- GIRLS ON FILM -

Chapter Four: Will The Wise

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Chief Jim Hopper sat in his truck, hands gripping the steering wheel so tight his knuckles were alabaster white. He had been upset by his daughters before, naturally, every father had but this one won the Olympic Gold. That was if making stupid decisions that could put his children's lives in danger and resulting in a very, very angry father was an event.

Not only had Eleven carelessly disregard every countermeasure he had put in place to assure her safety but Jane had as well. Jane was older, she had seen firsthand what those looking for Eleven were capable of, yet she still followed through. She knew better, she knew better than to bring strangers into their home.

Jim trusted her with his entire livelihood. For the last five years it was just Jane and Jim, the kind of love and trust they shared was not something that was acquired easily. Nonetheless, here he was sitting, hopelessly angry in a Hawkins PD pickup next to Steve Harrington's BMW.

She said she was alone. How could they have done this? How could they have been so careless?

With a loud huff, the man kicked open the metal door, work boots landing on the gravel with an intense crunch. He looked up at his cabin, every damn light was flicked on, the curtains were half drawn, and the door was unlocked. As if all three shared rules were nonexistent to the pair of sisters, or at least that's what it looked like from the outside.

Hopper stalked up to the front door, pushing it open with ease ready to snap at whoever was standing closest to the door. A shouting of Jane Irene Hopper! was pulling at his lips but against what the scene from outside had portrayed Jane and El were not sitting at the dining table as he had imagined them. Rather, quite the opposite.

Pillows and blankets were strewn all over the house and while Jim thought that was odd, it took a minute for him to register what he was listening to. Talking? And crying... who the hell was crying? Scanning his brown eyes from the disaster around the house to the stretch of hardwood behind the sofa.

David Harrington's son was hunched over, arms wrapped tightly around something as he spoke softly. It wasn't until the Chief noticed the black Vans lying limp on the ground that his breath left his body.

This cannot keep happening. Jane Hopper, his baby cannot keep getting hurt as a direct result of his actions.

"Hey," His gruff voice boomed through the cabin, Steve jumped at the sudden sound. He had been paying so much attention to Jane that he hadn't even heard the door creaking open. "What happened in here?"

"I'm not supposed to be here." Steve spoke dejected, starting a mental war on whether he should just jump up and bolt right out of the house. Or stay, holding Jane on the floor and risk the Hawkins Police Chief's wrath.

"No you're not, but you're here now," Jim grumbled, hanging up his hat and tossing his coat aggressively over the arm of the recliner. "Now I don't need to ask again. What the hell happened in here?" He demanded, walking closer to the pair. His heart fractionated a bit when his daughter gazed up at him. Baby blue irises sparkling with tears, the drops streaming down her soft cheeks. Leaving them reddened with sorrow and pain.

"Eleven, her and Jane were talking. Fighting I guess but all of a sudden she freaked out, like picked Jane up and dropped her on the floor. Right on her head." Steve sighed, frustrated with his inability to explain what had occurred. He knew Jane's father would believe him but just accepting himself what he had seen was a difficult task, aiding in the ramble he had let out.

"She did this?" Hopper questioned, crouching down to his daughter's level. Jane nodded slowly, her head aching with every pound of her heart and breath she inhaled. "Are you alright Baby?" The father questioned again, his daughter shrugged not trusting her sob-swollen voice just yet.