1981 (Jim Hopper)

The Interview

All I could hear was the persistent thudding of my heart beat, a recorder sitting in front of me waiting for my words to spill into the microphone. I hadn't a clue what to say to Murray. Just that I saw her covered in blood and she went on about experiments? Murray had it covered, though, and he had questions written.

"Where did you see Elliot last?" He asked, with no regard to how this entire thing made me feel.

Not to mention, the entire motel room wasn't the cleanest...

Hopper thought I was working, and I crossed my fingers so desperately that he would trust me enough to not go into the gas station.

"I saw her in an alley, off of Jackson. Right near the grocer... that probably makes no sense to you but, in Hopkins it would. She was scared and... angry? Covered in blood."

Murray nodded, smacking his lips, "what did she say?"

I clenched my jaw and fidgeted with the sheets of the bed.

"She... she was talking about a lab. Her mom said over the course of the summer she had started a new job, some sort of testing facility, very discreet but supposedly highly acclaimed or something. It to me sounded like a good job but it really freaked out her mom. I never knew why. Until Elliot found me."

"Do you know how she found you?"

I shook my head, starting to cave into myself, "no idea."

"Where was she heading?"

I shook my head again, "if she's not even going to tell her mom, I'm not spilling."

"She's safe?"

"I think so..." I sigh heavily.

"Anything else strange going on in Hawkins? Anything that could point me in that direction?"

"I-I don't know if this matters but like the weathers colder than normal for this time of year?" I say with a slight chuckle.

"I sound like a damn conspiracy theorist." I mumble.

Murray shuts off the recorder, starts writing some stuff on his notepad at the table beside me.

I try my best to peek but he's writing so fast I wouldn't even know where to begin.

I try and focus on my surroundings, the room, the gentle gleam of headlights peering in through the window. A shadow looked as if though it were approaching, inching closer and closer.

"M-Murray?" I ask, but he's completely engulfed in his work.

"Murray!" I shout as a bang comes to the door.

They weren't knocking, they were breaking down the damn door.

Murray finally gathers his attention and directs it toward the door, scrambling with his notes in his hands as he backs far away and gets closer to the wall.

"We're going to die." He whispers.

But, in bursts a broken door and... Hopper.

"What the hell, this guy?!"

"What?!" I shout in disbelief.

"You were acting weird the other day! Talking on the phone with your other... whatever the hell he is!"

"I'm right here, you know?" Murray gawked.

"Oh Hop for the love of god..." I mutter, placing my head in my hands.

"Writing stupid love poems!" Hopper shouts, grabbing Murray by his button up shirt.

His eyes are burning through Murray's skin, his nostrils flaring as he gets more and more angry with the thoughts drilling through his mind. Hopper rips the notepad from Murray and tosses the smaller man to the ground, reading over everything.

Suddenly, he begins to grow red in the face, glancing around to room to notice its very, unsexy, not arousing setting, seeing the recorder on the night stand.

"I-I thought you were cheating on me. With some... balding... balding writer." Jim laughs, hands on his knees and practically in tears.

"I'm just gathering information from her about her friend. Hawkins is going to get a lot of attention after this one-"

"Wait you two can't be serious..." Hoppers laughter falls.

"Hannah?" He quizzed, giving a look over to me.

"Hopper, my dreams, her mom, the blood, I can't hide from all of those things." I say, barely audible.

"We're not putting Hawkins on the map like that. There's nothing going on in Hawkins." Hopper refused.

"Are you worried about Hawkins or are you worried about your relationship? What is that, a 20 some odd year age gap?" Murray asks, curling his lip.

"Can it." Jim was starting to grow angry.

I couldn't help but let my mouth fall open ever so slightly, "you're ignoring this so that people avoid you until news of us blows over... aren't you, Hop?"

The whole room is silent... but I wasn't having it. He fooled me into thinking he was okay with professing all of this, laying our cards out on the table but in reality, he wasn't. He didn't want surrounding cities to know I even existed.

"I said AREN'T YOU, HOP?!" I shouted.

Hoppers face continued to redden when he finally shouts back,

"YEAH, ALRIGHT?! YEAH I DON'T WANT ANYONE KNOWING I'M IN A RELATIONSHIP WITH A TEENAGER 21 YEARS YOUNGER THAN ME! HAWKINS ALREADY KNOWS WHY DOES THE WORLD NEED TO BE HURLED AT ME, TOO?! THIS IS ABOUT YOU, IT'LL INVOLVE ME, IT PUTS US AT RISK!"

"BECAUSE THIS IS BIGGER THAN US! YOU SELFISH... PIG!"

Murray's eyes darted between the two of us as he tried slinking to his recorder.

"Oh no you don't!" Hopper says, slamming Murray into the wall.

"Hopper!" I shout, jumping from the bed and onto Jim's back.

"HANNAH!" He yells, letting go of Murray to try and pry my body from him.

I wrap my arms around his neck as tightly as I possibly could, beginning to tear up ever so slightly.

"Jim, please. I love you. Please." I whisper into his ear.

But it's as if it went in one ear, out of the other.

"My ex will take everything!"

Murray is just inches from the door, but Hopper trips him, the recorder falling to the ground and before I had even a split second to react, Murray and I hear the plastic of the tape crush underneath Jim's boot.

I'm shrugged off of his shoulders quickly, Jim wiping away his nose that was running, his eyes reddening and brimming with the slightest bit of anxiousness. He wanted to cry, I could see it in him, but in front of Murray, he would never.

"This story is being put to bed, end of discussion. I'll be waiting in the car."

I stare down at Murray and help him up, repeatedly saying,

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I'm sorry for putting you guys in, well, I can't imagine you two are gonna be real chummy on the drive back."

I furrow my brows, "did he take the notepad?"

"Everything. But without your voice, my stories nothing. The notepad wouldn't even matter."

I bite my lip and wipe my tears, "thanks for trying."

Murray comes to me with a weak smile, placing his hand on my shoulder, and with a nod he just says to me softly,

"Good luck."