Hopper appeared just before lunch carrying two large dishes of food from Joyce. Steve had sent round a walkie ask earlier to see if anyone needed to go to the store like he did, and apparently that had made up Joyce's mind to make sure the hoard at his house were fed. He made a mental note to pick up Joyce some things at the store when he went later, while he popped the casseroles in the oven to keep warm. 

"Are you staying for some of this amazing smelling food?" Steve asked after he set the temperature and turned back to the ex-police chief hovering in his kitchen.

The kids were all currently in the backyard blowing off some steam since Steve and Eddie had both declared they were done for now. Robin was also outside, supposedly to make sure no one got themselves killed because Lucas was encouraging Dustin to try and climb a tree, but Steve was pretty sure she was egging them on.

"Well, mostly I came to deliver a message, but I could be persuaded," Hopper replied.

"What's up, Chief?" Eddie asked from where he was lounging in a chair.

"I spoke to Owens this morning before dropping in to talk to Powell," Hopper said, which definitely caught Steve's attention. "There is going to be a press conference this afternoon at five where Chief Powell is going to make it very clear, you are no longer a suspect in the murders in this town."

Eddie sat up straight.

"How did you manage that?" Steve asked.

"Owens and his people are coming up with an airtight cover story," Hopper told them, "and we haven't ironed the details out yet, but it's going to be something to do with the undercover angle we were using for me coming back from the dead."

Steve remembered hearing something about that before they had all been allowed back to their homes, but he'd been a bit distracted since.

"I explained to Powell I couldn't discuss the details yet, but how wrong this town was and that he needs to get on the right side of this story before he looks like a complete idiot," Hopper went on. "He agreed when I mentioned the Feds."

"So, I'm going to be free and clear?" Eddie asked, voice higher than normal and full of incredulity.

Steve didn't blame him, after all the police had done nothing to help him so far.

"That's the plan," Hopper replied, "although you probably want to lie low for a while longer until we can get the full cover story out there and everyone gets the message."

"Holy shit," Eddie said, sitting back in his chair and staring into space for a while as if he was having trouble getting his head round that.

"So, Powell and Owens know Eddie is alive?" Steve asked as it occurred to him.

Hopper nodded.

"But they are the only two and it's not going to be made public knowledge," the man told them. "They needed to know so they realise how important this is. Clearing the name of a dead man isn't as much of a priority."

"Can I tell my uncle?" Eddie asked, leaning forward again.

"It might be danger..." Hopper started to say.

"We could bring him here," Steve interrupted before Hopper could say no. "Hop, Wayne thinks Eddie is dead. If it was your kid, you'd want to know that wasn't true, wouldn't you?"

He'd heard the desperate edge in Eddie's tone. While he had no idea what was going on in Eddie's head, he could imagine. If it had been him, while he was in hiding, he wouldn't have wanted to involve those he loved, but Hopper's news changed all that for Eddie.

"Yeah," Hopper said after a few seconds, "yeah, I would. But do it before the press conference if you can. The news people will no doubt want someone to talk to when this goes live, and Wayne Munson is the obvious candidate, so they will be looking for him."

"How much can I tell him?" Eddie asked next.

"My cover story is I went undercover with the Feds," Hopper replied, "but Owens hasn't come up with the details yet. Apparently, he's still working them out so the paper trail will stand up. We'll work you in somehow, either as an innocent bystander caught up in it, or as a confidential informant or something, but until it's finalised, go with 'sorry I can't talk about it yet'."

"I don't like lying to my uncle," Eddie said, playing with his fingers as if he still had his rings on.

"Think of it as protecting him," Hopper said. "The Upside Down might be closed off now, but just knowing about it puts people in danger."

"Russians," Steve muttered before he could stop himself.

"Yeah, and any other foreign or domestic power who decides opening a gate might be in their best interest," Hopper agreed.

Eddie looked between them.

"Okay," he said eventually, and Steve so wanted to walk over and give him a hug.

"I could take Dustin and track him down," Steve said, already standing away from where he was leaning on the counter.

"Food first," Hopper said before he could get ahead of himself. "He's staying at the Palace Motel and he's usually there or at the school. He shouldn't be hard to find. Now I am going out there to make sure no one dies, because I just saw Henderson nearly fall out of a tree."

As soon as Hopper walked out the back door muttering about damn kids, Steve stepped across to where Eddie was sitting.

"Okay?" he asked, reaching out to place a hand on Eddie's shoulder.

"No more running from the law," was the somewhat happy reply, but Eddie's smile did not quite reach his eyes.

"It's hard," Steve said, because he was pretty sure he understood, "but Hop's right, it keeps them safe."

"But how do I explain where I've been?" Eddie asked. "What about when all this," he gestured around himself, "goes back to normal and I wake him up in the middle of the night screaming?"

"Don't lie," was the best advice Steve could give. "Tell him you've been through hell, just don't tell him how literal that was."

"God, I hate this cloak and dagger bullshit," Eddie said, staring at the floor.

"It gets easier," Steve did his best to be reassuring. "Which should probably be worrying, but we've all been through it and we can help."

"This is like your, what, fourth go round with all this shit?" Eddie asked.

"Fifth is you count the first confrontation with Vecna and his ultimate demise as separate events," he replied, going for a lighter tone. "You'd think the government would be better at this by now."

"Why should they worry when they have an elite force of battle toughened children to do it for them?" Eddie asked in his most sarcastic manner.

"Don't ever call the kids that to their faces or we will never hear the end of it," Steve said. "Can you imagine Dustin?"

"Yeah, an ego boost it not something that kid needs," Eddie agreed, placing a hand over Steve's and giving his fingers a light squeeze.

It wasn't a resolution, but they were getting there.

~*~

"So," Steve said, sitting down next to Hopper in the backyard, "how bad is it?"

Most of the others were inside now devouring Joyce's offerings and just about everything else Steve had left in the house. He planned on fitting in a grocery run at some point in the afternoon or evening, depending on how long it took to track down Wayne Munson. When he'd seen Hopper sitting alone, he'd decided to broach the other subject on his mind.

Hopper sighed, taking another bite of his food before saying anything.

"It's fine," Hopper said, "as you can plainly see."

Steve raised both his eyebrows and gave the other man a look.

"Hop," he said, "you're talking to the guy who learned how to mask a migraine that could knock out an elephant. So cut the crap."

"You get migraines?" Hopper asked.

"I did," he replied, "for a while after Billy and the plate, and then again after Starcourt. Lasted a couple of months each time. I guess now we know why they went away. But we aren't talking about me."

Hopper looked down at his food.

"What did you feel the other night?" Hopper asked eventually.

"Pain," Steve admitted, "but nothing concrete, so you're going to have to tell me."

Another sigh answered his question.

"You can't help me, Kid," Hopper said, "Owens had his people give me a once over and things have healed wrong. It's too late, there's no putting it right without major surgery and even that would be doubtful."

"They can't put it right. What if I can?" he countered. "I can't move things with my mind, well I can, but, yeah, definitely don't want to try that again, but I can do this. I don't understand it, but part of me must do. You could at least let me try."

"Why? It's just pain," Hopper replied.

"Yeah, and no one deserves that," Steve said. "And if that isn't enough, think of it as an experiment."

"For what?"

"For helping Max," he replied, revealing the ace in his hand. "From what we've heard, she has what the doctors think are untreatable injuries too, she's blind. If I can heal you, maybe I can heal her too, but I wouldn't want to give her false hope, so, yeah, an experiment."

Hopper glared at him.

"Fuck," the man said under his breath. "You are a crafty bastard."

Steve smiled his most devious smile.

"Just occasionally I take after my mother," he replied. "I mean, don't hold your breath for it to happen again, but mark it on the calendar."

"Lord help us," Hopper said and shook his head.

They fell into silence again for a while.

"So when might you plan on this experiment?" Hopper finally asked.

"You could come back tonight, after Eddie and Wayne have had their reunion," Steve suggested.

"Isn't that too soon?" Hopper said, frowning. "You raised the dead only yesterday."

Steve gave Hopper a long cool look, the man had to have heard what he had to say about that at least three times the previous day.

"Okay, okay," Hopper said, mouth twisting into something that vaguely resembled a smile, "no resurrections, but my point still stands."

"I'm good," Steve replied, "not, I'm fine, because we both know what that means, I really am good. It seems that as long as I consume my own body weight in food I bounce back. Honestly haven't felt this good in a while."

"You been healing yourself?" Hopper asked.

"Not consciously except when I healed where Eddie bit me," he admitted (they filled Hopper in on their vampire investigations), "but my bites are almost completely gone, I can barely see where they were."

He lifted the edge of his shirt. Where there had still been angry pink scar tissue before, there was almost smooth slightly discoloured skin. He'd noticed it in the mirror that morning, but he'd had more important things on his mind.

"I think, maybe, consciously acknowledging I have these powers kicked my instincts into gear to fix me without holding back," he said with a small shrug. "I woke up like this today. They weren't sore anymore yesterday, but they were still obvious."

When he dropped his shirt again, Hopper shook his head and looked away for a moment.

"Waking miracles," he just about heard the other man mutter to himself.

He gave Hopper whatever time he needed and waited for a proper response.

"You don't have to," Hopper started to say.

"I want to," Steve said, shutting that down. "I kind of need to," he admitted.

Hopper frowned in thought, but sighed again rather than voicing what he was actually thinking.

"For Max?" Hopper said after a few moments.

"For Max," he agreed, because he was willing to pretend that was all it was if he had to.

"Tonight."

He nodded and Hopper nodded back. They had a deal.