The house seemed off once Hopper was gone.
Not loud, yet not silent either - just tight. As if the atmosphere changed, thinned out, holding its breath for a break. Eli stayed put on the sofa, legs tucked in, fabric from his sweatshirt draping past his fingers, eyes locked on the entrance even though it shut minutes ago.
Will Byers had vanished.
He'd seen it coming. Yet seeing didn't mean he was ready. Like a storm rolling in, the start of things settled on his skin - damp, quiet, pressing hard. While waiting helped none, standing still made it worse.
The system's final words rang through him, steady as a beat
Cause: Initiation of canon events (Will Byers — Missing).
Recommendation: Maintain low presence. Observe without interference.
He breathed out slowly, unsteady.
"No trouble," he said quietly.
Yet what was the real meaning behind it?
He wouldn't just sprint off into the forest, no way. That'd be dumb. Staying out of trouble kept him alive. Even the System couldn't protect him from a Demogorgon.
Yet staying put, just watching life unfold like it did earlier - that seemed off somehow.
Will Byers turned twelve that year.
Just as old as he is.
Just as big, most likely.
Same easy-to-ignore presence.
Out there somewhere at this very moment, Will felt scared - by himself - in the icy blackness Eli once watched on a display.
Eli pulled his legs closer, arms wrapped tight.
The silence at home didn't feel calm now - just hollow. Not cozy, but bare. Felt exposed, even though nothing was wrong. Security meant little when the air hummed under his skin.
He pushed to take a breath. Slowly in. Then out.
Survivor's Instinct — active.
Emotional stabilization recommended.
The soft pull in his chest helped calm the rush of fear.
He just sat there - hard to say how long. Could've been minutes. Or closer to sixty. Time passed slow, till the sun through the blinds turned low and hazy.
He couldn't stop thinking about it - kept drifting there no matter what else happened
Why did Hopper tell him?
He didn't need to do that. Instead of being unclear, he chose clarity. Maybe he could've claimed a prior commitment. Or just stepped away without a word, letting Eli sit there unsure. Still, he stayed.
He said what really happened.
It mattered - way deeper than Eli could grasp that day.
He slipped off the couch, then crept into the kitchen - wanted things to seem like any other morning. Marcy'd left her regular short message pinned to the fridge.
Leftovers are warming in the oven - yeah, I actually double-checked the heat. Sip some water now and then. In case Hopper swings by, open up; he's got that backup key on him.
She kept tossing in small kind remarks - never sounding bossy or parent-like. Almost as if she just wanted him to belong.
Eli left the oven shut. Still not feeling like eating - maybe he just wasn't in the mood. His gut was tied up tight, restless enough that chow seemed pointless.
He poured himself a glass of water - drank just a little. Then set it aside.
After that, he wandered into the living room again, pulled by the front windows. Outside, there was just enough light to catch bits of motion in Hawkins - porch lamps blinking awake, some dog yapping far off, people climbing into vehicles even though it was nearly midnight.
Some folks had started looking around.
The shame clamped down once more.
He never fit into Hawkins, not truly. Yet nobody counted on him making a difference. The System ensured he'd slip under the radar if things got rough. Still, he knew exactly what they wanted from him.
Yet this made him unseen.
When somebody unseen spotted stuff… folks never doubted a thing.
He gulped, his throat tense.
Perhaps he'd stick to his word. Or maybe "no meddling" wasn't the same as turning a blind eye
Maybe it stands for a different thing.
Observe.
Be aware.
Learn.
Yet perhaps - just possibly - seeing what's coming could act like a shield.
Eli hunched into the couch once more, tugging the hoodie close. The material carried a whiff of laundry soap mixed with a cozy note - likely from Marcy's dryer sheets. No clue why that scent settled his nerves like it did.
He shut his eyelids.
"System," he muttered quietly, not sure whether to talk aloud or keep it in. "Anything more I need to handle?"
Everything went blank. Then —
SYSTEM NOTE:
Current threat level — Low.
Recommended action: Observe environment. Stay indoors. Avoid wooded areas.
Eli exhaled - hadn't even noticed he was clenching his breath till now.
So the system stayed calm - alright, fine by him. Either way, he could deal with it.
A soft tap broke through his thinking.
Three taps.
Take your time. It's light. No rush needed.
Eli's pulse jumped, just the same.
He froze for a second, ears tuned. Then the tapping returned - identical beat, gentle pulse. A person hoping not to startle him.
Eli eased off the couch, inching toward the door. He kept his breathing calm - not on his own, but thanks to the System backing him up.
He cracked the door open just a bit.
Hopper leaned against the porch rail, drained from whatever he'd been through. Drops clung to his coat, though no rain had fallen lately. His hair stuck up in places, as if he'd shoved his fingers through it again and again.
"Hey, kid," Hopper said, voice rough. "Didn't wake you, did I?"
Eli gave a quick no with his head.
"Good." Hopper hesitated, glancing past him into the house. "Just checking in. I know I was here earlier, but… long day. Thought I'd stop by again."
Once more. Two times today.
Eli wasn't sure how to handle the heat building inside him.
"Can I come in?" Hopper asked.
Eli gave a quick nod then moved out of the way.
Hopper stepped into the living room, yet never took a seat. He seemed restless, like sitting wasn't an option. Hands remained planted on his hips, face tense. Thought followed thought - no break between them.
"You doing okay in here?" he asked, softer now.
Eli gave another nod, yet Hopper still seemed unsure.
"Eat anything?"
Eli lifted his shoulders just a bit.
"Not much."
Hopper sighed through his nose. "Figured. It's been… a hell of a day. Hard for grown adults, let alone kids."
That word struck Eli's chest, much like a small stone tossed into water.
Kid.
Nobody'd said it like that lately - not if it left a mark.
Hopper dragged his palm across his cheek, fingers rough against skin.
"We're doing everything we can," he said, like he needed to say it out loud. Maybe for Eli. Maybe for himself. "We've got officers out looking. Neighbors, too. But it's big woods. And it's cold tonight."
Eli swallowed.
"Will they find him?"
Hopper hesitated.
He just sat there without saying anything.
That said it all to Eli.
"We're gonna keep looking," Hopper finally said. "And I don't want you worrying about it. This stuff… it's not your responsibility."
Eli gave a nod - though inside, he disagreed completely.
Hopper moved nearer while speaking softer.
"Look, Eli. You're safe here. Nothing's gonna happen to you. Marcy's good people. You stay inside, keep the doors locked, and you'll be fine. I'll drop by again tomorrow. Might be late, but I'll come."
Eli wasn't sure how to respond - so he gave a small nod once more.
This time, Hopper looked okay with it.
"Okay." He gave Eli's shoulder a quick press - soft, cautious, as if handling something fragile. "Go take it easy now."
Eli stood there, eyes on the cop car rolling away - until its red lights faded into the dark. He stayed put, following the hum of the engine as it disappeared around the corner.
That's when he shut the door.
The silence came back - thicker than earlier.
He headed over to the couch, then dropped into it carefully - drawing his knees up once more.
The home stayed secure.
But Hawkins wasn't.
Fair enough
He didn't only see the events now.
He stayed in there.
Stories somehow drew folks further in than they'd planned.
SYSTEM:
Passive quest trigger detected.
Monitoring for divergence.
Eli shut his eyelids tight.
Tomorrow, everything began.
For real.