weird. But you get used to it."
"Watch it, kid—"
"I thought you said you couldn't hear me," Cami quips, holding back a snort as her father pulls a face at her, and moving back to the kitchen to begin putting away the groceries she has just obtained. He is now pulling some of the sheets away from furniture and old boxes littering the cabin floor, while Eleven sweeps the dust away. Or at least while Eleven attempts to sweep the dust away, the sight of her father trying to teach the girl how to do the simple task properly bringing an unexpected burning to the corners of Cami's eyes.
Despite her relief at having Eleven back, seeing her father with the younger girl makes it nearly impossible not to think of Sara. And Cami wonders if her father sees the similarities as well. Eleven is the same age Sara would have been, had she lived. Both of them are bright. Curious. Eager to learn.
Because of this, Cami can't help but wonder if the two girls would have been friends. And that brings another emotion aside from a bittersweet sort of sadness to the forefront of her mind, forcing her to duck her head and feign an interest in the grocery bags on the kitchen counter until she can regain some semblance of control over her own wayward thoughts.
The emotion is pure guilt. Guilt because her dad has already made it abundantly clear that she is to tell no one that Eleven survived. Not Nancy, Joyce or Jonathan. Not Mike. Mike, who has been beside himself ever since they got Will back. Mike, who finally seemed to trust her, despite his initial reluctance to allow her inclusion in his ragtag group of friends when Dustin and Lucas first brought her in on their plans.
It would be a lie for Cami to say she doesn't understand the need for secrecy, but still, she wishes everyone else could be privy to the relief she has felt ever since Eleven ran into her arms the night before.
"Hey, you uh—you okay, kid?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."
"You sure about that?" Hopper asks, clearly having noticed Camille's distraction, and stepping away from Eleven to head for the kitchen after he is sure the younger girl has the hang of sweeping the floor, only to note that Cami is hastily wiping her fingertips beneath her eyes and rummaging through the grocery bags to begin putting away the purchases inside, "Camille—"
"I'm fine, Dad. Really."
"Because we don't have to do this if you're not ready."
"What do you mean we don't have to do this?" Cami hisses, risking a look behind her father to ensure Eleven cannot overhear what they are discussing, before turning her attention back to her dad once again, "We can't just—let her go out there on her own!"
"That's not what I'm saying. But if you need a minute to wrap your head around this—"
"I don't."
"If you need a minute to wrap your head around this, we can find another way to keep her safe."
"I don't need a minute. She isn't going anywhere."
Hopper recognizes the ferocity behind the words, and chooses to accept them for what they are, a part of him honestly relieved over how willing his daughter seems to be when it comes to what it is they are attempting to do. He doesn't really know what prompted the decision to start leaving Eggos and other snacks out in the forest. He doesn't know if it was guilt, or some gut instinct that told him Eleven was still alive. But he knew as soon as he found her that he owed Eleven absolutely nothing less than trying to give her a shot at a normal life.
And witnessing the obvious determination in Cami's features as she watches him, almost as though she is daring him to question her sincerity, Jim has absolutely no doubt in his mind now that he made the right choice.
"Okay, killer, ease up. It was just a suggestion."
"Yeah. A stupid one," Cami scoffs, pulling a packet of deli meat, and a small block of cheese out of one of the bags on the countertop, and moving to stow them in the refrigerator before going on, "I've got the groceries if you want to get back to your—attempt at dancing."
"I'm never gonna live that down, am I?"
"Nope. Not while I'm still breathing."
The remark is followed by the faintest hints of a smile pulling at Cami's lips, and she risks a glance at her father in time to note he appears to be grinning a bit as well. And even though she isn't foolish enough to think that Eleven's presence won't complicate their lives, in some ways, she also can't help but think it will be far more of an improvement than either she or her father probably deserve.
They've all suffered. Witnessed horrors that no one, old or young, should ever have to see.
And maybe the best way for all of them to move past that is to do so together.
…
Guys! GUYS! I've done it! The first chapter to the sequel for Cami and Steve is here! (Woot?) I have to say, after spending so much time in first person, in Cami's head so to speak, it was a bit difficult to get into the swing of doing this story a bit differently. I really want to be able to delve into other characters' thoughts and feelings as well this time around, and I always worry doing that in first person with multiple POVs makes it all come across as the same, with nothing really distinguishable between characters. So hopefully this way I'm still able to showcase some of the emotions everyone is experiencing while also allowing said emotions to be unique on a character by character basis?
I know this was a shorter installment compared to what I usually do, but I wanted to set the scene both for where Cami is at towards the start of season two, as well as to follow up on where we left off when Hopper found Eleven. I'm probably going to include at least a few more flashbacks in the interim of all the season two goodness, just to hint at the developing bond between Hopper, Cami and El, as well as to hopefully make the progression in Cami's mental and emotional state between seasons make sense, rather than seeming too jarring. And I promise future chapters won't have such lengthy authors notes at the end ;). I just wanted to explain my thought process, and I hope it all makes sense!
As always, my heartfelt thanks go out to every single one of you that gave Up Is Down so much support! And I thank those of you who took the time to give this sequel a shot as well! It is my sincerest hope you all found something enjoyable here, and as always I cannot wait to hear what you think!
Until next time, darlings…
MOMM