She looks up at him, smiling warmly even as she's trying not to cry. She holds his wrists, her hands barely able to come up out of the too-long sleeves of her too-big jacket. He takes in the sight of her, and she does the same: it's only been a week, but he looks older, somehow, and less sad.

And when he hugs her tight, the first, most immediate thing she notes is that he's also a little skinnier.

But that isn't important right now. Right now, Hopper is hugging her, and she's hugging him back, and for the first time in a week, Eleven feels like this place could be good, not just okay.