Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Everyone in Hawkins knows that the chief of police is more likely to be found in the general store by the town square than actually at the station. There are no eyebrow raises or hushed whispers anymore when the beige blazer is parked outside of Melvald's during lunch, or really any time of the day. The earlier rumors of something illegal going on—something that would warrant this much attention from the cops—have died down because, to most, it's become quite apparent that Jim Hopper is just very fucking in love with his wife.

Joyce used to hate Hawkins' rumor mill, the way people just couldn't stop talking about every little bit of gossip they stumbled upon. She hated it when they would run their mouths about her, about the divorce, about her sons. But now she finds she couldn't care less what anyone says. Because she's happy and that's all that really matters.

She's stocking some shelves, humming along to the song playing over the speakers, when someone taps her on the shoulder from behind. "'Scuse me, where do you keep the cigarettes here?"

Her head whips around. "Jeez, Hop! I told you not to sneak up on me like that."

Hopper's grin spreads from one ear to the other. He doesn't say anything, just cups her cheek and pulls her into a small kiss. His mustache brushes against her lip, tickling in that same familiar way, his wedding band is cold against her skin. "Hi," he breathes when he pulls away.

"Hey," she mumbles, biting her lip and turning away to hide the color that has rushed to her cheeks. "Aren't you supposed to be working?"

"I am. Just wanted to... stop by real quick. Buy new cigarettes."

She has heard his coworkers' jokes ("Hey, well if the chief's not at the station, just swing by Melvald's. He's probably visiting his wife again.") and honestly, she can't say they're wrong. He's there on more days than he isn't, always with some excuse ready to go. Not that she believes those. She can see right through his lies. But if the truth is that he loves her so much he can't stay away from her, well, she'll gladly take that.

Joyce raises her eyebrows. "That so?" She smoothes over his uniform, slipping her hand into his front pocket and pulling out a pack of Camels. Half full. "Thought you needed new cigarettes?"

He puts on his best surprised face. It's not convincing in the slightest. "How'd these get in there? I could've sworn I left them at home."

"Oh, did you?"

"I might've. You don't know that. But now where I'm here already..."

He pulls her in again, kissing her in the rows between the same shelves she used to curse during so many long shifts when her salary was the only thing putting food on the table for her and the boys. How very differently life looks like now. So much brighter, so much more love than she ever imagined she deserves. She thinks about pulling him back to the storage closet right there and then, to forget all about work for just a few minutes. It sure as hell wouldn't be the first time either.

The bell at the entrance chimes, a strange sense of deja vu washing over her when she sees the older woman enter. "Stay there," she whispers to her husband, leaving him standing there to attend to the customer. "Carol, hi. So nice to see you."

"Joyce! How are you? How's the family?"

"Oh, great. Jonathan just sent some pictures from New York the other day. He and some of his friends did this amazing photography project for one of their classes."

The older woman smiles. "I love to hear that. Seems like New York is treating him right."

"Absolutely!" It still feels a little weird sometimes, not to have him in the house anymore. And now Will and El are so close to moving out too... But that's just a part of growing up, isn't it? More than anything, she's glad that her boy is able to follow his dreams in a way she wasn't. "Enough about me, what can I help you with?"

"Okay, see, I was looking for some watermelons. You have those, right?"

But before Joyce can respond, a gruff voice sounds from behind her, his arms coming down to rest on her shoulders. "Hey there, Carol. How are ya?" So much about stay there.

"Chief!" Carol nods at him. She doesn't even bat an eye, doesn't seem surprised in the slightest. And of course she isn't. Being a regular at Melvald's, she has witnessed this exact same thing on more than one occasion. "I'm good, how about you?"

"I'm doin' great, thank you very much."

"Sorry." Joyce chuckles. "This one," She leans her head back, shooting him a look, "has decided to come by unannounced again instead of rescuing cats from trees and investigating missing garden gnomes like the good chief he is."

"Can't do anything against love, honey," the older woman remarks.

Hopper presses a kiss to the top of her head before finally stepping back. "See, she gets me!"

Joyce claps her hands. "Okay, before you two start conspiring against me here, I'm gonna go get you those watermelons, Carol. And you," She spins around, tapping against Hopper's chest. "better be careful or else I'm gonna make you stock shelves the next time you show up just to keep me from working."

"Hey, that's not fair!" He throws up his arms in complaint. But he won't be able to defend himself much more, because in that moment, his radio crackles to life, demanding his attention.

"Chief, do you copy?"

He groans. "Yeah, I copy. What's goin' on?"

"We need you at the movie theatre, some idiot's causing chaos." As much as she makes fun of him for coming here so often, Joyce can't deny that she's a little disappointed every time he's whisked away from her this way.

"Alright, alright. I'll be right there. I'm close anyway."

There's soft laughter sounding from the radio. "What? You at Melvald's again?"

Hopper rolls his eyes, doesn't answer. He turns back to her, placing a small kiss on the top of her head. "I'll see you in two hours for lunch, okay?"

"Okay." A smile spreads over her lips as she watches her husband leave the store. A promise of coming back, after all the times she has nearly lost him, nothing has ever sounded sweeter to her.

"He really loves you," Carol remarks from her side.

 For so long, she would've hated people commenting on her love life. But now... "Yeah. He does."

Chapter Text

It's yet another sleepless night. One like so many in the past two months. The temperatures are colder now than the day she lost him, summer slowly turning into fall, life going on as normal, even though he's not there anymore. He will never get to see the leaves turn red again, will never get to see another snowfall, or the first flowers in spring. Years will pass, and he won't be there for any of it.

Joyce's hands tremble as she lifts the cigarette to her lips, staring into the darkness. The porch swing quietly creaks at a small gust of wind, the stars shine. It's peaceful. Too peaceful. She has learned not to trust it anymore, that every calm is just the one before the storm. And oh, how much this storm has taken from her already. Her boyfriend, who she dragged into this whole mess, who could've lived a long, happy life if she had never asked for his help to figure out Will's drawings. She killed him, in a way.

And now she killed Hopper, too. More literally. Because she turned those keys. She was the one who ultimately condemned him to his fate. It should've been her. She deserves that. If she could, she would change their places at an instant. She would've gladly died for him. But dying now, joining him in whatever afterlife she doesn't believe in anyway, would mean leaving their kids behind. And she can't do that.

So, she has to live. For them. Get through each day, one after the other. Wake up exhausted from nightmares, haunted by the last look in his eyes, make sure the boys go to school and drive El to her tutor, go to work, smile, have stupid, unnecessary conversations with customers, go back home, make dinner, try to sleep even though the thoughts that run through her head are too much to bear most of the time.

That's how she ends up on the porch, alone at night, smoking. Maybe that makes her a coward, but she just can't face him, not even in her dreams. She can't look at the man she loves—at the man she has loved for so much longer than she has ever admitted to herself—and watch him die all over again. The dreams where he's alive are almost worse. Waking up from a world where everything is fine and having to go back to a reality in which Hopper is dead is going to drive her insane one day.

Joyce takes another drag, her grip on the cigarette tightening because there's no one there to pass it to. She can almost still see him standing next to her sometimes, that stupid grin on his face. He would know exactly what to say to comfort her now; he always did. How is she ever supposed to talk about Hopper's death if he's the only person she would trust with the mess it has made her? He was her best friend. No one ever understood her the way he did; no one ever will. And she never told him how much he means to her. The last days of his life, she spent fighting with him, bickering over the most unnecessary shit. She should've gone out with him while she still had the chance. But she was too afraid—like she always is—and look where it got them! One dead, the other miserable.

Her fingers curl into the fabric of her shirt, right where her heart used to be before it burst into a thousand pieces. It used to be his—the shirt and her heart—she just couldn't get herself to throw most of his stuff away. As if that would somehow get rid of all he was, too. And whatever El wanted to keep, they did. She already took the girl's father from her. What is Joyce's grief compared to hers?

It's suffocating. This town, the memories, all of it. They found a buyer for the house, and Owens a new place for them. Far away. California. A fresh start, somewhere not as haunted as Hawkins. It won't be long now until she can leave all this behind—try to, at least. As if moving on could ever work.

The door behind her creaks open. El steps outside. Joyce puts out the cigarette, wiping away the tears that burn in her eyes, and turns to face her. "Hey, sweetie. Nightmare?" At least if she takes care of his daughter, a girl she has already come to see as her own, she still has a purpose. Maybe this way she can give back a little of how much he has done for her and her kids. She's not going to let his death be for nothing.