I'm sorry for the delay in updating this, but life is crazy nowadays... Btw thank the new followers. I hope you enjoy this one too. :)


Chapter 18: Vietnam (Part II)

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When she came back into the house, the first thing she realized was that Hopper had disappeared from the living room. The light of what had been his room so far was on. So it was clear that he was closing that discussion, and had retired to his particular cave.

Joyce pursed her lips. That was far from over, although maybe she was going to need some fuel. The woman took the bottle of wine from the dinner, regretting that it wasn't Murray's vodka, and drank a glass. Maybe two.

When she gathered enough courage, her feet headed for the room, finding Hopper sitting on the edge of the bed, his head resting on his hands. He seemed as devastated as she was, and yet, she knew it would not be easy to change his mind. We are talking about Jim stubborn Hopper after all.

"You were right about one thing," She started, leaning on the door frame. "We need to talk."

Eternal seconds passed before he decided to answer. Hopper groaned, outrunning his hand through his face. He couldn't believe he was having this conversation with her. "Joyce, this argument is over. This is my decision, and it's already taken."

Oh, really?! She thought. You're not the only person in this world, Hop! Your actions not only affect you, and only you! Yes, she wanted to scream that at him, that and more. But if she had, the same thing would have happened again that night. Vietnam's second part. Instead, Joyce entered the room and stood in front of him, calmy.

He wanted her to scream, to be mad at him. That would be more indulgent. But no. And what was worse, Joyce was giving him a look of understanding that was totally new to him. All those years and Joyce Byers was still a mystery.

But he had told the truth. The decision was already made. "Joyce. Just let me go."

Her stomach turned. Obviously, Hopper wasn't talking about that room. But of her life. Again, and for good.

"I will, but with one condition," She said, to surprise for both of them. "Look at me, Hop. Right in the eye. Look at me, and tell me you don't give a damn about me. Tell me that you don't like me. Tell me that, and I won't insist," She took a step forward. "I will only let you go if I hear it from you. I need to hear it while you look at me."

Hopper took a deep breath. The request was simple. He just had to say the damn words, and it would all end. He had been lying for many years to many people, including her. Damn it. He spent a whole year hiding El, inventing cheap excuses to get out of the way. It was not difficult. He just had to do it one more time. To get over the sadness of not having a simple life.

"Joyce," He replied, gathering enough courage to look at her. "I ..." Then he realized that his plan had an unexpected problem. Those brown eyes were scared, like a wounded animal, desperate and helpless. It was the same look as El the night he picked her up in the forest. The situation was completely different, of course, but there was a common factor. They were two people, lost, asking for help, and he had the duty to serve and protect.

"I do not..." Came on Hopper, just two more words! Why was it so arduous to say? Hopper's heart ached at the thought of never seeing Joyce again. No more night conversations. No more coffees while arguing about what a teenager was most repellent. No more seeing those beautiful brown eyes. Was he willing to throw everything away just because he was too scared to be hurt again?

She slowly walked towards him and put herself to his eye level. That was the last straw that disarmed him completely. He could not stand Joyce looking at him with tenderness mixed with unbearable pain in her eyes, because he knew that, in one way or another, she was suffering because of him. Those pleading eyes broke his already wounded heart even further.

"I can't." He confessed, looking away.

Just by looking at him, Joyce could tell what he was thinking. After all that time that they had spent together, he was like an open book to her.

'You can do this, Joyce. Hop would never hurt you, and you know you love him.' Joyce's eyes widened in surprise, and she gasped. 'She loved Jim Hopper.'

Somehow, without her being aware of it, he had managed to squeeze himself into her heart, to a place that no one had ever found before. Tears filled her eyes, and a weight lifted away from her. There was no way she was letting him go, not now.

Joyce wasn't thinking straight, but the anguish could be more than her reason. She just wanted to reimagine what she should have done a long time ago, and there was only a proper way to do it. Crossing the point of no return, and the only way to do that was to pierce the battered armor of Hopper, shooting it at close range. And she did.

Suddenly he felt her lips into his. She was kissing him, hard and desperately, as if she could steal twenty years worth of missing kisses from his lips. Her tongue tried to parting his lips, almost forcefully, but it crashed mercilessly against an impenetrable fortress. Shocked, his hands took her by her shoulders, trying to pull her away.

"Joyce," He muttered, committing the big mistake of opening the fortress gate. Her tongue entered, claiming the place, clouding his mind.

That kiss turned into a pitched battle, so desperate that she pushed him further, both falling on the bed. She kissed him until any resistance from him melted. Unable to resist her anymore, he kissed her back, surrendering into her spell, with his own lips glazed with desire, slowly tangling his fingers in her hair.

Too much time watching her from a distance, as someone forbidden, always reserved for others who were not him. Never him, and that drove him mad. It was easy to lose the little control he had left. His free hand ran it up her side and to her neck, stopping on her cheek. He wanted her more than anything. This kiss was not like any other kiss. This one was a cry of desperation, an opportunity to amend mistakes, a hope of, perhaps, a new life, a second chance. No. The two cursed words. Second chance.

His lips loosened hers, in need of air. "Joyce," He murmured, his voice husky.

"Shut up, Hop." She replied. They looked at each other, panting lightly. Her lips were swollen and pink, her face flushed a delicate pink, and her eyes were bright with newfound knowledge.

Her hands slid over him, caressing his neck before entwining them within the silky strands of his hair. She felt him shudder under her touch as he quickly released her. Abruptly, he backed away and ran a hand through his hair.

Joyce watched his retreat and felt a pang of regret. Things could never be the same between them. This had changed everything. Probably forever. This wasn't what she had in mind. How did things get out of control?

Hopper's eyebrows furrowed. "What is that noise?"

My heart broking into pieces? She thought. "I think the boys have forgotten their keys, again. I'll go."

"I thought they weren't coming back until tomorrow."

"Teenagers. You know. They change their mind in a blink." She replied tensely, getting out of bed.

Hopper watched as the woman left the room. It was clear that any excuse was good to run away from him in despair. Angry, he threw the pillow over his face with a horrible desire to scream, hatting himself. Great, Hopper, fantastic. You just had to hold back and hold on a little longer. And now what? You just screwed the only friend you had. Probably, the only person you had to be able to vent and speak openly. Congratulations. Now you are completely alone.

He threw the pillow furiously and rolled on his side closing his eyes angrily, almost like a little boy who wanted to disappear and didn't want to face the real world. At least he was comforted to know that the boys were back. Probably their crazy screams, spoiling the movie would cheer him up. It was weird that he didn't hear them chattering already. They were loud, and El was pretty good at opening doors.

His eyes opened wide. "Idiot." He told himself.


Joyce headed for the entrance door. The feeling of guilt and anger didn't let her think of anything else. She knew she could never look Hopper in the face again, not after that.

Before she could continue to mentally insult herself, the door slammed open. She froze on the site, without knowing how to react.

"Wow, wow... it seems we have succeeded." Joyce found herself looking at the barrel of a gun, pointed at her. Holding it to the other end was the FBI agent, or rather, the Russian spy, Eric Jones.

To be continued.

Seriously, you forget about the agent Jones? Well, he hasn't forgotten our beloved protagonists. (Evil face...)