Chapter Two:

He woke to the light of the television flickering in front of him, the volume muted. He felt a warm body against his and initially thought it was El, that he was back at the cabin with her. But the small body he discovered was Joyce, she had her arms wrapped around him as if she were trying to stop him escaping, but she was still fast asleep. He took a moment to look over her beautiful face, his eyes going down her slight body and down to her bare feet tucked behind her. He knew he would have to disentangle himself so that he could find El. It wasn't right for him to be here with Joyce like this, it was only one step away from something a lot more dangerous.

It wasn't as if he hadn't thought about it. Very far from it, he often found himself reliving his memories of Joyce from their childhood, from their teen years… he sometimes felt himself falling into such a dark mood when he remembered that he was the one who fucked that all up. It was Jim who left, not Joyce. He left, and Lonnie took his place at her side. That piece of shit.

He hadn't realised until far too late that Lonnie had been abusive to her. He had been dealing with the loss of Sara when a friend of his still in Hawkin's contacted him to let him know Joyce was regularly seen with bruises, black eyes, and even broken bones. They couldn't be sure, but they thought it was a drunken Lonnie causing the damage. He was in no place to save Joyce, his marriage had fallen apart and every day he fought to get through each minute, each hour without falling apart at the seams. He wanted his little girl back more than anything in his life. He had only hoped that Joyce would find the courage to stand up for herself, or that one of her friends would help her escape her horrid marriage.

Jim had also heard she had two children now, two boys. He had met Jonathan on a visit back to Hawkin's, a little boy so opposite to his mother in temperament. Jonathan was reserved and held himself away from the spotlight. No matter whether Joyce had wanted to or not, she had always been a head-turner. Not only was one of the most beautiful women in town, but she had that feistiness, that bearing that no-one could ignore. Crazy, a lot of people called her crazy. He didn't like that word, it didn't fit her. She was too kind, too caring, and too smart to be 'crazy'. He liked to think of her as different, a unique person – no matter how corny it sounded.

He gently removed Joyce's arms and laid her down on the couch, tucking a cushion beneath her head and tiptoed down the hallway to Will's room. He opened the door a crack and found Will had made a bed of pillows on the floor for himself and El was in his bed. Will was very like his mother and had become a chivalrous young man. He gently closed the door and decided to have a ciggy before rousing his daughter. He tried to slip back through the lounge unnoticed, but Joyce had woken from her slumber and was sitting up on the couch, staring wide-eyed at him.

"What…?" She looked around, her hair mussed up from sleep. He felt a jolt in his gut and tried to tamp down the feeling of arousal. He couldn't. Not Joyce. He had never, ever denied the attraction he felt for her, that would have been impossible. But he was a messed-up person with a fuck tonne of baggage. Joyce had her own problems, it had been why he tried to convince her to date Bob, he was too dangerous for her. Plus he was sure she wouldn't find him as attractive as she once had, he had left after all.

"I think we must have fallen asleep," he gestured to her and the couch. They had – had a fair bit to drink the night before, more than usual.

"Oh," she stood up, looking awkward.

"I'm going to have a ciggy on the step, come with?"

They didn't speak again for a while, but it was still chilly outside, and they had gone from sitting on the front doorstep as far apart as possible – to Joyce sitting with her hip against his. They shared the cigarette, just like old times. He could see her visibly shivering and trying to shake his earlier nefarious thoughts from his mind, he placed an arm around her and tried to share his body heat with hers.

"Hop," he looked down and found himself caught in her gaze. Something flickered there, and he realised that maybe he wasn't the only one becoming conflicted with the status of their friendship, relationship, or whatever the hell it was. "I think…" she sucked in her lower lip, and suddenly, he lost all self-control, surprising even himself.

He flicked the cigarette onto the damp grass, turned to her, grasped her face between his large hands and kissed her. He kissed her with all the pent up sexual tension, with the love he had always had for her, and she kissed him back with as much fervour. They eventually had to stop for lack of oxygen, and she tucked herself against him, much closer this time – allowing him the opportunity to drop a kiss, and then his chin onto the top of her head.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled.

"Sorry for what?" She shifted beneath him to look up at his face. "For kissing me?" She seemed surprised.

"Yeah… I know I'm… not Bob." She chuckled lightly and then stood up.

"It's fucking cold out here, let's go inside and finish this conversation." She held out her hand and he took it, though stood using his own weight as she was so tiny he was sure she wouldn't have the strength to pull him up.

..

Joyce snuggled up to him on the couch and tried to calm her nerves. She knew they had finally reached that moment. She had to be honest with him and throw caution into the wind. If she didn't tell him now, she never would.

"When you left," she started, watching him wince as if in pain. "I knew I would never stop loving you." She studied his face, watching his expression go to one of guilt, and then of pain.

"I thought I was doing the right thing, leaving you here in Hawkin's. You didn't want to come with me, I thought it meant you… didn't love me." He seemed to be uncomfortable saying the word love, and suddenly her heart felt full. Fuck, she loved him. She loved how uncomfortable he was discussing his feelings. That is one thing that had not changed from when they were young, and she had to bite down a chuckle so as not to make this any harder on him. "I always loved you Joyce." He sighed and leaned back into the couch, eyes roving up to the ceiling. "I lost my little girl and though Diane was her mother, it was you I wished were there to comfort me. I thought at first it was our shared history – you knew me from childhood to becoming a young adult." He sighed again. "But when I came back to Hawkin's… I realised that I had never once stopped loving you. I also knew it was too late."

"Too late?" She stiffened. "What do you mean?"

"I didn't come back, even though I knew what Lonnie was doing to you." She saw the anger in his face, and felt a shiver run through her body. She saw him fight his rising temper, and knew it was for her sake. He took a few breaths before continuing. "I had just lost Sara, lost Diane, and I actually thought if I came back and Lonnie was abusing you, that I might kill him. I hoped like shit that your friends would help you escape, but I hear you did that all on your own." She felt her eyes fill with tears and she tried to hide them by tucking her face further into his chest.

"Eventually," she mumbled. "It took me far too long, I didn't think I could raise the boys alone. The realisation that I was already doing it alone, that Lonnie was a drunken fool who gambled all his money away… well I should have realised sooner."

"You shouldn't have had to do that alone, I should have been here."

"I should have visited when I heard about Sara," she sighed. "We both fucked up, Hop,"

"Yeah we did huh?"

"Is it still too late for us?" She felt her voice shake, and realised she was still crying.

"Joyce…" he gave her a squeeze and kissed the top of her head. "I'm not going anywhere, ever again. I'll always be here for you."

"But…" she prompted.

"But, I don't think I'm good for you." He tried to say something else but sudden anger flared within her.

"Don't you think I know what is good for me? Is it because I made a mistake with Lonnie, you think I'm stupid?" She tried to escape his arms, but he tightened them around her and she tried to shove him away.

"Stop," he said calmly, but his forehead crinkling in concern. "Stop it," he said again holding her against him. "I never said that." She stopped fighting and gave in, and he loosened his grip on her.

"I know we both have baggage," she said quietly, all the fight suddenly gone from her. It seemed it was then that he noticed her tears.

"Oh, honey…" he released her and gently thumbed away a few tears, but it was pointless as by now they were streaming down her face. He pulled her back to him and rocked her as she sobbed, she felt all her confusion over Jim and her pain over losing Bob escape her then. She let him rock her until finally she managed to stop.

"Please, Hop. I never thought you would even think of being in a relationship with crazy Joyce. But now that we have reached this point…" she trailed off.

"I don't think you are crazy, not really." He shrugged.

"I didn't want you to be talk of the town, for your reputation to be ruined. I thought you felt the same, that dating me would be embarrassing."

"Joyce, no matter where you go – you turn heads. You are stunning you are Joyce fucking Horowitz, every guy wants you." She looked up at him in surprise.

"We aren't teenagers anymore," she laughed.

"I think that you have only become more beautiful as you have aged." He placed his hands on either side of her face and bent to give her a gentle kiss on the lips. "I would feel lucky if you gave me a chance."

"So, you will try? We can try?" She asked, hope bubbling up, her doubts flying away. He gently tilted her face so that she could look into his eyes, and she saw her answer there.

..

If someone had told him two years ago – that he would have two teenage children, and one about to head off to college… and that he would be living with Joyce… he would have told them they were batshit crazy.

Maybe he was crazy, maybe he was just dreaming… but considering Joyce had just agreed to marry him – well it was the best dream he had ever had.

- End.

Reviews appreciated. Also any story ideas. I think we need to fill with Jopper stories, cos... urgh... they are AMAZING.