Summary: If anyone was to blame, it was her, because in the end it had all come down to her turning the keys.
A/N: Been rewatching Stranger Things lately.
Because of me
A blanket was wrapped tightly over her shivering form, she was cold, her breathing shallow. Her eyes were puffed and red as she tried not to burst in tears once again. The last thing she needed was for her to sink into more pain than she already had.
Joyce Byers was in deplorable state. She held a hot cup of tea in her hands, the heat of the smoke coming out of it rising up to her face, warming her. The drink was supposed to comfort her, but all it did was bring memories to her mind, memories that made her fall deeper down the rabbit hole.
The sound of loud raining outside her window was all left to remind her of the present day, her thoughts had overwhelmed her, the feeling of guilt, grief, and most of all sadness was all she felt.
Joyce was sitting on the edge of her bed, staring unfocused at the drawer sitting opposite to it. There was a strange feeling of … lack, like something was missing there. She knew what was, she had tried not to acknowledge the fact but it was true. And as much as it pained her, there was no way things could go back to the way they were before.
Indeed, so many things were missing in her life right now, so many that she didn't even know how many. But things had gone by so fast, and now she was missing one more.
Hopper, Hopper was what was missing. She remembered how he had sat against the drawer as she grieved the death of her former lover, Bob. How he had waited silently for her to feel better, at least enough to fall asleep. But now, he was the one she grieved for. She was the one silently waiting for any sign of comfort, in anything, any thought.
Even though technically everything that had happened had been the fault of the Russians, Starcourt Mall, Hawkins Lab, Grigori… Something inside her made her feel as if it was hers.
She had turned the keys, she had been the one to make that machine explode, killing Hopper alongside it. So if anyone was to blame, it was her, because in the end it had all come down to her turning the keys.
Joyce would never forgive herself.