I'm so disgusted with the treatment of Kali Prasad. The fandom carries more grief for a child abuser than they do for a teenage girl who's entire life was spent terrorized and exploited. She found a little rag tag group of people she loved and watched them die. They brought her back just to torture her and kill her. They teased "No major characters die". They decided an teenage indian girl that was pivotal to Eleven's strength isn't "major".
And to add insult to injury, Hopper just let her get shot. And he didn't care. He still doesn't. Her life meant nothing to him.
Rest in Peace Kali. I loved you. I wished for you to find some peace.
only taking away eleven’s happy ending isn’t a good look when you realise she is the only one out of the main group who was abused and tormented throughout their whole life. the realism excuse doesn’t work here when max gets to walk again, and hopper survived that explosion in s3.
"there was never a version of the story where eleven was hanging out with the gang at the end. for our characters to move on and for the story of hawkins and the upside down to come to a close, eleven had to go away."
this also implies that el was a burden to everybody else & for them to be happy, she has to die. it sends a gross message and with all the other fuck ups recently, i just think the duffers should never write an lgbtq+ character, an abuse victim OR a female character ever again. they clearly have no idea how to navigate that and what they did to el, kali, will, robin and vickie really makes that clear to me.
i’ll always love this show as i grew up with it… but i hope they never get to write complex storylines again 🤷♀️
edit: just found out they said they didn’t kill off max because she went through all that trauma and it would be “mean”… the duffer brothers truly never saw el as a human. they saw her as a machine
word count: 4.3k
summary: after the loss of eleven, everyone must learn how to continue on. yet even as time marches on and your life sprouts into something new, you still find yourself learning for your sisters.
contents: hopper!reader, jim hopper x daughter!reader, jane hopper x sister!reader, steve harrington x reader, afab!reader, stranger things finale spoilers, familly ansgt, childhood ending, no use of y/n, a lot of hurt, a lot of comfort
It had been three months since the gate to the Upside Down closed for the last time. Three months since Joyce chopped Vecna’s head off his body. Three months since you lost the only other girl you could call your “sister”.
Hawkins was far from restored, but the community’s can-do attitude helped townsfolk to persevere one last time. The military had almost completely pulled out of the town, and Hawkins Lab had been permanently sealed. With the military gone, the quarantine was lifted after one final mandatory check-up. Folks were free to come and go as they pleased once more. Even the giant metal band-aid had been hauled off to the Indianapolis junk yard.
In the meantime, everyone in the party was sticking around, yet a part of you knew this era would be short-lived. Jonathan was finishing his essay for NYU, Robin was waiting till the last possible minute to send her applications, and Nancy had been re-admitted to Emerson after deferring the year before. They’d be gone next year, and then the younger teens would follow them out.
The battles were over, and everyone could finally move on. Find a new normal.
But moving on was easier said than done. You had tried to confide in your father about losing another daughter. He was surprisingly accepting of her absence quicker than you were, “Jane… made a choice. I know that it is hard; it is so difficult to accept that she’s gone. But, kid, you gotta understand that this isn’t like when we lost Sarah… Sarah didn’t get a choice. Jane made a decision that neither of us will ever understand.”
Then there was Mike, equally lost in grief. Yet the grief you shared was starkly different. While you fought through the pain of not only losing one, but two sisters, Mike was battling the loss of his first love. The kid was a shell of himself, trying to find the answer to an unsolvable riddle or to rewrite an ending for them. Maybe if they had been able to get in contact with Dr. Owens again, he could’ve helped them hide from the government while living a normal life. As much as you both tried, neither of you could stomach the conversation.
Will, Lucas, Dustin, and Max would come over to check on you and talk about the readjustment to high school life. They’d complain about homework load, other extracurriculars, or what some dumbass said in class that day. Everyone tried to be there for you, and they were. But grief is an ocean, the tides pushing and pulling regardless of time.
Steve had seen the worst of it. The nights when neither of you got any sleep because he was consoling you amid endless sobs. He listened as you recounted stories about when your dad first brought you into the cabin to meet Jane. About how you had missed her when Joyce took Jane to California while you lived as an emancipated minor in Hawkins. How you wished you had more time to be a big sister, not just to Jane, but for Sarah…
He listened, he always listened. Because he couldn’t answer your questions. Steve was an only child, and though Dustin was practically his little brother, he knew he couldn’t equate the two. But he was determined to be with you through your grief. He made you easy meals when you couldn’t stomach the thought of food. He helped motivate you out of bed in the morning. He pushed you to find a new perspective on life, now that nothing could hold you down to Hawkins.
— — —
A year had passed since Vecna’s demise. Jonathan, Nancy, and Robin were settled in the east, but regularly called to catch up. They’d all be visiting home for the holiday and swore to hang out like old times.
Dustin had been accepted to Princeton and was on track to graduate as valedictorian. Lucas had accepted an athletic scholarship to IU, and Max was still waiting for her acceptance letter. Will had mentioned something about wanting to move to the city with Jonathan and maybe consider art school. Mike didn’t talk about college, though everyone knew his parents expected him to attend.
You and Steve had even decided to move in together. Steve’s parents had sold their business to private equity and retired to Florida, but Mr. Harrington had left the deed to the Harringtons’ estate. He had been practically living and taking care of the house since his parents fled before quarantine was instituted in ‘86. His parents’ lack of interest in his life was something you both continued to bond over while you built your lives together. Both of you decided to live there until you could save up enough money to buy a house where you two could build happier memories than those on Maple Street. Your dad was suspicious at first.
“I just don’t understand,” He sighed as he stood in the doorway of your old bedroom, dressed in that same police chief uniform from years ago, “You two have only been dating for eight months. It just feels too soon, kid.”
“Dad,” you looked at him as you taped up another box, “Steve and I were playing a long game of ‘will they, won’t they’ for years. He… he’s the only one who understands—”
You tried to gesture. The words were coming up short on your tongue. Words that you didn’t want to speak because they would remind you of your losses. Your eyes flicked around the bedroom you had once shared with Jane. This cabin held too much history of two sisters thrust together who desperately needed each other. Engrained in the wood were tales of girlhood, haunting memories of a childhood that both your sisters had been robbed of.
Hop’s demeanor softened when he noted the tears rimming your eyes, “You’re not a kid anymore. You’ll always be my little girl, but you’ve outgrown this cabin. And I… I’m gonna miss my girls…”
The two of you moved to hug each other, silently mourning the Eggo waffle extravaganzas and Magnum PI reruns. If you listened closely enough, you could hear the echoes of laughter and records playing.
A knock came from the doorway. Steve was perched there in a red Henley and jeans, his hair tamed beneath a backwards baseball cap. He gave you both an easy smile, “I hate to break up the moment, but we are running short on daylight.”
Both you and your father wiped away tears as you pulled apart.
“Harrington,” Hop nodded at him, “How’s your first year at Hawkins Middle going? Did Mr. Clarke finally recruit you to help him with the A.V. Club?”
Steve chuckled and shook his head, “No, no. I had to be honest with him. Told him that my brain doesn’t work like his or Dustin’s when it comes to technological advancement. That, and I’m unfortunately caught up with these after-school practices.”
“The kids love Coach Steve,” You interjected with a proud smile.
“They call you coach in the classroom, too? Or do you make them call you Mr. Harrington?” Hop asked.
“No, Mr. Harrington was my father, and he was all business,” Steve explained, “So I’m Mr. H in the classroom. And Ms. H makes sure our athletes are well taken care of as our newest school nurse.”
You grinned at how Steve subtly gushed about your most recent accomplishment. Hop, however, suspiciously eyed the two of you, “Mr. and Ms. H?”
“Ms. Hopper is too formal,” You shrugged, quickly moving to grab the last box.
You pressed a quick kiss to your dad’s cheek before exiting the room. You expected Steve to follow behind you shortly.
Once you were out of earshot, Hop met Steve with an intense look, “Mr. and Ms. H? When should I expect Mr. and Mrs. H?”
Steve’s eyes quickly flicked in the direction of his truck before meeting your father’s stern gaze once more. He let out a heavy sigh and stood up straight, “I bought a ring a month ago. But… I don’t know when to ask. We’re happy right now. Y’know, she has her good days and her bad days. But it’s great to have her at the school. She’s always been good at… taking care of the little guys. I just—”
He halted and ran his hand over his face, “It’s not a question of if. Just when. I don’t want her to feel like I’m forcing her to move on from this too quickly.”
Hopper took in the information, the gears in his head turning. He understood why Steve was cautious; hell, he even respected him for being so thoughtful. But he also wanted to make sure that he knew you wouldn’t be alone when your old man was gone.
— — —
With eighteen months since the bridge closed, a chapter was quickly closing again as the kids… the teens and soon-to-be adults, would be graduating. Dustin had been over to have dinner with you and Steve the night before. He talked endlessly of how excited he was to go to New Jersey, and how he could take the train up to visit Will in New York. He also complimented the camper parked in the driveway, a recent purchase Steve had made with summer break looming at the school.
A day later, everyone had come together to celebrate the Class of 1989. After the ceremony and Dustin’s exciting address to his fellow graduates, your parties split up with the promise of hanging out again before anyone left town post-graduation celebrations.
Steve and you had joined your old friends on the rooftop of the Squawk. Nancy and Robin nursed their red solo cups while Jonathan recounted the plot of the script he was working on.
“So an anticapitalist, cannibalism indie film? Byers, the Hollywood elite will hate you.” You chuckled as you snagged yourself and Steve another beer from the cooler.
“What’s rent like in New York?” Steve quickly followed up.
“Why? You two thinking of finally moving?” Nancy asked him with a knowing smile.
“Yeah, you could move in with me while you get a taste for city life,” Jonathan shrugged and finished the remainder of his drink.
You shook your head as you perched next to Steve, “No… no. We’re gonna stick around here just for a little while longer.”
Steve beamed at you, glad that you were choosing to be present in the moment, “Yeah. We’re saving up to get our own place. Maple Street just isn’t for us. There’s a nice plot of land available out on Forest Park that we’ve almost got enough for. Market’s not too bad right now.”
And like the ceremony from earlier in the day, your group couldn’t help but feel that pang of nostalgia. The wave of feeling that comes from speaking with old friends who have seen what you were and the potential for who you could become. It was bittersweet to go into Family Video, Melvald’s, and the Hawk without seeing your teenage selves.
“Let’s promise to meet up once a month,” Robin suggested. The group knew that once a month would be difficult. Between traveling to Hawkins or the east coast or Robin’s uncle's house and finding the time amidst baseball practices or work or college, it was a hopeful dream shared between friends with shared trauma.
— — —
Two months later, at the Harrington-Hopper residence. It had been twenty months since your family had been separated.
Your dad and Joyce were visiting Maple Street tonight. Steve thought it was important to have your dad over for dinner at least once a month. Will had just moved out to the city with Jonathan, and you each felt the lack of his presence at the dinner table that night. But there was still so much good to be had.
Joyce now sported a quaint engagement ring, ready to finally get her happily ever after with your father. You were terribly happy for both of them. Steve recalled the events of your drive, and so-called vacation, to take Dustin to college orientation. Yet among all the joy, you noticed that your father had been uncharacteristically quiet.
The conversation hit a lull, and you immediately called him out, “There’s something you want to tell us?”
Hop’s eyes flicked between you, Steve, and Joyce. When she nodded at him, he released a heavy sigh and set down his fork.
“Joyce and I have decided to move to Montauk,” Your dad came straight out with it, knowing better than to avoid the truth. “I’ve accepted a position as Chief of Police, and we’ll be closer to Jonathan and Will. Which means you’ll be able to see them when you visit—”
“You’re leaving me?” Your words sliced through the air.
The room went silent, neither Steve nor Joyce wanting to insert themselves into the exchange.
Your dad’s shoulders sagged, the words stinging his heart, “I-I’m not leaving you, but we want to leave Hawkins finally.”
“Right, so you’re just abandoning me,” You quickly got to your feet. Steve gently tried to grasp your hand in consolation, but you pushed it away.
“Kid, please,” Hop grit his teeth, attempting to remain unemotional, “We need a new start. I need a new start. There’s nothing left for me in Hawkins—”
“Except for me!” You snapped. Suddenly, you felt like you were seventeen again and fighting with your old man while Jane was out with Mike.
“No, I told you that I made plans to go see the re-release of Jaws with Steve that weekend,” You stomped into the bedroom in frustration, “I can’t just babysit Jane and Mike all the time. It’s my summer vacation too.”
Hop rolled his eyes as he stood in the doorway, “Yeah, and I told you to get a summer job, but you couldn’t even do that. The least you could do to earn your keep around here is to make sure your sister doesn’t get into any funny business with Wheeler.”
“My keep?” You scoffed at his turn of phrase, emotions hitting a high, “I’m your daughter too. Or did you forget that? And if you’ve forgotten about me, then maybe you forgot about Sarah?”
“Okay, I’m sorry, but that’s enough, kid,” He held his hands up in defense.
“No, you never listen to me,” You spat as tears threatened to spill, “I lost my sister. You moved us back here, bummed around as you drank and smoked yourself out, and then you get a case that makes you feel like a big city cop again. And now I’m stuck playing mother to a lab experiment—”
“Jane is your sister—”
“Sarah is my sister. Jane is my sister. And you are their father,” A sob raked your body, “But you’re my dad too, y’know!”
Your dad froze in place, realization dawning on him. He looked defeated as he shook his head. He placed a large hand on your shoulder, the look in his eyes saying more than words could, “I’m sorry. I… I’m so sorry.”
The evening ended when you stormed upstairs, the door to the master bedroom slamming. Steve packed a container of leftovers for Hop to take to work for lunch the next day. He bid your dad and Joyce a goodnight with a promise that it would be okay, you just needed time to adapt to the change.
When Steve finally came upstairs, he found you curled into a ball at the foot of your shared bed. He stood at the doorway, calm and collected. You two had done this ritual plenty of times, showing up for each other when the nightmares got too real again.
“Sweetheart, can I join you?” Steve gently asked. He always sought your permission, wanting to make sure you felt in control of the situation.
The only response was the sound of your sobs. Until he caught the faint nod of your head. In a few short strides, Steve was next to you, hand ready for you to take when you were ready. It was another twenty minutes before you put your thoughts into words.
“Do you think he’d still leave if it were Mike and Jane here instead?”
Your question pierced deeply, instantly understanding right where your mind was.
“You can’t do that to yourself, honey,” He tried to console you, “You know as well as I do that he didn’t make this decision lightly. He wouldn’t leave if he didn’t think you could stand on your own two feet.”
Your glassy eyes continued to wander the room, “If Jane were here, she’d be excited to see somewhere new. Despite the bullies, she really did love California. I think she just loved to see the world…”
Steve wrapped his arms around your shoulder, tugging you into his side. It was a small act to help ground you.
“After Eddie’s funeral, I dropped Dustin off at home… But I couldn’t go back to my house. It was too quiet with my parents being gone for good,” He explained as he ran a soothing hand over your arm, “So I went to Lover’s Lake and Skull Rock… retraced my steps. I thought that if I could go back and relive that week through Dustin’s eyes, I would see what he saw in Eddie. Something that I thought I was lacking, and that’s why Dustin had started to pull away from me.”
“That’s ridiculous,” You wiped your eyes with the back of your hands, “Dustin would never want you to be Eddie. He’s only ever wanted his best friend, Steve.”
“Yeah,” he nodded, “But we didn’t communicate with each other. I felt like a failure because I couldn’t be enough for Dustin, and then we both got angry. But I wasn’t angry at him. I was angry at myself because we should’ve planned better for the demobats. I could’ve biked faster, but I was too late. And so I wondered if this is how it would’ve been if the roles were reversed. Why was I, just some dumb jock who got mixed into this crap on accident, the one who had survived a demogorgon, the Mind Flayer, and Vecna?”
His words washed over you, bringing you a sense of understanding that you couldn’t put into words. You pressed a kiss to his temple before resting your forehead against his, “You’re here because I need you here. Those kids need you here. And we’ve got a great party of friends who need you here.”
Steve grinned, your assurance mending something he needed to hear in his heart long ago, “And that’s why you’re still here, too.”
— — —
New Year’s Eve, 1990. NYC. Two years after the gate closed.
Steve and you had flown into Long Island to visit Joyce and Hopper for the holidays. Montauk was beautiful at Christmas, the perfect place to pop the question. You two were officially one step closer to being Mr. and Mrs. H.
But now you both had taken the train into the city to meet up with Jonathan, Nancy, and Robin. Jonathan had managed to reserve a booth at an underground jazz club for the group to ring in the New Year together. The monthly meetups had failed by the second attempt to get to Philly. It was simply too difficult to travel, and the timing never seemed to work out. But your friends had discovered that every three months and some holidays were doable.
Robin had just recounted running into Vickie while home visiting Hawkins, and that she may or may not have given Vickie her landline number. Jonathan was still enjoying NYU and working as a part-time production assistant for some hotshot indie filmmaker that he just raved about. Nancy mentioned earning a recent promotion to the full-time editing staff of her paper.
But the most exciting news of the evening was the shiny ring on your finger.
“Harrington, that is a rock,” Robin gawked at the size of the stone. “Is that why you two sold the Harrington estate?”
Both you and Steve laughed as you remained tucked against each other in the dim booth. Steve rolled his eyes, “No, we sold it because we finally decided to just buy some land and build our dream home. But we are living in Forrest Hills for the time being until we decide where we want to be.”
“You two are ditching Hawkins?” Nancy leaned in, her expression riddled with surprise.
“We haven’t officially decided anything yet,” You quickly interjected, “But we want to keep our options open right now. But what’s most important to us is that you all know that you will always have a home to visit us in, even if it isn’t in Hawkins.”
“But why leave?” Robin followed up, “Not that I am not totally psyched about all these awesome things.”
Both you and Steve looked at each other. It was a question you both wrestled with. Why should we leave? Why should we stay? But there was opportunity everywhere, and you both knew that as long as you were together, you could settle anywhere and finally live out the Harrington dream.
You nodded at him and looked at your friends with an answer, “We’re just weighing our options.”
That satiated them enough. With a toast to your friendship and to the New Year, you chuckled as the countdown to the New Year started.
A deep part of you ached. You longed to share a moment like this with your sisters again. You wished Sarah could have met the ragtag group who had become your friends. You wished Jane could be here to see that you and Steve would be tying the knot. You wished they were here to see how happy your father was in Montauk. But deep down, you knew that they were with you through all of it.
— — —
August 1991.
That summer, you and Steve were happily married. All of the party returned to Hawkins for the ceremony. Dustin had suggested a destination wedding, but both you and Steve agreed that it needed to be in Hawkins. You were both surrounded by friends and family. Steve’s folks had flown in from Florida, but most of his relatives remained standoffish.
It was a simple wedding followed by a beautiful honeymoon in a beach cottage in Maine. Steve and you had spent two weeks exploring the coast and spending plenty of intimate time together before another school year started in September.
You had just arrived home to find a stack of packages on your doorstep from the wedding registry. Steve sighed and shook his head, “Why don’t you grab the mail while I lug those inside?”
Easily agreeing to the proposal, you climbed out of the cab of his truck. You took a deep breath of the Hawkins air because you didn’t know how much longer you would have to savor it. Steve had found a plot of land in a nice neighborhood just outside of Chicago, yet you were still in the middle of figuring out which master’s program you would attend — Chicago or Boston. Your thoughts jumped between the two cities as you approached the mailbox.
You plucked the stack of mail. It was a mix of bills, congratulatory letters, and weekly coupons; however, a smaller notecard caught your attention in the stack. While you examined the strange postcard, you wandered back into your temporary home.
The postcard was a gorgeous photo of a fjord with a waterfall on either side of the strait. There was a cursive white lettering that read, “Greetings from Iceland!”
“Hey, babe,” You called out to Steve, “Do you know anyone from Iceland?”
“Iceland?” He repeated, surprise obvious in his tone, “Um, no… and my mom hates the cold, so it couldn’t be family?”
Finally, you flipped the card over to find it blank. Steve raised a brow. He noted the lack of ink beside the childish writing of their home address. He shrugged as he continued to bring your bags back inside, “Looks like one of the school kiddos, maybe? And they just forgot to write the rest of their note?”
You hummed in contemplation, not quite believing his story. With a sudden idea, you searched the junk drawers of your kitchen. It only took a moment to find the blacklight that you stored away years ago. As soon as you turned on the little light, the hidden message revealed itself to you.
‘Sister,
Congratulations — I know that you and Steve will be very happy together.
I miss you. I miss all of you. But I am happy on the other side of this.
With love,
J.H’
You only lowered the note when a teardrop hit the edge of the postcard. With a quick hand, you wiped away the tear to preserve the ink. As the blacklight danced over the long forgotten curves and scratches that belong to someone so dear to you, the little girl inside of you finally got her peace, her closure.
“Whoa, sweetheart,” Steve rounded the corner, instantly sensing the distress, “What’s wrong? You okay?”
Pocketing the light, you quickly tacked the postcard onto the fridge with some gaudy tourist magnet he bought. You smiled and quickly wiped your cheeks as you turned back to look at him. You nodded, reaching out to take his hands within your own, “Yeah, yeah, I’m okay.”
Steve gave you a loving smile, noticing that your steps were suddenly lighter. In your eyes, he saw that part of you was now at peace. He didn’t press you for more information; he trusted that you would share whatever it was once you were ready. Instead, he enveloped you in a bear hug, “Alright. Night in. How about I order us a pizza while you pop in Back to the Future?”
“Sounds perfect,” You agreed, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before hustling off to the living room.
