0 0 2 ━ [ 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘏𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘵𝘰𝘯 ]

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝟹𝟷: 𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑

Hawkins quaked as a loud boom thundered overhead. The street lights standing over the sleepy streets flickered, the cars parked along them blaring their alarms. At the Hawk Theatre, the screens simultaneously switched to black and the popcorn machine stopped popping. The radio on the janitor's cleaning cart at Hawkins Middle School erupted into static and a chorus of frustrated shouts echoed around The Silver Cat when the TV above the bar shut off in the middle of the Colts game. 

"What the hell was that?" Hopper shouted, slamming his foot on the brake. The truck came to a screeching halt on the side of the road, stirring up a cloud of dirt and dust. Accompanied by Joyce, and with Eleven, Mike, Will, Max, Lucas, and Dustin following not too far behind in their respective cars, Hopper had been on his way to the park where the Lab used to stand when the mysterious noise rattled his truck so hard that he nearly lost control of the steering wheel. "Thunder?"

Joyce craned her neck as she searched the darkening sky outside the passenger window. "I don't think so..."

Hopper glanced in the rearview mirror to see that the cars in his caravan had also stopped. "Whatever it was, we don't have time to lose," he said, switching his foot to the gas pedal. But before he could press down, Joyce stopped him.

"Hold on, Hop," she began, placing a gentle hand on his chest. "Take a breath, I can hear your heart beating from here."

"I can't take a breath, we've got to get to Quinn and to--" Hopper began when Joyce cut him off. 

"We will, I promise we will," Joyce assured him. "But you need to be in the right mindset when we do or people are going to get hurt."

Hopper sighed, rubbing his hands over his face and through his hair. He ignored his creaking bones and the sharp pain shooting through his back, wondering just how age had crept up on him so fast. Aging was never easy for anyone, but it had been especially hard for Hopper because too much of it had happened without Sarah.

She hadn't been there when Eleven had gotten her college acceptance letter or when they road-tripped cross-country to move her to Oregon, blasting ABBA the entire way. She hadn't been there at his wedding, standing beside Joyce as one of her bridesmaids on the shore of Lover's Lake. She hadn't been there when he had gotten an accolade from the mayor for his 20 years of service as Chief of Hawkins Police. And yet he had instinctively looked for her every single time, forgetting for a blissful moment that she was gone only to be reminded all over again.