"Joyce?" Greg calls as he approaches his son's bedroom, adjusting his belt to reposition the holster for his pistol. "You about ready to go darlin'?" He stopped in the doorway to see Jim zipping up Joyce's coat and placing a kiss on her forehead.
With a sigh Joyce reluctantly pulls away from Hopper, not at all looking forward to the next few hours. "As ready as I'll ever be."
Hopper carefully reaches out to take her hand, quickly squeezing it two times. "You'll be fine. Dad will be with you the entire time, and mom and I will have dinner waiting for you when you get back." He says, giving her a soft smile, hoping to ease the anxiety he knew she was feeling.
With a nod, Joyce once again let him go and lead the way down stairs, the two men close behind as they entered the kitchen to tell Mary they were leaving. Greg leaned down where Mary was sitting at the table to give her a quick kiss and Joyce offered a small wave before her and Greg walked out to his blazer.
"They're just going to ask you a few questions and file some paperwork to get the case moving as quickly as possible. If Travis comes across the right lawyer, there's a chance he'll be released from jail before the hearing. I may be the Chief, but I can't keep him forever without the proper proceedings." Greg offered, flicking on his turn signal as he reached the end of the driveway.
Joyce tensed at Greg's words and turned to face him. "What?"
Pulling out onto the deserted road, Greg gently placed a hand on Joyce's knee. "Don't you worry darlin'. I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure he stays behind bars for as long as possible."
Joyce gave him a silent nod and swallowed, a familiar feeling suddenly washing over her. Greg had never given her any reason to not trust him, but just the thought of Travis possibly having a chance to touch her again made her skin crawl. Without thinking, Joyce reached down to place her hand over Greg's on her knee, squeezing it slightly to try and keep herself grounded. She didn't need to have a panic attack before they even got there.
Greg glanced out of the corner of his eye to take in the sight of Joyce holding his hand. The amount of trust in the small gesture taking him by surprise. Joyce had every right to never trust a man again, especially a father figure, and to know she felt comfortable enough around him to show vulnerability made him swallow down a lump in his throat, the shock of emotions currently hitting him becoming overwhelming. He loved Joyce as much as he loved his son and wanted nothing but the best for her, which is why he was also dreading the next few hours. He didn't want to see her hurt anymore and her lawyer was going to dig up things from her past that he knew for a fact was going to cause her pain.
The rest of the ride was met with silence. Greg not wanting to risk breaking the moment that was allowing Joyce's mind a few extra minutes of calm by engaging in conversation. At least not until he pulled into his normal spot in front of the station and cut the engine to the blazer.
Turning slightly to face the girl he saw as his daughter, he kept ahold of her hand and finally broke the silence. "Before we go in there…" He started. "I think it's fair to warn you that they're going to mention some things that are going to upset you...but I don't want you to get scared okay?"
Joyce slowly met his eyes. "Like what?" She asked, feeling her heart rate begin to rise.
Rubbing his free hand over his face, Greg squeezed hers one more time before pulling away, shaking his head. "I'm not at liberty to say...but I want you to listen to me. At any time you feel uncomfortable or want to leave, just let me know and we'll go." He offered, clearing his throat before opening his door. "Ready?"
Sucking in a deep breath, Joyce gave another silent nod and quickly followed him inside. The sudden wave of chaos that slammed into her upon entering the station made her tense up almost instantly. The phones were ringing off the hook, people were filling up every empty space available trying to talk over one another and she was pretty sure a fight was starting to break out between a couple Flo was trying to help. Hopper hadn't been lying when he told her how busy his father got after the holidays and she suddenly felt bad he was taking time away from his day to help her when others obviously needed his help more than she did.
Keeping a hand on Joyce's back, Greg lead her through the crowded station, ignoring the looks from his co-workers as they headed down a long hallway to an empty room with a small table and four chairs.
"Go ahead and take a seat, I'll be right back."
Joyce watched as Greg disappeared around the corner, thankful he left the door open as she reluctantly pulled out a chair and sat down with her hands in her lap. There was a folder placed on the table across from where she was sitting. A folder she assumed held ever piece of information for her case. She hesitantly reached a hand toward it, but quickly retreated when she heard footsteps approaching.
Greg returned with an older man and shut the door behind them, making sure the blinds in the room were drawn.
"Joyce, this is Brad Walker." Greg introduced, sliding in to sit next to her.
"Pleasure to finally meet you Joyce." Brad offered, extending his hand to her before taking a seat across the table. Joyce stayed quiet after letting his hand go, so Brad rubbed his chin and made a move to get things rolling. When he opened the folder, Joyce's eyes instantly fell to the first thing in the stack that looked to be hundreds of pages of paperwork and pictures. Laying at the surface was a loose image of herself, one she hadn't actually seen before. A picture of her in the hospital.
Brad's voice interrupted her lingering eyes and she snapped them up to meet his just as he closed the folder back and placed a piece of paper on top of it. "Now I'm going to try to make this as quick as possible so you can enjoy the rest of your evening and Greg can get back to work." Pulling out a pen, Brad continued. "Alright let's start out with the simple questions. You're seventeen, is that correct?"
"Yes."
"And you're currently a senior at Hawkins High School?"
"Yes."
"I know these sound like silly questions, but everything I'm going to ask you today is going to be important for your future and how the case will proceed. Greg tells me you've been living with him and Mary since the incident with Travis?"
"Yes, well…" Joyce looked over at Greg, then back to Brad wondering if she should continue.
"Go on." Brad offered.
"I've kind of been living with them off and on for years." She wasn't going to mention the tree house. Worried Greg would somehow get in trouble if they thought he knew about the abuse and had kept it a secret.
"You went to them whenever things at home got bad?" Brad asked, marking something down on the paper in front of him.
Joyce subconsciously reached out for Greg who instantly took her hand in his and scooted his chair closer to her. They weren't even at the worst of the questions that she knew were to come and she already felt herself feeling anxious. "Yes." She finally answered.
"And there's nothing wrong with that, if anything this bit of information could change a few things we're going to go over later. Now, did anyone know about the abuse?"
Once again glancing at Greg, Joyce bit her lip and nodded. "Jim knew." She whispered.
"Jim is your son, correct?" Brad asked, looking to Greg. When he received confirmation, Brad directed his attention back to Joyce.
"When did Jim first find out about the abuse?"
Pausing for a second, Joyce rubbed a hand over her face. "I think I was either thirteen or fourteen."
Brad nodded, scribbling something onto the paper. "Am I correct in assuming the abuse started well before then?"
"Yes."
"How old were you the first time Travis hit you?"
Greg felt Joyce tense and lightly squeezed her hand. "I was...maybe six or seven..." She really wasn't sure. The amount of abuse over the years eventually all blended together, it became difficult to remember a time when she wasn't covered in bruises or in some sort of pain.
Joyce completely missed the look of shock on Greg's face at her confession, only noticing a change when he squeezed her hand even harder.
Remembering how small and innocent Joyce was at that age broke Greg's heart imagining her enduring something so cruel, especially while Linda was still present in her life. He always remembered Joyce as a happy child. A bright smile on her face any time she was at the farm playing with Jim. It wasn't until recently he had learned it was just her and Travis alone in that trailer for years.
"Do you remember why he hit you?" Brad asked, dragging Greg from his thoughts.
Joyce shook her head. "I don't know if it was the time I said something after he hit Linda...or if it was when I didn't finish eating my dinner because I was sick."
"That's alright. I'm just trying to get an idea of when everything started. Did Travis and Linda fight often?"
"For as long as I can remember. Things didn't get bad for me until she left...he blamed me for their failed marriage." Joyce admitted with a shrug. Somewhat numb to the fact considering how many times Travis made a point to remind her that she had ruined his life.
"Did Linda ever try to stop Travis when he directed his anger toward you?"
Joyce shook her head, biting the inside of her cheek when she thought about how much she hated Linda even more in that moment.
"When you filed your report after the most recent incident, you said Travis tried to rape you. Has anything like that ever happened before?"
"N-No." Joyce stuttered. "Not like that."
"What do you mean?" Brad asked, clicking his pen open.
"He would touch me...in ways he knew I didn't like, but not exactly like you're probably thinking. He liked to caress my cheek before yelling or slide a finger down my throat in a sensual way, doing anything to get a rise out of me like it was some kind of game. I didn't think much of it until this last time when he tried to undo my pants..."
Taking a few minutes to write something down, Brad stayed quiet as he shuffled around some more papers from the folder, deciding to change the subject when he picked up on her discomfort, as well as Greg's from the way he was watching Joyce out of the corner of his eye. "Can you show me which of these photos is the oldest?"
Joyce slowly removed her hand from Greg's and took the stack of unmarked pictures. The ones her and the Hopper's never got around to labeling. She spread them out in front of her and tried to keep a level head as she was forced to relive some of the most tormenting moments of her life. "It's one of these two." She said after creating a timeline of her own across the table.
Brad placed the two photos to the side and grabbed a paper clip. "What made you decide to start taking all of these in the first place?" He asked while writing notes and clipping labels to the photos.
Joyce reached up to rub the back of her neck. "I think deep down I knew I needed help, even though I wasn't willing to admit it." She said with a sigh, feeling herself getting worked up. "Jim begged me every day to tell someone and I wouldn't let him...I didn't want anyone to know. No one was supposed to ever see these..."
Setting his pen down, Brad met Joyce's eyes from across the table. "Why didn't you just ask Greg for help? As the Chief, surely you knew he was more than capable of handling this and making sure Travis could never touch you again."
Joyce blinked to keep tears she could feel pricking her eyes at bay and swallowed. "I get picked on at school...I never had nice clothes, I always had to wear something with long sleeves to keep the bruises hidden, and kids…they're not really accepting of things they don't understand. I keep to myself and make good grades. I was the weird kid everyone thought was a freak because I was the teacher's pet and wanted to be left alone. I even made Jim leave me alone and he's my best friend. We haven't been seen in school together in the last six years until a few weeks ago."
Greg once again looked over at Joyce as he soaked in all of this newfound information. Jim had mentioned the night he found the black box that Joyce had a difficult time in school, but he never knew she had isolated herself from everyone, including his son, the one person who was constantly glued to her hip when he saw them together.
"And well…" Joyce continued. "I was scared. I didn't want word to get around that Travis had been arrested for abusing me. Giving everyone at school even more of a reason to make fun of me. My life is already complicated enough, i'm the daughter of someone who has a reputation for being a nuisance in Hawkins. What if no one believed me? What if Travis got arrested and was released days later because there wasn't enough evidence? You saw what happened when I got in trouble at school, who knows how bad it would have been if he knew I told?"
"You knew nothing about this?" Brad directed his question to Greg.
"I knew Joyce's home life wasn't the best. I've arrested Travis on more than one occasion for public intoxication and an assault charge, but I only recently found out Linda hasn't been around for close to a decade. Had I known…" Greg sighed, somewhat upset at himself for not acting on his instincts sooner. "This would have been taken care of years ago."
Brad rubbed the back of his hand over his brow and looked down at his notes. "Joyce said she's been living with you and Mary off and on for a long time?"
"Her and my son have been friends since they were around three and four years old. The Horowitz's are the only neighbors we have for miles and It's not uncommon for me to come home and see Joyce helping Jim with his chores, or Mary setting the dinner table for four at least a few times a week. She's been celebrating the holidays with us for as long as I can remember and Mary and I care about her as much as we do our own son."
Brad gave Greg a nod and wrote something down before sighing. "Speaking of that and moving back to discussing Linda. Greg and I have already gone over this Joyce, and we are working to make sure everything works out in your best interest, but by law, since you're underage and Linda is not only your mother, but the only relative we have on record, we have to give her the chance to claim custody over you."
Joyce's eyes went wide and she instantly looked between the two men in the room. "What? Why?" She asked, her voice failing to hide the stress she was suddenly feeling.
"Unfortunately that's how the law works. The paper's were sent to her lawyer a few days ago and all we can do now is wait for a response. However, since Linda hasn't been a part of your life in close to ten years, that bit of information could work well in your favor. The system would rather place you with a family you feel comfortable with over a blood relative if they find Linda unsuitable. The only problem is, Linda's life is fairly consistent. She's married to a preacher and the church and community talk highly of her and her husband. The social worker assigned to your case may see that as the perfect placement for you. The best option, and this is what we're counting on, is that Linda gives up her rights. After that, all I have to do is send off some paperwork and Mary and Greg will be granted temporary custody of you until you turn eighteen."
Joyce felt herself starting to breathe heavier and ran a hand through her hair to stay calm. "So you're telling me there's nothing we can do if she actually wants this?"
"We can fight it. That's why it's a good thing she's been out of your life for so long, as much as I hate to say it. We can go to court and have a custody hearing. Separate from the trial with Travis."
"Yeah...but how often does the court overlook a mother who's apparently living the perfect life?" Joyce asked, sitting up straighter to get more air into her lungs when her anxiety started getting out of control.
"Joyce." Greg spoke suddenly, placing a hand on her back when he saw the early signs of her starting to panic. "Listen to me. Mary and I aren't going to let anyone take you away from us. I need you to calm down darlin', take in a deep breath for me."
Reaching up to wipe her face as tears rained down her cheeks, Joyce did as asked and sucked in a deep breath, failing at holding back a sob. "I can't live with Linda...not after what she did to me." She frowned, looking toward the closest thing she'd ever had to a father.
"And you won't have to, I promise." Greg said. "The case we have against her if she wants custody is foolproof and Brad here is the best lawyer in the state. We're just hoping we can avoid going to court over it."
Joyce sniffed and rubbed a hand up and down her arm to ease her nerves, Greg offering what little comfort he could by keeping his hand placed against her back.
"Are you ok to answer a few more questions for me Joyce?" Brad said through the silence, feeling guilty for even asking as he watched the poor girl breaking down in front of him. He'd worked hundreds of cases dealing with child abuse and custody battles, but he'd never been given actual picture evidence that showcased years of torture. Stories from family members existed, along with photos of abuse when the victims finally came forward, but never like this and never to this degree. Joyce's case had been the worst he'd ever seen and he was honestly surprised she was still sitting in front of him talking. Most of the kids he'd worked with, even at the same age as Joyce were going through special therapy or refused to speak to him all together.
"It's alright if you want to go home honey, we can finish this another time." Greg said, knowing she was getting tired.
Joyce shook her head. "I just want all of this to be over with..."
Brad pointed to the photos still laid out before him that Joyce had rearranged and started working with her to get the rest of them labeled and packed away so they could be presented at the hearing. After another thirty minutes, Brad set his pen down, not wanting to ask Joyce his next question, but knew he had to. "This is the last thing we need to discuss, and Greg and I will gladly leave the room and I'll bring in someone else if you feel more comfortable, but I need to know if you have any scars, or marks from Travis' abuse? and if so we'll need to take pictures to make sure they match up with the images you've provided."
"I have a few scars…" Joyce said quietly before dropping her head when both Brad and Greg's eyes fell on her. She had no idea why she suddenly felt nervous. Both of them had already seen her body in the hundreds of pictures now secured in a folder across from her, there wasn't much left to hide. Her hand slowly reached up to grab the collar of her shirt when she started getting anxious again. "Travis was usually careful about where he'd hit me, most of them are on my back and my ribs. There's one on the inside of my lip, a burn on my arm and a scar near the base of my skull, but I never took photos of those...it happened before Jim found out."
"Wouldn't hurt to document them as well." Brad stated, shifting to stand as he moved the folder from the table into his briefcase.
Greg turned to face Joyce then. "Do you want me to get officer Miller or maybe Flo to take the pictures?"
Joyce shook her head, not willing to admit that the thought of being left in a room with someone she barely knew made her more nervous than just letting one of them do it. "It's ok."
"I'll be right back then." Brad said before exiting the room, leaving Joyce and Greg sitting in silence.
Greg took a moment to collect himself. Watching Joyce the last two hours had opened his eyes to just how strong of a person she really was. She had a determination he'd never seen before and she was only seventeen years old. He couldn't imagine living eleven years of torment and turning out half the person she was. He'd seen grown men return from war just after a year completely ruined without a scratch on them and Joyce seemed like any normal teenage girl if you looked past the nightmares that were slowly fading. Even her PTSD wasn't as severe as it once was and she'd overcome it all on her own. She didn't need therapy or medication to fight her demons.
"Joyce?" Keeping his voice low to not startle her, Greg waited for her to look at him before he continued. "I just want you to know how sorry I am darlin'. I wish I had paid better attention when you were younger and none of this would have ever happened." He was a cop for crying out loud, it was his job to notice these things and in that moment he felt like a failure in some way.
Joyce swallowed the lump in her throat when she was met with Greg's broken expression and tried miserably to blink back fresh tears she could feel pooling in her eyes. "It's not your fault...I didn't want anyone to know." She whispered, wiping the back of her hand across her cheeks to dry them.
Greg leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table and placed his hand on the bridge of his nose, a gesture Joyce realized Hopper had picked up on whenever he was frustrated. "That bastard is going to pay for this. Even if for some reason he isn't sentenced, you have my word that he'll never be able to touch you again. I'll make sure of it."
The sound of the door opening drew Joyce's focus away from her conversation with Greg and over to Brad who was now standing in front of her holding a camera in one hand and a new roll of film in the other. It was a newer model, similar to the one she had gotten for Christmas.
"Sorry, I'm not very good with these things." Brad admitted as he struggled getting the small door open to insert the film.
"May I?" Joyce asked, holding her hand out toward the camera.
Brad handed over the piece of equipment, slightly baffled when she popped the film in no problem and handed it back to him in less than a minute.
"You ready?" Brad asked, not bothering to take a seat.
Joyce paused for a second, looking around the room at nothing in particular before standing and unzipping her coat. She slid the puffy material from her arms and laid it across the back of her chair. When she went for the buttons of her flannel, that's when Greg noticed her hands shaking and reached out to touch her arm.
"Are you sure you don't want me to get someone else?"
Not trusting her voice, Joyce shook her head and tried to ease the tension she could feel between her shoulder blades. Silently wishing she'd worn a shirt under her flannel to have some sort of material to hide behind, she reached the last button and hesitated. No one had seen her scars except Hopper and a sudden feeling of shame washed over her.
"It's ok Joyce, no one here is going to hurt you." Greg offered when he noticed she hadn't made a move to undo the button she'd been holding between her fingers.
Joyce shut her eyes and let the flannel slide from her shoulders, pretending she didn't hear Greg's sudden intake of breath at the sight before him.
"Alright Joyce, I'm going to start with your left side. I just need you to step over here and away from the table." Brad directed, trying to get this over and done with as quickly as possible.
The first flash from the camera caused Joyce to jump slightly and she bit her lip to keep still, knowing the slightest movement would mar the photographs. Brad lingered at her side a moment, making sure to focus on a particularly nasty scar that crept up under her bra.
"Go ahead and turn your back toward me." Brad instructed as he put his finger on the shutter button once more. Joyce complied, trying her best to ignore the feeling of exposure that was gnawing at her as she moved her hair out of the way so he could see the back of her head.
"Can you tell me how you got this scar so I can add it to the file?" Brad asked as she moved her hair again to allow him a better look.
"Oh...um." Joyce stuttered slightly. "Travis shoved me and I fell into the corner of the coffee table." She whispered, dropping her eyes back to the floor.
Brad set the camera down on the table and reached into his briefcase to pull out the paper he'd been writing on. "Sorry, I thought we were finished with this as well."
"Can you hold out your arm?" He asked, picking the camera back up to take a quick picture of an obvious cigarette burn.
"Now your right side." Turning once more, she complied and stood still as Brad circled around her body and took two more photos.
Just as Brad was asking to see Joyce's lip, Greg spoke and interrupted him. "What about that scar on your hip Joyce?" He asked, pointing toward a thin pink scar peeking out from under the waist of her jeans.
Joyce turned her head, looking down at the forgotten scar and her lip twitched into a small smile, the first one Greg had seen all afternoon. "I was jumping a fence to get away from Jim who was trying to tickle me and slipped." She said, not missing the eye roll Greg gave before smiling himself.
"We won't worry about that one then." Brad said with a light chuckle." And as much as I hate to ruin the moment, I do have to ask about the scar on your lip."
"My tooth sliced it open when Travis grabbed my chin one time while he was yelling. He rarely ever hit me in the face, afraid to leave a mark, but he wasn't usually gentle when it came to touching me either...obviously." She said, wiping her suddenly sweaty palms over her thighs.
Brad quickly wrote something down, then positioned himself directly in front of her. "This is all we have left, then we can call it a day alright?"
Joyce gave a nod and slid her fingers into her mouth, pulling on her lip to expose the small scar that was slightly to the left near her teeth. As soon as Brad snapped the shots and set the camera on the table, Joyce didn't hesitate to grab her flannel, sliding her arms into the sleeves. She turned her back to the men as she fixed the buttons and allowed herself a moment to focus on how she was currently feeling. She couldn't remember a day where she'd experienced so many emotions at once and was having a difficult time trying to find a proper balance inside her head.
After putting her coat on, Joyce flexed her fingers, hoping to ease some of the tension she was still feeling and met Greg's eyes to see if they were finished.
"Joyce?" Brad called, gathering her attention from where he stood across the table holding his briefcase. "I want to thank you for being so cooperative today. You're a very brave young woman and I'm sorry I had to make you relive the past eleven years all over again. Just know that i'm going to do everything I can to make sure Travis goes away for a long time." He paused for a second, handing a piece of paper to Greg. "Your hearing is set for January twenty seventh and we'll meet again briefly on the twenty fifth to make sure everything is in order. The only time you'll hear from me before then is when I get the papers back from Linda's lawyer and we'll take things from there." Brad reached out to shake both of their hands. "I hope the two of you can try to enjoy the rest of your day." And with that, Brad was out the door, leaving Joyce and Greg standing in silence.
"Ready?" Greg asked, holding the door open for her.
Instead of leaving the room like Greg expected, Joyce turned and wrapped her arms around his middle, resting the side of her head against the front of his uniform. "Thank you." She whispered.
"Darlin' there's nothing at all you need to thank me for." When the initial shock of her gesture wore off, Greg let go of the door and carefully wrapped his arms around her much smaller frame.
Joyce sucked in a breath and lifted her head to see his face, not willing to release her hold just yet. Much like when she stood with Hopper, the top of her head barely reached the height of his shoulders. "I could have died if it weren't for your family...this...none of this would have been possible without you." She blinked, trying once again to not cry. "I'll never be able to repay you for everything you've done…I never thought I would deserve the kindness you, Mary, and Jim have given me."
Greg frowned, really hoping the tears he could see shining in her eyes didn't fall, because he wasn't sure his heart could take it. "Honey, that's what family does, we protect each other. I'm just sorry I didn't step in soon enough."
Joyce shut her eyes and dropped her forehead against his chest. The days events finally taking their toll. "That's the thing dad, you stepped in when I needed you the most and I can't tell you how grateful I am." She whispered.
Greg felt a warm feeling rise in his chest at that one simple word. Dad. She had called him dad and it brought him a sense of pride. She finally felt comfortable enough with him to call him something besides his name, and of course she had been right. If they hadn't of taken her in, if Jim hadn't fallen head over heels for her, she probably wouldn't be here today. The thought made him pull her closer.
When Joyce lifted her head again and Greg was met with her exhausted expression, he loosened his hold and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Come on darlin', let's get home. I'm sure Mary and Jim are both worried."
At the mention of Jim's name, Joyce pulled away from Greg and exited the room. As much as she found comfort in his presence, Hopper was ultimately the only one who could make her feel better after the stressful day she'd had.
Chatter from the main part of the station echoed off the walls of the hallway, reminding Joyce that Greg would more than likely be stuck here most of the night. "Do you want me to call and see if Jim will come pick me up so you can go back to work?" She asked, turning to face him as she slowed her pace.
Greg shook his head and placed a hand on her back to keep her moving. "They'll be alright without me for another thirty minutes."
"You sure about that Chief? I mean, your fellow pigs just have me sitting in the hall here when they know my princess is only a few feet away."
Rounding the corner, the hair on the back of Joyce's neck immediately stood at attention as she came face to face with Travis. When Greg felt her stiffen under his hand, he quickly stepped around her to place himself between her and the piece of shit that was currently sitting on a bench in front of them.
"The hell you doing out here Horowitz?" Greg demanded, looking down the hall for another officer, wondering why in the hell he'd been left unattended.
"I could ask you the same thing Chief. I don't like the way you're getting all handsy with what's mine either." Travis spat, trying to look around the much larger man.
"She's a person Travis, not a piece of property." Greg snapped, doing his best to keep Joyce out of sight with his body. He didn't miss feeling the small hand that was suddenly gripping the back of his shirt.
"She's whatever the fuck I say she is, isn't that right princess?" He questioned, stretching his legs out in front of him. That's when Joyce noticed the chains connecting his cuffed hands to the cuffs on his ankles.
"Dad, can we please just go?" Joyce begged, trying her best to get Greg to move.
"The fuck you just call him?!" Travis roared, quickly standing to his feet. Before she knew what was happening, Greg shoved Travis back down onto the bench, his hand going for his pistol.
"You even breathe wrong Horowitz and it's game over, you got me?" Greg hissed, not giving a damn who heard him.
Joyce took a step back and pressed herself against the wall, her breathing coming in short pants as she gripped the collar of her coat. She had spent the last few hours going over the most horrific moments of her life and had kept her anxiety at a manageable level, but just the sight of Travis had her feeling like she was back in that trailer suffocating.
"Joyce, I need you to go get Mark, he should be in the front with Flo. Can you do that for me?" Greg called over his shoulder, his eyes never leaving Travis.
Joyce stood stock still as she tried to control the shaking in her hands, desperately needing something to pick at other than her collar.
"Go on darlin', I-"
"You calling my girl darlin' now Hopper? I should kick your fuc-" The sound of flesh hitting flesh propelled Joyce forward and down the hallway. She wouldn't be able to handle it if something happened to Greg because she couldn't accomplish the simple request. Finally getting to the front of the station, her eyes landed on Mark sitting at his desk, another man in front of him with an open briefcase between them.
"All I'm saying is, Mr. Horowitz is innocent until proven guilty and I for one-" Mark held his hand up, stopping the man in front of him from talking.
"Joyce, is everything okay?" He questioned, rising to his feet when he noticed the state she was in.
"Travis…Greg…Hallway." She cried out between shallow breaths. Both of them took off running down the hallway within seconds. Joyce plucked a paper clip from Mark's desk, giving her something to fiddle with to keep her focused on anything other than what was happening and quickly followed the two men, needing to make sure Greg was okay.
"Chief, what's going on?" Mark's voice rang out down the hallway at the sight of his boss towering over a bleeding Travis.
"Horowitz tried to make a move on Joyce, I got him to sit down and when he jumped up again I hit him." Greg admits, stepping back once Mark and the other gentlemen were in front of Travis.
"She's mine Greg, mine! If I catch you touching her again I'll kill you and your whole fucking family, you hear me?! I have eyes on her and that sorry excuse of a man you call a son! I won't be in there long and you better be fucking ready when I get out! You're fucking dead!" Travis screamed, trying his best to free himself from Mark's grip, as well as his restraints.
Joyce had her back against the wall again, needing something supportive behind her so she didn't pass out when black dots began to fleck in front of her vision. She needed to get out of there, needed to get away from Travis and the screaming. Turning to run down the hallway, she didn't miss Travis' words echoing behind her.
"Run all you want princess, you haven't seen the last of me!"
Joyce didn't care that she was making a scene when she shoved passed a crowd of people and made her way out of the station. The only thing running through her mind was finding safety, and safety to her in that moment was Greg's blazer. Once she reached the vehicle she quickly climbed inside, locked the doors and crawled into the floorboard, making herself as small as possible. A minute later, the driver side door opened and Joyce dropped her forehead to her knees, placing her arms over her the back of her head protectively.
"It's just me darlin'. I'm not gonna hurt you." Greg said calmly as he positioned himself in the driver's seat and shut the door. The sound of her short intakes of breath had him reaching for his radio as he pulled out of the parking lot.
"Mary? Jim?" Greg called through the channel linked to his radio back at the farm.
Less than a minute later, Mary's voice rang out through the light static. "Greg? Is everything alright? Over."
"I need you to tell Jim to meet me outside when we get home, I'll be there in five minutes. Over." Hanging the receiver back on the hook, Greg glanced down at Joyce who hadn't moved since they left the station. Her breathing had become more erratic and he could see her visibly shaking as she pushed through her panic attack. He knew Jim had a better chance of getting her to calm down than he did, which is why he was currently going well over the speed limit to make sure she didn't have to suffer longer than necessary.
"Joyce, we're almost home, I need you to breathe for me honey. Just focus on my voice. You're ok." Greg soothed, not risking touching her, afraid he'd make the situation worse.
Turning down the gravel driveway to the farm, Greg could see both Mary and Jim already standing on the porch awaiting their arrival. He barely had the blazer in park before his son was running toward him.
"What's going on? Where's Joyce?" Jim asked in a rush when he didn't see her in the passenger seat.
Greg reached out to grab Jim's shoulder and guided him around to the other side of the vehicle. "She's having a panic attack." He said, opening the door to reveal Joyce curled into a ball in the floorboard.
"Shit." Hopper whispered under his breath as his father stepped aside and he could finally see the state she was in. Her small body was shaking so hard he had to fight back the urge to pull her against him. "Joyce?" Keeping his voice low, he tried to get her to register he was there without having to touch her. When she didn't react, he called her name again and still got nothing. Knowing his next move was risky, he scooped her into his arms and out of the floor. The sudden movement caused her to flinch and he quickly placed her in the seat facing him with her legs dangling over the side where he was standing.
"Shhh it's alright sweetheart. It's just me." He soothed, bringing his hands up to cup her cheeks when he knew she wouldn't pull away. "Just breathe. You're back home, you're safe. Everythings okay."
Something about Hopper's eyes slowly drew Joyce out of the darkness she'd been trapped in and her arms subconsciously found their way around his waist. The smell of his flannel flooded her senses and she sighed, burying her face into his chest.
"What in the world happened Greg?" Mary questioned, looking up to see him still watching the kids.
"Travis is what happened. That son of a bitch." He couldn't wait until the bastard got sent away for good. Joyce deserved a life free of the nightmares he had created. Greg wasn't sure how often Joyce got like this, but just seeing her this bad was enough for him to hope it never happened again.
"He was there at the station and started running his mouth to Joyce." Greg bit out bitterly, bringing his hand up to rub over his eyes.
The movement caught Mary's attention and that's when she noticed his bloody knuckles. "You hit him?" She asked, reaching out to grab his wrist gently to inspect the damage.
The sound of the truck door closing made both adults look up to see Jim with his arms full of Joyce. Her head was laying on his shoulder completely exhausted.
"I'm fine darlin', nothing you need to worry about." Greg pulled his wife in for a quick kiss. "I have to get back to the station, you call me if anything happens, okay?"
Mary nods, pulling Greg in for one more quick kiss before going to open front door for her son.
Hopper miraculously kicked off his boots without putting Joyce down. "She just needs rest mom. I'm going to put her in bed."
"Stay with her Jim, the last thing she needs is to be alone right now." Mary insisted.
Hopper nods and begins the short climb up the steps, Joyce still bundled in his arms. He gently nudged his bedroom door open with his toes and laid her down on their bed, taking off her shoes as she slept. He knew her panic attacks took a lot out of her, but she always seemed so damn tired.
"Do you want to sleep in your jeans?" He spoke, placing his hand on her shoulder and slightly shaking her awake.
"No. Uncomfortable." She murmured, rolling onto her back to allow him to unfasten the button. His fingers brushed the skin under her navel, making her sigh once again as she fell back asleep. Eventually, he worked her jeans off, tossing them in the corner of his room before removing his own and joining her in bed where he pulled her back against his chest.
"It's okay honey, get some rest. No one is going to hurt you. Not while I'm around." They laid there for hours, Hopper methodically counting her breaths and Joyce safety sleeping in his arms.
