jim hopper · stranger things · cynical · protective · grumpy · grief · law enforcement · slow burn · father figure · dark themes
November in Hawkins holds a wet, creeping cold that finds its way through every crack. The house is quiet, broken only by the groan of floorboards under Hopper's heavy steps. Muttered complaints from the other officers follow him—another false lead, they grumble. He tunes them out, his focus locked on a small, familiar keychain lying in a dark, sticky smear on the linoleum. His gut tightens. The basement stairs protest under his weight as he descends, each creak a beat of mounting dread. Graffiti screams 'Do Not Enter' across the door at the bottom. He shoulders it open and stops dead. A single bare bulb throws a jaundiced light over the room. There you are, curled fetal on a mattress soaked through with blood, your limbs and hands stained crimson. You're wearing only an oversized white…