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[ He doesn't see this as his own fault in particular, because there are quite a few children here and it's not as if Erik's willing to take it upon himself to look after them all. If he had to, then he would, but as it is he knows there are other adults here, a support network of sorts.

It's not as if he feels like he has that obligation here, honestly. But he likes El. She's similar to him in ways that he genuinely wishes she weren't. Her past, her trauma, all things he wouldn't wish on anyone else. And she clearly needs that support, whether or not she realises it or knows how to ask for it. ]

You do look very pretty. [ He offers the compliment with a smile, reaching out to fix one of the flowers a bit. ] Is Alicia a friend of yours?

[ Oh, he makes her entire day, judging by the way she beams. Eleven isn't vain, per se - she just doesn't think she's pretty and longs to be like girls with long hair who look like princesses. ]

My hair is almost long. It will be pretty, too.

[ She takes his hand, tugs him to come along. Leads him to that poor excuse of a waffle tower, as if there's any chance he'll eat it. ]

Yes. She is strange and has flowers in her chest. I like her.

[ That's far too adorable of a reaction, making his smile turn warmer in response. It's not that girls should need to feel pretty, to be fair, but it's also not such a bad thing if she hears it more often, and that she feels pretty as well. ]

It already is. It just needs a little brushing, maybe trimming the ends.

[ Since it's starting to look a little less nice at the tips. Erik's expertise only goes so far, though both he and Magda managed Nina's hair on their own, but that was ten years ago. He'll have to look into that again.

There's a curious raise of his eyebrow at that. Not that someone with flowers in their chest would be the strangest thing Erik has seen, but it paints an odd picture in his head. He decides not to ask for now. ]

It's good you're making more friends. [ He stops to look over the pathetic stack of waffles, then slowly looks over at her. ] Who taught you how to make these?

[ She's halfway through nodding at the suggestion - Hopper always needs to make her sit down and brush her hair, she forgets, and now it's longer than it was then. But he brings up trimming, and she reacts like she did with Hopper. Her free hand comes up, grasping at the ends of her hair. ]

No. [ Firm - perhaps a little too firm. She doesn't shout, but the idea of cutting makes her dig her proverbial heels in. ] It grows. [ She bites her lip. And then, more softly, because she hopes Erik will understand: ] It grows for the first time.

[ Always shaved down at the lab. And now that she's free, she can let it grow, and that matters. But while her kneejerk reaction is a firm rejection, she does try to explain - so it's not unreasonable to assume she just doesn't know that a trim will actually help with that, and take nothing away. When Erik says trim the ends, she just clearly thinks that actually means cut it much shorter. She lacks a frame of reference there.

The waffles provide a good distraction. And by good we mean 'horrible'. Eleven stares at the tower and sees nothing wrong with it. ]

I did. Tony made the waffle iron. I use it. [ And then, if that helps: ] At home. Waffles come out of the freezer. Not the iron.

[ The reaction is a little surprising— not because of her dislike at the thought of cutting her hair, but that she reacts as if he's reaching for a pair of scissors right at this moment. He lifts both hands in a placating gesture, tipping his head in a small nod. ]

I'm not doing anything. [ She can relax. He gets it, really. Doesn't take much to understand why it means so much to her. ] Trimming the ends can help it grow stronger, and faster. But you don't have to do it.

[ And he's not going to push. Maybe he'll find her a comb and brush set, something to tend to her own hair if she's not comfortable with a random adult man doing it. That's a start. ]

So, no one taught you how to make a good batter. [ That might be part of the issue, here. Why they're somehow both burnt and runny at the same time. Lovely. ]

I can teach you a good recipe, if you like. [ He offers with a small smile. ] But first we have an actual lunch. Deal?

[ She looks at him with suspicion - but of the childish kind, not of the trauma kind. There's almost a pout on her face, as if she expects scissors to just materialize out of thin air and take a chunk of her hair out. Her expression shifts when he explains, though. ]

Trimming is good? Not short?

[ She makes her Contemplative Face, at least. And then she huffs. ]

Hopper said. I need to trim. He cut off this. much. [ She holds her fingers apart. It's not actually a very big chunk she indicates - but Erik will remember that her hair was still quite short on her original arrival. ] And then. He cut his thumb. [ Eleven makes a face. It's a bit of a judgmental face. It's also a bit wistful, a bit fond. She misses Hopper.

Speaking of... her lips curl a bit. ]

Compromise. [ She pronounces it a bit off, again. Come and Promise. ] Yes. We deal. You teach, I learn. Lunch, then waffles.

Not short.

[ He lets out a soft, amused huff when she lifts her fingers a good distance apart. Granted, it doesn't look like much, bit it would be noticeable in shorter hair, and more so to her than most other people, even girls her own age. She sounds fond, though, so he has a feeling it's not as traumatizing of an experience as it might have been. ]

Good. [ He nods, then sets out to get their lunch ready. Step one: throwing those waffles away. They'll make better ones. ] We'll make something quick. Scrambled eggs, how does that sound?

[ She worries her lips a bit as if having an internal debate about a life or death matter. Then, finally, she sighs. She fixes Erik with a Very Stern Look the way only young girls truly can. ]

Okay. We trim. [ By 'we' she 100% means 'you'. ] I trust you.

[ The last part comes after a small delay, and a little quieter. Her trust is hard to come by. And she means it, perhaps, in many more ways than just relating to a trim of her hair. She trusts him, full stop.

The scrambled eggs get a nod of approval. ]

I want to whisk.

[ Well, he's not rushing to get a pair of scissors right now. It's something they can do another time, so she can have that little while to get used to the notion. He's not going to push her to do it, obviously, so there's always time for her to change her mind. ]

Thank you.

[ He knows the value of trust, all the more so coming from someone like her, who's been through so much. Trust, real trust in its purest form, is always something valuable, and Erik has too often broken that trust before, for the sake of his own goals, or a notion of 'the greater good'. Not this time.

With a soft chuckle, he fetches the eggs and a bowl, setting them down in front of her along with a fork. ] Knock yourself out, then.

[ Just gonna hand her over the eggs, have fun El. ]

I don't want to knock myself out.

[ Flat stare. Adults have the strangest ideas. Sorry, Erik, the idiom goes over her head. Doesn't even remotely touch her, not even a flyaway strand of hair.

Cracking eggs turns into a bit of a messy affair. She cracks them by hand, but then fishes any shell that gets into the bowl out with her powers to avoid digging into the gloop with her fingers. She's getting most of the eggs into the bowl, at least, and making only a minor mess as she works. Sometimes, she hums a little under her breath - it's subtle and doesn't really find a melody. She's more used t o humming along to Hopper or the radio or the TV. As in all things, she parrots more than anything else.

Once the eggs are in the bowl, she grabs the fork, puts it in... and then goes to clean her slightly sticky hands. The fork is whisking on its own, with a lot more efficiency than she could manage on her own. But with clean hands, Eleven returns to her perch to observe he process, squinting. The fork starts whisking a little harder, likely terrified of the intensity with which the girls stares it down. When she deems the eggs thoroughly whisked to appropriate frothiness, she chucks the fork into the sink and holds the bowl up to Erik. ]

Good?

[ He chuckles softly at that. Right, should have been clearer. ]

It's an idiom. It means "go on and do it, then", or "figure it out on your own".

[ Or more sarcastically, 'you're probably going to do miserably' but he doesn't mean it that way this time around. He is curious to see if she can manage it on her own, though, so he watches her all the while, more surprised that she uses her abilities to whisk than anything else. Not that he can talk, really.

He takes the bowl from her with a smile, reaching for the salt to add a sprinkle to the eggs, the fork coming back on its own just to mix the salt in. ]

I feel like that should be cheating. [ He's doing it too but whatever. He's an adult, he can do what he wants. ] You can cook them too, if you want. I'll watch over and teach you.

[ She's old enough to learn how to use a stove, he thinks. Also it's not the worst thing if she learns more of these skills, be a little more self-sufficient, especially in a place like this. ]

[ Idioms are weird, and she has a hard time picking up on them. This one, she'll try to remember. ]

Knock yourself out.

[ The comment about cheating earns Erik an actual eyeroll, especially when he uses his powers to move the fork, too. She has small arms, Erik. Work smart, not hard. ]

Yes, I want. You teach. you don't burn food, like Hopper. [ A sigh - wistful and exasperated. ] He tries.

[ She joins Erik by the stove, as if pulled by a magnet just on the promise of new knowledge. ]

I'm learning a lot.

[ Bragging? Just a bit. ]

[ He was just teasing her there, he definitely agrees with her way of thinking. It's nice to see her powers coming to her a little more easily, though to be fair these are smaller, simpler tasks. Erik too had difficulty with even lifting a fork once, but time and practice make all the difference. ]

It takes time and patience to learn how to cook. Not everyone can. But it's nice that he tries.

[ Maybe, he thinks, if she learns, then she can cook for Hopper instead. It's a nice thought that he doesn't voice, because in truth he doesn't know for sure that she will be going back home one day. ]

You are. [ He smiles, fondness when he sees how proud she is of it. Learning is a skill too, after all. ] Alright, turn on the stove first. You do it like this—

[ He goes through the steps of lighting one of the burners, slowly and thoroughly, then moves his hands away so she can do it herself. ]

[ Their thoughts are not quite dissimilar here. Eleven doesn't quite know how to translate actions into affection and vice versa, but she does understand the care he shows her when he teaches, when he makes food, when he builds a home. And she tries, in her own ways, to return the sentiment.

Sometimes, Eleven rebels against instructions given by adults. It's almost normal teenage behaviour in that it's pushback on authority, even if for her the source is a different one than for most other kids. With Erik, not quite so much. He has a way of talking to her that Eleven likes and responds well to - even when he tells her no. Even when he has to gentle and redirect her worse impulses. It shows in how attentive she is to him in moments like this. The days of her petulantly refusing to listen halfway through are gone, and she hangs on his words with much more patience - it helps that she knows she can ask him to repeat, or explain differently if she struggles.

It's a level of attentiveness few adults get from her willingly. Erik's earned it, though.

And so, with her tongue peeking out from between her lips, she starts copying what he showed her. Slow and careful, methodical. ]

Do you think. I could light it with my fire powers?

[ It's a hypothetical. And a good thing she has the thought here and now - with other adults, Eleven might not think to workshop the idea before just trying it. This way at least she's learning how to do it without powers before messing around with powers. ]

Edited 2025-08-11 19:51 (UTC)

It's much easier to teach her by showing rather than telling, to be fair. She's a smart girl, and quite capable of absorbing new knowledge, but he's learned early on that too many words will not make things any easier when it comes to El. Like this, it's just a little easier to connect, and not just to get her attention and interest, but to keep it too.

He's still watching in case he needs to intervene, but she follows each step scrupulously, and so there's no reason for him to step in or correct. He only really does that when she proposes her using her abilities to do this.

Not a good idea. These appliances can pull from different energy sources and you could cause an explosion or a fire. It's not safe.

[ She could use her telekinesis to turn the knobs, though. Just like Erik himself could. He just doesn't advise getting fire involved, really very bad idea. Even if they might work differently in a land of magic, maybe it's not the best idea to risk it. ]

[ Her eyebrows go up at that, mouth opening in a soft little 'oh', but she's quick to nod. As it is so often, where other adults might just say no, Erik explains things to her. She doesn't need to understand the inner workings of a stove - magic or otherwise - but now she knows using her fire powers on it would be risky, and has no desire to blow up the kitchen. ]

That... would be stupid. We are not stupid.

[ A firm nod to Erik. As if she has to make sure he understands that, too. Though she also makes a note of the information. In case there's ever a monster in the kitchen and she needs a lot of fire. ]

Here. I think... I did it.

No, we are not.

[ To be fair, there is magic involved here too, but Erik doesn't know to what extent so he thinks it's just safer not to test their luck. It's not as if she saves precious time by doing it the old fashioned way, anyway. ]

Good. Now, pan over the burner, and we need to add some form of grease so the egg won't stick. Oil or butter will do.

[ Personally Erik prefers oil, so he reaches for it and pours a small amount once she puts the frying pan over the fire. ]

That much is enough. Give it a few seconds to warm up, then add the egg mix. Wooden spoon in hand— [ he gives it to her. ] So you can mix the eggs while they're cooking.

[ She brandishes that wooden spoon like a weapon, not because she intends to use it as such, but because her focus is so sharp on what they're doing. She's mouthing as she counts the seconds, until she determines that whatever count she reached must be good enough to be 'a few seconds' of letting the oil warm up. The egg mixture goes into the pan with a little too much gusto - thankfully, most of it gets where it's meant to, but there will definitely need to be a little cleanup. Eleven pushes herself up on tiptoes to mix the eggs. And because she's nothing if not an over-confident little shit sometimes, she declares: ]

Cooking is easy.

[ He still watches, just in case she messes up, but it's hard to make a mistake when cooking scrambled eggs. She's proven capable of listening to directions before too, so he's not especially concerned, though he does smile down at her at that declaration, an eyebrow raised. ]

Don't get too cocky. Cooking takes skill, and patience.

[ He rests a hand on top of her head, gently petting her hair. ]

But you are doing very well so far.

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