A slamming door was never a good sign. A slamming door in the Hopper household meant that shit was about to go down. Mary stood from the kitchen table, completely forgetting the recipe book in front of her and before she could make the hallway, Greg was in front of her, his face redder than a tomato.

"Greg whats going on?" She questioned, never having seen her husband in such a state. He passes her, heading toward the cabinet above the fridge. Also never a good sign. Greg brings down a bottle of scotch, not bothering with a glass and takes a long sip straight from the bottle. Coming up for a breath, he turns to face Mary who now has her hands on her hips.

"You going to tell me what's going on or are you going to make me guess?"

"Where are the kids?" He asks, moving to sit at the kitchen table. Mary joins him, placing her hand on top of his.

"They went to check on the tree house. They haven't been there since Halloween. Now tell me what's going on Greg." Mary demands, not liking the anger that's rolling off of her husband is waves.

"That bastard is trying to say he never touched Joyce. That he hasn't seen her in weeks. Which I know for a fact is a damn lie, because she was at the trailer when I arrested him for failure to appear. He's saying she wasn't at the trailer when he nearly beat her to death and for some strange reason, the judge is actually willing to hear his side of the story even though everyone knows he's a boldface liar. Mary, you didn't see him... He had blood covering his hands, his shirt... I've never been so happy to see a man with a broken nose in my life. Then he has the balls to say he didn't touch her? He's just ashamed a seventeen-year-old half his size broke his nose." Greg finishes in a rush. Allowing him a few seconds to breathe, Mary begins to formulate a plan.

"Honey, you're going to have to ask her for help. Jim too, I know both of them want to see that bastard behind bars just as much as you do. It's going to hurt like hell for both of them and there's no doubt about that, but you have to clean and stabilize a wound before it begins to heal. The cleaning is always the most painful part, but the relief you feel afterwards makes the pain worth it in the end." Mary reaches for her recipe book and turns to the section on entrees. "What do you say to a chicken pie for dinner?"

—-

"See, I told you Joyce, nothing to worry about. The tree house is still standing." Hopper laughs as their beloved hideaway comes into view. Joyce lets out an audible sigh. It had been three weeks since she had last been to the treehouse. Three full weeks of sleeping in Hoppers' warm and comfortable bed, which she would gladly take that over a cold couch any day. Placing her foot on the bottom run, Joyce attempted to begin her climb, but was stopped when Hopper's hand touched her.

"Are you sure you can climb up there? I don't want you getting hurt." He stated, coming to stand behind her in case she begins to fall.

"I'm fine Hop, I'm out of that sling and all I have is this stupid little brace here on my pinky. I've climbed up here with far worse before."

"Touche." Hopper sighs. "If you start getting tired of anything let me know and I'll carry you up the rest of the way."

"Whatever you say, Hop." She laughed and climbed up the ladder without a problem. Climbing through the hatch, Joyce pulled herself up and surveyed the tree house. The couch was still laid out as a bed and the floor was in serious need of a sweep. Besides that everything seemed to be intact. Hopper reached for the .22 that was still laying on their small table and placed it back in the gun rack.

"Can't believe we haven't been here in almost a month." Joyce pouts, looking for the broom as she goes. She catches Hopper going for the bed. He doesn't slip his shoes off as he lays on his back, resting his hands behind his head.

"Hop, what are you doing?" Joyce huffs, finally finding the broom.

"Staying out of your way while you go on your unnecessary cleaning spree. It's a tree house, Joyce. We're not going to be coming back here for any length of time until at least April, so why worry about cleaning?"

"Because it will make it easier when we do come back." She said, already sweeping debris from the floor into a pile.

"Well, when you're ready to head back to the house, let me know." Hopper sighs, closing his eyes.

"You're really going to let me clean this whole place by myself?" Joyce whined.

"You're the one who wanted to come out here, remember?"

Two can play that game she thought. Placing the broom back in the corner, Joyce walked over to where he was laying and carefully climbed on top of him, straddling his thighs.

Hopper smiled when he felt the bed dip and looked up at her. "Finally realize I was right?"

"Shut up." Leaning forward with a grin, Joyce kissed him hard. Her fingers tangling through his hair as she opened her mouth and allowed him to stroke his tongue against hers. Biting back a moan, Joyce continued to distract him with her lips as she slid her uninjured hand between them, directly over the hardness she could feel beneath his jeans. His hips unconsciously flexed against her palm, a groan catching in his throat.

"Mmm, what are you doing?" Hopper asked, his hands sliding down her back to rest on her hips.

"Nothing, just sitting here, enjoying the view." She teased, kissing her way across his jaw and down his neck. Her fingers stroked over the seam of his crotch, then she grabbed his belt buckle, getting the claps free before his hand covered hers.

Moving to rest on his elbow, he let go of her hand to make her look at him. "Seriously...what are you doing?" He asked, searching her eyes for answers.

Biting her lip, she leaned forward to give him a quick kiss. "Messing around?"

"You know we can't..."

"Why not?" Joyce asked, quickly pulling his belt through the clasp, going for the button on his jeans next.

Hopper swallowed, suddenly nervous when he couldn't give her a reason why. "What exactly is it you want to do?" His hand wrapped around her wrist to keep her from going any further.

Using her free hand, Joyce grabbed the back of Hopper's head, nipping his lip before giving him a slow, deep kiss. "I just want to touch you…"

"Are you sure?" He asked, stroking his thumb against her skin as he continued to hold her.

Joyce pulled on his hair lightly, watching his eyes roll back. "Do you not want me to?"

"No!... I mean, fuck Joyce… I've wanted your hand on my dick since I was fifteen. I just... I just want to make sure that you're ready to do this. I don't want to do anything to hurt you or make you feel uncomfortable in any way."

"Hop, you don't know how long I've wanted to touch you. I just couldn't...because I didn't want to feel like I was leading you on, but now…" Joyce falls quiet.

"But now?" Hopper let go of her wrist and moved his hand to brush her cheek.

"Now it's more of an... if this is so wrong, then I don't want to be right type of situation."

Hopper is silent, still searching for the answer to the question he has been asking for years. "What exactly are you saying?" He sits up a little straighter, his crotch unintentionally rubbing against her.

A sigh she had been trying to hold back escapes with his accidental touch. "I'm saying that I'm yours Hop. I want the hand-holding, the dates, the cheesy notes. I want it all, I want-"

Her words are drowned out by Hoppers' lips on hers. He's kissing her like she's oxygen and he's starved for a breath. His hands are on either side of her face, keeping her as close to him as possible. Joyce finds her fingers running through his hair, pulling slightly at the back of his neck.

"I just want you." Joyce whispers as she rests her forehead against his. The idea of finally being his causing her heart rate to increase slightly.

"Just so we're clear...you and I are officially dating? Like I'm your boyfriend dating?" He questions, leaning back onto the bed, allowing her to comfortably sit on his thighs once more.

"Yes Hop, I'm your girlfriend." Joyce smiles, feeling like someone just placed a crown on her head.

"Then I definitely don't see a problem with you continuing your plan of action." He jokes, gently thrusting toward her, keeping his hands on her hips to give her total control. In no time at all, her fingers found their way under his shirt, skimming over the trail of hair leading from his navel down to where it disappeared under the waist of his jeans. Enjoying the feel of his tight muscles against her skin. When she pushed his unclasped belt out of the way, he sucked in a deep breath, suddenly becoming hyper-aware of what was about to happen.

Her delicate fingers made quick work of the button on his jeans and before he knew it, she was slowly pulling down his zipper, exposing the thin material of his boxers, which didn't leave much to the imagination.

Joyce had no idea what to do at this point. Now that one barrier was gone, she started getting nervous. Choosing to avoid looking at his face, she tentatively reached out to grip him through his boxers, running her fingers, then her palm over him gently. She snapped her eyes up to meet his when he sucked in a sharp breath, finding his pupils already blown.

When Joyce paused for more than a few seconds, Hopper squeezed her thighs, trying to keep a clear head. "You don't have to do this Joyce. I won't be mad if you want to stop."

"I just don't know what to do." She admitted and Hopper smiled.

"Do whatever you want."

"When other girls…you know… what did they do that you liked?" She questioned, feeling a hint of anger toward any other female that had touched him before her and shame for being completely clueless when it came to this.

"I wouldn't know...no other girl has touched me the way you are right now Joy."

"Seriously? After all those dates, you never..." She asked, completely baffled.

"Nope. Why would I let someone else touch me when my girl was sitting at home?"

Joyce felt her chest tighten. Amazed he actually waited all this time considering the numerous opportunities thrown his way. Most guys would have jumped on the first available girl willing to show them their boobs, but apparently not Hopper. In a sense she should have known better. For one, he didn't lie to her. And two, he had been telling her for years, almost daily how much he loved her and wanted to be with her. "What if I hurt you?" She finally asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Finding the entire situation somewhat embarrassing. She just wanted this to be good for him.

A laugh escaped his lips and he instantly felt bad when he saw the look on her face. "I'm sorry...here." Lifting his hips slightly, he gripped the band of his boxers and slid them, along with his jeans down far enough to allow his impressive erection to spring free. "I promise whatever you do, you're not going to hurt me unless you're trying to."

Joyce's eyes went wide when she finally took in all of him laid out bare to her for the first time. She knew he was big, having felt him pressed against her on more than one occasion, but actually seeing it in the flesh was an entirely different experience. Reaching out, she hesitantly wrapped her fingers around his length, but quickly pulled her hand away when he flinched.

"What? What did I do?" She asked, almost panicking.

Hopper chuckled, grabbing her wrist to bring her back. "Nothing, your hands are just fucking cold."

With a sigh, she allowed him to guide her to where her fingers were once again wrapped around him. Taking a few minutes to get used to the weight in her hand, she squeezed him carefully and lightly let her fingertips slide over the smooth skin of the underside of his cock. When she heard him gasp and felt a slight twitch against her hand, a flood of arousal coursed through her own body causing her to press her thighs harder against his.

"Will you show me how?"

Biting his lip to hold back a groan, Hopper placed his hand over hers and linked their fingers together, stroking up and down his cock, squeezing harder each time her hand reached the tip. He purposely made sure her palm slid over the slickness of his precum to spread it back down over his length. "It's OK." He panted when she gasped at the wetness touching her skin. "That's supposed to happen, just means it feels good." Letting her go, he gripped her thighs and watched her tiny hand stroke him exactly how he'd showed her, feeling himself starting to get extremely overwhelmed.

Joyce tried to squeeze her thighs together again to ease the ache between her legs but failed to find any relief until she shifted and ground down against Hopper's leg with a whimper.

"Oh Fuck." Hopper moaned, fisting a hand into the sheet under them when he realized she was practically dry humping him. Thrusting into her hand harder, he bit his lip when her grip was becoming too much. "Joyce...I'm close."

Turning her wrist slightly, Joyce changes the angle of her strokes and moans when his hips leave the bed, pushing his thigh directly against her still aching clit. "Tell me what to do." She chokes out, never slowing her movements.

Hopper squeezed his eyes shut and ran a hand over his face, struggling to form a coherent thought. "I don't…" He starts, reaching out to grab the bottom of the sheet to pull over his middle just as he starts to cum. "Shit…" Is the last word he's able to make out as his release covers Joyce's hand and the sheet. Joyce is amazed by the amount of cum that is currently coating her palm and continues pumping him, enjoying watching him wither beneath her. When she finally stops, both of them are breathing heavily.

"Sorry, it's messy I know." Hopper apologized, taking Joyce's hand out from under the sheet to carefully wipe it off, followed by his dick.

"Is it usually that much"? Joyce questions, feeling a slight stickiness left between her fingers.

"Nah never, that was all because of you Joy." Hopper mumbles against her lips. Even though he just blew the biggest load of his life he can already feel himself getting hard again in his jeans. "We need to come clean the treehouse more often." He laughs, ignoring the playful slap Joyce puts on his chest.

—-

Knowing they have been gone for longer than this task should have taken, they carefully climb down the ladder and head back to the farm. Taking a pack of camels from his coat pocket, Hopper lights one of his last cigarettes and takes a long drag. When he offers it to Joyce, she takes it into her small hand and brings it to her lips.

"You promise that was okay back there?" She asked as she exhaled, smoke coming from her lungs and out into the chilly air.

"Words can't even describe how amazing it was Joy. Now I'll have to return the favor." Hopper puts his arm around Joyce's shoulder as they walk.

"Hopper you don't have to return any favors, it's just something I wanted to try."

"And what if I want to try stuff too?" He asks, taking his cigarette back from her. "I mean, you seemed to enjoy Halloween a hell of a lot." He laughs as Joyce playfully shoves his shoulder.

The sight of the farmhouse promised warmth and a hot meal. Mary had been deciding on what to make for dinner when they had left for the tree house. Kicking the light snow off of their boots, Hopper and Joyce walked into the house, both sighing at the heat that enveloped them. Walking into the kitchen however, they weren't met with the smell of dinner. Instead Mary and Greg were both huddled around the kitchen table. Countless photos from Joyce's black box and random documents littering the surface and surrounding chairs. Deep in conversation, the Hoppers didn't hear Joyce and Jim enter the house. Instantly feeling the change in Joyce's demeanor, Hopper shuffled in front of her, blocking the majority of the pictures from view.

"What's going on?" Jim calls out. His parents startle at the sudden sound of their son's voice.

"Jim we were just...we didn't hear you come in." Mary stutters, frantically trying to gather up the papers and photographs from the table. Hopper felt Joyce move around his body, allowing her to fully see what's going on in front of her. When Greg's eyes land on Joyce she can't help but to feel shame for the second time that day.

"It's okay Mrs. Hopper, it's not like I haven't seen it all before." Joyce says, moving further into the kitchen. She hesitantly sits down at the table, suddenly surrounded by images she knows she will never be able to forget. Hopper sits down beside her, his hand finding hers under the table, her braced pinky finger sitting outside his grip. Greg is the first to break the silence, knowing he's going to have to broach the subject of their help sooner rather than later.

"Travis is saying he never touched you, Joyce. That all these bruises came from somewhere else and for some reason, the judge is willing to hear his side of the story. It's in your best interest for us to make a timeline, documenting anything and everything he's ever done to you."

The Hopper's watch as Joyce picks a photograph up from the table. Examining the black and purple bruise she had on her back earlier this year. Fighting the tears she knew were coming, she laid the photo back down on the table.

"This was because I didn't have a perfect time for the track part of the spring physical in April." Joyce slid the photo over, reaching for one where she had marks on her ribs.

"And this one was for making a B in calculus." Her voice hitched and Hopper instantly picked up on the change in her breathing.

"Joyce you don't have to do this." He protested, knowing it was hurting him about half as bad as it was her.

"He has to pay for what he did and if that means that I have to endure making a timeline, then that's what I'll do." She felt Hopper's hand slide to her knee. Mary moved first, taking a small pen and paper, she wrote down the cause of the beating and when. Carefully attaching it to the photo with a piece of masking tape, she did the same for the second photograph. For twenty minutes the family sat at the table, labeling and discussing the photographs. It wasn't until a loud knock came from the front door that they realized they hadn't even made a dent in the black box. Glancing down at his watch, Greg stands from the table.

"Who the hell could that be?" He wonders aloud.

"Lord I didn't realize it was so late, and I haven't even started cooking dinner yet!" Mary exclaims, quickly getting to her feet and heading for the fridge.

Joyce feels Hopper's hand on her shoulder and he starts rubbing small circles to try and calm her.

"You okay Joy?" He whispers, not wanting to draw attention to the obvious anxiety she's feeling. He watches as she nods and reaches for another photo.

"This one came from when I wouldn't tell him where I had been all weekend." She halfheartedly smiled, looking back up to Hopper. "It was that weekend when you and me went down to-"

"I already told you, if she doesn't want to see you then you're leaving, no if's and's or but's about it." Greg's voice echoes down the hallway. The sound of two separate bodies moving their way reaches the kitchen and Hopper can already feel Joyce shaking. Standing to his full height, he stands beside Joyce, ready to block her from whoever is approaching with his father.

"I'm not going to hurt her Greg, I just need to see her." A feminine voice exclaims from the hallway. Greg is the first to enter the kitchen, followed by a woman Joyce hadn't seen in eleven years. Standing in the doorway of the Hopper's kitchen was Linda, her biological mother.

—-

"What are you doing here Linda?" Mary asks from her spot at the sink. She watches as Linda's eyes quickly scan the kitchen, before landing on Joyce and the remaining pictures on the table.

"Oh my Joyce, I'm so sorr-"

"Don't." The single word pushes past Joyce's lips and Linda snaps her mouth shut.

Mary can feel the anger and hatred rolling off not only Joyce, but Greg and Jim as well. She sees Jim place his hands protectively on both of Joyce's shoulders and notices he's taking care not to touch her right one with too much pressure. Linda is focusing on the photos on the table too much for Mary's liking. Ignoring the silence in the room, she quickly grabs a tablecloth from the pantry and places it on the table, covering up any and all the evidence they had against Travis with one quick swoop.

"Why don't we go into the sitting room so everyone can talk?" Greg states, noticing the look of murder in his wife's eyes.

"That would be a splendid idea Greg, I'm sure we all have a lot of catching up to do." Linda's voice fills the kitchen, her eyes still resting on Joyce and Hopper.

"Right this way then." He instructs, motioning for her to follow him out of the kitchen. The moment Linda is out of earshot, Mary is at Joyce's side.

"Honey, you don't have to say a word to her if you don't want to. You just tell me when and I'll kick her out of her faster than a buttered bullet okay?"

Joyce nods and stands from the table. Hopper has his hand in hers in seconds.

"I'm right behind you Joy, I promise, nothing is going to happen to you." He whispers into her ear.

Joyce takes his hand in hers and leads the way towards the sitting room.

Linda is already sitting down in one of the high backed chairs and Greg is leaning close to the rarely-used fireplace. When Joyce enters, she can feel both Greg and Linda's eyes landing on her and Hopper's hands. Quickly claiming the love seat as theirs, Joyce sits and stares at Linda, waiting for her to begin speaking.

"Hey baby doll, you've grown up so much since the last time I saw you." Linda exclaims, focusing all of her attention on Joyce.

"Yeah, that's what happens when you don't see someone for a decade, Linda." Joyce snipped, eyeing the women who had abandoned her years before.

"What do you want Linda?" Jim's voice deadpanned. It was taking every last bit of his willpower not to throw the women who had left Joyce alone with that monster out of his family home.

"Well, I see the politeness just flows from this house." Linda commented, straightening the leg of her light pink pantsuit. "Word got around through my church that Travis had been arrested and is to be tried for child abuse and attempted rape. When I knew it was safe to come back-"

"You go to church?" Joyce mouthed off, not giving a damn about the look Linda was giving her

"What do you mean attempted rape? Joyce what is she talking about?" Hopper's voice broke through the chatter of the room, unfortunately his question went unnoticed.

"Well yes, of course, I am a preacher's wife, it would be unforgivable of me not to attend." She voiced.

"Wait, wait, wait...So you're telling me that you left me ten years ago and just completely got a new life? You married a preacher? Next, you're going to tell me I have a brother." Joyce laughed, moving to the edge of her seat.

"You have three actually." Linda replied, looking down at her polished nails. The sitting room falling silent.

"You have gotta be shitting me!" Joyce suddenly yelled, making Hopper jump at her sudden outburst.

"Maybe I should make some coffee." Mary suggested, sidestepping out of the room. She needed an excuse to leave before she hit that horrible woman.

"Watch your language young lady!" Linda snapped, looking at Joyce as if she had been raised by a pack of wolves.

"I most certainly will not watch my language! You fucking left me! A seven-year-old, with a man who beat you every fucking night, who hurt me for doing the dishes wrong. You left without a word and all of a sudden you show up here, after ten fucking years and for what? To reconnect with the daughter you abandoned? To tell me that I have a stepdad whose a preacher and three brothers who probably don't even know my name? Does your husband even know I exist?" She screams, unable to hold back the rage anymore.

"Of course he doesn't cupcake..."

"Don't fucking call me that. I am not your precious fucking cupcake. I am the daughter you abandoned in a drug-induced haze who never heard from you again! Do you know what he did to me? What I've had to endure over the years? He broke my fucking nose, dislocated my god damn collar bone and beat me until I couldn't move on countless occasions. Those pictures you saw in the kitchen do not do justice to the torture my body has been through because of you and him! If it wasn't for the Hopper's taking me in I would have died in that fucking trailer because you didn't have the guts to take me with you! Your own damn daughter! Now you come crawling back here asking for what? Forgiveness? I won't give you the satisfaction of being forgiven! I want it to sit and eat away at you like his touch did me!" Joyce screamed, her throat giving out with the force of her anger.

"But I'm your mother!" Linda cries standing to her feet.

"My mother is in the kitchen making your fucking coffee!" The room echoes with Joyce's words. She's holding back tears, refusing to let the women in front of her see her cry. Greg steps up from the fireplace then, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Linda I think it's time for you to go. She's said her peace. Now leave her be." His authoritative voice demands. Stepping between Joyce and Linda, Greg directs the woman toward the front of the house. Seconds later, they heard the front door open and the sound of a car starting fills the night. When Greg returns, informing them that Linda has left, all the rage Joyce was feeling quickly turned to exhaustion. The tears she had been trying so hard to hold back broke like a damn and trickle down her cheeks onto her red sweater. She feels Hopper's hand on her hip, trying to turn her to him, and as bad as she wants to just lay in his arms until she forgets this whole ordeal she cant. She needed to be alone to breathe.

"Hop, I can't right now, I need some time alone, to think." She whispers, hoping he understood. Hopper gives her a sad smile before laying a light kiss on her forehead.

"Don't wander off too far. It's cold outside." He coaxes, giving her hand two quick squeezes, before letting her go. Joyce was out the front door in seconds, already knowing her destination. The old porch swing to the right of the Hopper's front door had been a favorite spot of Joyce's for as long as she could remember. The wood chilled her skin through the denim of her jeans as she climbed into the swing, but the cold was the last thing on her mind.

The farm is silent with the exception of the slight squeaking of the old chains on the swing. Joyce quickly wipes her eyes when the sound of the front door opening intrudes on her thoughts. Mary is making her way over to her, a blanket over her arm and a cup of steaming hot chocolate in her hand.

"Figured you could use something warm for your throat." Mary commented, placing the cup down on a small side table. "Mind if I join you?" She questioned, gesturing to the spot to Joyce's right. Joyce shook her head, holding the swing still with her tiptoes while Mary climbed up and threw the flannel blanket over both of their laps.

"Joyce, honey you have every right to be mad at her. She left you and no mother should ever abandon her child. No matter how bad the circumstances are. You've been through more than any woman should have to go through, and it has made you so very strong. You've said your peace to her. She knows how you feel, and that anger that you're holding inside, you need to let it go honey. If you don't, it will eat you alive until there is nothing else, and darling you've fought too damn hard to let something like that tear you down." Mary finishes, opening her arms as Joyce leans into her. Mary holds her tightly against the November chill.

"You may not have come from my body Joyce, but you are my daughter. I'm here whenever you need me, no matter what time of the day or night. I'm here to protect you from whatever demons may come knocking on your door, understand?"

Joyce can't help the tears that are falling and stinging her cheeks in their wake.

"Now we're going to sit out here for a few more minutes and you cry all you need to, but once we leave this swing, we're not going to shed another tear for Linda again, agreed?"

"Yeah, I think I can do that." Joyce whispered, not wanting to strain her voice any more than she already had that evening.

"Good, because once we've gathered ourselves, I'm sending you and Jim to the diner. After all that I don't feel like cooking chicken pie tonight."

"I honestly can't say I blame you. I'm sorry for my language in your house Mrs. Hopper."

"Don't think nothing of it honey, I wanted to tell the bitch off too. And you don't have to call me Mrs. Hopper. You can call me Mary or mom if you'd like darling."

Joyce, nodded, moving to fist her hand in the blanket on their lap.

"What do you say we go inside Mom? It's getting a little cold out here."