Chapter Text
August 4…
It has been a while since Lonnie came back home, and her life hasn't gotten any better at all. Maybe she hoped that somehow she could change him. Maybe she had convinced herself that if she loved him enough, if she stayed quiet enough, if she became everything he wanted her to be, things would finally get easier. A thing was sure, they never got better.
Every morning with him felt the same. Wake up. Pretend to be okay. Do what he wants. Sleep. Repeat.
Two months ago, she had hoped that this day would bring her happiness, and maybe… maybe a long-lost friend. Now, this felt more like a miracle than a wish, given what happened less than two weeks ago. Today was his birthday. Hopper’s birthday.
She wondered where he was, whether he was celebrating. Whether he was thinking about her the way she still thought about him when the house was quiet, and nobody was looking.
It started like any other day, but there was a strange stillness around her that felt almost oppressive. Usually, she would have woken up with a hint of hope, a flicker of happiness to brighten her morning. But now, all she felt was a deep fatigue that settled into her bones, making everything seem heavier.
In mornings like this, Lonnie was not home, so she had the house all to herself. Soon after she entered the kitchen, where a week ago her happiness had disappeared just as his had, Joyce walked over to the counter and prepared a coffee, hoping she would find comfort in her favorite flavor.
As she was sitting down, the girl grabbed a magazine from over the table, and as she wished not to think about her one-night stand for a while, Jim failed to disappear from her mind.
Usually, a cup of coffee would have cheered her up. Now, after she emptied half of it, she felt nauseous, anxious, and lightheaded. Typically, her mood was in a better place. However, she just felt sicker and sicker and couldn’t name why. Ignoring her condition, the day went by until the afternoon, when she couldn't ignore her pain anymore.
The nausea had never really left. Joyce pressed a hand against the kitchen counter and closed her eyes.
Something wasn't right.
At first, she blamed stress. God knew she had had enough of it.
But then another thought crept into her mind. A thought that would destroy her.
Her eyes snapped open.
"No..."
She pushed away from the counter and crossed the room almost too fast, pulling open a drawer until she found what she was looking for.
A calendar.
Her hands trembled as she flipped through the pages. July. June. Then back to August. She started counting days. Once. Twice. A third time because surely she had made a mistake.
But the numbers didn't change.
The color drained from her face.
Her period was late.
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August 5…
The night before, Lonnie didn't come home, and that, in a way, relieved her. As she was lost in her million thoughts, a voice snapped her out of the trance.
“Miss Maldonado.” A doctor said. She looked up, still lost somewhere far away, but she prepared herself for what was about to be confirmed. Joyce sat on the edge of the chair, twisting her hands together while the doctor reviewed the results.
When he finally looked up, the gentle shift in his expression revealed the truth before he could even speak the words.
“You are pregnant.” The doctor's voice echoed in her head a number of times.
A baby. She is pregnant. She has a baby in her tummy. She will give birth to a beautiful human being. That thought of that alone freaked her out.
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The walk home felt endless.
Joyce barely remembered leaving the doctor's office. One moment she had been sitting in that chair, listening to the confirmation she had dreaded all day, and the next she was standing outside, the summer heat pressing against her skin.
Pregnant. The word echoed through her mind with every step she took.
Pregnant.
She passed familiar streets without really seeing them. Children were playing in front of their houses. A woman was hanging laundry outside. Somewhere in the distance, a radio was playing music. The world kept moving as if nothing had happened. As if her entire life hadn't just changed.
By the time she reached home, her legs felt weak. She fumbled with her keys before finally managing to unlock the door.
The house was quiet. For once, she was grateful for that.
Joyce stepped inside and closed the door behind her. For a moment, she simply stood there, staring at the floor.
Then she made her way to the kitchen and sat down at the table. The same table where she had spent countless mornings drinking coffee. The same table where she had dreamed about a future that now felt impossibly far away.
A baby. The words still didn't feel real. She was twenty-one years old. Twenty-one.
She wasn't married. She barely knew what she wanted from life. Most days, she was still trying to figure out who she was.
And now she was going to be someone's mother. Her eyes filled with tears before she even realized she was crying.
Slowly, she lowered a hand to her stomach.
Nothing had changed physically. She looked the same. Felt the same.
Yet somehow everything was different. Fear settled heavily in her chest.
Fear of the future.
Fear of making mistakes.
Fear of not being enough.
But beneath all of that, hidden underneath the panic and uncertainty, there was something else.
Something softer.
A strange feeling she couldn't quite explain. The thought that there was a tiny life growing inside her. The thought terrified her. And yet she couldn't ignore the small flicker of protectiveness that came with it.
Joyce wiped at her eyes and looked down at her hands.
Then reality returned.
Lonnie.
The thought hit her so suddenly that she almost laughed from the absurdity of everything.
Of course.
Lonnie was her boyfriend. Lonnie was the father. That was how they were supposed to work.
People got together. They had children. They built families.
She held onto that explanation because it was familiar. Because it gave shape to something that felt completely out of control.
The alternative was too complicated.
Too painful.
It led her down roads she wasn't ready to walk. Roads that ended with memories of another night. Another person.
Jim Hopper. Her chest tightened immediately.
She thought about his smile. About the way he looked at her.
About the way he had kissed her. For a brief moment, she allowed herself to wonder where he was.
Whether he was happy.
There was no point in thinking about Jim.
He was gone. He chose this. Lonnie was here. Lonnie was the father.
The more she repeated it, the easier it became to believe.