Hopper has done a lot of lying down. Maybe not in literal gutters, but he's pretty sure passing out on the front porch of his cottage could count as a metaphorical gutter, especially given the amount of beer and the number of pills that had been in his system at the time. These days, alone in this damn city, he can practically feel himself twitching for both, but he thinks if he does that, he might end up in a real gutter this time.

Maybe Eleven isn't here, but there are other kids who might need him. Kids who might not trust him completely anymore if something like that happens. He needs to make sure he does right in this regard, even if it's hard.

"I think your assessment is pretty rare," he says with another small smile. "I'm from a small town and there are plenty of people there who think being upright isn't nearly enough. But then, small towns talk, don't they?"