Working was dreadful. If there was one place that Christine hated the most it was work. After the mall things had changed a lot for her at the station. While everyone felt bad they decided to keep her on until she could get through the academy and then hire her officially, but until then she was pretty much still intern status and easily abused. The situation was that when an officer didn't want to take a call, or go out, they would send Christine. She got noise complaints, minor inconveniences, and petty theft, just mostly the things the officers didn't care to take care of.
Christine was twirling a pen in between her fingers, her palm holding her chin up as she leaned on her desk. She had been watching a desk bird go back and forth for 40 minutes, and she was practically dying of boredom. Out of curiosity she looked down at her watch, the hands showing her that it was 12:30. Suddenly she was hit with the remembrance of what Steve had proposed the day before, her lips lifting the tiniest bit into a smile at the thought of seeing him.
Christine was happier now, knowing she had found herself a good topic to think about until she was called on or needed. She thought about Steve and what he was doing right now, probably laughing with Robin, stacking movies and rewinding tapes. She could imagine him concentrating, his eyes narrowed as he watched through the movie rewinding, trying to see through the images of it was something he'd care to watch. If it was he put it in the Steve pile under the counter, the ever growing one, the pile that fueled their movie nights and one of the best nights of the week. She could imagine him complaining about any small inconvenience, the way he would put his hand on his hip and drop his head, sighing and then starting his complaints. She smiled at that one, the image making her want to laugh. She could imagine him -
"Phone for you Wheeler!" One of the officers yelled, Christines phone ringing almost immediately after he finished saying her name. She pushed the thought of Steve away momentarily, the girl picking the phone up and putting it to her ear.
"Hawkins Police is there an emergency?"
"Damn right there's an emergency! I've been telling these kids to shut the hell up for years and I've finally had enough of it today!" The voice that came through the phone was one of an older man, clearly frustrated and upset about whatever noise he was talking about.
"Sir I-"
"You're gonna get your ass out here and shut this down. Now!" Christine rolled her eyes at this, grabbing her notepad and letting out a sigh before speaking again.
"Alright sir. I need your address please." She tried to wrap up the phone call as quickly as possible, not without getting properly irritated by the man on the phone.
"Well they're down the street a few houses in a garage but I-"
"Are you serious? Sir you cannot file a noise complaint just because someone is practicing in a garage. Down the street. In the middle of the day." Christine Wheeler spoke into the phone, her hand lifting from its spot on the desk to touch the clock that was sitting only inches away. It was 12:45...this was ridiculous.
"These damned kids are always screaming! Playing that damn guitar too loud and shouting at the damn devil! Now I called up here for a damn noise complaint because I didn't want to take this shit into my own hands! But if somebody ain't up here within the hour I'm gonna go down and figure out myself...and you might be getting another call." The man on the other end of the line hung up once he spit out the address, Christines eyes closing as she let out a irritated sigh.
"Ooo. Sounds like you've got to go out there huh?" To her left the voice shattered her irritated silence, her head turning to look at Officer Phil Callahan.
Finally she hung up, the girl dropping her face into her hands and wondering why she ever thought this job would be a good idea. He was eating something, and the crumbs of it were in his mustache and on her desk now, the girls lip curling up in disgust as he gave her a smug look.
"Or you could go? Sounds pretty serious." Christine offered up, thinking it was worth at least a try to get him to go. He pretended to think about it for a second before standing straighter and giving her another smug smile, taking a bite of his muffin, and shaking his head.
"No I don't think I will. Have fun though." He walked off back towards his desk, Christine cursing herself and him as she pondered why she ever thought that man was attractive. She used her sleeve to wipe the crumbs off of her desk, the girl groaning as she realized she would actually have to go out there. Not only that...she would miss seeing Steve.
She stood from the desk, pushing the chair in and grabbing the piece of paper that she had written the address down on. She let out one more sigh, turning around and making her way towards the Chiefs door as she ran through what to say and how to get her point across. Just as her fingers touched the wood of the office door she was snapped back to reality, her breath catching in her throat as she saw the name on the door. It wasn't Jim Hopper, it was Chief Powell. She didn't do this often, because most of the time she was fully aware of Hoppers death, but every once in awhile she would slip up and forget, thinking she would walk in and complain about something or ask him what to say or even ask for his lunch order, because he was the only person she didn't mind making that run for. Christine took a dejected step back, her hand lowering from the door and a breath of realization pushing through her lips. She stared at the wood for a moment, almost as if she was searching it for answers or reasons why this happened so much. But the door was just wood, and it could not answer her questions.
When she turned back around she had a cold and emotionless look on her face, but her eyes were filled with misery and confusion. What kind of world this must be to take her friend, to take someone who would leave so many heartbroken people behind. Finally she looked up from the tiled floor, sucking in one last coming breath and pushing that hurt away. It was getting easier to do that, to push the pain away and replace it with a facade of being okay and being happy. She hated talking about how much it hurt, because she knew people like Eleven and Joyce had it so much worse, Will and Mike and Max and everyone else were suffering constantly, coping with terrible trauma that was years in the making. Who was she to be upset? To have flashbacks and fears and nightmares? She didn't deserve them. Christine wasn't granted the satisfaction of being understood for her trauma. Why would she?
Christine Wheeler cleared her throat, unable to look back at the door and instead taking calculated steps away from the office, thinking with every step that her mood would improve. It was a small misstep, a mistake, she hasn't meant it.
With no actual police academy certificate Christine had to take her own car to do things. She had a badge, no gun, no taser, but they did give her a baton. She wore a blue button up, and black pants and nothing else. Christine had initially been hired under Jim Hopper to be his assistant, he gave her a uniform and a pat on the head and had said these words to her: "This will be good for you kid. Put you back on track." It was really Hoppers way of saying that he enjoyed being around her, and he wanted to give her the opportunity to become something, especially when he heard from the children about her valiant efforts against Billy Hargrove. He thought that she was brave, and he would never admit it out loud, but he thought she was going to be something great one day. And he was a proud man, he was proud of her. When he passed the department felt bad firing her, so instead they put it off, saying that once she turned the appropriate age they would send her to the academy, but for now she would work the desk, and complaints. However her treatment without Hoppers secretly watchful eye (secret because when he saw someone being rude to her he would pull them aside and give them some light threatening) she was subject to workplace hazing...they were mean. And they treated her jsut lien Nancy had complained about all those times to Christine. She contemplated quitting all the time, but something about the place kept her from it. She wasn't sure if it was the hope that things would get better, or because she couldn't find another job, or maybe...just maybe , it was the thought of being even half the person that Jim Hopper was.
