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Room was dimly lit with the slightly blue and orange aura, coming from the damned Russian bunker. The air was thick with fog and it was suffocating. She could hardly breathe. Tear after tear fell from her eyes, breath coming in ragged gasps as she tried to wrap her head around what just happened.
She flipped the keys. The machine stopped. The Gate closed.
She exited the control room and went downstairs. And she stood there. She just stood there, and he was gone. The sobs came next. He was gone. Hopper was dead. She felt like her whole soul was shattered to pieces. Her heart ripped out of her body. Why did it happen? Why now, when life was supposed to go back to normal? After everything they’ve already been through?
She heard murmur of voices around her, heavy steps following her. She just couldn’t stop staring. Seeking out any sign of movement from where he was last standing, anything. A hand on her shoulder and violent shove turned her around only to lay her eyes on Murray. He asked her where Jim was, but she couldn’t make a sound, her throat was constricted, a giant lump that didn’t allow her to make any coherent sentence. She started to sob even heavier.
The next moments passed in a blur. She remembers running alongside Murray through the vents, then in the dark corridors of the bunker up until they were escorted outside by US Government. She looked around trying to find Will, to make sure her baby was alive and well. Soon she spotted him and in no time he was in her arms again, living and breathing. She sobbed hard, clinging to her son. Joyce saw El in the corner of her eye, trying to find her savior, her beloved dad. Their eyes locked, communicating without words, as El started crying, understanding, sharing grief.
The group was soon found by Doc Owens, telling them to go to their house, try to hopefully get some rest, saying he would contact Joyce as soon as they establish a story and find out more. She doesn’t remember getting there, must’ve been Johnatan driving the car. After bidding their sons and Eleven goodnight, Joyce moved to her bedroom and sat on its edge. Her skin was clammy and wet. She lied down carefully on her side, palm under her cheek. She wanted to go and take a shower, to wash away the events of the past couple of hours, but she couldn’t move. She was so fucking tired.
She inhaled deeply, the adrenaline wearing off. Deep breath in. Tears stinging her eyes like hot wires burning awfully. Deep breath out. They threated to fall, and she let them. She wept for what felt like hours, feeling sad and angry and hurt, until there were no more tears.
Silence laughed at her. Joyce wanted to press her head harder against the pillow. She wanted to hide inside it. She wanted to escape from the pain, from the ashes that settled on her skin, as heavy as rain. They blocked the passage of oxygen like a filter. She wanted to leave her body in the hole of sorrow. She’d do anything not to feel this kind of penetrating pain, but she couldn’t. She needed to breathe, and survive and be strong. She had to be there for El, to support her, to be her guardian, the person the girl could trust and confide in. Little one already suffered through more than any person ever should. Joyce made it her personal goal to give Eleven as much normality as possible, given the impossible times they found themselves in.
Sighing, feeling completely numb, she stood up, willing her legs to walk her to the bathroom. After scrubbing off the sweat and smell, she quickly dressed in shorts and an oversized t-shirt and returned to her den. Joyce lied down, forcing her eyes closed, only sleep wouldn’t come, replaced by the view of slightly smiling Hopper, just before he...
She sat up. There was no way she was going to sleep, and given that every time she closed her eyes she saw Hopper and his small smile nodding at her, she couldn’t even close her eyes.
She decided to check on El, see if she needed anything. As if Joyce could give her the only thing that could soothe her, she thought that seeing how she was doing wasn’t going to cause any harm, not more than there’s already been done. Standing up, she padded lightly to Will’s room, now temporary occupied by Eleven, as he was sleeping with Johnatan in his room until they sort out sleeping arrangements. The doors were opened 3 inches, so Joyce slightly opened them wider and peeked inside the room.
Eleven was lying on the duvet, staring at the ceiling, crying quietly. The girl turned her head with a start, spotting movement in the corner of the room, where she saw Joyce.
“Hi baby” Joyce whispered in the dead of the silence “How are you doing?”
El looked at her through misty eyes, opened her mouth and closed it again quickly, not knowing what to say. She inhaled sharply and whimpered, sitting up the bed. In a few quick strides Joyce joined her and wrapped her tightly against her chest. Eleven let out a choked sob, clinging to Joyce as a drowning man would cling to a lifeline. Older woman felt tears building in the corner of her eyes, and rocked her back and forth, murmuring soothing words.
“I’m so, so very sorry sweetheart” she whispered, holding the crying child “My sweet girl” Joyce said, letting tears fall down her cheeks, disappearing in Eleven’s hair.
The two of them sat there until El’s sobs quieted down. She slowly disentangled herself from the older woman’s embrace. They locked eyes, Joyce’s hand coming to caress the girl’s cheek lightly but warmly. “Do you want me to stay with you tonight?” Joyce inquired, bowing her head a little when Eleven looked down. She only nodded, not trusting herself to speak, worrying that more tears would come out. Joyce stood up, moved around the bed and lied down, suggesting that El’d do the same. Girl complied, lying down on her side, facing Joyce. She didn’t speak, just quietly sniffed from time to time.
“Can you- hold me?” Eleven asked, staring at Joyce with wide eyes, as if she was afraid the woman would disappear from her sight. “Of course, honey” Joyce said “Come here” she opened her arms and El snuggled up to her, resting her head on Joyce’s shoulder, as the woman wrapped her arm around her, holding her tightly. Eleven inhaled deeply, trying to calm herself down. “Try to go to sleep baby” Joyce said after a moment “I will be here the whole time” Joyce felt El nodding, and she lowered her head, kissing the top of girl’s head.
She didn’t speak anymore, and neither did El. No words were needed, really. She understood what El must be feeling. She was feeling it too, more or less. She lost her best friend, her beloved Chief. Immerse guilt followed sadness, deep as an ocean. She knew it wasn’t her fault, she did what she had to do, but it didn’t make the feeling go away. She missed him. So fucking much. She missed his crooked smirk, his cheap jokes and their never-ending bickering. Even when she was pissed and upset at him, she knew she would always count on him. She loved him.
The thought came to her as easily as breathing, and it startled her a little. She truly, utterly, completely loved him, and now he was gone. She will never tell him that, never speak to him, never see him again.
Lost in thought she noticed Eleven stirring a little, but her breathing was deep and even, which meant she finally fell asleep. Joyce kissed the top of her head once more, and looked up at the ceiling. She didn’t want to close her eyes again, afraid she would see Hopper just before he died, but her eyelids grew heavier and heavier, invisible force pulling them down.
Just before sleep overtook her, she shared one more look with the man she loved.