Work Text:
El didn’t say a word during Hopper’s funeral. She stared straight ahead, sweating in an ill-fitting black dress, arms folded against her chest, glowering. She didn’t cry or take Will’s offered hand or acknowledge anyone around her. She just sat and stared, pissed at the world, which Joyce understood. Joyce was pretty pissed at the world too.
When they returned home after the service and the refreshments courtesy of Flo, Joyce tried to help. She asked El if she wanted a hug, to watch a movie, some waffles, a visit from Mike. El glared at her and said, “No. Alone” and stormed off, slamming the door to Will’s room where she had been sleeping (Will was sharing with Jonathan while they figured out a more permanent solution.). Joyce hovered behind the closed door, waiting for sobs, but they didn’t come. Nothing but quiet.
There was a reheated casserole for dinner that night that they halfheartedly pushed around their plates without saying much. El finally came out of Will’s room and sat down with them.
“How are you feeling?” Joyce asked.
“Halfway hungry,” El said. She poked at the mush on her plate before she finally looked up at the three of them. “Funeral was bad.”
“Oh sweetie,” Joyce said softly. “I know. They’re never easy.”
“No,” she said. “It was…” She frowned. “Bad. Boring. Too many strangers.”
She wasn’t wrong. Hopper was being celebrated as the Hero of Hawkins, and the funeral was packed with people paying respects to the man who died rescuing others in a horrific mall fire. Not just a man—the chief of police. Not just the chief of police—a veteran. People ate that up. The whole town seemed to be there, plus police from all over, plus the media. Lots of media.
Joyce had had nothing to do with the planning. Owens told her not to worry, that everything was being taken care of, and he knew she had her hands full now that she had taken in the girl.
“The girl?” she had asked. “You mean his grieving daughter?”
“Yes.” Owens put his hand over hers. She jerked her hand away. “Now Joyce, there are still people interested in her. Especially after the mall incident. I think it would be best to not call too much attention to her at the funeral.”
“Go to hell,” she said, standing up.
She watched El who seemed to be struggling with her thoughts. “People talked, but not friends,” El said. “And picture wasn’t him.”
“What do you mean?” Jonathan asked.
She went into Will’s room and came back with the funeral program. She placed it on the table, and Joyce noticed that El had scribbled over the unfamiliar name “James” on the front. “Bad picture. Too serious.”
Joyce kind of understood what El meant. It was an old photo, probably taken at some kind of police event. Hop did look serious. Or maybe he was bored. Either way, there was no familiar smirk or grin on his face. It’s not that he looked angry; angry would have been an improvement because it would’ve been real and it would’ve been him. In this picture, he just looked sort of dull. No real expression at all. Not like himself.
“And…” Then El stopped. She started to sniffle, possibly her first cry of the day.
“What?” Joyce passed her a napkin. “It’s ok.”
“No,” she said. She was crying harder now. “Not ok. Bad thought.”
“You can say it,” Will said. “We’re listening.”
A few sniffles before she said, “The strangers said good dad to Sara. But… but me too.”
“Oh honey,” Joyce said. “Come here.”
El walked over to Joyce who pulled her into a tight hug. “Definitely you too. He was your dad and you were his daughter and he loved you so much.”
“What if we had a do-over?” Will asked. They all stared at him. “Just our friends, and we can all say whatever we want to and talk about what really happened at the mall and everything else.”
“That’s a great idea,” Jonathan said. “We’ll get everyone together and celebrate Hopper.”
“Yeah?” El asked. “Tomorrow?”
They all looked at Joyce. “How many people were you thinking?”
“Whoever was there at the mall I guess,” Will said. El nodded. “So us. Mike, Dustin, Lucas and Max.”
“Nancy,” Jonathan added. He sighed. “And Steve.”
“Ice cream girl,” El said.
“That’s Robin,” Will told her. “And Erica.”
“Bald…eagle,” El said. “Yes?”
Jonathan laughed. “Murray. Mom, how do you know Murray exactly?”
“Acquaintance of Hop’s. Wait, do you know Murray?”
“Long story,” Jonathan said. “So what do you think?”
El with her first smile in a long time. Her two kind, sensitive boys. All waiting. “Sure.”
“I’ll find better pictures,” El said, leaving the table, her food forgotten.
Joyce smiled at her sons. “I’m so proud of you two. It’s such a sweet idea to make her feel better. She misses him so much.”
The boys looked at each other for a second, silently communicating something, before Jonathan said, “I’m hoping it’ll make you feel better too. We know you miss him too.”
“I do,” she admitted. “And I guess we’re having a party tomorrow. What do you need me to do?”
Another shared glance. “Nothing,” Will said. “We’ll handle everything.”
--
The whole group came. She had assumed Murray was on his way home after the funeral, but he was staying a few extra nights in a dingy, local motel because he was curious about how “shit would be covered up this time.” She didn’t feel the same way, but she was glad for his presence, another adult in a sea of teenagers. And he brought alcohol.
Steve and Robin came with pizza. Nancy and Mike brought drinks. The kids lugged all the chairs and pillows they could find in the Byers’ house outside, and others sat on the ground. No one complained. El found a few pictures of Hop (from an old album retrieved from the cabin, Joyce’s yearbook and some taken recently), and Jonathan had gotten them blown up. Five of the pictures were taped to a blank canvas of Will’s, displayed on an easel not too far from the pizzas.
The group had been sitting for a while eating when Mike suddenly stood up on one of the chairs. “El wants to say something. Everyone be quiet.”
El took his place on the chair. “Yesterday was stupid,” she said. “Today is better. I want to talk about Hopper now. When I’m done, you talk about him too.” She took a deep breath. “He found me and took me where it was warm. He gave me food and clothes. He taught me things so we wouldn’t be stupid. He read to me and we played games and watched TV. He called me kid but in a nice way. He could get mad sometimes and I got mad too, but then it was ok and we were friends again. He was a good man. Not a bad man. I miss him a lot.”
Joyce started tearing up. When El got off the chair, saying Mike should talk now, she found Joyce and hugged her hard. “Today is sad,” El said. “But better.”
“It is. I’m so glad we’re doing this. And what you said was beautiful.”
“Uh,” Mike said from the chair. “Hopper was kind of crazy sometimes, but he loved El. And he rescued her. And he tried to keep us all safe. I wish he hadn’t died.”
“Is this just a kid thing?” Murray asked as he walked up to Joyce and El. “Or can I say something? And would I have to stand on the chair? I’d rather not.”
“This should be good,” Joyce said. El smiled and went off to sit with her friends. “Keep it fairly clean, will you? There are kids here.”
“Bald eagle!” Dustin cheered when Murray went near the chair.
“Bald eagle!” Erica yelled. Then the rest of the kids started chanting. “Bald eagle! Bald eagle!”
“Yes, yes,” Murray said. “Hilarious. Can I speak now?”
When no one said anything else, he cleared his throat. “Well, children,” Murray began, “I have known Jim for a few years. Kind of a pain in the as…butt. Loud. Could be obnoxious. But once he was on your side, he was on your side. Loyal. Somewhat funny. I’ll miss him too.”
Nancy spoke and Steve spoke. Will spoke, thanking Hopper for finding him, for saving him, for going with him to his doctor’s appointments even though he didn’t have to. Jonathan said something similar, praising him for being there for his family when everyone else thought they were crazy. Jonathan looked over at an again tearing up Joyce, and said, “He was one of the few people who could make my mom laugh. They fought sometimes, but she laughed and smiled more when he was around.”
Murray sat down next to her and handed her another beer which she gratefully accepted. “I don’t especially like kids, Joyce, but you got some good ones.”
“I know,” she said. “Tell me again how you know Jonathan.”
“Well,” he started, but then stood up suddenly, ready to attack. “Car!” he shouted, pointing as a car came down the street and parked in front of the house. “Does anyone recognize this car?”
“Um…yeah,” Mike said. “It’s my mom’s.”
“Are you absolutely certain?” Murray asked.
Everyone seemed to freeze as they watched Karen Wheeler exit her car. Both Mike and Nancy walked tentatively toward her, but she shook her head and headed straight to Joyce. She carried a huge platter of cookies.
Joyce stood up, uncomfortable. “Hi Karen.”
“Hi,” she said. “I overheard my kids discussing this event, and I thought I’d bring by some cookies. They have M&Ms in them.”
“Thank you,” Joyce said. “Um…do you want to sit down? There’s some pizza left.”
Karen looked past her to where Dustin and Lucas were standing on chairs, telling a story about Hopper kicking someone’s ass, arguing over the small details. “Did my kids do this too? Make speeches?”
“Sort of. Nancy more than Mike.”
“So my kids, who barely talk to me and talk even less to Ted, came over here and eulogized Jim Hopper?” She sounded more confused than anything else. “I didn’t even know they knew him. I mean other than when they were in the car when he stopped me for speeding. But…I’m starting to think there’s a lot I don’t know about a lot of things. Am I right?”
“I…” Joyce did not know how to answer that. Karen set down her platter of cookies and walked over to the easel. Joyce followed her and watched her study the pictures El chose. One of Hopper as a teenager, goofy and gawky, not quite filled in yet. One of him holding baby Sara. One of him with Powell and Callahan, standing outside the station, all of them laughing. A recent one of him and Joyce. She stared wistfully at that photo. They were sitting at her kitchen table, smoking, smiling, not realizing Jonathan was there until they saw the flash of a camera. And the last one, a photo she had taken, was of him and El. They had brought over a cake and a movie for Will’s birthday, and El, half-asleep on the couch, had snuggled into Hop’s side, and he had put his arm around her. They both looked so content.
Joyce decided she would frame that photo for El.
Karen pointed at the teenage Hopper. “Did you know he tried to cheat off my math tests?”
Joyce nodded, feeling herself relax just a bit. “We all tried to cheat off your math tests.”
Karen smirked and studied the photo some more. “He sure had some awkward years. Whoever would’ve guessed he’d end up so hot?”
Joyce laughed, relaxing even further. “Karen!”
“What?” she asked. “Like you didn’t think he was hot. I mean the ass on that man. You had to have noticed his ass.”
“Yeah,” Joyce said, feeling no need to lie now. “I did. It was a fine ass.”
“Wait,” Hopper said to Joyce, lying next to her in bed. “You and the kids put together this event to celebrate me and my bravery and general heroics, and you and Karen Wheeler are standing around talking about my ass?”
Joyce snorted. “Yes.”
“So I’m just a piece of meat to you ladies?” He was trying but failing to hide his amusement.
“Obviously,” she said. “Now may I continue?”
“Go ahead. Sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt the objectification.”
She rolled her eyes at him and went back to describing her conversation with Karen.
“Joyce,” Karen said, sounding serious again. “I’m going to go now and let you all do your thing. I really did just mean to drop off the cookies and not get in the way. Maybe someday we can talk about our kids and this town and the weirdness. I don’t know if Nancy or Mike will ever talk to me the way your kids talk to you, but I’d really like to know what’s going on. It doesn’t have to be right away. I know you’re grieving, and the last thing I want to do is add any kind of stress. But someday, ok? I’ll bring the wine.”
“Yeah,” Joyce said. “That sounds good.”
Karen offered her a small smile. “Good. Call me anytime.”
“I never wanted to relive those days,” Joyce said to Hopper. “They were hard on us all. We missed you so much. But do you know why I’m reliving this tonight? Why I’m telling you all about it now?”
He didn’t say anything but managed to look a little embarrassed. He knew.
“I can’t even imagine what you have been through. And I know as much as you try to hide it, you’re still in a ton of pain. I know that you’re not sleeping. That there are nightmares. Which is completely understandable. But what you said to me today…”
“I’m sorry.” He reached for her, held her tight “I shouldn’t have said it.”
“You’re not a curse,” she said. “Or a black hole. How could you even think things like that about yourself?”
“I don’t know,” he said. She clung to him, because even after all this time, she needed the reassurance that he was still here, still alive, hadn’t disappeared when she wasn’t looking. “You believe something about yourself for so long…”
“I need to tell you what I said at your party. I was the closing act.”
He kissed the top of her head. “I’m all ears.”
Not that long after Karen left, Joyce could tell things were beginning to wind down. The kids were devouring the cookies, but she could sense people getting antsy, ready to leave. She couldn’t let the day end without saying something. She walked toward the chairs and stood up on one. It was her turn.
Everyone turned their attention to her. She reminded herself of the audience: her boys, his girl and their friends. And she started talking.
“I’ve known Hopper since we were kids,” she said. “I knew that weird-looking teenager in the photo. We were friends. And then he moved away, and I didn’t see him for a long time. But we reconnected when he helped my family. He helped us in so many ways. Making sure we were safe. Making sure all of you were safe. He wanted everyone he loved to be safe. El, sweetheart, he loved you so very much and wanted you safe and happy. Like many of you have mentioned, he was loud and stubborn and hotheaded. But he was also funny and caring and brave and good. And we loved him for it.”
I loved him for it.
“I loved him for it,” she said, choking up. She wasn’t sure what else to say after that so she stepped off the chair. Jonathan and Will walked over to her and both hugged her. Her sweet boys. And then she looked behind them to El.
His sweet girl.
El said, “He loved you too. I know this.” She handed Joyce a cookie and went back to where Mike was.
“Not a curse,” Joyce said to him now, her hands running over his bare shoulders and back, wishing she could heal every last scar. “Promise me you’ll never think that about yourself again.”
He frowned. “I wish I could, but...”
“Will you try something for me then?” she asked. A quick kiss before he nodded. “If you start feeling that way, will you think about this event that the kids planned on their own to remember and celebrate you? Will came up with the initial idea and Jonathan handled pictures and music and Steve and Robin and the Wheelers brought food and drinks. The mall fire story is a complete joke, but you’re still a hero to these kids, especially your daughter. Hell, even Mike said something nice and you terrorized him on a daily basis.”
He scoffed at that. “I did not.”
Her hands continued to roam down his back, going just a bit lower A light pat. “And Karen Wheeler complimented this ass.”
“And you did too which means a lot more to me,” he said, kissing her. “And you told a bunch of kids that you loved me.”
“I did,” she said. “I do. Was El right about you loving me too?”
“She was.”
“Good,” she said. “Will you try to remember all that?”
“I’ll try.” He sat up to look at her. “I promise I’ll try.”
“Thank you,” she said. Another kiss. “You’re not a curse. Never ever a curse.”
--
After everyone had gone home and the pizza boxes had been thrown away and the easel had been brought back inside, El said to Joyce. “Still sad. But less mad. But…”
“But what?”
“I was going to say other things, but I forgot,” El said. She looked down at her hands, toyed with the blue hairband on her wrist. “I wish I told everyone other things about him.”
Joyce sat down next to her. “We can talk about Hopper whenever you want to. I want to hear everything you want to tell me. And if you want to hear, I have tons of stories from when he was a kid.”
El giggled. “That picture of him is so funny. Why is he making that face?”
“Did you know he used to get in trouble a lot at school?”
El’s mouth dropped wide open. “He was a bad kid?”
“He was a funny kid,” Joyce said, reaching out to stroke El’s hair. El leaned into her. “Not bad really. Just didn’t like school or teachers very much.”
“I think he would’ve liked today better than yesterday. Because today was friends and pizza. Not strangers.”
“He definitely would’ve preferred today.”
“I wish he could’ve heard us,” El said. “Even though people said he was loud and crazy, everyone meant it in good ways. Even Mike.”
“He would’ve liked hearing those things,” Joyce agreed, continuing to stroke El’s soft hair. “Maybe he’d be embarrassed, but he’d be happy too. Maybe he’d cry.”
El frowned. “I don’t think so.”
“Maybe not,” Joyce said. “You know, I think Will and Jonathan went to listen to some music so it’s just us girls now. How about we eat the last few cookies and tell Hopper stories? Sound good?”
“Yes. Tell me all about him being a bad kid.”
“I wasn’t that bad,” Hopper protested. sounding sleepy. “What the hell kind of stories did you tell my kid?”
“Nothing too crazy. A lot of your teenage exploits aren’t suitable for children’s ears.”
“I agree.”
“So we’ll tell them when they’re older.”
“Or never.” He turned off the light and said softly, “Joyce?”
“Hmm,” she asked, settling into his arms again. Close enough to hear his heartbeat, feel the warmth of his skin. Close enough to know he was there.
“Thank you. For doing that with the kids. For telling me tonight.”
“You’re welcome.”
He fell asleep first which was a rarity. She positioned herself so she could whisper “Not a curse” one last time before closing her eyes and falling asleep herself.
--
Over M&M cookies and milk, El told Joyce all about Hopper’s triple-decker Eggo Extravaganzas and how they were the best but they weren’t “everyday food.” Joyce told her some of the school pranks Hopper had been involved in.
El yawned a few times, and Joyce realized how late it was getting. “Why don’t we start getting ready for bed?”
Joyce was getting pretty tired too. It had been a long couple of days, and her bed suddenly sounded really appealing.
“One more story?” El asked. “Please? Can you just tell me how you met him?” A slight, hopeful smile, and Joyce couldn’t refuse her. After all this girl had been through, how could anyone say no?
“Ok,” Joyce said. “Last story for tonight and then we go to bed.” El grinned wider and curled up next to her.
“Once upon a time the smallest girl in class and the biggest boy in class became friends…”