IT HAD BEEN nearly one year since the world had turned upside down. The notion hung like a dark cloud over those who had seen and now knew too much about the underside of Hawkins, Indiana.
To say the upcoming anniversary had everyone on edge would have been to understate the gravity of their shared foreboding.
Will Byers was starting to see things again, Hopper had divulged to Ana one evening in October. She knew he'd been attending Will's appointments at Hawkins Laboratory alongside Joyce, feeling a sense of responsibility for the young boy.
And Ana could have chalked it up to just that, could have justified Hopper's increasingly distant behavior on demons resurfacing, had it not been for the night of October 30th, 1984.
That evening, Ana couldn't fall asleep, not for the life of her. She tried reading, she tried drinking, she tried sitting in silence and letting the darkness envelop her, but nothing worked. There was an itch at the back of her brain that begged to be scratched, one that wouldn't let her rest until it was acknowledged.
She'd felt it for sometime now, but that night, it refused to be ignored any longer. So, she'd decided to drive out to Hopper's place on the lake. Naively believing his company could lull her into the peaceful sleep that was alluding her.
Upon arrival, she noticed that the entire place was encased in darkness. This wouldn't have appeared unusual for any normal person. After all, the hour was late, but Hopper tended to be as restless in the evenings as Ana had always been.
Letting herself in with the key he'd given her, she found the owner nowhere in sight. It was strange, but perhaps he'd been called into the office on some emergency, or, at least, that's what she tried to reason. But, as the hours ticked past, that justification fell flat. The night turned to day, and Hopper never returned home.
The good excuses had run out by the time the sun rose, and all that remained in their stead was a certainty that Hopper was hiding something, and paranoia over what that something could be.
Humanity is both living and learning.
Ana had been in this scenario before, the memory still stung like a fresh bee sing, but she'd be damned if she hadn't learned from it. Which is why she didn't confront Hopper immediately and outright.
You can't accuse a bullshitter head-on, that lesson had already been hard learned years prior. No, liars will just double down on their own lies to save themselves. You have to catch a deceiver in their act of deception, leaving no room for half-assed explanations, and the opportunity to concoct even bigger untruths.
A hollow feeling sunk in Ana's chest as she grew convinced that that's exactly what Hopper was, another trickster she'd believed to be true. The notion churned her stomach until she felt sick.
Hadn't she warned him about this shit not even a year ago? The truth, no matter how painful was always more preferable. She'd told him she'd always sniff out a falsity. Too bad the lesson hadn't sunk in, apparently.
So, she'd devised a plan to catch the police chief in his web of lies. All you have to do is give someone enough rope, and they'll eventually hang themselves with it, right?
It began with a strategically placed phone call to the precinct. "Hey, it's Halloween. How about after work, you come over and help me pass out candy?" The flirty tone was there, an implication that she wasn't just inviting him over for a night of handing out sweets.
"I can't. We're going to be busy all night keeping these kids in check," he dismissed her offer absentmindedly, the sound of rustling papers echoing throughly the line.
Well, that was some premium bullshit, at worst a house would be egged tonight, and she knew it. "Okay," Ana said, trying to suppress the doubtful timber edging into her voice. "Well, if something changes, let me know. I love you."
"Yeah," came his short reply, and the line went dead. Hopper hadn't even bothered to return the sentiment, and the acknowledgment made her heart clench.
Now, there's one trick, just one, to catching someone in the act. It's so simple that it doesn't get the appreciation it truly deserves. You follow them. Wherever they go, you go, except don't pursue too closely and definitely don't keep your headlights on. That's just standard operating procedure.
And that's just what Ana did on Halloween night. She followed Hopper's cruiser deep into the woods where it parked alongside a remote cabin. He'd never once mentioned owning a cabin, that son of a bitch!
After watching him enter, Ana crept slowly through the darkness. Not a leaf crunched nor branch broke underneath her careful footing. She was quieter than a mouse stealing cookies on Christmas Eve. She even managed to avoid the well-concealed trip wires surrounding the property, but you don't date a cop for nearly a year without learning at least some tricks of the trade.
Standing in front of the weathered wooden door, she had to steel herself for the worst. Nothing good could lie on the other side. And, Ana Thompson had to ask herself at that moment, was it worth it? Was knowing the truth worth sacrificing everything she wanted to believe? Was being right more important than being blissfully ignorant? More important than being happy? The answer in her head was a resounding yes, and so she pushed open the door.
No one on the other side was ready, especially not Hopper, who sat on the worn out couch amongst a pile of candy. "What are you doing here?" His shock was palpable, his eyebrows rising exceedingly high on his forehead.
Ana had zero interest in answering his question. Hopper was the one who needed to provide justification for his actions, not her.
A television playing from behind the closed bedroom door drew her attention away from him, though. "Who else is here?" Ana demanded, making her way further into the cabin. The front door slammed shut behind her, rocking the small structure.
Hopper was on his feet instantly, trying to stop her progression towards the bedroom door with his body. "No one," he insisted, his voice sounding of a barely contained frenzy.
Bullshit! This place was lived in. There were two places set at the dining room table. This wasn't a residence he visited alone, Ana was sure of it. She tried to sidestep him, but Hopper followed each way she went. They were locked in a erratic dance of deterrence. "I swear to god, Hop, if you don't move I'll fucking make you!"
Could Ana physically overpower him? Definitely not, but she was certain a well-aimed punch to the junk would grant her a few seconds of leeway. At least she'd evade him long enough to discover exactly what he was hiding in the other room.
The sudden commotion in the living room eventually drew out the mysterious third party. Ana wasn't sure exactly what she had been expecting, likely another women he was having an affair with behind her back, but it damn well wasn't the girl who had been presumed dead for the better part of a year.
But, there Eleven was, not standing more than a few feet away from her in the doorway. Her hair was longer, that was the first thing Ana noted. "Eleven?" She questioned in utter confusion. How? Why? And, more importantly, when?
The younger girl ran to her and wrapped her arms around Ana's waist. Probably just happy to see someone, anyone, from the outside world.
The action caused Hopper to snap, and he swiftly ripped the two women away from each other before rounding on Ana. "You need to leave now!"
There wasn't a chance Ana was leaving, not after discovering what he'd been hiding in the cabin all this time. "How long has she been here? How long have you known she was alive?" There was no way around it, Ana was screaming by that point. Had there been any neighbors within miles, they'd be calling the cops to report a domestic disturbance about now.
Hopper didn't answer, instead, turning a back on his girlfriend in a vain attempt to block her and her tangible anger out for a moment. At least long enough to think of his next step. She wasn't giving him any respite, though, as her anger was firmly planted in the driver's seat.
With all the strength she could muster, Ana pushed Hopper's back, so much so that he stumbled into the adjacent wall. "You fucking asshole. You, you-" Ana Thompson, who knew more about the English language than probably anyone in Indiana, couldn't find the words to quantify this betrayal. She floundered like a fish out of water, gasping, searching for any way to express her disgust and devastation, but none came to her.
If words were going to fail her, then at least she still had actions. Breathing heavily, Ana turned away from Hopper and grabbed Eleven's hand, pulling her along towards the front door. "We're leaving."
For a large guy, Hopper sure moved quickly because he was blocking the door before she could reach the handle. "No, you're fucking not," he said, using his body as a barricade. He swelled in fury, his stature consuming the entire doorframe.
"You're not keeping her here like some prisoner!" God, did Ana want to punch him in the face, but she wasn't willing to drop Eleven's hand.
"I'm keeping her safe," he tried to defend while yelling back.
"Safe from what? From me?" And that's when it hit her, why Ana was so furious. Hopper lying about Eleven, keeping her existence a secret, meant that Hopper hadn't trusted her. That somewhere in his mind, he saw her as a threat to the girl's safety. That took some of the wind out of Ana's sails, but not much.
"What, did you think I'd turn her in? Sell the kid out or some shit?" Her volume was still loud, but her tone was less angry, more hurt than anything.
"You're not a parent. You wouldn't understand." That was it, the final nail in the coffin.
Ever since Ana had reached her mid-twenties people had looked down on her for not having children. Like, somehow, being selective about procreating was an undesirable quality that she possessed. Hearing the same judgment then, coming for the person she thought she loved, was all too much. Her throat tightened, a lump having formed which stripped her of the air she so desperately needed. Is this what drowning on dry land felt like?
Ana tried to breath through her nose, the air sounded sharp going in, but she still felt like she was suffocating. The walls were closing in, along with a bleakness she couldn't understand. She took and involuntary step back and her eyes swept the room. Looking, but seeing nothing.
You're the fool again, whispered the voice inside her head.
It was right.
"You're a real piece of shit, you know that?" Ana wanted the words to sound vicious, biting, even, but they came out strangled. More broken than brutal, and she hated him for making her that way. Ana Thompson hated Jim Hopper for turning her into someone weak, but she hated herself more for granting him the power to do so.
She'd regained enough clarity to see that there was no winning in this situation, no outcome where she'd be allowed to leave the cabin with Eleven alongside her. Ana would have to concede. Tuck her tail and retreat in shame. For tonight, at least.
Dropping down to her knees, Ana pulled Eleven into the tightest hug imaginable, muttering, "I'll get you out of here soon," into her ear, only loud enough for the two of them to hear.
Once she was back on her feet, Ana turned towards Hopper who still stood firmly in the doorway. "This isn't over, but this," she gestured between the two of them, "sure is." Then, she hazarded one last sympathetic glance back at Eleven before pushing past Hopper, out the door, and out into the cold night air.
I giveth and I taketh away.