For Hopper

[already_lost]

She'd never gone to his apartment before.

It hadn't been a conscious decision on her part, but they always seemed to cross paths by accident. On the street. At parties. Neutral ground. Turning up at his door, where he lived with his daughter, seemed now like crossing some kind of unspoken line.

But she needed to see him. She needed to see someone, and while she'd considered seeking out Eponine, she knew that the only person who could really understand her in that moment would be him.

Approaching the callbox outside his building, she was gripped by a sudden, irrational fear. What if he was gone, too?

Bundled against the cold, she pressed the button, waiting for his answer. "Hopper, are you there?"

Comments

[something_incredible]

Beverly is out right now, an appointment with her therapist, so Hopper is alone when the buzzer by the door goes and he pulls himself away from the TV, having not been paying much attention to begin with. For the last ten minutes or so, he'd been considering getting his coat on and heading out to the bar at the end of the block, getting himself a drink.

But then Beverly would smell it on him when she got home. That's the only thought that's kept him in front of the TV for this long. The buzz and the familiar voice are more than enough to get his attention, to make him forget about whatever stupid show he's watching and to forget that he wants a drink. At least for now.

"Yeah," he says, jabbing his thumb against the button that will open the door. "Yeah, hey, I'm here. Come up."