February, 1983
"Sweetie, who is Beth Tompkins?"
Teresa looked up from the VHS player she was fixing for her parents, clamping her teeth on the screwdriver as she stared back at Diane with confusion swimming in her blue eyes. Her mother immediately recognised her ex-husband in them, but managed to put the minor heartbreak aside.
"Tompkins?" Teresa mumbled around the handle of the screwdriver. At her mother's raised eyebrows, she spit out the tool onto her lap, and repeated her question. "I don't know a Tompkins."
"Well, the letter is addressed to you, Tompkins is the return address. Would you like me to open it?" she asked, but the girl shook her head and reached out for it.
"No, I can," she flashed her mother a comforting smile, and knowing her enough, Diane left her to read the letter in peace.
Checking for her parents to be away from the room, Teresa used the screwdriver to open up the envelope, before she unfolded the pages and started reading. With each line, her eyes opened wider, eyebrows getting closer to her hairline. Beth Tompkins reminded her of a name she'd accidentally stumbled upon at the Hargrove home. She was surprised to see she was correct.
Checking the time, she looked between the letter and the player in her lap, before she let out a brief huff, the air blowing her hair out of her face. Smoothly, she finished fixing the VHS player she'd already started on, reassembled it and placed it onto the shelf. As soon as everything was in its place and her parents could ask no questions, she pushed herself onto her feet and with a quick 'I'll be at the Hargrove place' call to her mother, she grabbed her keys and made her way over to her boyfriend's house.
The same boyfriend who she hadn't seen at school that day, who had conveniently disappeared for the afternoon. The same boyfriend whose window she was about to climb in through.
Her mistake was when she misjudged her step and fell into the room. The bang echoed through the floor, alerting the man of the house of the not so silent intruder.
"Get the hell out of my house."
Teresa's head snapped up at the low, boiling anger of a voice, and her blood froze in her veins.
"Mr Hargrove—"
"I said, get out."
His shoulders were squared, nostrils flaring, eyes throwing sparks. She saw this anger on a man only once before, when as a kid, somebody had laid a hand on her on a playground, and her father stepped in. There was nothing she found more tense than her father's protective instincts kicking in, but she could tell, this was not the same sort of anger. It wasn't a protective anger on Neil Hargrove's face.
"Neil—"
—Is not a patient man. Without waiting for her explanation, he stepped forward and grabbed onto her jacket, pulling her up from the floor and pushing her against the wall. All of this was accompanied by a snarl on his face, then once her feet were dangling from the ground, his hand around her throat, he started talking to her.
It was all in a low voice. Threatening, vicious. Malice dripped from his tone as her bitten nails claws at his hand, a desperate quality to her squirming. She didn't realise he was so strong. He just kept pushing.
She wasn't sure when she hit the floor, or when he left. But she allowed the darkness to consume her. It invited her into the fire with a blanket, away from the fear and aggression in the room that moulded into a tension fortified by the harsh words of Neil Hargrove.
The only thing that pulled her back was his son, Billy Hargrove himself as he fell onto his knees beside her, pulse and breaths weak but still present. Emotion overwhelmed him for the first time in years, knowing his father was well away from the house, and allowing himself the opportunity to release both his anger, and his fear.
With gentle hands, Billy reached down, lifting Teresa's body. "Tess, you gotta wake up, please," he begged with whispered words, his calloused hands gently shaking her, pushing strands of her unkempt hair from her cheek, wiping at the salt water washed black streaks under her eyes. It took several minutes of asking despite his tight throat. When Max and Susan arrived home, the kid barely caught a glance of her brother before he shut the door to his room.
When Teresa came to, it was to tears from both her and her boyfriend. The boy she'd done anything to protect. The boy who continued to lie through his teeth as she asked if his son of a bitch father ever laid a hand on him. She came to with ideas and fantasies of revenge. She came to with a fire burning in her chest that was everything that made her her father's daughter. Hopper protective instincts ran through her blood.
Young and reckless, the couple somehow made it back to Teresa's home, her step-mother and father welcoming Billy as if he was their own kid. She didn't even bat an eye at his professional charm, letting them know he was just hoping to help Teresa to bed. Yes, he'll leave the door open, of course. Oh, could they just get a glass of water? Susan and Neil say hi, by the way! No, he and Tess just had a tiring afternoon. They were in the sun for a little too long. Nothing bad. Yes, just very tired.
In the dark and silence of the room, Teresa lay on her back, staring up at the white ceiling. She noticed the chipping paint in the corner, the window letting in a gentle breeze that caressed the forming bruises on her neck.
No, Billy has absolutely never touched me like that. Please, he didn't do anything!
Not even a month later, having channeled her fear into the aforementioned protective instincts, Teresa Hopper replied to the letter of Beth Tompkins. And a week later, she was receiving more letters behind the bars of the South California Juvenile Detention Centre giving her all of the information she needed to plot her own revenge.
──────
July 4, 1985
Teresa had been lying to her friends all summer. She was a lot more clued in than she made it seem. Even to Steve, even to Billy. Even to Eleven.
The person she wasn't able to fool was one William Byers.
Will's eyes had followed Teresa the moment Lucas told her about the fireworks they'd picked up when they patched El up. He watched as her eyes widened in wonder, an odd shine reflecting as she reached into her pocket for the infamous zippo and the way her fingers tightened so her knuckles turned white.
He noticed the way her whole body lurched on her way out of the car, eyes clouding over and jaw tightening from the pain of the proximity of the Mind Flayer, the Flayed Billy, and the vision that overtook her mind's eye.
Will Byers even noticed as her hands habitually drifted to the bottom of her bag, something Dustin had passed back to her when they were picked up in the lift. He recognised the relief as her shoulders fell just a fraction as she touched something inside. The almost indiscernible nod to Nancy when they were still inside the mall before everything turned for the worse.
So when he noticed her shoulders fall as she touched the door handle before they made their way in, he reached forward, and took the hand down by her side. Teresa turned to Will, noticing the fear but also his attempt at making her feel better. She appreciated it.
Teresa took Will's hand, and the two of them pushed the door open, leading the others, to save their family, and their best friends.
***
oop, sorry kids, this story keeps
blowing up at points,
as has my life,
please be patient with me as
I try to wrap up this saga
(bc apparently every single part
doubles the length of the previous
and I'm sure s4 will be the same?
ffs i blame the duffer bros)
another update coming this week!
YOU ARE READING
Jailbird || Stranger Things
Fanfiction"You planned out a scrapyard showdown and didn't think to invite your friendly neighbourhood barbarian? I'm hurt." ☾ Before the vanishing of Will Byers, there was the strange case of Teresa Hopper. After the strange case of Will Byers, there was the...
