With What Strength Remains (A Stranger Things Fanfic)

Epilogue

A pan of onions sat cooking on the stove in olive oil while a pot of salted water simmered behind it, nearly ready for the corn on the cob Anne was husking over the trash bin. She had the radio playing softly in the background and found herself humming along to Phil Collins as she finished cleaning off the last ear of corn.

Laying them on the counter beside the sink, she retrieved a stick of butter from the refrigerator to let soften. As she shut the door to the fridge, butter in her hand, her eyes fell on the simple, square piece of lined paper that was held to the freezer door by her favorite Garfield magnet. Like she did every time she saw it, Anne smiled as her eyes swept over the five words written across it in hasty, barely legible writing: I need you more - Jim.

Dr. Stillwell had handed it to her about a couple of months ago now, a question in his eyes. He had told her about the phone call he had received the day she left Indiana from an unnamed male asking if the doctor knew her and then the cryptic answer he gave when the doctor asked who was calling. Anne showered the note with kisses when she got it and confirmed that it was from the same strange caller. But as much as she wanted to drop everything and go roaring back to Hawkins, Anne hadn't been in the position to do so.

Uttering a light sigh, she turned back to the kitchen counter where her corn sat and, drawing a knife from the block, began cutting off the ends.

Her brother had taken the news of their mother passing as hard as she thought he would, needing to be placed on suicide watch almost immediately. But under Dr. Stillwell's care and with Anne's regular visits, Gilbert got well enough to be returned back to his normal ward and room. She almost didn't worry about him any more.

As Anne cut through the center of the first ear of corn, she was suddenly pressed against the counter from behind as one strong hand clamped across her mouth and another her wrist wielding the knife. The savage abruptness would've made her gasp in fear had her mouth been free from its restraint, but instead any cry or noise she could issue was stifled. She was pinned, unable to move, by the body of a man who leaned down to flatten his cheek against her head so that his mouth came just behind her ear.

"Don't move," he commanded in a low, husky voice. Swallowing, heart thrumming like a butterfly's wings, Anne tried to squirm free, pulling at the fingers at her mouth with her free hand. But her writhing attempts only made the assailant push her harder into the counter and grip her wrist so tight she dropped the knife.

"I said... Don't. Move." And he tilted her head, bringing it back until it touched his shoulder. With a gentleness that matched the pressure he held her body at, he brushed a series of light kisses along the side of her neck, moving from the base of her ear down to her collarbone, never once letting his hold on her falter. Anne's heart rate increased as she pushed her rear back into him. A deep grunting chuckle bubbled up his throat.

"You play dirty," he rumbled into her neck as he guided her hand that had held the knife towards her side so that his arm was now wrapped around her middle. He gave her one last squeeze before pulling away just enough to spin her around sharply, locking her back against the counter so that she now faced him. She gave him as serious a look as she could muster before saying,

"I'd be running for the hills right now," then, looping her now freed hands around Hopper's neck to pull his face closer, "if I wasn't so turned on." She brought her lips to his and muscled a fiery kiss onto them. She felt more than heard his responding chortle. When his hands started migrating, she pushed him away with a rebuking noise and turned back to their cooking dinner.

"Go check on our steaks, Chief, I don't want mine burned to a crisp because you decide to get frisky." He gave her bottom a healthy slap before he did as he was told and returned to the back deck to man the grill. She smiled to herself as she finished halving the ears of corn and dropped them into the now boiling pot of water.

She'd been back in Hawkins now and living with her favorite Chief of Police for a little less than a month, coming in at the start of June. She hadn't told him she was coming, just showed up at his door and waited for him to get home from work, sitting on his steps trying to read A Farewell to Arms. They hadn't communicated at all since she left him on the side of the road that day, except for the note he sent by way of Dr. Stillwell. It had been six months since they'd seen each other and she was not just a little afraid of his reaction to finding her there.

His truck pulled in and she stood from her seat, nervously stuffing her hands into the back pockets of her jeans. He got out, an unreadable look on his face, as he kept his gaze fixed on her and unhurriedly approached her, his hat in his hands. He stopped when he got to be a few feet away.

"I got your note," she said nervously, producing the paper as proof.

"What took you so long?" he grumbled complainingly. She grinned at him and stepped closer.

"Well, I'm here now. So are you gonna be a big baby about it or are you gonna give me a proper welcome?"

He dashed forward before she could barely finish her sentence and swept her up in his arms, giving her a kiss that charged her body. Her proper welcome soon followed.

When the onions were done and the corn had finished cooking, Hopper helped carry them out to the little card table they had set up for their meal and they sat down to enjoy the food they both prepared. As they ate, she'd occasionally reach over while he was talking and brush her palm over his shoulder or he would cover her hand with his giving it a squeeze, little gestures that meant so much to them after being apart for so many months. Flo called it their honeymoon phase, but never in front of them.

As the sun descended beyond the trees on his property, they stood up and leaned against the railing, backs to the pond, to watch the colors that painted the sky in warm hues. With the encroaching darkness, the early summer air grew brisk and Hopper pulled her against him, crossing his arms over her chest and leaning his chin against her head. She happily melted into him, enjoying the comfort of having him against her.

"This is how I pictured it," he suddenly murmured. She shifted her head to the side so she could look up at him.

"Pictured what?"

He gave a shrug.

"Us. Standing here on the deck like this, watching the sky change colors, just enjoying the moment."

"It's a good moment, isn't it?" she smiled, returning her head under his chin.

"No," he replied, then tightened his hold around her, "It's perfect."