Jim Hopper (
something_incredible) wrote2022-08-12 01:55 pm
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The school year starts up again soon and Hopper is standing in the kitchen of the townhouse, looking down at a package of papers he'd just shaken out of an envelope addressed to him. Curriculum, books, school supplies, schedule, all things he's pretty sure Eleven should already have, but she hasn't shown him yet.
Probably a good thing the school mailed him a copy of all this, too.
"Shit," he says as he stares down at the list. The supply list is long, so is the list of books, and Hopper knows schools are underfunded in the present day, but he doesn't remember ever needing so much stuff just to go to school. Maybe he just hadn't been paying attention, though. Maybe this is all normal and he's just finally getting to live it.
But Beverly hadn't had such a long list either. He's fairly sure about that.
"Hey, El!" he calls up the stairs, his voice booming. "C'mon down here."
He has the day off, she's just been in her room, he figures they can probably knock most of this off the list in one day if they do it properly.
Probably a good thing the school mailed him a copy of all this, too.
"Shit," he says as he stares down at the list. The supply list is long, so is the list of books, and Hopper knows schools are underfunded in the present day, but he doesn't remember ever needing so much stuff just to go to school. Maybe he just hadn't been paying attention, though. Maybe this is all normal and he's just finally getting to live it.
But Beverly hadn't had such a long list either. He's fairly sure about that.
"Hey, El!" he calls up the stairs, his voice booming. "C'mon down here."
He has the day off, she's just been in her room, he figures they can probably knock most of this off the list in one day if they do it properly.
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"It's okay, Dustin," she tells him, and scratches behind his ear before pushing up from her bed to go downstairs. She fixes Hopper with an expectant, curious look.
Then she sees the scattering of lists and she makes a face before she can school her expression neutral again.
"Oh."
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Or maybe she was meant to pick it up. Hopper honestly doesn't know how most of this works. Beverly has been through it all, but she'd also been pretty independent and there was something about the fact that he'd been her foster home at first that meant the Home still took care of a lot of these things when they'd first started out.
"Doesn't matter, but we gotta get this stuff done," he says.
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She doesn't even own the book she needs for that, and summer is now almost over.
"Right now?" she asks. She'll have to change, and make sure she has her money. The cat needs a new toy, anyway.
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Hopper isn’t the best parent, but he’s not the worst either. He just has a bad tendency to forget things like this.
“C’mon, it’ll be fun,” he says even though he doesn’t know if that’s true. “We can get lunch, too, or something.”
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"I need to go change," she says. She's still wearing the softer lounge pants she'd pulled on fresh out of bed earlier that morning.
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He folds the list and puts it in his pocket, then goes into the living room to hunt down wherever he'd last tossed his wallet, phone, and keys. One thing about being sober he's liking is that he actually tends to know where his things are. He still forgets stuff every now and then, most people do, but there are no more blackouts where he has to try and retrace his steps the next morning to figure out where the hell his car might be.
Probably a better example for the girls, too.
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Eleven looks at the bowl. "You had breakfast already," she points out. He narrows his eyes at her and meows, and El rolls her eyes. "No. The vet said too much food is bad for your heart." He meows again, a longer, drawn out sound, and Eleven sighs. "One treat," she says, holding up a finger. She fishes the treat bag out from the plastic, shoe-box-sized container that holds the cat supplies. He jumps down and tangles around her legs, then jumps back up onto the stand, then jumps back down again in his impatience. El tosses the single treat kibble to the side, letting it scatter across the floor and making him chase after it.
That done, she puts the treats away, latches the lid, then turns to Hopper innocently.
"I'm ready."
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"So do you want to do supplies or clothes first?" he asks as they get into the car. "Or maybe you and Bev can do clothes together. I'm not much use when it comes to telling you what looks good."
He doesn't care, honestly, as long as she's not showing a bunch of skin and she's happy.
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"So we should get supplies." Maybe she should have Stan take her shopping for school supplies, actually. He'll know not only what she needs, but what will be best to keep her organized.
But she doesn't mind going with Hopper, either.
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He doesn't do too bad himself these days, but then, he mostly sticks with jeans and t-shirts under flannel, just like he would have in Hawkins. For some reason it still works for him.
Women seem to like it anyway, which he doesn't need to share with Eleven.
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He unlocks the doors and climbs in, waiting for her to join.
"There's that department store a couple blocks up," he says. "Let's try there."
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"Okay. Can I get fun notebooks?" She'd seen kids last year with notebooks with vibrantly printed covers, or others with enormous stickers layered across them.
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The answer is yes either way. Hopper just wants to make Eleven happy and if fun notebooks makes her happy, that's what he'll buy for her.
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"So... bright pink then?" he asks, although now he's just teasing her. "Kitten? Starfish? What about bright pink kitten starfish?"
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"We can get one of those for you to write your notes in," she decides. "Since you seem to like it so much."
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Not all that long ago, he wouldn't have been able to make these jokes. He would have felt like he was shitting on his own masculinity, but getting sober puts a lot of stuff in perspective.
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"Then pen can have a pom-pom on the top," she says, as sagely as she can while giggling madly.
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He taps his temple, then grins. "Always thinkin', kid. That's what makes me so good at my job."
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"Do you like being police?" she asks.
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"It feels good to help people," he says, pulling into the parking lot and finding a spot. "But there are a lot of cops who don't help people. They use their power to be assholes and I don't like that. I see some bad things, too, kid. Some really hard things."
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"I think you're pretty young to have the rest of your life figured out," he says. "But hey, it's a possible career choice, yeah."
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He'd gone to Vietnam when he was older than Eleven is now and even that had been too goddamn young to see the things he'd seen and to have done the things he's done.
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"It seemed like an easy option," he admits. "I was a soldier, so bein' a cop just seemed natural. It paid pretty well, but it was a rough job in New York."
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She thinks she can guess, though. Finding Kali in the city had been easy enough for her, but she hadn't been afraid. She could protect herself, and she knew where she was going. It was the how to get there that had been hard; the city was enormous, with corners and alleys and shadows that stretched forever. She wonders if New York was similar.
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It was hard to see here, too, but Hopper is a different man than he'd been when he first started working in New York.
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He shakes his head a little and says, "I know you got super powers, kid, it just scares me, thinking of you seein' some of the shit I've seen."
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He's trying to protect her.
"But maybe I can stop it from happening," she reasons. "So then, nobody has to see it."
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Maybe she will look into those other jobs Hopper told her about. A lawyer, or a social worker, or a shelter worker. Maybe she can do good that way.
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"This place has got other people, too," he points out as they make their way toward the store. "Back in Hawkins, I know you felt like it was your job to protect everyone, but Darrow's got people with all kinds of powers. It's not all on you, kid."