"Me neither," Beverly says, as solemn a promise as she can make. She doesn't know how much she'd be able to do, really, but it's always been easier for her to fight for someone else's sake than her own, as if some part of her sensed, or just internalized, that she wouldn't deserve it. Against her dad, she has no idea how much good she'd be. Against El's, though, she'd fuck him up if he ever got near her again.

She almost smiles, small and tired but real. "Or Hopper," she adds. "I know he wouldn't."