A/N: Sorry for the delay in updates - I returned to university this week so I've been busy settling back in! Thank you so much for the feedback so far on this story, all of the likes and comments have been very motivational! As always, I'm open to suggestions regarding where you want me to take this story, and comments are always appreciated. Enjoy!
"Why aren't you in bed?"
Joyce turned her head to find Hopper standing at the doorway to Will's bedroom, watching her as she sat in a chair beside Will's bed as he slept off his exhaustion.
Joyce sighed and stroked Will's hair gently. "I gave Jonathan my room so that Steve could sleep in his. I can't sleep, anyways. I can't bring myself to leave him."
Hopper walked over and knelt down in front of her. The bags under her eyes became much clearer now that he was face to face with her. "He's fine, Joyce. That thing's gone, you said so yourself."
"But what if it isn't, Hop?" Joyce argued, her eyes beginning to glisten with tears. "I mean, when we brought him out of that place last year, we assumed that he would be okay, but he wasn't. What if we're wrong again? What if he never gets over this?". She buried her face in her hands.
Hopper reached out and slowly prised Joyce's hands away from her face. He then took them in his own, trying to give her some sense of comfort. "I don't know if he will. None of us do. But what I do know is that he has you, and Jonathan, and I know those friends of his would do anything for him." He nodded towards Dustin, Lucas and Mike, who filled up the rest of the floor space around Will's bed as they slept. Hopper looked back at Joyce. "He's not alone in this, and neither are you."
Joyce nodded her head and tried to smile as the tears slipped down her cheeks. "Thank you," she whispered, squeezing his hands gently. She glanced at the clock beside her on Will's bedside table - it read 3:42am. "Shouldn't you be in bed too?" she asked Hopper with a slight hint of sarcasm.
Hopper rolled his eyes before answering. "Nah, I couldn't sleep either. I keep going in there to check on El, to make sure she's alright," he said, pointing his head towards the living room to where El, Nancy and Max were also fast asleep.
Joyce smiled. "How are you handling it?" she asked.
"What?" Hopper asked in confusion.
Joyce rolled her eyes. "C'mon Hop. El. You're looking after a teenage girl now - surely that can't be easy. At least, it doesn't sound like it is," she added, referring to Hopper's very public warning to El during their group meeting.
Hopper bowed his head and sighed. "Honestly, I don't have a clue what I'm doing, Joyce. Especially with this situation with the Wheeler kid-"
"Yeah, about that…" Joyce interrupted.
Hopper lifted his head and narrowed his eyes. "What?"
"I just think that you shouldn't be so hard on those two. El has been through a lot, and so has Mike, and they just… they deserve a little happiness, don't you think?"
"No, I don't think," Hopper said with irritation. "Not that kind of happiness, anyways. They're only thirteen."
Joyce's lips curved up slightly into a smile. "C'mon, you need to put yourself in their shoes. You remember what it's like to be young and in love, right?"
Hopper scoffed, but in actual fact, yes, he did remember. He also remembered what it's like to be middle-aged and in love with the same woman from all those years ago. The same woman who was currently sitting in front of him and poking fun at him. But of course, he didn't say that.
"I guess," he said reluctantly.
Joyce nodded with satisfaction. "Okay. So, you need to go easy on them. Stop giving them such a hard time, especially Mike."
Hopper sighed. "It's just… she's really fragile, and I don't want anything to happen to her. I don't want her to get hurt."
Joyce smiled sympathetically, rubbing Hopper's hands. "I know, and she won't. Mike cares about her a lot, I can tell. You just need to find a balance with them. But shutting him out of her life isn't going to help anything."
"I guess you're right," Hopper nodded, accepting the advice with an air of unwillingness. "So," he said, changing the conversation topic, "how are you holding up?"
Joyce looked up at him, her eyes weary and broken as a new wave of grief washed over her. "I've been better," she said, her voice breaking slightly.
Her eyes quickly filled with tears, and Hopper immediately regretted bringing up the subject. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything-"
"No, no, it's.. it's fine," Joyce reassured, breaking her hands away from his to wipe away her tears. She paused for a few moments. "I just keep wondering if I could've prevented it somehow, or… maybe I should've gone with him-"
"No," Hopper said firmly, putting his hands on her shoulders. "Joyce, you can't think like that. There was nothing any of us could've done to change his mind, alright? Bob… he was a fighter, he wanted to go alone. He wanted to help you and Will."
"It's just…" Joyce said, wiping her eyes, "I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive myself. He sacrificed himself for my family, for me. He didn't deserve it. And I…"
Joyce then broke down completely, giving in to the rolls of grief that continued to knock through her. Hopper immediately wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a hug, rubbing her back.
"It's alright, Joyce," he soothed, patting her hair as she sobbed into his shoulder. "Everything is going to be alright."
They stayed like that for several minutes, until Joyce's tears eventually subsided. She leaned out of Hopper's embrace and set her hands on his knees. "You should, uh… get some sleep."
Hopper stayed put in his chair. "Are you sure you don't want me to stay here?"
"I'm fine," Joyce insisted, putting on a brave face. "Really, Hop. Get some rest."
Hopper nodded. He got up from his chair and opened the bedroom door, but continued to linger. "If you need anything, I'll be in the kitchen, okay?"
Joyce nodded. "Really, I'll be fine. Goodnight, Hopper."
"Goodnight, Joyce," Hopper replied, before closing the door.
After double-checking that El was still asleep in the living room, he went into the kitchen and lit up a cigarette, sliding into the kitchen chair next to him. Once he'd finished smoking, he eventually closed his eyes and succumbed to sleep, but not before making a promise to himself:
Never let anything bad happen to Joyce Byers ever again.