Chapter Text
Honestly, he doesn't know what the hell he's doing.
Well yeah, he had a daughter, but that was five years ago and this girl ain't his daughter.
Eleven was nothing like Sarah. He actually had no idea how Eleven was like. She didn't talk much nor do much. Basically all she did was that magical - err -telekinesis thing and eat Eggos. Other than that even the other kids didn't know what she enjoyed.
No wait, the Wheeler kid said that she enjoyed sitting on their La-Z-boy. He'd have to remember to get one of those suckers.
"So..." Hopper says, opening the front door for her, "this is gonna be your new home."
Eleven looks up at him then at his house. It's obviously still a bit dirty - he really didn't have enough time to make the place kid friendly - but he replaced some of his old furniture and cleaned the place up. "Home."
He watches her take her first step in her new home, "yeah, home. You'll be living here with me now. If you want anything, just tell me."
The girl takes in the place before settling on his new couch. The old one was too filthy for a kid. She was probably still having a hard time adjusting to the outside world. The room she had in the lab was just cruel, and her place at the Wheeler's basement wasn't really all that comfortable, having to hide all the time. He hopes that the girl would eventually consider this place as home. It wasn't the best home in town, but he was working on that.
"Uh, I have some clothes for you from Nancy," he gestures to the suitcase full of clothes that the eldest Wheeler had generously given, "then we can go get some new clothes in the morning." Hopper waits for a reaction from the kid. Nothing. "Or something... uh, want anything?"
Eleven just blinks at him.
Great. The kid either doesn't like him or is afraid of him. He could probably ask the Wheeler kid to talk to her, she trusted him. Maybe he should have thought this through. Who was he kidding? He wasn't cut out for this parental thing. He just thought that, maybe he could do some good for the kid. That Papa of hers was nowhere near what a father was supposed to be. He could try, right? "Want some Eggos?"
At the mention of waffles, the kid immediately perks up.
"So, Eggos, huh," he mumbles, scratching the back of his neck, "okay, c'mon to the kitchen. I'll cook as many as you want."
The girl grins and follows him to the kitchen.
This marks his first day with his new kid.