Joyce

"You okay carrying that by yourself?" she asked Will.

"Yeah, definitely," her son replied. He straightened his back against the weight of the backpack in a show of strength. His mousy face peaked up, flashing a reassuring grin and he hooked his thumbs under the shoulder straps.

Joyce smiled in return, lugging her own pack with a second looped around her arm, making her gate lopsided and clumsy as they picked their way along the dirt trail. The forest was a serene escape – golden light rained down on them from the waning sun above; birds and crickets chirped merrily, reminding her of a Disney movie and the fresh air cleared her mind, which was quickly becoming a tattered mess. Despite it all, she was still biting back a knot of fear and worry that threatened to consume her.


Early that morning, before the sun had risen – before the sky had even begun to brighten in the pre-dawn – Jonathan appeared in her bedroom doorway, shouting incoherently. Joyce's first response was unfocused panic – something that was to be expected given the events months before. But she was slow and groggy in the dark hush of early morning and Jonathan's words were nonsense in her mind. By the time she'd sat up, kicked her feet over the edge of the bed and shoved the tangle of blankets off, he'd darted to Will's room. She blinked rapidly, willing her eyes to adjust to the dark and asked blearily, "What? Jonathan?"

Her fingers found the lamp switch finally and across the hall she heard Jonathan urgently saying, "Will, get up. Come on, get up. We have to go." The faint protests of her younger son were muffled by Jonathan's heavy footsteps and the scrape of a drawer opening. "Here, pack some clothes, okay?" Jonathan asked, softer now.

"Jonathan," Joyce called, shimmying into a pair of corduroys. "What is going on?" She bumped into him in the hallway and instinctively reached out to brace his shoulders, squaring him in front of her. The bedroom lamp was behind the door, but a sliver of light escaped through the gap along the doorjamb and in its dim wash she saw the fear in her son's eyes and felt the tremble in his shallow breaths. She squeezed his shoulders, her eyes darting back and forth, seeking out his in the shadows. "Tell me," she demanded. His fear shook her to her core and she prayed he couldn't hear her heart racing.

His lips moved silently, like he was working through his next words before actually speaking. With a deep exhale, his muscles tensed and he said simply, "We have to go. We have to leave now."

"Jonathan?" Will asked. Joyce turned and peeked down the hall where her younger son was leaning nervously against the wood veneer wall panels. "Where are we going?" he asked sleepily.

Jonathan looked at his brother painfully then turned back to Joyce and, barely moving his lips, whispered, "It's back."


"You know, I think this is wide enough that I could've driven the car all the way up," Joyce said cheerfully. She shot Will an exhausted look, and laughed, rolling her eyes.

"Yeah, it's pretty big," Will replied, kicking a rock off to the side of the path. It struck a cluster of acorns, bouncing them into a patch of leaves.

Joyce continued, "I mean, it's no two-lane highway, but Mom's little car could—Oh! Here we are!" The path took a sharp turn and opened up to a well-maintained clearing. A large, rolling stretch of mown grass was neatly enclosed by a wall of trees. In the center, a perfect pond with lily pads was surrounded by ten small cabins and a large pavilion.

Joyce dropped her bags. Next to her, Will did the same. "It's nicer than I remember," she said.


Jonathan had been vague – cryptic even. He obviously didn't want to upset Joyce or, more importantly, Will, who'd had to live through hell once before. So he wasn't issuing more than a few words here and there. From what Joyce could gather, Jonathan had been in the woods (God knew why) and had seen the monster.

"Are you sure? Maybe it was just someone walking around?" Joyce asked desperately.

"No," Jonathan said firmly, looking up. He had a school bag half-filled with clothes and first aid supplies he'd collected from the bathroom cupboard. "I didn't just see it," he continued. "It was—" He stopped, reconsidered his words and finished, staring at his mom pointedly, "I ran away from it. I ran away from it after I saw it climb out of thin air." Joyce stared at him helplessly. "It didn't have a face, Mom," he finished.

"The Demogorgon?" Will asked from the hallway. Joyce turned, eyeing each of her sons in turn. "It's back?" Will didn't sound surprised, but there was a tremor in his voice that made Joyce's heart ache.

Jonathan nodded reluctantly. "Pack clothes," he instructed, "Food, soap. The basics, you know?" Will's eyes were wide, but he turned without another word and the sounds of him stuffing supplies in his backpack carried down the hall. With his brother in the other room, Jonathan turned back to his mom. "Pack weapons, too."

Joyce clenched her fists at the memory of the wall distending in Will's room last year and the thought of the monster returning, peeling back the veil between their worlds to reclaim her son. She watched Jonathan reach under his bed and pull out a baseball bat that had been drilled with metal spikes. She opened her mouth to oppose the handmade Morningstar, but shook her head and asked, "Where are we going to go? Where are we safe from It?"


Cabin 4's solid-looking padlock opened without complaint. Joyce pocketed the key and pushed the door open. "Just call this the Hopper Hut," she declared.

Will groaned next to her. "Mom," he scolded. "That was lame."

She chuckled to herself and dragged their bags to one of the two bedrooms. Small though it was, the cabin was nice. It had a woodstove in the main room, a four-person table and oil lamps to keep them in the light.


"It's cabin number four," Hopper had told her, handing over the key. When she hesitated he added, "Just think of it like a vacation."

Joyce responded jokingly, "What's a vacation?"

Their smiles were brief. Time was short. But Joyce couldn't bring herself to get back in the car and drive away. She wrung her hands and stared at Jim and Jonathan, her eyes wide and imploring. Behind her, Will waited in the Pinto, rifling through his bag.

"How is this going to help?" Joyce asked.

Hopper lit a cigarette, took a long pull, then handed it to Joyce and lit a second for himself. Smoke curled around the little orange ember as he flicked his thumbnail across the filter absentmindedly. "Forty-two missing person reports in thirty-six hours, Joyce," he stated matter-of-factly. His eyebrows lowered angrily. "I am responsible for the people in this town. They deserve a chance."

Joyce took a drag on her cigarette and glared at him out of the corner of her eyes. "You are not responsible for this," she corrected. When he gave her an exasperated look, she followed up, "How? What can you do?" Before he had a chance to answer, she cut in, "The bastard couldn't be killed before. You can't fight it. Let the government handle this."

"Let me talk, Joyce," he said. "Okay? A little trust, remember?" She rolled her eyes and he continued, "I already called it in to the station. Powell and Callahan are going to issue an evacuation statement." Joyce scrunched her eyebrows in disbelief. The chief answered her silent question: "Radiation leak. Maybe not plausible, but who's going to risk sticking around, just in case? Anyway, local news reporters, radio stations, everything, it's going to be all over the media. The whole city has to evacuate by the end of the day."

Joyce actually smiled. "Hop, that's genius!"

The chief raised his eyebrows, but looked pleased nonetheless. Behind him, Jonathan cleared his throat audibly. Joyce's face fell. "Jonathan, come to River Valley with us."

He shifted uncomfortably. The park had been his idea. It was an hour out of Hawkins, somewhere they could regroup with friends and family and work on a plan. And it was well-known. Everyone had camped there, or gone on a field trip or been hiking. Some people, like Hopper, owned cabins at River Valley. The location was a perfect waypoint, but when Jonathan had pitched the idea that morning, as they rushed out of the house, he'd failed to mention that he wouldn't be joining them. At least not initially.

"I'll meet you there in a few hours, Mom," he said quietly.

The Pinto's passenger door swung open and Will stepped out. He glanced warily from the chief to his mom, then told Jonathan sternly, "Get Mike and Lucas and Dustin, okay? Promise you'll get the guys."

Jonathan flashed an encouraging, tight-lipped smile. "That's my plan," he confirmed.

"This is ridiculous!" Joyce yelled. She stomped her cigarette into the ground. "Just call—" She broke off remembering that they'd tried calling. When the calls actually went through, no one picked up. Behind them, traffic on the highway droned steadily past. "Just let me come with you," she pleaded.

Simultaneously, Jonathan and Hopper looked at Will. Joyce followed their gaze to her son, who'd narrowly survived this evil last year and who was finally regaining his health, after months of respiratory infections, and who was now looking desperately at his own feet, waiting for her decision.

Joyce shut her eyes and sighed heavily. "Three hours," she confirmed. She looked meaningfully at Jonathan. "Three hours and you'll be at the cabin."

Jonathan nodded, crossed in front of Hopper and wrapped his arms around her. Joyce squeezed her son. "Be safe, Jonathan. Please be safe."

"I will, Mom." His voice was muffled against her shoulder. When they separated, he adopted the same reassuring grin he'd given Will. "Just picking up a couple kids. How dangerous could that be?" Joyce gave a quick laugh, but remembered the studded bat that was sitting on the passenger seat of his car.

When Hopper leaned in and kissed Joyce on the cheek, the boys turned away automatically. She heard Will confide in Jonathan, "I left my Walkie-Talkie in my room. If you get it, the guys will answer." Jonathan was quiet. "If you can't go back for it, that's not a big deal either," Will added.

"I'll see you soon," Hopper assured Joyce.


Joyce was spreading blankets on the bed when she saw Will shutting the front door. "No, leave that open!" she called out. Will turned to her questioningly. "I just want to be able to hear when your brother and Hopper get here," she explained. He nodded and swung the door wide. When he turned away, she looked at her watch again. Two hours down.


A/N: I hope this chapter was easy to follow. Obviously I had to do some backpedaling to fill in some of the blanks after Jonathan went missing and all hell broke loose. Thank you for the follows, faves and feedback as always! I hope you like it!