CXXXIII

She has a million questions mercilessly stinging her mind.

He was alive? How? Why now? What is he planning?

However, she doesn't have time to answer any of these questions. And although she doesn't know why Papa hasn't attacked her, she does know that he must be waiting for her.

"Thank you, baby," she says to Poe as she picks him up. "Let's go for a walk, you and I, okay?"

"Oh, come on," Jim grumbles as he opens the fridge. "Just one little can…"

Instinctively, Joyce pushes the refrigerator door with one hand, closing it.

"Hey, you almost caught my hand in—!"

"You have work tomorrow!" she protests, used to her husband's complaints. "It may seem like a good idea now, but you'll regret it in the morning. And you know it."

Just then, the doorbell rings twice, a clear sign of urgency.

"What the hell?" the man mutters. "Who could it be on a Sunday night?"

They both head to the door, but, given the hour—around eight in the evening—Joyce lets him be the one to open it.

On the other side, a breathless Jane is holding her cat in her arms.

"Hi. I need help," she blurts out, not even giving them time to take in the scene before them.

"What's going on, honey?" Joyce asks, already moving toward her, but the young woman stops her by holding the cat out in front of her.

"I need you to take care of him for me."

Joyce carefully takes the cat into her arms. He doesn't seem thrilled to be there, but he doesn't act aggressively either. "But how did you get here…?" She then notices the bike leaned against the ground just behind her. "Ah, I see."

"Your cousin throw you out or something?" Jim growls, crossing his arms. "Tell me everything: a few words from me will fix him right up, huh."

She shakes her head immediately. "I don't have time to explain. I'll come back for him tomorrow. And if I don't…" She bites her lower lip and takes a deep breath, her shoulders tense. "I'll come back for him tomorrow."

And she turns away.

"Jane…" Joyce tries, as her husband grunts: "Hell, no."

And he holds her back by the shoulder. "You're going to explain what's going on, and then I'm going to drive you home."

Joyce is about to tell him to be a little gentler with a clearly upset young woman when Jane turns around and fixes her gaze on him.

"I don't have time for this," she replies solemnly. "Henry is in danger."

"What?" Joyce asks, confused. "How? Where—?"

However, Hopper's training and experience come into play immediately. "Joyce, you take care of the cat; I'll go with Jane."

Yeah, sure. "I refuse."

Jim looks at her as if she'd suddenly grown a second head or something equally strange. "Excuse me?"

"You're not going without me." And before he can protest, she raises her voice and calls out: "WILL! WILL, COME TAKE CARE OF THE CAT!"

"Joyce—" the officer insists.

"Mom…?" Will interrupts, coming out of his room. When he sees Jane there, he nods in acknowledgement. "Oh, hi, Jane."

"Will, Hopper and I have to go with Jane to… somewhere. Can you take care of…?"

"Poe," Jane completes.

"Poe," Joyce repeats.

"Uh… okay…?" Will murmurs, stepping closer. "Do I need to buy food for him or…?"

"There's no time," Jane warns them, clearly anxious. "Let's go. Now."

"There's money in the drawer of my nightstand if you need anything," Joyce tells him, kissing her son on the cheek as her husband puts on his jacket and grabs the car keys.

Joyce knows he keeps his gun in the patrol car's glove compartment.

…

"Where to?" Jim asks, starting the car.

The answer they get leaves them bewildered: "To Hawkins Lab."

Since she's sitting in the back seat, Joyce turns toward her. Surprised by the strangeness of her words, she's about to suggest they go to her house first—Henry must be there, right?—but the worried expression on the young woman's face compels her to stop.

She has no choice but to look her husband squarely in the eye and repeat: "To Hawkins Lab."