eggos | (no subject)

Entry tags:

hopper

(no subject)

Hopper kept his promise, just like he always does: he'd found somewhere private, somewhere that didn't belong to anyone, to let El practice her powers. The trick is that there aren't a large amount of heavy objects here, and that's what she'd wanted the junkyard for: there were plenty of heavy things to test and exercise the limits of what she can do.

Here, there's just rocks.

There are a lot of them, though, scattered all around the area and extending into a sort of natural pier into the water. Further towards the dunes, two or three trees are half buried in the sand, like they'd drifted up on the surf decades ago. She bites her lip, then looks at Hop.

"I can move the rocks?" she asks. She'd been learning in science class about ecosystems and where and how creatures make homes in specific places. Does he know about them? Had he looked into it already?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"We're gonna stay away from the rocks over there," he says, waving his hand out toward the water. There's probably a reason they're out there, either something to do with the sea creatures or maybe even a person shaped it all, but he wants to avoid messing with it if they can.

"But here... nothin' really lives here," he tells her, nodding at the rocks along the beach. "Including people, so I don't think we're gonna piss anyone off if you start movin' shit around."

El tries to contain her smile, but it peeks out in her eyes all the same. The rocks that she's allowed to move are all different sizes, and she starts small, to get a feel for them.

Sometimes, her powers feel like a hand she can't see: grabbing, or pushing, or throwing. She knows it's there, can sort of feel what she's holding, but it isn't the same as her body. The first rock is solid, dense, but easy to lift all the same. She doesn't even get a nosebleed.

"Unless that witch thinks this part of the beach belongs to her, too," Hopper says in a playfully thoughtful tone as he watches Eleven easily lift a rock. It's a sizeable thing, but it doesn't even look like it's much work for her and Hopper understands why she's been wanting to practice.

"How long can you keep it up?" he asks.

That's an interesting question. Eleven has never really tried to hold things in the air. There was that one time she'd levitated down the sidewalk, when she and Nathan had smoked that skunky smelling stuff, but that hadn't been intentional.Most of the time, she just throws things around, or quickly tosses a door or window closed.

She looks at him, then at the rock.

"I don't know," she admits.

"Then I think we gotta find out, don't we?" he asks. "I can time you."

Time was, he'd use a real stopwatch for something like that. Now he just pulls his phone out of his pocket and finds the app he knows can do stuff like that.

"You want to start fresh?" he asks, looking at her. "Set it down, get ready, and then start the timer?"

She nods, taking this as seriously as any other test she's ever taken. The rock settles on the ground gently, and she adjusts her stance. Then she lifts the rock again, trusting Hop to start the timer.

Hopper watches as he times her, making sure it isn't too much. He knows how strong she is, he's seen proof of it over and over again, but she's still his kid and he doesn't want her to hurt herself over a bit of a test.

It's just practice. Practice isn't worth getting injured over.

"You good?" he calls.

El nods again. It feels weird to just hold the rock in the air, so she starts spinning it, as well. Slowly, at first, and then a little faster, she twirls the rock in place, making sure it stays at the same level in the air. She can feel the strain after only a moment. This is dividing her focus just enough that it feels like real practice.

"When you get to the end of it, right when you think you gotta let it go, throw it," he says, still watching. "Out into the water, as far as you can."

There probably aren't any animals this close to shore and any that do hang about are likely quick enough to get out of the way of a heavy rock before it hits them. Fish are fast, he figures.

She nods. That's easy enough, she thinks. She continues twirling the rock, at as close to the same pace as she can. It isn't long, though, before she feels it start to waver in her psychic grasp. Blood begins to trickle from her nose, but she pushes herself to hold it a little longer. She grits her teeth. She has to throw it.

With a grunt, she does, both arms swinging towards the water as she sends the rock flying. It's not nearly as far as she would like, but it feels like real practice, and that's what she's here for.

He hates that her nose is bleeding. Hates that this thing she can do, as impressive and powerful as it is, can hurt her even in some small way. Trying not to let this show, Hopper pulls a tissue from his pocket and crosses to where Eleven is standing.

"Damn, kid," he says with a bit of a grin, offering her the tissue.

If she can do that without too much effort, even with other things Hopper has seen her do, he can't imagine how much more she has in her.

El looks up at him, and she takes the tissue to wipe her nose, smiling small and pleased.

"It feels good to practice," she says. "I don't bleed as much as I used to." And she's been practicing finding her friends, too, making sure they're okay. She still can't Look outside of Darrow, but at least she can still Look.

"Practice makes perfect, huh?" he asks, glad to see her looking pleased with herself. It still makes him nervous, all this shit, knowing he can't protect her in the end, not really. But all the same, he wants her to be able to take care of herself.

"So what's next?" he asks. "You think you can find that same boulder you just threw out there and bring it back?"

Her eyebrows tip up in surprise at the suggestion, and then she smiles. Of course she can bring it back. In the same way that she can find Dustin's robots and toys from the next room, she can find the rock again, amidst the water. She closes her eyes and holds out one hand, and there. It rises up out of the water, the ocean rushing to fill the newly emptied space. A fish smacks against the top of the boulder, too slow to move out of its way, and then flops off the edge and back into the water.

El narrows her eyes, and she spins the boulder upside down, making sure no other sea creatures were accidentally airlifted from their homes, then holds the rock in place in the air, looking at Hop expectantly.

"What're you lookin' at me for?" he asks, nodding his head toward the beach. "Put your toys back where you found 'em."

He's not grinning, but it's a close thing, the smile lighting up his eyes as he looks at her. She's good at this, he's known that for as long as he's known her, it's nothing new. There's just something different about seeing it at work like this, seeing it in a context without a constant threat to their lives and their home. She's just a kid practicing this skill she's already really damn good at.

Somehow it's still normal despite being completely unusual. It makes Hopper feel good.

Eleven grins at him, but she turns her attention back to the rock. She's much more careful as she guides it back to the gaping hole in the sand where it'd once been. She lowers it, then sort of twists it back into the ground. If she puts it in too lightly, it might roll and hurt someone, but she doesn't want to slam it down, either. The twisting motion sort of half-buries it, like it was before. Once she's done, she reaches up with the tissue to wipe the fresh dribble of blood off her face.

"Again?" she asks, this time pointing to a different rock.

She's so careful putting the rock back that Hopper feels a weird surge of pride. Not only is Eleven powerful, but she's a good kid, too, and somehow, through some stroke of luck, he's had a hand in that.

She's better than he is, that's for sure.

"Yeah, if you want," he agrees. "We can do this for as long as you want or until you get tired."

That earns a grin, and Eleven turns to focus on the new boulder. It's close enough to the same size, and when she lifts it, sand falls from a deep crevice in it. It rains down into the hole left behind in the ground. She lifts one hand to stabilize her focus.

She bites her lip, and starts bobbing the rock up and down in the air. Like the suicide drills she sees football players at school do, the arcs get farther and farther apart, until she has to tighten them back up again or else risk the rock hitting the ground.

It feels like an exercise in finer control, and she likes that, too.

Even though he's seen it before, it never stops being incredible, these things Eleven can do. Hopper watches as she controls the rock, watches as she takes it through a series of arcs, and then returns back the other way.

"Does it help?" he asks, still watching. "Does it feel like... I dunno, kid, lifting weights? Like you're strengthening a muscle?"

She glances at him, a small smile forming, and she nods. "I think so," she says. "Like exercise." It reminds her a lot of doing the stretches and exercises in gym class, actually.

She turns the boulder over in the air, controlling its speed and spin for a moment and stopping its arcing. It almost hurts, doing that, a strain she's unfamiliar with, and she realizes she'll have to do that more, too, practice that to get better at it.

Blood drips from her nose, and she frowns.

"Don't push yourself too hard," Hopper warns. "Part of building a muscle is letting it rest, so it can heal. Rebuild stronger than before."

He's not sure of the comparison is apt, because they know so little about Eleven's powers. What he's saying might not apply to her at all or it might be deeply necessary, even more than it is for regular muscles. He has no idea. He just knows he doesn't want her getting hurt.

She nods, and lowers the rock down to the ground, not in its hole but near it. She's not done with it yet, but she does want to take a little break. She wipes her nose again, then pockets the tissue.

"I want to see how big the hole is," she says, starting towards the crater left behind by lifting the rock. It's not an enormous rock, but it's still bigger than either of them. They always look so much smaller when they're in the ground.

"Yeah, I think I've had just about enough of holes in the ground," Hopper answers in a dry voice, although he follows Eleven toward the crater all the same. It is pretty incredible, the hole left behind, the way the sand has caved in to fill some of it.

"You could camp out in there," he says. "Stretch a tarp over the top, weigh it down, just have a nice nap in the warm sand. You wanna try?"

He makes a gesture as if he's going to grab her and drag her down into the crater with him.

She gasps and darts away from him, laughing a little. "No!" But honestly, the idea of camping out on the beach, being able to look up at the stars, sounds like a lot of fun. Something she could do by choice, instead of out of necessity.

"What if there's an Upside Down, down there?" she asks. It's supposed to be a joke, but she leans forward, eyebrows creasing in concern as she tries to peer over the sagging lip of the hole.

"I think maybe we'd know it already," he answers. The Upside Down is different from some of the other things Darrow has thrown at them. It's a world with a vested interest in this girl right in front of him and he thinks, if it existed, it would have tried to come for her already.

But they've been safe and he's not sorry about that.

"Between you and some of the other folks here, I feel like you'd sense it or something," he says.

She nods slowly, still looking down into the hole. She thinks he's right. If Darrow has an Upside Down, there's no Gate it can use to come out, and so she can't feel it.

"Look," she says, pointing down into the hole. There's something there, a piece of broken wood, maybe. It's hard to make out with the sand slowly cascading around it, her weight pushing it down grain by grain. All she can really see is a point, like the sharp corner of a square.

"Pull it out," Hopper suggests. "Let's see what kinda trash we've got buried in the sand."

He figures it'll be a broken bit of board. Something that washed up from the ocean or a pallet some kids used for a fire once. Whatever it is, it can't be that interesting, but it gives Eleven something else to practice with.

Eleven nods at him, then returns her gaze to the block of wood sticking out of the sand. She lifts it, carefully, her powers holding onto it so she doesn't have to climb into the crater. It's bigger than she'd initially thought: it's not just a plank, but a whole box, strangely heavier than it looks. She carries it over to Hopper's feet and sets it down, then carefully backs away from the edge so she can go stand beside him.

"Well that ain't just a bit of broken wood," Hopper says, looking at the box with interest. This all seems a little too buried treasure, but hell, in Darrow, anything is possible.

"We gotta open it, right?" he asks, looking over at Eleven. It seems like she ought to do the honours. She was the one to find the box, after all, and the one who did all the work to get it out of the sand.

El smiles and looks down at the box. The wood is damp, crusted in places with sand and she-doesn't-know-what-else. She kneels next to it, feeling for a seam or a latch. It isn't like the buried treasure from books, in ornate chests with huge locks and golden keys. This is a crate, like the kind you can buy at a 'rustic' store, but with a lid, which she realizes quickly is nailed in place.

She looks up at him, looking a little hesitant.

"I think I have to break it," she says.

"That's okay," he says. If someone cared about this box, they shouldn't have left it buried on the beach, he thinks, and since they found it, it's theirs to break. Or it's Eleven's to break anyway.

"Bust it up, kid," he encourages. "Let's see what's inside."

Probably something gross, like rotting fish. Hopefully not anything too gross, like rotting human pieces. The thought occurs to Hopper too late, though.

Eleven nods, this time grinning. She turns her focus to the box again. The wood creaks as her powers pull it against the nails, but it's nothing compared to the rocks from earlier. It snaps, wood cracking and splintering, and she throws out one hand to make sure none of the shards fly at her or Hopper. She tosses the broken chunks aside, leaving the top more or less opened, and she leans over to look inside.

"What the shit..."

Hopper leans over, staring at what's been exposed. No rotting fish, no rotting human parts, just a bunch of what looks like old stuff, for lack of a better term. There are coins, tarnished and aged, as well as a strange looking mug that has some small jewels set into its base.

"Did you just find real goddamn treasure?" he asks, looking at Eleven.

El looks down into it beside him, eyes going big. She's read plenty about pirate treasure, or what people think is pirate treasure. She reaches out to touch the mug, but stops herself and looks at Hopper warily.

"I don't know," she admits. She looks into it again, then grabs one of the lid shards to see if there's any writing on the inside. If it belongs to someone, they shouldn't steal it, right?

Hopper reaches down as well, his fingers hooking on what looks to be a gold necklace. It's tarnished and scratched, but he's pretty sure it's real gold and he turns it over in his hands before looking at Eleven.

"Shit, kid," he says with a laugh. "I'm pretty sure this is real."

The idea of it being pirate treasure is fucking absurd, but so is this whole goddamn place.

He touches the necklace, so El grabs the mug and turns it over in her hands. It feels surprisingly heavy, crusted slightly with sand that had leaked into the crate, probably before the moisture made it swell shut. The inside is musty and a little dirty, too, but otherwise empty. She sets it aside and reaches in again, this time to grab a handful of tangled bracelets. Some of them have sparkling gems and some are simple chains with shaped charms.

"What do we do with it?" she asks. "Who does it belong to?" Like the junkyard, she thinks that probably they won't be allowed to keep any of this, because even if it's been abandoned here, it might still belong to someone else.

"Damned if I know," he answers. "It looks old, like it hasn't been touched in a long time."

Hopper isn't sure what to do with it. Anyone else would just take the whole damn box and he's tempted to do the same, but he's also got an impressionable kid right here in front of him and it's his responsibility to teach her right from wrong.

"We should take it in to the station," he says. "See if there's been anything reported lost."

It feels special, and interesting, and fun that they've found this, them, without help or a map or anything. It was purely luck, but it's still theirs, a moment they'll have forever.

Even if she does feel a little sad that Hop wants to turn it in to the police station. She takes a picture of it with her phone, and a picture of the hole it came out of, and then says, "Okay," and tries hard not to sound disappointed.

She knows it's the right thing, even if it isn't fun.

"Chances are low someone's reported this lost," Hopper says. "I dunno all the legalities surrounding this kinda thing, but I figure we might get to keep it in the end."

He's not really sure how that works, he'll have to ask someone else at the station, but that's how it happens in movies. It's kind of stupid, Hopper thinking about how things are done in movies when he's a detective himself, but he works in homicide, not lost treasure.

"But we should make sure, first," El says, "so we're not accidentally stealing." The idea that they might get to keep a buried treasure excites her, and she's not even sure why. She's not sure what they'd do with it, if they're supposed to clean it and keep it, or sell it for money. Part of her doesn't want to ever get rid of it, even if it meant having more money afterwards.

Even though Hopper could probably use money, and if El had more money, she could buy more clothes and magazines.

"I want to take a picture of it," she decides. Because if she's never going to see it again, she wants to be able to prove to herself, outside of her memory, that it exists.

"Take a bunch," he encourages. "I'm gonna want to see what we gave up if it never comes back."

Somehow, though, he's got this weird sense it will. He doesn't know why, but maybe for once in his life, he feels like he's actually lucky. Maybe they both are.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only