Joyce felt her father's hand leave her neck as he opened the door to his truck and not so easily shoved her into the passenger seat, almost closing her hand in the door. Joyce had given up, knowing she was about to get the beating of her life. She flinched when her father climbed up into the driver's side.

"Well well, it looks like you've gotten yourself into a shit situation here princess. Didn't I tell you not to leave the house for any reason?" Travis sneered, putting his truck into reverse and pulling out into the road. Joyce is silent, just wanting to spend her last moments of clarity thinking about Hopper. She's lost in thought, thinking of Halloween night when a hand smacks her face.

"I'm talking to you, young lady!" Travis yells, swerving slightly into the next lane. Joyce remains silent, praying that everything will be over soon and hopefully she'll be able to make a run for it once he's done.

"So you want to play hard to get, is that it?" Travis questions as he reaches out, placing his hand on her upper thigh. What might look like a gentle father's touch at a stoplight was actually killing her. Travis was gripping her thigh so tightly his knuckles were white.

"If you wanted to play, you just had to say the word." He whispers, moving his hand up to Joyce's waist, his finger dipping down underneath the denim at her hip. The feeling of him on her made Joyce's blood run cold. She tried to ignore her racing heart, just wanting to get this done and over with. She was tired of fighting him.

Travis pulls off onto the dirt road that Joyce knows so well. It's the one she's ran down countless times to get away from the man who she calls her father. When the trailer comes into view, she starts to panic. He's out of the truck in seconds, reaching across the cab and grabbing her hair, jerking her out, not caring he's pulling her hair out by the roots. She barely catches her footing before he hauls her up, pressing her against the truck. His hand is around her throat, cutting off her air supply.

"You've had it easy compared to what's to come little one. By the time I'm through with you, that Hopper boy won't be able to recognize who the fuck you are." He slowly reaches down Joyce's right arm, toying with her like a cat does a mouse. He grabs for her small hand, looking over the cuts that were left by Chrissy's teeth.

"So you get into a fight with a girl and end up locked in the bathroom with a guy hanging all over you? What was up with that?" He asks, taking Joyce's pinky between both of his hands. She kept her mouth shut. Knowing if she didn't survive, whatever information she gave would lead him to the Hoppers.

Travis sighed, looking down into his daughter's face. "Looks like we're going to have to do this the hard way." Without hesitation, he bends her pinky sharply back and to the side, causing the bones within to break instantly. Joyce cant help the scream that rips from her lungs.

"Why do you make me hurt you Joyce? You know I do what I do because I love you!" He yells over her screams.

"Now, why don't you be a good girl and do what daddy says. Go inside." He murmurs into her hair. Joyce cradles her pinky to her chest. If this is what he was starting out with, she'd be dead within two hours. Quickly inhaling the last bit of fresh air she probably ever would, Joyce walks up the rickety steps of the porch and into the trailer.

A stench she hasn't smelled in that metal prison smacks her in the face as she opens the door. There's no telling what he has done inside since the last time she was here. Standing in the living room, she tried to breathe through her mouth instead of her nose. She jumps when the front door closes shut, sealing her inside where she knows she's about to be tortured. Travis's hand is on the back of her neck again, forcing her to turn around. She sees his fist before it connects with her left eye. Seeing stars, she drops to her knees. His hand is pulling her hair again, punching her repeatedly on the left side of her face. After three hits, he pushes her away, her face landing on the stained carpet on the floor.

Travis stands straight, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

"Now that I've got your attention, tell me, what's been going on with you and the Chief's kid?" He questions, looking down at his hand, inspecting for blood on the back of it.

"Nothing is going on, he just broke up the fight." She breathes, keeping her head on the floor. Travis reaches out, placing her broken pinky under his boot. Stepping down on the bone, willing it to pierce through her skin. She's screaming into the carpet, trying her best not to give him the satisfaction of hearing her.

"I know your lying Joyce, I'm the one who taught you how to do that remember?" He sneers, taking his weight slightly off of her hand.

"You going to tell me the truth now?" He growls, spitting onto the floor near Joyce's head. She doesn't say a word. Travis takes a breath, grabbing her hand and hauls her up, making her stand on her feet. She has a split second to close her eyes before her face is being smacked into the doorframe of the kitchen. A loud crunch radiates through her head, and the sudden feeling of drowning floods her. Warm blood trickles down her nose, coating her lips with the taste of copper. Her head is pounding unbearably as she feels the coldness of his hands around the back of her neck once more. He pulls her head back, causing the flowing blood to drain down into her throat, choking her.

"Ready to talk yet, or do I have to keep pursuing you?'' He asks as if this was a normal conversation to be having while beating the shit out of your kid. Joyce stands fast, trying to keep what little dignity she feels she has left.

"Have it your way then." He laughs. "You know I like a challenge, Joyce. You will break, and when you do, I'm going to make you beg me to kill you." He throws her into the corner of the living room, cutting off any escape attempt she may try to make. She hears the sound of his knife, and keys hitting the floor as he unhooks his belt. Giving the worn leather a test crack, he grins, enjoying the way it makes her jump at the noise.

"You're just like one of Pavlov's dogs Princess, you hear the sound of my belt and it instantly makes you shiver." Joyce can't see out of her left eye, whether it's because of it swelling shut, or the constant flow of blood pouring into it she doesn't know. She feels the agonizing snap of his belt against her shoulders, causing her to fall to her knees. He strikes her, five times in quick succession, all his hits landing on the back of her ribs. Her skin is stinging more than it has since the first time he hit her. He hasn't done this in weeks, giving her skin time to heal before being brought back into the hell she was accustomed to. He deals four more lashes, the buckle of his belt scratching into her skin. That's when she hears it. Hoppers' voice, only its in her head. "Joyce, do you have any idea how hard it is to pretend that you don't exist? I love you, more than anything, I'm not going to let anyone hurt you anymore. Come on Joyce, fight, Fight for, me, for us!

Travis grabs her by her ankles, pulling her into the center of the room. He climbs on top of her, his hands lifting her shirt up to her navel. He grabs for the button of her jeans.

Pulling strength from Hopper's voice in her head, Joyce quickly sits up, connecting her forehead with his. Travis sits back on his heels immediately, allowing Joyce to bring up her legs and kick him as hard as she can in the face. She hears the most satisfying sound in the world, bones breaking. She quickly scrambles for traction and stumbles toward her bedroom. Slamming and locking the door she makes her way to her window, thankful he hadn't had a chance to board it up yet. She cried out in agony as she raises the window, the pressure on what is left of her pinky unbearable. Going head first she tumbles out the window, landing on her shoulder. The muffled sound that fills her ear is quickly noted and she climbs to her feet, her right arm now useless, she can feel the disconnection between her shoulder and its intended socket.

"Get back here you fucking bitch!" She hears Travis scream as the faint sounds of sirens swell in the distance. She's not taking a chance on him catching her. Running as fast as she can, she tears through the woods, branches slashing her in the face as she runs. Joyce's foot connects with an upended root and causes her to fall. She's cradling her right arm to her chest with what fingers she still has function over on her left.

She's late. Joyce should be here by now. Hopper is pacing inside the treehouse, not able to stand still to save his life. He repeatedly pops his knuckles, a habit he's picked up for when he becomes nervous. He doesn't even have the concentration to light a cigarette as he paces.

"Fuck this." He says, swinging open the hatch on the treehouse and quickly climbing down the ladder. The moment his boots hit the ground, he's running for the treeline. Not giving a damn that his shirt is getting ripped to shreds on random low hanging branches. Crossing the fields and woods between the treehouse and the Horowitz trailer in record time, he dips down the small trail that Joyce uses when she comes to the treehouse. He doesn't realize just how far he's run until the old tree that covers the trail comes into view. Quickly hurtling himself over it, Hopper is airborne for two seconds before he's on the ground on the other side. Something moves ahead on the trail and he stops breathing. She's battered, bloody, and currently trying to pick herself up off the trail.

"Joyce!" He screams, sliding suddenly to a stop in front of her. He's on his knees, pulling her to him. Her nose is crooked, and he can't pinpoint where the blood is still flowing from on her face.

"Hop...following...he's…" The words are barely pushed passed Joyce's bleeding lips before his instincts kick in.

Reaching down, he pulls her into his arms and his heart breaks when she lets out a painful cry at his slight touch.

"I know it hurts honey I'm sorry. You just gotta hold on okay? Just hold onto me." His voice cracks as he adjusts his hold on her and begins to sprint toward the one place Travis can't touch them. His home.

Hopper is dodging limbs and stumps all the way back to the farm and Joyce has become less responsive to his attempts at conversation. She hadn't said a word in three minutes. He nearly weeps when the horse barn comes into view.

"We're almost there Joy." He calls looking down into his arms. The sight of her makes his knees grow weak. The blood on her face has dried, and the swelling has increased. Her left eye is barely open as she glances up at him unable to focus on his face.

Making it past his dad's Blazer, Hopper is screaming at the top of his lungs.

"Mom, Dad, I need help! Help her please!" His anguished scream fills the yard as he steps onto the porch, his knees buckling from exhaustion. His parents run onto the front porch and Hopper doesn't miss his mother bringing her hand to cover her mouth in shock.

"Jesus Jim." His father cries, as he rushes to his son's side. The fear that is in his father's eyes is enough to make the tears Hopper has been trying to hold back since finding her fall onto his cheeks.

"I'll call an ambulance." His mother voices, turning to run into the house.

"Did Travis do this Jim?" Greg asks as he tries to take Joyce from his arms. Hopper is reluctant, afraid that she is going to stop breathing once she doesn't feel his touch anymore.

"Come on son I can't help her until she's on the porch." His father instructs as Hopper slowly nods and relinquishes his hold on her.

Hopper watches as she struggles to swallow. Her gaze now roaming the ceiling of the porch.

"Go get my radio son and the first aid kit." Greg instructed as he began to take a mental note of Joyce's injuries. It's not until Hopper reaches for her hand that he notices her pinky. The one she held his with in the bathroom is laying at an unnatural angle.

"The bastard broke her pinky!" Hopper cries at his father's side.

"That pinky is the least of our problems Jim, get my radio, now!"

"No need, I got it." His mother's voice calls from the screen door.

"David and two units are at the trailer now, Travis took off into the woods. They're looking for him." Mary informs her husband who is now standing at Joyce's side.

"Mary, I need you to stay here with the kids, I'm going to find that fucking bastard if it's the last thing I do. Jim, come here son, I need your help." Hopper does as he's instructed. Watching his dad lift Joyce's limp neck from the porch almost kills him.

"Son, I need you to sit right here, come on, place your thigh under her head. Watch her breathing and try and keep her talking, do whatever you have to do take keep her awake." Hopper nods, running his hand over the top of Joyce's head. His stomach rolls when he notices clumps of her hair coming away with the touch.

With those instructions, Greg is off the porch and heading to his blazer, his slightly untucked uniform shirt billowing behind him. He slings gravel and dirt in his haste to get to the trailer.

Glancing in his rearview mirror, he watches the three most important people in his life huddle together on his porch. He had never wanted to kill another man in his life, but he guessed that the old saying was true, there's always a first time for everything.

"Patient is Joyce Horowitz, a seventeen-year-old female, broken nose, dislocated right shoulder, blunt force trauma to the head and possible rib fractures. Broken pinky on her right hand." The EMT called ahead on his radio the moment Joyce was loaded into the ambulance. Hopper recognized the driver as Anthony O'Malley, a guy about six years older than him. Hopper held his mother's hand as they watched the paramedic take Joyce's vitals.

Hopper takes his other hand and places it on Joyce's knee, praying she can tell he's there.

"Come on Joyce don't do this to me, you have to fight." Hopper pleads, as his mother rubs soothing circles on his back.

"Y'all might want to cover your ears for this, it's going to make one hell of a sound." The EMT announced as he carefully picked up Joyce's injured hand.

"Wait, isn't that going to hurt like hell?" Hopper questioned, trying to keep Joyce from having unnecessary pain.

"Buddy, she's here right now, but her mind's not. It shut down to protect her from her trauma and It's better if I fix it now while she's out. I promise it's going to hurt worse if we wait."

"Come on honey, let him so his job." Mary soothes, pulling Hopper's head to lay on her shoulder. Using her other hand, she covers his ears and closes her eyes. It takes less than a minute for Joyce's finger to be reset and taped to her ring finger.

"We're pulling in now." O'Malley calls into the radio, alerting the hospital staff to be on the ready. The ambulance stops suddenly and before Hopper can stand up, the doors are being swung open and a swarm of medical personnel are already removing Joyce's stretcher from the ambulance. Rushing through the hospital doors, Hopper is at Joyce's side.

"Come on Joy, you have to fight, I can't lose you." He pleads with her, not even knowing if she can hear him. A hand on his shoulder stops him as they pass through a set of double doors.

"Son I can't let you go any further, I'm going to need you to take a seat out in the lobby for me okay?"

"Please, I need to know she's okay!" Hopper begs, not giving a damn that everyone in the emergency department can hear him crying.

"I can't allow it Jim and you know that. Now go on, If I hear anything before your dad gets here, I'll radio him okay?" It's not until Hopper hears mention of his father that he focuses on the man who is blocking him from following Joyce. It's Mark, his dad's second in command. "Jim, I promise you, you'll do nothing but get in the way back there. Besides your mom is pretty shook up, I think she needs you more than Joyce does at the moment."

"Wait, if you're here, that means…"

"Yeah, Travis is here too. Apparently, she broke his nose. Your girls a fighter Jim."

"Bastard deserves to have his neck broke." Hopper growls, wanting more than ever to make his way into the back hallways of the hospital.

"I agree son, that's why I'm going to let your father do the talking once he gets here. But for now, I need you to sit down, go smoke a cigarette or something and let those doctors save her life okay?"

Running his hands through his hair, Jim steps away from Mark, heading down the hallway toward the emergency room waiting area. "Guess mom was going to find out my smoking habit sooner or later." He mumbled to himself as he motioned for her to follow him outside.

The sound of boots approaching makes Travis raise his head. The curtain dividing his small cubicle from the next is pulled back by none other than Greg Hopper.

"How's it going Chief, long time no see!" Travis calls, attempting to wave, although both of his hands are handcuffed to his bed. Greg doesn't say a word as he walks over to Travis's bedside. Pulling out a rolling stool from a nearby desk, he sits, close enough to feel Travis's breath on his face.

"How's my girl doing out there? She still kicking? Shame she got away before I could teach her how to be a true lady." Travis chuckles to himself, no longer giving a damn what he says to anyone.

"They treating you good in here Horowitz?" Greg asked, looking around the small room.

"Treating me just fine. Doc came in, reset my nose and I'm assuming you're here to give me my slap on the wrist?"

Greg runs his hands over his face before giving Travis a sweet smile. Moving faster than Travis thought he could, Greg's fist connected with his freshly set nose, making the bone dislodge again. Before Travis can even scream, Greg has his hands around the man's throat.

"You listen here you son of a bitch. Joyce is my girl. You hear me? She is my daughter, and I have been a better father to her than you could ever dream of being. You best believe that I'll be calling in every favor I can when you go to prison. With any luck, you'll be dead in a week." Greg hissed. Squeezing Travis's throat one more time for good measure, he let go, wiping the blood from Travis's freshly broken nose onto his already disgusting shirt.

"If I even hear of you even thinking about Joyce again, I'll kill you myself is that clear?" Greg warns as he grasps the curtain divider in his hand. For once, Travis Horowitz didn't have a damn thing to say.

Hopper is on his third cigarette when he looks up to see his father making his way toward him and his mother. Quickly taking one last drag, he drops the butt and crushes it under his boot.

"Dad is she okay? Please tell me she's okay!" Jim's pleading to his father and Greg doesn't say a word as he pulls his son into a tight hug.

"I don't know son, they haven't told me anything." Greg whispers as he feels Jim begin to shake in his arms.

"I can't lose her dad, I love her. She's the one. I know I sound crazy, but she's it!" Jim cries into his father's shoulders, Greg's arms are the only thing holding him up.

"All we can do is wait and pray." Greg looks to his wife, knowing she's thinking the same thing he is. Either their sons heart is going to be broken beyond repair in the next few hours, or it's going to become fiercely protective of the girl he's going to marry.

A hand is gently shaking Greg awake. Coming back to consciousness, he realizes a doctor is standing in front of him. He motions for Greg to follow him and as carefully as he can, he slides his arm out from under Mary, who has Jim's head laying in her lap. Following the doctor to a small side room, Greg is prepared for the worst.

"Mr. Hopper, I'm Dr. Perkins, head of trauma. I was told to report Miss. Horowitz condition to you. Am I correct?"

"Yeah that's correct, how bad is she?" Greg is straight to the point.

"Chief, I'm not going to bullshit you, that girl is lucky to be alive. Two of her ribs were fractured, her shoulder dislocated, broken nose and pinky. Not to mention the beating she took. If your son hadn't found her when he did, she wouldn't be here right now."

Greg is running his hand through his hair, pacing in the small room. "She's going to be okay though right? She's going to make it?"

"She's going to be extremely sore for at least the next month, and it wouldn't surprise me if she had some form of PTSD, but yes, she's going to make it."

Relief floods Greg's body. He hasn't been this tore up since Mary's blood pressure dropped when she was in labor.

"Thank you so much Doc, when can we see her?"

"I can take y'all back now if you'd like. I have to warn you though, there is considerable bruising, and swelling. We have her sedated for the pain and depending on her vitals, we should be able to wake her up over the next day or so. I'll wait here while you gather your family."

Greg nods as he leaves the room, carefully waking Mary and Jim to follow him back down the hallway toward the patients rooms.

Hopper didn't recognize the woman in the hospital bed before him. Her face is so swollen it looks like it's about to burst. Her right arm is in a sling, her pinky is in a tiny brace, taped to her ring finger, and the bruises are the worst he has ever seen. But she's breathing. The sight of her chest rising and falling is the most beautiful thing Hopper has ever seen. He's not listening as Dr. Perkins talks to his parents, he's just watching her. I promise Joyce, I'm not going to leave your side.

He feels his dad standing behind him, then a hand on his shoulder.

"We're going to go back to the house and get a few things for Joyce. When we come back, I want you to go home. Take a shower, and try to get some sleep okay?" Hopper nods, still not taking his eyes off of Joyce.

"I promise you son, he's going to pay for this."