Chapter Text
A curse. That’s what he thought he was. A curse coming after the people he loved, a curse that took the life from his sweet daughter, a curse that kept on feeding from his suffering.
A curse that seemed to start going away little by little with the little blessings. Eleven for starters, his hot tempered, powerful girl. She made him a dad again, he was someone’s dad, her dad. And he was happy, finally happy with that.
Joyce. His childhood best friend, his high school sweetheart and the woman he started to fall for again after all the Upside Down shit. The woman who showed him what resilience truly meant and who made him smile and Jesus, she got on his nerves too sometimes. But he loved her. So much.
He had asked her out before all of this happened, she stood him up, he guessed it was because she wasn’t ready just yet. And then she asked him out, on that secret Russian base while they were fucking undercover. It felt right then.
But the curse. The curse got to them, to him this time and damn it, he really thought he was going to die. He didn’t die, but he left them, he left his daughter, left HER.
Sometimes in the cold nights, right after all the torture and the gas exposure, he thought of them. What where they doing? Were they alright? Was El with her?
And then Dmitri came up to him with a crazy plan and he allowed himself to have hope. Hope. Such a curious word, full of meaning and bullshit.
He allowed himself to hope, and it blew up. Joyce was in danger because of him. The curse got her. He told Dmitri as much. Damn it. She was supposed to be safe, he was supposed to keep her safe, to make her feel safe. And he failed. Miserably.
They were going to die, if that thing got to them, they were dead. But the door opened and Dmitri mentioned something of a miracle and maybe, just maybe, if the guards weren’t on the other side, they got the damn miracle.
Joyce. Jesus, he felt like he was dead and reached heaven’s doors. What if that thing had gotten to him? Was he dead? No, he could feel her arms around him, her head on his chest. She was there and he had to look at her in the eyes just to see that it was real, that she wasn’t another dream.
A miracle, Dmitri had said. And maybe, just maybe, the curse was finally broken. With her right in his arms, the miracle. Joyce. His Joyce. A miracle.