What" Hopper arrives in Oxford Where: Outside the dorms When: Mid afternoonWarnings: Not likely Status: OPEN
He nodded at Joyce, tried to communicate with her that it was all right, he knew the risks, and he didn't regret doing what needed to be done to save the world, with just a look. It felt woefully inadequate. He held her gaze, though, strong and steady, calm and accepting. He didn't want to die, of course he didn't. But he would, because there wasn't time to debate, there wasn't time for him to get out of blast range. She needed to turn those keys and close that god damn gate right the hell now. He knew she'd tell Eleven that he loved her, that he was sorry, that he did this for her. He'd needed her to be safe, he prayed that she was, that Joyce would ensure her safety in the future. That was all that really mattered; keeping Eleven and the other kids safe, but especially Eleven.
In that last possible second, moments before complete obliteration, he lurched forward, intending to jump through the portal before it closed because though it meant being trapped in the Upside Down, he had hope that he'd find a way out. Hope was all he had, and he was going to cling to it because it meant he might make it back to El and Joyce and Hawkins. He landed hard, and looked around. There was no cosmic debris in the air, no oppressive darkness like he'd experienced in the Upside Down before. There was sunshine and a woman coming toward him.
She explained to him that he'd come to Oxford, and there was a bat who would accompany him in this world. She took him to a dorm, showed him to a room, and that was that. He was too confused and a bit disoriented, so he didn't ask many questions. The over riding thought in his head was that he hadn't made it, he'd been killed there in the belly of the Star Court Mall wearing a stolen Russian uniform, and this was it. This was his afterlife.
After Lyra left, leaving him with the bat called Parrish, he sat for a long time in shock tinged with disbelief. This was not the afterlife he expected. He hadn't really expected anything. Death was supposed to be it. Lights out, the end. But here he was, and he had no idea what to do at this point. He eventually collected himself, though, and headed outside. The walls were too close, too suffocating. He stumbled outside, still wearing the Commie uniform, his shirt and his face stained with sweat and dried blood, a bat flying above him.