Shutter [Jonathan Byers] Stranger Things I

XLIV: Alarm

a·larm

noun

an anxious awareness of danger.

In the comfort of Hopper's home, Emilia tidied up a bit while she made herself something to eat. She made enough for Hopper to eat too, if he came home hungry, or if he came home at all. It wasn't until she was alone that Emilia felt relaxed. Although Jonathan's presence typically brought her to a calm state, it was alone in a house where she knew that she would be completely safe from everything and everyone that she felt she could breathe. Hopper wasn't there, of course, and she wondered if he would come home at all that night. Instead of worrying too much about it -especially as he'd said he'd be out- she took to the couch and buried herself beneath the blankets.

Before she fell asleep, she thought about the idea of going out and actually searching for this monster with Jonathan and Nancy. It all sounded so ridiculous even in her own mind that she scoffed slightly, rolling onto her side so that she was facing the windows overlooking the driveway. It seemed like weeks since she'd been in that place, the place where she had heard Will. He was asking for help, and Emilia still ached that she couldn't do anything to save him. Reminding herself that she alone couldn't do it, but that she was taking initiative now, it brought her a sense of gratification. Taking a deep breath, she expelled the negative thoughts.

In a light stage of sleep, Emilia woke to the sound of gravel underneath tires. Hopper was home, and she pulled the blanket further up to brace for the cold that would come when the door opened. The weight of it had fallen to the floor, and hardly any of it had remained on her. Trying to fall back asleep proved impossible as there was a loud thumping just outside the door. This was familiar to Emilia, as she'd heard her father thump as he came home drunk all the time. But this was Hopper, and while he wasn't a straight-edge cookie-cutter sort of guy, she didn't think the sheriff would come home raging drunk. Not even after officially closing a case on a dead kid.

Emilia sat up in alarm as she heard voices talking, muttering. Two voices. Something wasn't right about that, and so Emilia got up from the couch and ducked in the kitchen, where she could still see the front door but could hide if she needed to. She wasn't sure what made her this frightened, but her gut feeling told her to stay hidden. When the door opened at last after much fumbling, two men entered the small trailer with Hopper in tow. He was unconscious, arms draped over their shoulders and feet scraping the ground as they brought him into the house. Emilia's heart hammered in her chest as she watched them, her head barely visible from over the counter.

"Looks like he sleeps on the couch," one man muttered, reaching his hand out to point, and then grunting as he readjusted to get a better hold on Hopper. Dead weight was the worst, Emilia had recalled when she watched Hopper bring her dad into her own home before. Back then, Emilia never thought she would have ended up here, watching that very man being unconsciously brought home. Was he drunk? Did these men find him at some bar and decide to be good citizens and bring him home? No- something just wasn't right.

Suit and Tie, as Emilia began to call them in her head, brought Hopper to the couch and basically threw him down. Suit brought his feet up so that they weren't on the floor, and then they both brushed their hands clean as though Hopper was something they didn't want to touch. Tie pulled a duffle bag off of his shoulder, one Emilia hadn't even noticed it until then. Placing it on the ground, he opened it up and began pulling out all sorts of things Emilia couldn't see from where she was hiding. Deciding it was safer to remain fully hidden, Emilia ducked down and sat against the cupboards, looking for a safe place to hide.

"What was that?" One of the men asked.

"What?" The other muttered casually, as though he didn't really care.

"I heard something. He got a cat or something?"

"How the hell should I know if he has a cat?" The banter sounded as though they fought frequently about trivial things.

"This guy's breaking into the lab, he's on to things, and you didn't do a damn background check?"

"Why would it state if he had a cat on his background check?"

"Never mind, I'll just take a look," he grumbled back, then added, "Jerk."

"I heard that. Let's hurry up and get out of here."

Emilia knew that she was going to be spotted. Hiding behind a counter was great when no one was after her, but for a possible dangerous game of hide and seek, it was not a good spot. She eyed up the pantry, but knew she couldn't get there in time. Footsteps were nearing her, and she had to do something before she was spotted too. Beside her was the cupboards under the sink, and she opened it quickly, thankful that the hinges made no noise. Sliding herself in, she hid beside the garbage can, holding her breath to fend off the smell and to prevent the men from hearing her. She slowly closed the cupboard door and let the darkness and bad smell overwhelm her. Silent inside the tiny cupboard, head arched painfully, she waited and listened.

The footsteps stopped a few feet away from her. Heavy breathing; the man was still tired from lugging Hopper around. He had no reason to suspect that she was hiding, but Emilia still covered her mouth to completely ensure that she was silent. Then, the footsteps faded, and she let out a breath of semi-relief. She listened carefully to what was going on, and she heard pill bottles rattling, a few pieces of metal scraping against something- what? She feared for herself but she also feared for Hopper just as much. Whoever these men were, and whatever lab they were talking about, Emilia had a feeling it had something to do with Will and the monster. Did that mean Hopper wasn't buying it either, did he know something? Emilia was starting to wonder how many people actually knew about what was going on, but no one dared say anything about it in fear of being considered crazy. Conspiracy theorists were all crazy.

"There," one of the men said, "It's in place. Let's get outta here."

"I swear I heard something," the other one mumbled.

"More reason to get moving."

"You think this guy's going to buy any of this? That he took too many pills?"

"It's not about him forgetting, it's about people not believing him if he opens his mouth about any of this."

The door to the trailer slammed shut, and it wasn't until about five minutes after the vehicle was gone and out of earshot that Emilia opened the cupboard door. Sliding out onto the kitchen floor, she glanced around to ensure that she was safe, then reached for a knife from the block on the counter. Gripping it close, even though she didn't think there was anything to fight, she shakily rose to her feet. Spotting Hopper on the couch, she walked up to him and wondered if he was still alive. The pill bottles that rattled made her nervous; had they made an overdose look accidental? No. They had said the pills were to make his opinions invalid. Still, Emilia found herself searching for a pulse, listening for his breath.

Convinced that he was alive, although not so well, Emilia flopped down in the chair, gripping the knife in her sweaty palm. With her free hand she pushed back her loose brown hair and shook her head, "What the hell is going on, Hopper?"

Of course, there was no reply.

She curled up on the chair and stared at the door, waiting for someone to come back and find her. It wasn't going to happen, and she knew it, but she couldn't help but feel protective over someone who was vulnerable right then. Hopper couldn't defend himself should anyone or anything come back, but Emilia ended up falling asleep quite quickly. Sleep consumed her, but also plagued her with worry and nightmares of what was going to happen. Monsters and missing children.

This safe place was no longer safe.

Question of the day, has the story slowed down too much? What do you guys want to see?