evil hour | stranger things

three: early sunrise

"What do you mean how do I know about Brenner?" Jim asked, a much more confused yet also impatient look on his features.

"Does he know I'm here?" she jumped, sitting up straighter as an accusatory look settled itself on her features. It was difficult to see her clearly with all of the mud and blood on her face, but Jim squinted and tried.

"No. Kid, Brenner's dead."

The girl exhaled through her nose, a doubtful glint in her eyes as she parted her lips to speak but no such words came out. "He... He's not dead, I saw him!" she whispered harshly, cautious to not yell as he refrained himself from doing so too.

Jim rubbed his eyes, shaking his head. How did he get into another mess with another kid? Why was there someone connected to Brenner in his house, bloodied up, scared and shaken? Why did she have a gun?

"Okay, listen... It's late. How about you wash up?" he motioned towards the bathroom, "You can, uh... Sleep here, I guess. We'll talk in the morning."

She watched him get up in front of her. As he walked into his bedroom, she was quick to grab her gun, but was more than dissapoinemt to see it had been emptied from its ammunition.

"You didn't think I'd leave a gun around with a kid in the house, did you?" he said, walking into the living room.

"I'm not a kid, chief."

"I wasn't talking about you. Go wash up. But, if I see or hear you doing something stupid, I'll take care of this problem the only way I know how. Got it?"

The look in his eye was serious, dead serious. Jim Hopper wasn't joking around, and he might've been a little scarier than she gave him credit for.

"Yes, chief."

~  ~  ~

The orange rays of the sun blasted themselves through the windows, almost blinding her as she sat up in the comfortable chair. She barely got used to sleeping somewhere other than her previous place, but at least Hopper's cabin was quiet and peaceful.

She sat herself up, tucking her feet underneath herself and the blanket he gave her last night.
Jim fell asleep before he got to see her without any mud or blood on her face. She managed to sneakily find a first aid kit and stitched herself up where she could. Unfortunately, the bump on her head wouldn't go away as soon as she planned it to. There was bruising around her left temple and at the corner of her right eye, but at least she popped her nose back into place.

As cruel of a method as it was, the training routines she learned kept her alive.

It seemed as if she were the only one awake in the cabin. The door to her right was closed. She wondered if the chief lived alone, or with someone. He did mention a kid. Who was he reffering to?

Her stomach growled and she placed her hand over it, unsure whether it would be wrong to rummage through his food before he woke up. Then again, his threat was pretty scary.

She pulled up the large pair of pyjamas he had given her and tucked down the old and worn out navy shirt on her body. Stepping outside on the porch, it was freezing, but no longer raining. The trees had some fog around them and certain places of the ground were invisible due to it.

The door behind her creaked open, but she had already heard Jim's footsteps before he even reached the handle.

"Trying to freeze to death?"

Her eyes closed as she inhaled a breath of fresh air, feeling her cheeks turn red, "This is the first time I've been out in months. Maybe it's been a year, I'm not sure... I haven't felt the cold in a long time."

He remained quiet, staring at the back of her head as she held her elbows and slowly turned back around, walking past him in the cabin. She sniffed from the freezing temperatures, rubbing her arms to keep warm.

"I wanted to say... Uh... Thank you..?" she hesitated as she stared at his back, watching him make coffee for himself in the kitchen.

"You're welcome."

The girl sat back down on the chair, pulling the blanket over her legs and playing with the loose strings.
Her eyes fell upon the warm mug in his hand, a string with a small piece of paper dangling from the side as the teabag floated in the water. She took it from him, watching him sit across from her.

"I'm gonna ask you some questions. Unless you want to find your way back to where you came from, I suggest answering."

She nodded, watching the water in her mug turn red from the tea.

"What's your name?"

"Rowan." she said, "I just learned it yesterday, actually." he heard her whisper, pressing her lips in a thin line.

"How old are you?"

"17. I think... I'm supposed to be turning 18 somewhere next year."

"You don't know your age?" Hopper asked, raising a brow.

"No," she shook her head, "Like I said, I just learned my name yesterday."

He took in a breath through his nose, "Did you go by a number, by any chance?"

"No, we went by code names. The other ones went by numbers." she said, twirling the string of the teabag with her fingers.

The other ones? Was she coming from Brenner's lab? But how could she? The lab wasn't in his hands anymore. If there was her, there were others too.
Jim couldn't help but ask more questions in his head, but knew it'd be too soon to ask for answers. Right now, he needed basic information.

"What code name did you get?"

"Relict. I don't know how they came up with them. But, it's kind of like aviators. You know, they have call signs."

Hopper nodded slowly, "Yeah..."

He sat in silence with her for a moment, watching her as her fingers twirled the string and let it unwrap before repeating the same action. He couldn't help but notice how she had bandaged herself up; a bandaid on her cheekbone and temple, the bruising around her eye and nose and the small bandaid on her lip. For a moment, he beat himself up for leaving her alone like that last night. Not because he didn't trust her yet, but because she was left to do it on her own.

As he watched her hands, he noticed the scarred skin all over them. She had risen skin tissue, some still new and others healed but definitely wouldn't be going away any time soon.
He finally was able to see what she looked like underneath all that blood and dirt; deep brown eyes with long lashes, lips that were the right size for her face, thick brows and long hair. It was an interesting colour — brown but also red in certain lighting.

"Do you know any nearby motels?" she broke his trance, already looking at him when he raised his stare.

"Motels? What for?"

"Well, I... I wasn't planning on staying. I just needed somewhere for the night."

Hopper took in a deep breath. He'd been battling his thoughts all night on it — let her stay, help her, or let her out in the world and watch as a news reporter talks about how she was found dead somewhere.

"You can stay. You don't have to leave."