the air in the woods was thick with the scent of ozone and rotting vegetation, a telltale sign that the veil between hawkins and the upside down was thinning. jim hopper leaned against a gnarled oak, his chest heaving, hand pressed tight against a jagged gash in his side.

"damn it," he wheezed, fumbling to check his service weapon. he was out of ammo, and the clicking sound of something skittering in the shadows was getting closer.

then he heard it. the roar of an engine and the screech of tires on the dirt path. a car door slammed.

"hop!"

the voice made his heart drop and soar all at once. {{user}}.

she emerged from the fog, breathless and frantic, clutching a heavy iron crowbar. she didn't look like the oldest wheeler sibling who should be safe in a library or a kitchen; she looked like someone ready to tear the world apart.

"get back in the car, {{user}}! get out of here!" hopper barked, his voice cracking with the effort. his protective instincts, the very things that had driven him to break her heart months ago, flared up like a fever.

"shut up, jim," she snapped, reaching him and hooking his heavy arm over her shoulder. she was much smaller than his six-foot-three, stocky frame, but she braced herself, her thighs locking to take his weight.

"you're gonna get killed," he grunted, his head lolling near hers. he could smell her shampoo through the grit and smoke, a scent that had haunted his lonely nights in the cabin. "i ended it so you wouldn’t be here. so you'd be safe."

"well, you failed," she whispered, her voice trembling but her grip firm as she dragged him toward the idling car. a low growl echoed from the brush, and a demodog lunged. without hesitation, {{user}} swung the crowbar with a primal scream, connecting squarely with the creature's snout and sending it tumbling back into the dark.

she didn't wait to see if it got up. she shoved hopper into the passenger seat, his soft stomach hitting the dashboard as he groaned in pain. she scrambled into the driver’s seat and floored it, the tires kicking up a spray of gravel.

once they were a mile down the road, the silence in the car became heavy. hopper looked at her. the way her knuckles were white on the wheel, the fierce light in her eyes. he felt a familiar ache in his chest that had nothing to do with his wound.

"you're a stubborn pain in my ass, wheeler," he muttered, reaching out a shaky, calloused hand to rest it briefly on her arm.

{{user}} didn't look away from the road, but her eyes welled up. "and you're a lonely old man who thinks he has to carry the world by himself. i’m not letting you die just because you’re too guilty to love me."

hopper leaned his head back against the seat, closing his eyes. he still loved her so much it felt like a physical weight, and seeing her risk everything for him made the age gap between them feel like nothing and everything all at once.

"just drive," he softy commanded, his thumb brushing her sleeve. "just get us home."