Time After Time (a Stranger Things fanfiction)

Rescue Me

"Rescue Me"

'Cause I'm lonely

And I'm blue

I need you

And your love, too

C'mon and rescue me

- Fontella Bass

"Another strange kid? Come on, Phil, people are seeing things," Hopper said firmly. "Just tell them there's nothing in the woods and let it go."

Phil frowned. "I don't know, Chief. That kid the Walsh boy said broke his arm ... We never found her."

"She never existed. The Walsh kid was out there messing around, doing stuff he didn't want his mother to know about, and he made something up to keep from getting in trouble. If my mom had called the cops every time I lied to her—"

"Yeah. Okay. I guess you're right, Chief. Hey, don't forget the party." Phil backed out of the office and closed the door.

As soon as the door was closed, Hopper reached into a drawer and got out his map, marking the new site. She was circling town, afraid to come too close. She must be freezing. And starving.

He'd been hearing reports of a strange kid out in the woods for a couple of weeks now, and he was increasingly convinced it had to be Eleven. The kids had said she disappeared, but they had never seen a body, so they assumed she'd gone into the Upside Down. Mike had been pestering him about it, wanting him to get Hawkins Lab to re-open the gate and look for her, and Hopper had talked him down. If Mike thought she was dead, it would be easier for him to move on—and harder for Hawkins Lab to find her if she was really out there somewhere.

Hopper made his way through the office holiday party, grabbing a Tupperware full of treats, and then ducked out into the cold. He wished he could give her some hot food, something more nourishing—but he had to find her first, and then he had to get her to trust him. She was a smart kid, she had probably figured out that he'd traded her location for the ability to go get Will as soon as Hawkins Lab showed up at the school. She'd likely be skittish around him—or anyone.

She would trust Joyce, he was sure, but he was reluctant to tell Joyce Eleven had survived. He told himself it was to protect Joyce, to allow her time to focus on Will's recovery ... but he knew it was more than that, and worse, that he was being selfish, that he wanted to save and protect Eleven all on his own. Something about her big brown eyes, the shaved head ... If Sara had lived ...

He cleared his throat, climbing into the car and lighting a cigarette. This wasn't about Sara, he told himself firmly. This was about Eleven.

In the woods, he put the goodies from the party and a package of Eggos into a box he'd placed there, closing it tightly so animals couldn't get at it. If Phil's report was to be believed, she was around here somewhere.

He wanted to linger, but she wasn't going to come out if he was around.

Making his way back to the woods, he had just reached the car when he heard a sound behind him. He turned—and there she was.

He took off his hat instinctively. "Hey."

"Hey."

"You ... all right?"

She nodded solemnly, but he could see her shivering. After a moment, she said, "Mike?"

"Yeah, he's fine."