Hi there! Here is a new chapter for all of you. I hope you like it :)
Theindividualist: Hi! Yeah, I love cliffhangers, but this story doesn't have much of them, does it? ;)
afanofstrangerthingsandstuff: Thank you for your review. Well, yeah, English is not my first language (Spanish is) that's why I ask you not to be too hard on me if you see any grammatical error or lack of vocabulary. :)
And of course, thanks AnnieRavenclaw707 for her work beta reading this. Thank you very much! :)
Chapter 20: Stay with me.
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The roar of the shot had been tremendous. Joyce would have sworn that it was even louder than the normal sound if she had known what could be considered normal. The woman froze, her chest tightening. For a moment, the air in her lungs seemed to burn inside her. It was too much pressure, nerves, and anguish, all at the same time.
For a brief moment, everything froze around her. The thunder of the shot still echoed in her eardrums. She supposed it was all over, and that was right.
Jones collapsed hard on the ground, and Joyce cried. Too many emotions together. Behind her, she could see Hopper, still lying on the ground, but with a smoking gun in his hands.
Their gazes met for a few endless seconds. Joyce still trying to understand what had just happened, and Hopper relieved to see her standing, safe.
The moment of adrenaline passed, and the gun slipped from his fingers, falling hard to the floor. Overexertion was beginning to take its toll. He exhaled hard, as he reached to caress his battered wound. It seemed destined to never close.
"Oh, my God. Hopper!" Joyce almost screamed those words as she ran towards him. The woman knelt beside him, not quite knowing what to do. "You're hurt," She stated nervously, noticing a small red ring in the area of his wound, his blood.
"You're hurt!" She reiterated hysterically.
"Joyce," Hopper started to say in a quiet voice. He didn't want to alarm her even more, nor bother his head, which felt as if it could explode, for his own sanity.
"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my GOD! What should I do ?!" She screamed, absolutely mad. "I'm going for what... I don't know!"
"Joyce! Shut up!" Hopper grunted. He didn't know what hurt more, the wound or his ears. "I'm fine."
"Stop saying that! You're not!" She replied in disbelief. "I'm going for the medical kit."
"No. Wait!" Hopper grabbed her arm, and she stopped in fear. It wasn't because of the gesture but Hopper's lack of strength. "Joyce, please," He pleaded, tired. "Go to the phone. Call Owens. Now."
She put her hand over his, knowing that she had to. But leaving him alone, even though the phone was only a room away, made her uneasy. "Hop, are you going to be ok?" The concern was sincere, and her voice could barely contain the emotion, it broke at the end as her eyes welled.
"Yeah, go." Hopper urged her. He needed this to end soon, and for this, the cavalry had to take care of the rest. She did not move an inch. "Joyce, I think I'm going to survive if you go two meters away." He said sarcastically, "For heaven's sake. I'm fine. It's nothing." His mouth forced a smile.
Finally, Joyce nodded and ran away. It was then that he could allow himself to relax his body against the floor. It was not as well as he thought. Also, his gaze couldn't stop looking at a specific point in the room. A bullet hole in a kitchen cabinet.
Jones and Hopper had fired almost at the same time. Maybe just a hundredth of a second apart. Enough so that the federal's shot was deflected just barely to miss. If it had taken only a hundredth of a second more, that bullet would be in Joyce.
The woman hadn't realized it. She was too upset to understand how close she had been. Of course, he couldn't blame her for it, but the bullet hole was there. Perhaps as a reminder to him.
Hopper seemed to be living a nightmare. The house was full of agents taking notes and photos. He understood those people were doing their job, of course, even he had had to break into the home of others, looking for evidence.
But the fact that they were doing it at Joyce's house, it made him sick. It was as if they were profaning a sacred temple. An unfortunate metaphor, he was not a believer after all. And then, there were the others, the paramedics.
"I had no choice." He said at last, as they raised Jones's corpse in the distance.
Owens sighed without looking at him, "I know, chief. I know." The doctor was very busy finishing re-stitching the wound. "There will be no report on this," He continued, as Hopper raised an eyebrow. "Your names won't come out, at least." He clarified, earning a look of gratitude from the police. The last thing Joyce needed right now was to fill out paperwork or make statements.
Hopper looked at the wound impatiently. Owens was too conscientious, and it just needed a patch.
"Don't be in such a hurry, cowboy. They have given you a good beating, and I have to secure all the tissue. Otherwise, it will take longer to heal." He said as if he could read his mind.
"You say they've given me a good beat? You should've seen how the other Soviet guy turned out." He answered, feigning mockery.
Owens chuckled at that. "I saw him when they took him away in handcuffs. But it turns out that the Soviet doesn't come from a damn prison after going through fucking hell. So yeah, you're screwed."
Hopper exhaled wearily. "Hey Doc, I have things to do and also a couple of calls to make. That's it."
"You have nothing to do. We have already checked the kids, they are fine. Joyce told me not to tell them. She wants them to enjoy this night without worrying until tomorrow while we take care of cleaning up this mess."
Hopper began to think that Owens had mind-reading powers, but he was still stubborn. "I have to..."
"What," The doctor purposely tugged more on the bead on the last remaining stitch. Hopper clenched his teeth. "Fuck…" He murmured without being able to finish the sentence.
Owens finished securing the stitches and then covered them with a bandage. "You need to rest, sleep. Don't worry about anything else. We will watch over the house and the children too."
Hopper was going to protest when the doctor showed him a bottle.
"And now, you're going to take this. It'll help you with the pain."
The doctor was right, the wound was pulling him, and he needed to rest. He took one last look around the room, as Owens gathered up his medical supplies, and the agents finished cleaning up the mess. Hopper sighed. He had no choice but to trust that they would take care of everything.
With difficulty, he entered the hall towards his room, but on his way, he saw the lights on in Joyce's room.
He was exhausted, but he didn't dare to go to sleep without checking that she was okay. The door was ajar, and he tapped lightly on it. No one answered. For a few moments, he hesitated about whether or not he should bother her until his own body forced him to hurry. Standing was a luxury, too expensive.
"Joyce?" He asked softly. The sound of a silent sob answered. He sighed as he dared to break her privacy and entered the room. The woman was lying on the bed with her back to him.
"Hey," He called her, sitting on the edge of the bed. He couldn't see her face but could observe how she tried to clean her nose, keeping some decorum.
"I know that it was a hell of a night but, it's all over, okay? Owens' men will be on duty all night, so you can… you can be calm, Joyce." He didn't know if he was saying those words to her or him.
The woman did not answer. He knew she was still crying silently from the sporadic spasms that her back did, and he did not know very well what to do or say, so he just stood there in silence for a while. But as the minutes passed, Hopper began to think that he was not going to last much longer, it became increasingly clear that the pills that the doctor had given him were not only for the pain.
"Joyce," He spoke when he saw that the spasms were less frequent. "I'll be in the next room if you need something you just have to call me."
"No." She said suddenly, turning in a bolt. Hopper was surprised by that sudden movement. He looked at his wrist, as Joyce held it tight as if it was a lifeboat on a shipwreck.
"Please don't go." The woman said in a thin voice. She was scared, no, rather terrified. No, neither that. It was odd, but sometimes it was hard to decipher Joyce Byers. What was true is that there was something at that moment that broke his heart, and that was seeing her like that. He was willing to do anything for her. Anything, at any time.
"Is there anything I can do?" He found himself asking.
Joyce looked at him. Those brown eyes pierced him completely. It was as if they could speak without words. And what they were saying was that she was desperate.
"Stay with me." She answered without further ado.
He shouldn't. No. Of course not! Under no circumstances. But he couldn't leave her like that, right? No, no, no. Do not even think about it! You can't stay! Don't make this harder than it is. Go away! NOW!
Joyce watched the man's hesitant gesture. "I don't want to be alone after what has happened. I'm going to go crazy Hopper." Tears reappeared in her eyes. "Please stay with me tonight. I'm just asking you that."
Hopper couldn't help but feel compassion. He regretted that she had to live something as horrible as that of that night, she did not deserve that.
He had no heart to leave her like this, and judging by his battered body, he didn't think he could stand up again either, so without a word he slowly lay down beside her.
It was a mistake, a tremendous mistake.
To be continued.
Reviews are always welcome. :) Thank you for reading.
