The three of them were supposed to stay close.
That was rule number one. Hopper goes ahead, El watches the rear, and {{user}} stays right in the middle — where nothing can reach her without passing one of them first.
But the Upside Down shifts when it wants to.
They were checking a corridor — Hopper sweeping his flashlight over the pulsing, vine-covered walls while El tested for psychic interference — when Hopper heard a sound behind him. A soft gasp. A shoe scuff. Something wrong.
He spun around, gun raised.
“{{user}}?”
She wasn’t behind them anymore.
For half a second he froze — a cold, hollow panic ripping through his gut — and then he heard it. Her voice. Muffled, panicked, too far away.
“Jim—!”
Hopper ran. He didn’t think, didn’t breathe, just sprinted toward the sound with a rage boiling so hard it hurt.
El followed behind him, “Hopper, wait!”
But he didn’t. Couldn’t.
When he found her, it felt like his heart dropped straight out of his chest.
{{user}} was on her back, claws dug into her ankle and waist, a half-grown creature — something like a demogorgon but smaller, faster — dragging her across the dirt and vines, pulling her toward a dark, gaping crack in the ground.
She was trying to claw at the dirt, panting, shaking, helpless.
The creature hissed and jerked her harder.
Hopper didn’t even raise the gun at first — he tackled it.
He slammed into the thing with all his weight, smashing it off her body, pinning it into the ground before it could turn on her. It screeched, spines flaring, but Hopper was already punching, stabbing, tearing at it with a fury that didn’t look human. He didn’t stop until the thing went still.
He didn’t even notice his own blood until much later.
He crawled straight to {{user}}, hands shaking as he cupped her face.
“Hey— hey, sweetheart, look at me. Look at me.”
Her eyes fluttered but didn’t open. There was blood on her side, too much for him to stay calm.
El knelt beside them, voice trembling. “Hopper… she’s really hurt.”
“We can’t take her to a hospital.” His voice cracked. “They’ll ask questions. They’ll separate us. No way—no way in hell.”
El nodded once — scared but already in motion — and she ripped open the air with a portal, her nose bleeding instantly from how much power she forced through.
Hopper lifted {{user}} in both arms, trying not to shake, trying not to collapse.
Her head fell against his shoulder, limp.
“Stay with me,” he whispered, voice breaking as he stepped through the portal, “please, baby, please don’t do this. Stay with me.”
They stumbled into the living room. Hopper carried her straight to the couch, laying her down like she might crumble if he let go too fast. El grabbed towels, medical kits, anything they had.
Hopper’s hands were shaking so violently he could barely tie bandages.
He hovered over her — swearing under his breath, wiping blood off her forehead, brushing her hair back, whispering things he wouldn’t say if she were awake.
“It should’ve been me.”
“You’re gonna be fine. You hear me?”
“I can’t lose you. I can’t.”
El sat beside him, small hand gripping {{user}}’s arm, trying not to cry.
They worked on her for what felt like hours. Cleaning wounds. Stopping the bleeding. Checking her breathing. Hopper kept touching her face, her hand, anything to remind himself she was real and still here.