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Everything is fine. Joyce isn't sure how many years she had to wait to be able to say that. It's over; it has been over for years now. No more upside down, no more monsters lurking in the shadows. No more anything that could take her kids or Hopper from her. If she's being honest, life has never been this good before—if you ignore the nightmares and the way she still jumps at every sound, terrified that a part of this place somehow managed to survive.
"Hop," she whispers, rolling over in bed and gently nudging her husband. "Hopper! Are you awake?"
He groans. "Well, now I am. What time is it?"
"Almost nine now." Joyce sits up, looking down at him. He rubs his eyes, yawning. "I was thinking maybe we could get up now, and then after breakfast, we can get everything ready for when the kids come. Do we have some Eggos left? And I think there's still the laundry we hung up to dry in Will's room..."
"Joyce," Hopper cuts her off, the sleep he just woke up from still clearly audible in his voice.
"Yeah?"
"You worry too much."
She scoffs, crossing her arms. Hasn't he known her for long enough already to understand that that's just how she is? "Our kids are coming home for spring break, and we haven't done anything yet."
The house has been strangely quiet, with the three of them away at college. Joyce still finds herself checking El's room at night to see if she fell asleep over a book with her lights on again or making way too much food that she and Hop can't possibly eat on their own. She's been a mom for so long, she isn't sure she knows how to act differently now that they're out there, living their own lives.
"I know they're comin'. They're my kids, too, in case you haven't noticed." He reaches for her arm, slowly pulling her back down. "Let's just stay in bed a little longer. They won't be here for another few hours."
Joyce sighs, but she does allow herself to rest her head against his chest as he wraps his arm around her. It is pretty cozy. "Okay," she mumbles, a yawn escaping her lips. "But just five more minutes."
He hums in agreement, pressing his nose into her hair. "You sleep bad again this night?" he asks.
"That obvious?" She's pretty sure the only reason she doesn't feel the tiredness is because she's too occupied thinking about their kids. "But, uh, yeah. The whole insomnia thing has been... fun, last couple nights."
Hopper trails his thumb over her arm. It's silly, but something about the way he holds her just makes her feel safe, protected. "I know. I can feel you moving 'n shit: tossing and turning."
"Oh, sorry." Almost instinctively, Joyce pulls back a little. Lonnie used to get mad at her over her insomnia, said that just because she couldn't sleep, she shouldn't pull him down with her. What a jerk. She hadn't even known Hopper noticed it, too. For some reason, she had always assumed that he's a heavier sleeper than Lonnie had been. But with all his nightmares, of course, he doesn't miss how she spins around like a god-damn rotisserie chicken next to him some nights, desperate to find a position that allows any rest.
"Don't be sorry. This stuff's way more annoying for you than it is for me."
She can feel herself relax at that, letting out a breath she hadn't even known she was holding in. Why does she still get so freaked out about stuff like this? Hopper isn't going to start pulling the same shit Lonnie did, she knows him better than that. And yet, the over twenty years she spent with this asshole did stick with her—maybe more than she would like to admit sometimes.
Joyce allows herself to stay in his arms until 9:30—way longer than she had intended—but then she finally sits up. When she turns back to her husband, her lips already parted to ask him if he can make the eggs this time, he holds out the pack of camels that had been lying on his nightstand, tapping against it with that smug look on his face she knows all too well. She sighs. "Yeah, okay. But after that..."
"Got it, boss."
They step out onto the porch, and Hopper lights one of the cigarettes. The air smells like rain and spring in the best way possible. They're right in that sweet spot where everything starts blooming, but his allergies have yet to come in. Soon enough, he's going to start sneezing, and then he's gonna complain to her about it just like every year.
She lets him pass the cigarette to her, taking a drag herself. "You know," she whispers into the comfortable silence between them. "it's crazy we still do this."
"What, smoking?" He cocks an eyebrow. "I know it's unhealthy 'n all, but it just feels too damn good. You don't wanna quit, do you?"
"No! I mean, like, we used to smoke together in high school, and we still do today. It's been over thirty years." They really are getting old.
"Yeah, and now we're married and have three kids. Talk about a plot twist. I sure as hell didn't expect that back then." Hopper chuckles, almost as if to himself. He takes the cigarette back from her, staring out onto their lawn.
"That's exactly what I'm talking about! Isn't that crazy to you?"
Hopper thinks about it for a few seconds, then shrugs. "I guess. Honestly, I'm just glad it turned out this way, you know. I like bein' your husband."
He leans down, cupping her face with his free hand and pulling her into a kiss. Joyce's body reacts as if on autopilot, her arms wrapping around the back of his neck as she pulls him closer. She just can't help herself. Not with this man, not when she has never felt this in love with a person before him. His mustache brushes against her lip, and it tickles slightly.
He's still smiling when they pull away. "Might wanna get everything out of our system now before the kids come home," he whispers into her ear.
"Oh my god, you pig!" Joyce elbows him in the side. She can't believe he would even suggest that. There's hardly time today. Not that she hates the idea. Of course, she doesn't, but still...
He just grins, and she turns away so he can't see her cheeks flush. "Think the right term is cop, not pig."
"You know damn well that's not what I meant."
Hopper raises his hands, almost mockingly apologetic. "Didn't know finding my wife attractive was a crime."
Joyce snorts. "I'm in my pajamas; my hair's a mess. I haven't showered in like three days! There's hardly anything attractive 'bout me right now."
He presses a kiss to the top of her head, his forearms resting on her shoulders as he pulls her closer. Somewhere in between kisses, he must've discarded of their cigarette because both his hands are free now. "Nah, I think you're very attractive right now," he mumbles into her hair. "Come on, you know you want to."
"Jim Hopper!"
"What?" He pulls away a little, looking down at her with his arms still on her shoulders. Something about the soft morning light makes him look especially good. Is that what he sees in her? Because despite his bedhead and the stains on his shirt from the wine they shared last night, he's perfect.
"We don't have time," she pleads.
"Alright," Hopper sighs. "What do we even have to do? Can't be that much."
"Well, we have to go to the store and tidy up the house. There's way too much of our stuff in the kids' rooms. Maybe we should clean, too."
He nods. "Seems doable. But first: breakfast. And then I gotta shave."
"Sounds like a plan." It's not that she hated the full beard he used to have, but the mustache does look a lot better. It reminds her of how he looked the summer she realized she was in love with him—the summer she almost lost him forever. "And I have to take a shower," she adds. "I feel gross."
"You kissed me after I hadn't showered for like eight months. Your three days are hardly anything on that."
Joyce tenses at the mention of those months, but she tries her best not to show it. He's gotten better at talking about it—and of course, she's glad he has—still, she can't help the shiver that runs down her spine every time she thinks about him in that prison. But she's not going to open that can of worms, not on a morning as good as this one. "The things I do for love," she teases instead, pulling the door open. "Now, let's get inside. I'm freezing."
***
Exhausted, Joyce falls back onto the couch. Cleaning up had taken longer than expected, and then the line at the store had been way too long. "We should've started earlier," Hopper grumbles, sitting down next to her.
"Yeah, I know." She smirks. "I told you so, but you just had to be all handsy this morning."
"Can't help myself when you're so damn beautiful."
Joyce can practically feel herself blush, and she quickly hides her face in her hands. She still isn't used to this kind of love. Even after all these years, after all the ways he has shown her how much he cares about her, after getting married, she's still convinced it's all going to come crashing down one day. Just like it did with Lonnie—and with Bob, too, in a way.
"What?" He chuckles. "Are you being all self-conscious again?"
Joyce shifts, leaning against his shoulder instead and glancing up at him. She takes his hand, their fingers intertwining. The metal of his wedding ring is cold to the touch. "Nah. I just like you."
Hopper raises an eyebrow. "Oh, you like me? What an honor."
She pulls away a little to look him in the eyes, still holding onto his hand. "Okay... I love you. Is that what you want to hear?"
A grin spreads over his face. He reaches for her cheek again, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I think that is what I wanted to hear." He places a soft kiss on her lips.
"What's going on with you today?" she asks, while he just looks at her with those lovestruck eyes. It's adorable, really. "You're being even more touchy than usual. Is something wrong?" What if something happened, if he's trying to ease her into delivering the bad news? Maybe he's sick, or...
"Don't worry. Nothin' is wrong. I just want to enjoy our alone time before the kids come. Don't think they'll want to see their parents making out on the couch."
Joyce snorts. "Okay, okay. You've got a point." She untangles their fingers, wrapping her arms around his back instead. His hands reach for her waist as she pulls him into another kiss. He tastes like coffee and that chapstick of hers he swears up and down he isn't using. "You know, we do have some time right now before the kids come..."
He laughs softly, leaning closer to kiss her neck. "I love you too," he whispers, his breath warm against her ear. Their lips are just about to meet again when the phone rings. Joyce jumps up, and Hopper groans. "Always those damn phones!"
She picks up, trying to calm her breathing. "Hello, you’ve reached the Hopper-Byers house. This is Joyce."
"Mom, hi!" Will's voice sounds from the other end of the line. "You said I should call once I know when we'll be there. So, Mike and I just landed in Indianapolis, and I think Nancy and Jonathan are here too already. Karen is gonna drop us off at home in like an hour and a half."
"Alright, honey." Joyce glances back at Hopper, who's looking at her from the couch.
"What about El? Do you know when her bus arrives?"
Her eyes dart over to the clock on the wall, and she draws in a sharp breath. "In... twenty minutes. We should probably get going to pick her up in a second. I'll see you later!"
"See you later!"
She hangs up, making her way back over to the living room. "That was Will," she explains. "Says they'll be here in an hour and a half. And, uh, El's bus should be there pretty soon, so we better get going."
Hopper gets up with a groan. "Yeah, you're right. Don't want her to wait in the rain."
"Imagine explaining that to her," Joyce jokes. "Sorry, we're late, honey. Your dad and I were busy kissing on the couch."
He bursts out laughing. "Oh god, that does sound pretty bad."
"See? So, let's go!"
Barely five minutes later, she sits in the passenger seat of their car. It's absolutely pouring, but Joyce finds herself quite enjoying it. As long as she doesn't have to go outside, she doesn't mind a bit of rain. She turns on the radio, humming along to the song playing. Hopper drums his fingers against the steering wheel.
"Can't believe we haven't seen her in two months," he mumbles. She knows exactly how he feels. When Jonathan first started attending NYU, she hadn't known what to do with herself. It just felt so strange that they weren't all together anymore. At least this way, she was a bit more prepared when first Will and then El moved out, too. Still, she isn't sure if she'll ever get used to the house being so much emptier without their kids.
"Yep." She sighs. "But she's an adult now. And she's busy. We can't really do anything about that."
"I think my old man was just glad when I was finally out of the house," Hopper remarks.
"Yeah, but your dad was an idiot."
"So was yours!"
Joyce shrugs. "Never said anything to the contrary."
Hopper is quiet for a few seconds, keeping his eyes fixed on the road. It's obvious he's pondering about something, but she can't quite read his expression. "Do you... Do you think I'm an idiot, too?"
She can't hold back the laugh that escapes her mouth. "What? I mean, yes, you're an idiot sometimes, but not like that. You're not like either of our fathers. Seriously, Jim. You're a good guy. I wouldn't have married you if you weren't."
"Okay... Even though I get mad and shout 'n stuff sometimes? You were married to Lonnie-"
"Don't," she cuts him off before he can finish his sentence. "Don't go there. Do you seriously think I would make the same mistake twice? After all the shit Lonnie put us through? I started dating him when I was seventeen. I didn't know what I was signing up for, and he was very much aware of it. You're different than that."
"Sorry." He still doesn't look at her.
"No, I'm not mad, Jim. I need you to understand that. You're nothing like them, I mean it. And now stop it with the self-deprecation! We've talked about this. You're a good person, and I love you. We all do." Joyce reaches over to squeeze his shoulder. She can feel his muscles relax under her touch.
"Alright. Thanks. I love you too."
***
That evening, all five of them are gathered around the dinner table for the first time since Christmas. She hadn't even known how much she missed this, but now Will is excitedly chatting about a new art project he started, El throws in stories of one of her new friends who studies art too, Jonathan loads another serving of potatoes onto his plate, he insists aren't too salty even though they all know that they are, and she feels truly happy.
"So," their oldest asks after Will has finished with his story. "what have you guys been up to?"
Joyce and Hopper exchange glances. He clears his throat. "Not much. Work, enjoying each other's company without you lot runnin' around."
"You miss us a lot," El teases. "Admit it!"
"Oh? Where'd you get that idea from?" He reaches over and ruffles through his daughter's curls. El cut her hair to about chin-length a little while ago. Joyce quite likes the new look. It suits her.
"Dad! My hair!" Gently, she pushes his arm away, laughing. "I know because you call every other day. It's very obvious."
"Okay, you got me! I do miss you."
Joyce laughs, too; it feels good. She reaches for Hopper's hand—it's much warmer than hers, just like always—running her thumb over his wrist, tracing one of his old scars. "Hey, how about we all watch a movie together?" she suggests. "Might be nice to do a little something as a family today. Because, well, we're having dinner at the Wheeler's tomorrow, and I'm sure you guys will want to spend some time with your friends."
Jonathan is the first one to nod. "That sounds good. Let's do it!"
They do the dishes quickly, and after a short discussion, the kids decide on a movie. Soon enough, Joyce sits on the couch, sandwiched between Jonathan and Hopper, El and Will on the floor in front of them. She leans her head against her husband's shoulder while his hand rests on her thigh, drawing circles with his index and middle finger.
"Do you understand anything?" she whispers into his ear.
He chuckles slightly. "Nope."
By the time they reach the halfway point of the movie, Joyce is fairly certain El has fallen asleep. She herself has long since given up on trying to get what's going on. The way Hopper is running his hand through her hair, his fingers twirling with the strands, is far more interesting anyway. At least Will and Jonathan seem invested, both giving comments from time to time.
She closes her eyes, and to her surprise, she actually doses off for a little, only waking back up from the sound of her name being called. "Joyce? Joy!" Hopper whispers.
Her eyes dart around the empty room as she sits up with a yawn. "What? Where are the kids? The- the movie?"
He smiles at her. "They're in bed. You looked so peaceful we didn't want to wake you. But, uh, I'm assuming you don't wanna spend the entire night on the couch."
Joyce nods slowly, blinking up at him. She doesn't feel like moving even one bit. "Yeah. Just... just give me a second. I'll be right there."
"I could carry you too. El didn't want to get up either, so..."
"What?" She stares at him, perplexed. Surely, she didn't hear him correctly. "No, I'm- Your back... I'm far too heavy."
"Nonsense!" Hopper scoops her up before she can protest any further. She wraps her arms around him, pressing her face against his chest. The way to their bedroom is only a few steps, yet she doesn't let go when he lays her down, pulling him onto the bed next to her. He laughs softly while she pulls herself closer to him.
"I haven't even brushed my teeth," he says, but he doesn't move either, his arms firmly wrapped around her once more.
"So what? I haven't, either. Just stay... okay?" Joyce's mind is still foggy from sleep, but lying in his arms like this feels like the most natural thing to do at that moment. She doesn't want this to change, ever. It feels too good, it feels like the genuine love she has missed out on for so much of her life.
"Okay," Hop whispers, placing a kiss on her forehead. "I'll stay."
"Night Jim." Her eyes have already fallen shut again. She yawns, shifting slightly so that her ear is pressed directly to his chest, the even sound of his heartbeat rocking her back to sleep.
"G'night Joyce."