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[ She nods. ]

Yes. Because, we are not stupid.

[ Eleven says that in the same way she says 'We protect each other'. Something she's been told and clutches to. What she means is: We're smart enough to stay safe, even if they both know they might not be able to regardless.

She doesn't like it - Eleven has very little fear of danger to her own safety and well-being. It's the people she cares for who she wants to stay safe and out of harm. Having no control over that unsettles her deeply.

Quickly, she wipes at her eyes, and tries really, really hard to look tough. ]

If you die. Again. I kick your ass.

No, we are not.

[ He doesn't care so much for his own safety, but he's far more careful now, if only to avoid serious injury and further upset Laura, or El. She may be borrowing from Laura's upset in part, but it seems to him that there is genuine concern there, too. He really doesn't want her to worry about him like this.

He chuckles softly at that weak attempt at a threat. Sure, El, good luck with that. Not that he believes her in the slightest. ]

I'll keep that in mind.

[ He brushes his thumb across her cheek, lifting himself on his knees so he's close enough to press a kiss to her forehead. ]

Have you had breakfast yet?

[ Her breath hiccups a little bit at the forehead kiss. Eyes squeezing shut. For a moment she remembers Hopper pulling her close. And it hurts. It hurts so bad, because Hopper's not her Dad, but he was going to be, and Erik is not her Dad either, but he died and that hurt the same way, and she doesn't know where to put that hurt when it's Laura who lost her father. So before she answers, Eleven ends up clumsily wrapping her arms around Erik's shoulders and stepping close enough to hide her face in the fabric of his shirt. That's easier than forehead kisses and grief, even if it feels selfish.

And after a moment, quietly: ]

Breakfast together?

[ It's not as clumsy as she might worry. Erik is quick to respond even before he fully processes the gesture, arms wrapping around her and holding her tightly. Experience has taught him when a little girl needs this kind of comfort, and he doesn't hesitate to give her just that.

He smiles a bit when she speaks, palm resting against her back. ]

I can make pancakes, if you like.

[ Or waffles, he's not picky. ]

And waffles.

[ It comes muffled against his clothes. Quiet and just about audible only because his head is right there.

Eleven feels things in big ways, and struggles to work through them. It's a miracle this realm hasn't suffered a full blown temper tantrum from her - yet. For now, she stays in the hug for a bit before pulling back. Not far, but far enough to look back at Erik.

The smile is watery and wobbly, but it is a smile.]

[ That gets a short laugh from him, quiet and warm. ]

We can do waffles.

[ Maybe not both. But she's sad and crying and maybe he's just a little weak and easy to convince either way.

He leans away from the hug when she does, meeting her smile with one of his own. His is less wobbly and more reassuring, and he cups her cheek one last time, before he gets to his feet, reaching for her hand. ]

Come on, then.

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