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chuck

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Hopper hasn't done anything as shitty as looking up Laura's boyfriend in the police record system, even though he's been pretty damn tempted. She's told him some things, the kinds of thing that, as a father, have made him pretty goddamn furious and he can't help but feel protective of her now, even if he knows she'd roll her eyes at him if she knew. She needs someone looking out for her, though. Not because she can't, but because it seems to Hopper like she's never really had it before.

And that just doesn't sit well with him.

So maybe this Chuck's a good guy. Probably he is. But Hopper still wants to be sure about it and so he does a little digging and figures out where the guy lives and then just makes sure to station himself in the area for a little while on a Friday afternoon. Chances are he'll come by eventually and then Hopper can figure out the rest of his plan.

Not that it's a plan. He's just got a coffee he's nursing and he's pretending to do some window shopping when he sees the guy he knows has been with Laura at a couple of parties headed down the sidewalk. Just as he's about to walk behind Hopper, he takes a step back, as if trying to appraise something in the window of the store, then steps quickly forward again at the last second, avoiding a collision.

"Shit, sorry, man," he says, turning, then recognition dawns on his face, as if he's just seen the guy. "You're Laura's boyfriend, right? Uh... Chuck?"

Hopper knows damn well what his name is.

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Most of Chuck's days wind up fitting the same pattern. He works out, he walks his dogs, he spends time with Laura, though conventional dating is not exactly a strong suit of his. Sometimes, he doesn't mind it. There are worse things to do with an inexplicable second chance at life, one he still isn't sure he wants but has had to get used to over the last few years. He still sort of wishes he had an actual goddamn purpose, but not knowing what that could be in a world like this one, he'll stick to what he knows.

He's coming back from the gym, heading towards his apartment, when a man nearly walks into him. His mood is decent enough that he's about to shrug it off and keep going, but the recognition stops him in his tracks instead, his brow raising. They've never met before that he can remember, and for that matter, he's not sure anyone has ever identified him as being Laura's boyfriend before. It's true, though, and there's no reason to pretend otherwise. "Yeah," he says, drawing the word out a bit, somewhat questioning. "I don't know you, do I?"

"Nah," he says, then offers his hand. "Jim Hopper. I'm a friend of Laura's. I've seen you with her at a couple of the parties."

It's a point in his favour that he doesn't balk and say something shitty like they're just seeing each other. Some kind of bullshit guy thing meant to downplay what they really are. Hopper might seem like that sort of person at first glance and he knows he's got a hard time with expressing real emotion a lot of the time, but he'd loved being married. Being a husband. Those were some of the best years of his life and he's not a big fan of men who act like idiots. So that's working for Chuck so far.

"Kept figuring I should introduce myself at some point, but those parties get so crazy, right?" he asks with a crooked smile.

"They really do," Chuck says, huffing out a breath as he shakes the man's hand. "Little too crazy for me, really." He's never been big on parties, never been particularly social at all. His life has never really allowed for that, from the time he was too young to find himself missing it. When he does go to those parties, it's usually for Laura's sake. He doesn't mind it, nor would he mind acknowledging that. As strange and rocky as things have been, he loves her. Suffering through a party for a few hours for her sake isn't such a hardship at all.

"Nice to meet you, though. I don't know most of Laura's friends."

"Yeah, tell me about it," Hopper says. "I pretty much only go because my girlfriend likes going to them. They're not really my scene most of the time."

Realistically, if he can drink, he can make just about anything work for him, but that seems a little too damn sad to say, even for him. He'll stick with saying it's Lucy and her influence that gets him to attend the parties.

"She'd probably give me shit for introducing myself," he admits with a snort. "She'd think I was checking up on her or something."

"Are you?" Chuck asks, brow arching slightly. He might not have gone there on his own, but having the subject brought up, it seems like a fair enough question. And while he might have what some would politely call an excess of pride, if he's close enough to Laura to know anything about her past, Chuck can't exactly blame him for that. Had she wound up with someone other than him, he might have wanted to check up on them, too, to make sure she wouldn't get hurt again. She's had more than enough of that already. He might be an asshole, but he'd never do anything like that.

"I won't tell her, if you are. But since you brought it up..."

"Well... maybe a little," Hopper says. "But not on purpose."

That's bullshit, but he figures he doesn't need to share that bit of information. It's enough for him to admit he's checking Chuck out on Laura's behalf.

"But, hey, I'm a cop," he offers with a good natured laugh. "At least I didn't run your name through the system. Then she'd really kick my ass and I'd deserve it."

As much as he wants to know about Chuck, he knows that's crossing a line. Both with Laura and his damn job.

"Yeah, that might've been a bit much," Chuck says, letting out a surprised laugh. Hearing that, he's not entirely convinced that it isn't on purpose, but it seems a bit pointless to call that out. They're both here now, they've met, and he's not going to go out of his way to impress some guy, but he's not going to be a total asshole, either. If Laura likes him, it must be for a reason, and he still sort of gets it, anyway. She's been through a lot. At least she's got some other people looking out for her.

"You wouldn't've found anything but some bar fights if you did."

"Who the hell doesn't have a bar fight or two?" Hopper answers with shrug. As a cop he's probably not supposed to say stuff like that, but he'd be lying if he said he hadn't started and finished a couple bar fights in his time. Not since he got here, but he's been in a better place in a lot of ways since he got here.

"As long as you're not takin' Laura as backup," he jokes, then pauses. "Hell, that might actually be a good idea. I don't think I'd wanna tangle with that girl if she was in the wrong mood."

Chuck smiles crookedly at the response. He can't say he's relieved, because he doesn't really give a fuck about anyone's approval — at least, that's what he tells himself — but he is a little glad for the fact of that not to be a point of friction. It's not like he's ever seriously hurt anyone. Hell, he's done a bit less drinking since Laura stopped altogether, not wanting to make sobriety more difficult for her, even if it's not something he has any interest in himself. Fighting is just what he knows, and here, it's easy to get restless and frustrated.

"Yeah, I sure as hell wouldn't," he says. She's tough. Maybe not in the way most people would think of, but she is. "No one would know what they were getting into."

Even though he's orchestrated this whole thing and feels pretty damn shady about that, Hopper finds himself smiling genuinely at that. He likes Laura a lot, wants her to be happy, have a good life, all those things he wanted for Sara, too.

And like Sara, Laura's chances had been stripped away from her by forces beyond her control. She's got a second chance for it now and Hopper knows he's projecting onto her a little, but he can't help but want good things for her.

"You wanna get a drink or something?" he asks Chuck. "I can keep questioning you about Laura, you can tell me to mind my own damn business. It'll be a good time."

"Yeah, alright," Chuck agrees with a nod. Everything about this is more than a little weird, but it could also be much, much worse. It feels like the sort of thing that someone is supposed to do in a relationship, anyway — make an effort with the people close to his girlfriend. If Laura likes Hopper, then he should try to spend some time with the guy. He might be used to being seen only as an asshole, and kind of expects the same to happen here, but at least this time, it won't be for any lack of trying.

"Long as you know that is probably how it's gonna go."

He shrugs and says, "I'm a cop, remember? I'm pretty used to people telling me to mind my own business."

Besides, he's going to get more out of Chuck just by talking to him about general things than he would questioning him directly about Laura. Most of the time he writes off being a cop as something casual, something that doesn't really give him any particular skills, but most people don't know he was also a homicide detective for a pretty long time and that he was really damn good at it. He knows how to get information slowly.

"There a place around here?" he asks. "I was mostly just doing some window shopping. My kid's just about out of school and I feel like I should get somethin' for her. Kinda... congratulations, y'know? I don't know."

"That's nice of you," Chuck says, feeling at once a little brittle and a little more inclined to think well of this guy. His father would never have done anything like that for him. He'd barely said a goddamn word when Chuck graduated from Jaeger Academy, the top of his class, their youngest graduate and the youngest pilot the PPDC had. Nothing would have been enough to earn him that attention. It's always going to be an uncomfortable subject for him. That Hopper is doing something for his kid is nice, though, the sort of thing a parent should do.

Nodding down the block, he adds, "I know a place nearby, yeah. We can go there."

Hopper shrugs and feels a little self conscious about it, though he sure as hell wouldn't say so. Maybe it's not entirely the truth, he'd been trying to run into Chuck, but he has been thinking about finding something for Beverly as a congratulations. He knows exams are a lot of work and he'd never want to write them.

"She's been workin' hard," he says as he falls in step beside Chuck, letting him lead the way. "And she's a good kid. Her real dad is a piece of shit, so..." He shrugs again. It'd be too much to say he wants to make up for all the horror Beverly's father put her through, but he thinks it might be evident enough in the shrug.

"Makes sense," Chuck says, nodding once. He doesn't need to hear the details or a reason for that to be the case; it's easy enough to piece it all together. It's still a really nice gesture, too. He's not the sort to come out and say so all effusively, or to think too much of someone he's only just met, but it does make him less dismissive than he typically is. Between that and Hopper knowing Laura, he can at least give this guy a shot, though that doesn't change the fact that he is and always will be prickly.

"Not really sure what you get for someone finishing school, but there's bound to be something."

Hopper snorts and says, "A set of pens to turn around and do it all again next year? Hell, she'd probably slap me if I did that and I'd deserve it."

The truth is, he's at a bit of a loss, too. He's thinking maybe he'll offer to bank roll a celebratory party for Beverly and her friends. They can all come over to the apartment he'll spring for soda and snacks and buy them pizza and let them rent some movies and then just leave them alone for a couple of hours. It's not a lot of work on his part, after all, just some money.

"So what kinda place are you from?" he asks. "Ghosts real? Or monsters walking the streets?"

"Don't know about any ghosts, but we had monsters, yeah," Chuck says, shrugging as easily as anything. "Big ugly ones coming up out of the Pacific. Called 'em kaiju." They weren't exactly walking the streets so much as they were destroying them and everything around them, too massive just to stroll down the sidewalk or whatever. The description is close enough, though. When it comes to describing the world he lived in, that's the most significant thing to mention, anyway, most telling of the life he had before this place.

Sometimes it's still odd, being in a world that isn't at and has never known war.

"What about you? Ghosts, monsters, all of the above?"

"Shit," Hopper says, sounding almost impressed. "Yeah, monsters here, too. Big enough, but not as big as yours from the sound of it. Ours came out of a tear between worlds, not the ocean."

But Eleven had closed that up. It's the last thing he had seen her do and if nothing else, at least Hopper can feel pretty secure in the knowledge that Hawkins is safe. There's no way in hell that kid is going to let any monsters hurt her friends. They're a lucky group of kids.

"Some asshole decided to do a science experiment on some innocent people, then pushed one of the results hard enough that she ripped a hole into this real fucked up place. Not her fault, though. She was just a kid."

"Jesus," Chuck says, because for all that he's seen some fucked up things, experimenting on kids is on a different level entirely. He'd lost his childhood, but so did countless others, the war against the kaiju destroying innumerable lives. After a certain point, he'd voluntarily given it up, anyway. It might have sucked, but at least it wasn't like that. And at least their monsters didn't come from some experiment run by people. They'd all been caught off-guard with no one to blame. Maybe they fought better because of that.

"Ours was... The tear was at the bottom of the ocean, but they were the ones who did it. This scientist I knew explained it all once. All we could do was fight back."

He still misses it sometimes, that fight, that purpose, but he buries that thought for now. Halfway dreading the answer, he asks, "That kid turn out alright?"

"Yeah," he says. "Yeah, she's okay. Found herself with someone who gave a shit about keeping her safe and made sure the lab couldn't find her again."

That glosses over a lot of shit that had happened, between Eleven running away and her coming back to close the gate, but Hopper knows it ends well. He's got her birth certificate with his name listed at her father tucked away in his apartment as proof of that. Doctor Owens had come through in the end and Hopper is grateful for that. For the knowledge that Eleven is safe, even if he can't be with her now.

"Any way for those scientists of yours to close the tear?" he asks. "Because ours sure as shit didn't have the faintest idea."

"Yeah," Chuck says, huffing out a dry laugh. "Blow it up." He considers leaving at that. The rest is hardly anything he's kept a secret, but it veers into seriously fucking personal territory to share with someone he's only just meeting for the first time. It's the similarities in their stories that change his mind. He doubts it was the same shit, or that what worked for them will work here, too, but with someone who's experienced it, it doesn't feel quite as consequential to tell someone about.

Most of the people here don't get it. Darrow might be weird as shit, but it's a world without war, and that's a hard adjustment to make after he dedicated his life to and gave it for one.

"The plan was to drop a bomb into the Breach," he explains, deciding that this story could probably do without some of its details, at least right off the bat. "Then we found out it wouldn't work. Not on its own. The only way to get anything through would be with the body of one of the kaiju." He shrugs, as noncommittal as he can be with the subject at hand. "Whole mission was fucked from the start anyway."

Hopper has been in the midst of a war, he's seen the choices men make and the things they do in order to help others, and the way Chuck talks about the mission being fucked makes Hopper think the mission wasn't actually fucked. At least not in the typical sense. People make all kinds of sacrifices when something goes off the rails.

"Still got the bomb through, though, huh?" he asks as he pulls open the door of the bar finally and heads for a booth. "Seems like you might've."

He doesn't expect details. There are just some things that he's more familiar with than he would like to admit.

Though he'd have been content to leave it at that, Chuck doesn't mind the question, either. He's never had a particular dislike for talking about what happened. Despite everything he said to the contrary, he always knew he probably wouldn't see the end of the war; when he got into that Jaeger, he was perfectly aware that he probably wouldn't be coming back. It's the part after that's harder for him, how he's struggled to find a purpose and to adjust in a world that never saw the same turmoil he grew up in.

Besides, he's started telling this story. He might as well finish it.

"Not exactly," he says, more nonchalant than a statement like that calls for, as he takes a seat in the booth. "We were under attack, the — machine we were in, we called them Jaegers, it was damaged, our bomb release was jammed. We never would've made it." Maybe with the other two teams who would have been there, they would have. What ifs don't get a person anywhere, though, and he doesn't regret where he wound up or what he did because of it. "Best thing we could do was get those big, ugly fuckers out of the way so the other team could finish the job. So that's what we did. Detonated the payload."

Then he'd woken up on a strange beach in a strange city, and his first thought was that he should have been dead. A person doesn't blow themselves up and expect to wake up afterwards. He doubts he needs to spell that out to anyone. "Someone from home was here for a while, said the others found a way to get it done. That's what counts."

"Must've been damn weird, showing up here instead of..." Hopper trails off and shrugs, because damned if he knows what waits for people after they die. And that's what Chuck is telling him, he's pretty clear on that. After everything he's learned in this place, though, it isn't a surprise, and he thinks maybe it's good for Laura, having someone so close to her who understands what she's been through. At least in that sense.

The rest of it, he's not sure anyone can understand that. It hurts him a little to think so.

"Sometimes that's the most important part," he says. "Knowing it worked out in the end. I, uh... that kid I was telling you about. The lab really would've just tracked her down and dragged her back, so we had to find her a way out. A way to make her someone else. I was working on it when I ended up here, but a couple months later, I found her birth certificate in my mailbox. A doctored birth certificate, it was fake, had a fake name on it. Had me listed as her biological father. As long as she's safe..." He shrugs.

"Yeah," Chuck says with a mostly humorless laugh. "It was." Weird and unwanted, but getting into that specifically seems like a lot to admit to someone he's only just met. It isn't that he tries to hide it, necessarily, just that he doesn't talk about it. He'd known what was coming; in some ways, he'd known it for years, certain on some level that there was no way he would live to see the end of the war. To go out helping to see that through is the most someone like him could have hoped for. There are parts of his life here that he actually likes now, but he still has never managed to feel like he fits in a world like this one.

Though he doesn't usually concern himself with the lives and problems of people he doesn't know, it's almost easier to focus on that in this instance. He gets it, anyway. Not in terms of specifics — the idea of him caring for a child is beyond funny — but as far as it being enough just knowing what happened. "At least you know it worked out," he adds with a nod of understanding. "Goes a long way, doesn't it?"

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