It was becoming late. The credit titles for an episode of Knight Rider began to show on tv. Jane yawned lazily as she shifted her weight onto the couch to face Hopper. She was a little irritated. Her father had been gone all day, and now he didn't even spend time with her watching tv.
"Can I take an eggo?" She asked, glimpsing towards the kitchen, wondering whether to leave the warmth of her blanket.
"Aha…" Hopper didn't look up as he spoke, too preoccupied with a map of Hawkins. The girl grinned and walked into the kitchen, wrapping the blanket around her shoulders. She was taken aback to see the cabinet emptier than usual. "Have you eaten the stuff in the cans?"
When she didn't get an answer, she shook her head and picked up a dish to make an eggo. Her gaze was drawn to the bottle of pills on the table. She could have sworn the bottle was full yesterday and was now nearly empty.
"It seems like it's going to snow," she grumbled as she sat across from him.
"Yep." Hopper sighed as he continued to work on his project.
"It's annoying. I wanted to go with my friends tomorrow to continue the Dungeons & Dragons campaign." She took a close look at the map that her father was studying. There were scribbles and painted crosses everywhere. He appeared to be looking for something. "Maybe I could spend the night at the Wheelers' even if it snows? Her mother says it's fine."
"Sure."
Jane cocked an eyebrow; that had been far too simple. "It might snow a lot. Maybe I'll spend a week there." She remarked cynically.
"Aha."
She sighed and rolled her eyes. He was clearly not paying attention to her. "With Mike." If there was one thing her father despised, it was her friend's name.
It worked. Hopper awoke from his trance. "Sorry, what did you say?" His face twisted in discomfort as he gingerly felt the region surrounding his shoulder. He'd been in the same posture for far too long, and getting up to look at her had taken its toll.
"Has the pain returned?" She asked, concerned.
Hopper rubbed his chin. "No, it's...nothing."
Jane shifted her gaze to the pill container, then back to him. They were both aware that it was a lie. Hopper coughed and attempted to shift the subject. "What are you doing with your blanket coiled up like a burrito?
"Hey! It's very cold!" She stood up for herself. "I warned you it was going to snow!"
Hopper's eyes were drawn to the stove. Only a smattering of hot ash remained. "Shit…"
Jane was correct; it was really chilly. When he entered the shed door, he was greeted by a lone log already put on the stump. Most likely from the day before, when he was too lazy to complete that task. He blamed himself for it, knowing it was going to hurt now. His shoulder had been bothering him ever since he slammed into the car's dashboard during the sudden braking. Anyway... a painful shoulder was preferable to tumbling from the old quarry.
He raised the ax and swung it at the log. The wood broke in two just as a bolt of anguish raced from his shoulder to his palm. "Damn it!" he cursed, suppressing a cry.
The agony became intolerable after the fourth stroke. "Fuck," Hopper murmured, noticing his palm shaking—and it wasn't from cold. He'd gathered as much firewood as he could with that much agony, but he was worried that it wouldn't be enough to last through the night.
A crack resounded near him. "What?!" Perhaps a wild animal had crept inside. "Oh, God, please... not another raccoon," he grumbled, inspecting the shed.
A blanket pile was heaped in a corner. It would have gone unnoticed if it hadn't shifted slightly and had an empty tin can next to it. That canned food looked like it came from his own pantry. Something or someone was underneath them. Hopper clutched the ax with both hands, refusing to give it a chance. "You'd best go out quickly and without any nonsense."
Trembling hands started to emerge. "All right, all right, I'm out." A woman's head came out from behind the blankets.
Hopper couldn't get over his surprise. "Joyce?" He snorted and sulked his way back to the stump to dump the tool.
She emerged from her hiding spot and approached him, keeping a safe distance. "Sorry!"
He unwillingly proceeded to gather up the firewood from the ground. "Why the heck did you flee?"
"I, I don't know. There were a lot of feds there, anything might go wrong, Murray could say something dumb, or you..." She paused, but the word 'betrayal' hung in the air. "I was afraid." She admitted it.
"Oh, yeah? So, why are you here?"
She sighed and shrugged her shoulders. "Well. You said no one would be looking for me in a police car. I believed they wouldn't seek for me in...a cop's house, either, since Hawkins is under surveillance." She lowered her head, ashamed.
In disbelief, he shook his head at her. He'd spent the entire day chasing for her, only to find out she'd been right next to him the whole time. "And what was your grand scheme? Ah?" He inquired cynically. "Take some food from the house and remain here till things... calm down...? Did you think I wouldn't notice? Why didn't you just...knock on the door?! You could have spared me a whole day's effort!"
She nervously rubbed the back of her neck. "I've been considering it all day. But after what happened, I don't think you want me around your daughter."
Hopper put the remainder of the firewood over his arms. "Wow, how thoughtful." He continued, dismissively. "So, according to you, it was better to stay five meters away while I spent the entire day looking for you! Yes, much, much better!"
She sighed and rolled her eyes. "And I knew you would be angry!"
He finally turned to face her. She was rubbing her arms, trying to warm herself, and looking around like a lost puppy. In the end, Hopper sighed, weary and unable to continue arguing. "You know, it really doesn't matter if you're right next to her or a few feet away. I'm going to leave the door open."
She was shocked. "No, it's OK. I'm going to stay here. It's best for everyone." She spoke it with trepidation.
Hopper approached her. "Hey, Joyce. I'm tired, fed up, drained, and," He took a breather. "I'm not going to waste my time with this nonsense." He continued. "It's your problem if you choose to stay here, freezing your ass off!" He yelled at her, far harsher than he intended. The agony was killing him. "Do what you want."
Joyce observed a noticeable trembling in his palm and assumed the wood was too heavy. She wanted to offer him help, but he turned around and returned to the house, dismissing the situation. She sighed, her gaze falling to the pile of blankets in the corner. The night was going to be quite long.
Jane returned to the living room to see her father after the house had warmed up again.
"Better?" Hopper asked, taking a cup from the kitchen.
She nodded. "Are you going to brew some coffee? It's too late." She looked for the pill container, but it has vanished.
"Yes, kid. I'm afraid I won't be able to sleep well tonight. I have some...work stuff to finish." He flatly lied.
"Are you ok?"
"Sure. What about you? Have you brushed your teeth?"
"Yes, but..."
"What about the homework? You have a physics exam with Professor Clarke on Thursday, right? You almost failed the last time. You should begin studying right now."
The girl rolled her eyes. He had clearly become defensive and was refusing to speak to her.
"Dad... I..." A knock came at the door. "Who will it be? It's late." Jane asked, surprised.
"I don't know. Maybe some airhead who has been thinking for twenty long tedious minutes about how cold it's outside." Hopper said dramatically as he opened the door. "Oh wow, look who it is…"
"Joyce!" The girl exclaimed happily. "What are you doing here?"
"Yeah..." Hopper added sardonically. "What are you doing here?"
The woman feigned a timid grin while glaring daggers at Hopper. "I, erm… I was wrapping up some shopping when... My car broke down. I knew you lived close, so... well, here I am."
"Oh, wow," Hopper said, playfully. "How detailed."
"It's starting to snow again." Jane remarked. "You will have to wait till tomorrow until someone can check your car. You should stay the night with us." She looked at his father, oblivious to the adults' looks.
Hopper let out a breath. "Yes, I guess so."
"Great!" exclaimed the girl. "We can even watch a movie together! I believe there is still some popcorn left..." She went on enthusiastically.
"No!" he cried in surprise. "Besides, Joyce will be tired."
The woman couldn't help but giggle, and he glared at her. "No, honey. Maybe another day, yeah, I'm... tired of... shopping, yes, that's it, and perhaps it's better if I just sleep."
With relief, he nodded. "Yeah... and you have an exam to study for."
"But… "
"No. There are no buts. To your room."
Joyce watched as the girl grumbled to her room before approaching Hopper. "Thanks."
"Don't thank me. I do it because I don't want to have to explain why I found a fugitive's frozen corpse in my shed. Nothing else."
She grinned, knowing he was being deliberately harsh. "But nevertheless. Thanks."
He eventually surrendered since her tone was so genuine. "You'll be sleeping in the other room. We'll come up with something tomorrow."
Joyce looked around, perplexed. "How about you?" Her attention was pulled to the couch. "No way. I sleep on the couch. It's fair. It's your home."
"My house. My rules."
"When did you become such a gentleman? It's not for you! You're also not going to sleep on the couch!"
Overwhelmed, he raised his hand. "Joyce, no one is going to sleep on the couch. I have stuff to do, and it will most likely take me all night."
He hadn't persuaded her, she narrowed her eyes. "Seriously? You're now staying awake all night because you don't trust me? Of course, being in the living room is better, isn't it? Being able to keep an eye on the entire home. Hey! You were the one who let me into your home."
He softened his voice. "Joyce, you have two choices: sleep in my room or sleep in the shed. You can also flee; you're good at it."
"But..."
"No. No buts. Don't make me send you to your room as I did with my daughter." He massaged his eyes, overcome. "I'm serious, Joyce. I don't have the energy to continue arguing today. Just... don't make things any worse for me."
Joyce paused, taken aback by his dejection. She took a close look at him and noticed he was unwell, his exhaustion seemed genuine, so she didn't want to push him anymore. "Ok. Ok. Your house, your rules."
Joyce had been awake for an hour. Her mind was racing with worries. She had no idea how she was going to get out of this mess. She attempted to think of a solution, but her mind kept returning to Hopper. They'd gone through too many extremes in the last three days, and yet she was under his roof. No, it was worse. She'd climbed onto his bed! Even the sheets had his scent on them!
"Oh, Joyce, what are you doing?" She was horrified.
A few light slaps shook her out of her thoughts. She went to the window, surprised, and nearly died when she spotted Jane on the other side of the glass.
Joyce, who was still startled, opened the window to let her in. "What happened?"
"Shss..." the girl muttered, her gaze fixed on the closed bedroom door.
"I don't want my father to find out," she said quietly.
The woman lifted an eyebrow in astonishment. "Why?" she asked, terrified. She had no idea if Hopper had told the girl the truth about who she was.
Jane sat up in bed. "Today is a difficult day for my father. I've heard him yell at you before."
Joyce bit her lower lip. "Oh, honey, don't worry. Adults occasionally fight, but nothing occurs. And besides, it was my fault." The last thing she needed was to annoy Hopper by causing a conflict between father and daughter because of her!
Jane shrugged. "No. It's that I don't want you, or uncle Murray, to be upset with us. Apart from my father, this is the first time I have a family."
Uncle Murray. Joyce sighed and paused. Hopper had clearly not told the girl anything about them. She hadn't had the courage to tell her the truth since she was so enthusiastic about having a family. "Of course, I'm not upset. Adults frequently argue. Everybody has bad days."
Jane raised her head, alarmed. "Seriously? Very bad? You too?"
Joyce became concerned when she noticed the girl in distress; it was obvious that something was wrong. She sat next to her. "Jane, what's going on?"
The girl folded her hands in silence, her head down.
"Honey. You can talk to me. I'm not telling anyone, not even your father." Joyce was worried. Maybe trying to trust Hopper wasn't such a great idea.
"He's back on those pills." Jane began to drop her voice even further. "He only takes them when the pain returns. Much though he lies to me, I know it hurts, and it aches even more at night. Nothing has ever happened before, but the last time... I was scared."
Joyce became very concerned. "Why?"
"Because he had gone three days without sleeping and then dropped unconscious. I didn't know what to do, so I phoned the station, and they helped us, but it was scary."
Joyce felt compassion for the girl. She couldn't believe what she was hearing; despite her youth, she had already gone through so much. She had lost her mother and was now worried about her father. "Come here," Joyce replied, enveloping the girl in an embrace. "Hey, I need to know more."
Jane stepped back to gaze at her with hope. "Can you help us?"
"I'm not sure. But I'll give it a go."
Jane had crawled out the window once more, this time, to return to her room. It was both ludicrous and heartbreaking. Joyce carefully opened the bedroom door. The light in the living room was still turned on. It didn't take her long to see Hopper seated on the couch. His elbows were glued to his knees, and his head was bowed.
Uncertain, she took a step back. She'd been fleeing from him all day, first by getting out of the car, then by not daring to ask for his help, then debating whether she should go into the house, and now... Oh, God. It was ridiculous! No matter how far she ran away from him, she always returned in the end. It was time to quit fleeing and try to be useful, so she braced herself and walked to him. She was prepared to face the consequences of her actions, whatever they were.
To be continued.