After the collapsing sound of El's backpack hitting the floor, the room had gone so silent that they could've heard a pin drop. Joyce stood, her body language screaming of apprehensiveness as she watched her daughter's eyes sparkle. 

"Oh my god," the teenager breathed, all three of their hearts hammering away beneath their ribcages. Neither of them knew what to say, or if there even was anything to say. Joyce's eyes darted from El to Hopper, seeing his own jaw drop at the image in front of him. She had grown at least four inches taller, her brunette hair nearly reaching her elbows in length. She only looked like a ghost of the girl he had left behind. 

She was just a kid back then. A kid who just kept losing everything she ever knew. 

Was this another loss? The life she had come to know and love in Illinois with Joyce as her mother and with her brothers? Would he just be one big disruption? 

El stood frozen, a shard of glass sparkling in the air for a split second of time. But the broken pieces of glass always fell to the ground eventually, and time would continue moving. Except for this moment. This moment, all that the three of them could do was allow time to wash over them, to pass and go in forms of seconds to minutes and maybe even minutes to hours. But the glass would fall, the other shoe would drop, and reality would need to come back. 

"Hey, kid," he muttered, fighting his fear of eye contact to reassure her that he wasn't a mirage. At any moment, he could slip away again. He had once before, what's to keep it from happening again? The moment so precious, all they wanted to do was guard it. Keep from moving, protecting that sliver of time so he wouldn't fall through the cracks again. Because if anything moved or even breathed the wrong way, it could all just go back to the way it was before. 

El was the first to break through the fear of disrupting what time had provided them with. Better it be her, she always was fiercely brave. Her first steps forward were cautious, her jaw still hanging in disbelief at the sight in front of her. 

"Dad?" the word rung out with an intense shock and passion behind it. Hopper's breath hitched in his throat. She had never called him that before, and for the longest time, he never thought he'd hear that again. A name with such a purpose behind it. A title awarded to only the worthy, although he felt worthy of absolutely nothing anymore. 

Within a second, she threw herself into his arms. Although the impact startled him, he couldn't help but wrap her tightly up in his grip and hold onto her for dear life. His eyes closed as his nose buried into the top of her head, relishing the feeling of a hug he never thought he'd receive again. As he felt her tears begin to dampen his shirt he took in a sharp inhale, fighting off tears of his own. 

He wasn't sure what Joyce had told the kids about her journey to bringing him back to safety. If he still knew anything about Joyce, he would know that she'd likely keep her plans to herself. She wouldn't want to get their hopes up just to leave them grieving once again. Everything had been so touch and go. God only knows what would've happened if she had traveled the 4,840 miles just to find that he had become a lifeless corpse. 

They would've died inside; more so than they had the first time. 

El pulled away with reddened eyes, taking in another glimpse at him. He could see the fight in her eyes; forcing herself to trust that he was not just another dream that would turn to dust. 

She had seen that too many times. Too many nights where she had nearly flown out of bed as the images of her sleep haunted her. So many nights woken up by her own screaming, replaying the image of her father's death that her mind had concocted. She hadn't watched him die, but her dreams had no issue with portraying every possible circumstance of his death. Sometimes, she wondered if that was worse than actually watching him die; to have to pick one of a thousand ways instead of remembering in the absolute certainty of what had happened that night. 

Yet, there he was. The risen dead. He had never died in the first place. Each miserably constructed scenario all just a farce. 

In the moment, Hopper wondered just how much he had truly missed out on. He wondered if she still struggled with her speech or if Joyce had helped her overcome it. He wondered if she was still going steady with Mike or if she had moved on. He had lost out on everything that was supposed to be his second chance as a father. He didn't teach her how to drive or help her study for exams. He didn't get to witness every phase she had gone through that would make her who she was meant to become. 

Cruelty was the universe's specialty. A joke, every moment he had believed he had a second chance at fatherhood had been a big fat joke. Just like Sara, he had missed out on El's life too. 

"I never stopped looking for you," she whispered through the tears that trailed down her cheeks. disappointment and despair took over her expression, her eyes shifting down to the floor.  "My batteries... they never recharged. But I still looked for you, every single night. I did everything I could to try for—"

"1187 days," he interrupted, gulping down the lump in his throat that had formed as soon as he had remembered how many days he had counted since July 4th, 1985. One thousand, one hundred and eighty-seven days locked in a cell. He had counted, knowing that on the other side of the world, his kid was counting too... that was if she hadn't given up. 

"Did you see me?" she asked, her eyes widening with shock and what he could remember as a look of hope. What he couldn't see was that she was praying. Praying that somehow, her powers had worked in a way she didn't realize. That she had somehow broken through the barrier and had unknowingly shown herself. 

He tried not to give a response that would break her into smaller pieces than she already was broken. "No, kid..." he looked down, brushing away a strand of caramel-colored hair from her face. "But I felt it. I felt you as you searched for me." 

It wasn't a total lie. Of course, he had yet to have pinpointed an exact moment where he knew without a shadow of a doubt that she was searching the void for him. But, there had been moments that left him curious. Moments filled with gut-instincts that she was thinking of him. He wanted to believe it was true, and not just to believe it was some higher power breaking through the invisible walls of time and space to let him know that she was looking.  

He knew in his heart that if she had any inkling that he was alive, she would've depleted herself of every ounce of energy in the search for him. Tissues would've become towels soaked with the crimson dribble beneath her nose. He had seen it with Mike, and although it felt like he was simply flattering himself, he knew it would be the same with himself. 

El was as loyal as could be. It was both her best and her worst trait. So loving that she'd go to the ends of the Earth for you. So loyal that she couldn't tell when to walk away from someone. She would've looked for him until the day she died. 

From the other side of the room, Joyce silently watched their interaction. She hadn't told the kids much about the operation of setting Hopper free. That he had been right about. But over time, they picked up the pieces and begun to understand the details that she held back. The entire week prior to when Joyce had been scheduled to fly out, she could sense the overwhelming anxiety that had plagued her daughter. The fear in her eyes that her mother would come back empty-handed, broken just as much as the day she thought he died. 

She'd never forget El's face as the lights over the mall became enmeshed with the light from the moon and beamed off of the rain that fell with her tears. The hopelessness and helplessness that she had seen. It was hard to believe that all of that pain could exist in such a small human. 

Just from the scene in front of her, she knew it would be painful to pull El away later to make sure she got to her tutoring lesson. She had seen it enough in her line of work. Reuniting and rebuilding came with the pain of also having to reestablish trust. Trust that he would be there when she got back. If she didn't start now, she never would. 

But aside from her worry, she allowed the moment to seep into her heart. To remember every detail right down to where each fleck of dust was located on the floor. Ever since Murray had convinced her that Hopper was alive, she had wondered what it would be like to reunite him with El. Would she back away in confusion? Would she detach from the situation? Would she cling to him and never let go? No matter how she spun the scenario, she would've never been able to dream up the amount of love that filled the room. 

Getting El to her tutoring lesson had been somewhat of a battle. It had taken pulling her aside to thoroughly explain that Hopper would be there when she got back. She had also forced herself to explain that Hopper would need time to readjust to everything, just like she and the kids had done when they had moved. El had reluctantly agreed with her and surrendered to leaving Hopper for a few hours. 

Then there had been the fact that she had papers she needed to pick up from the station. Her captain had offered her some time off, but there were still case files that she needed to look over and paperwork to finish. Thus beginning the worry of leaving Hopper home by himself. She wasn't actually sure what it was that she was so worried about. Despite what her anxiety told her, he wasn't a toddler. He was a grown man who wouldn't burn her house down while she was gone. Still, the thought of leaving him had come along with thoughts of what he would feel if he was alone. What if he panicked while she was away? What if the silence started to eat him alive and he was thrust into the effect of PTSD? 

She had offered to take him for a drive, to show him around their new home. She wasn't quite sure if he understood that they lived on the outskirts of a city, not just a town. Her house was only fifteen minutes or so away from the busiest streets in the area. It couldn't hurt having him become acquainted with the place, could it?

The car ride was all too quiet for her liking, yet she refused to turn on the radio. Hopper did the exact same thing he had done during their first ride home; stare out the window without a peep. She couldn't tell if he was taking in the scenery or trying to imagine that the roads they were driving on led him back to his old life. 

The trees soon turned into buildings as she drove further into the city. From the corner of her eye, she watched the change in his face as soon as he was met with several street lights and solid establishments. It was stirring something within him, that much was apparent. She quickly forced herself to turn her eyes back to the road while he remained lost in the new environment.

"Kinda reminds me of New York. Just smaller," he mumbled, his face barely inches away from the cold glass of the passenger window. With a deep breath puffing out his chest, he readjusted himself so he was facing forward in his seat. "Just a little,"

Joyce fought back the small smile that tugged at her lips. She was glad that those memories still managed to resurface after all this time. That his old life was still alive in him, somewhere. It gave her a little more confidence knowing that his new home was able to remind him of his old home, to bring him some familiarity as comfort. 

Finally, she saw the building that she recognized as her home away from home. She pulled into the tall precinct building's parking lot, flashing her badge at the guard who was managing the security gates. She always found it kind of funny that even when she was driving a squad car, they still asked for badges. Each time, she just rolled her eyes and smiled. 

Her regular parking space was just as empty as the last time she had left it. As soon as she shifted the car into its parked position, she took a moment to assess the situation. She could leave him in the car and worry about him for the ten minutes it would take to get to the 10th floor, grab her work, and get back. Or, she could take him in and show him around whilst worrying it would do him damage by being reminded of his old job. 

"Why don't you come in with me. I'll show you around." her hand moved to his shoulder before she could stop herself and alarm bells immediately went off. She meant to keep her hands to herself, do anything she could not to startle him. But she was surprised when she instantly felt his bicep relax against her touch. The tense and tightness of the muscle just fell right from her fingertips. 

He followed her out of the car, cautiously walking behind her as she made her way to the elevator. She wasn't dressed in her full uniform, but she clipped her badge to her waistband and secured her ID lanyard around her neck during the ride up. He was still so quiet, gently looking around and inspecting the panels on the wall while the numbers rose from the ground floor to floor #10. 

She thought about filling the awkward silence with some sort of talkative preparation for him, but he already knew what it was like to walk into a city precinct and how it differed from small-town Indiana police stations. She wanted to prep him for everything now that she had him back; not just the place she worked or the house she dwelled in. She wanted to protect him and reintroduce him to a life he already knew. 

The 'ding' of the elevator snapped her back and he followed behind her once again. She made her way through the hall and past the double doors that led into the bullpen. The entire room was bustling with energy, alive and well without her presence. She was met with the familiar smell of burnt coffee and typewriter ink. A scent that instantly brought a calm upon her, a reminder that she was safe and sound in a place where she belonged.

"Look who's finally back," she heard the familiar voice of her partner from across the room. The man stepped forward, nursing what was probably his fifth cup of coffee today. "Thought you had a few days left on leave? You comin' back to this dump just 'cause you missed me?" 

Joyce rolled her eyes and gave him a scoffing laugh. "Keep telling yourself that, Ackerman. You might actually believe it after a while." she stepped closer to him, unaware that Hopper was wandering off to look at the pictures hanging on the wall. "I came back to get some paperwork. Judge Walters is gonna have your ass in contempt if you don't get those 5's in on time. I figured that I'll have to do them myself since I'm not gunning for desk duty because my partner is in tombs. Your irresponsible ass can thank me later." she said, gathering a pile of paperwork and files from both of their adjoining desks. Danny Ackerman, her partner from day one, as soon as she had gotten her promotion. He was a nice guy, but he hadn't really paid close attention to the rules against fraternizing during his time in the academy. Half of his banter with her was flirt-based and usually ended with him trying to take her out for a drink. Sometimes, especially after a nasty case, she hesitantly agreed. Except it was usually only when she knew she needed to drink the images away and whatever booze she had at home wasn't strong enough to do the trick. 

"That's why you're my favorite, Byers." he gave her a Cheshire cat grin before spotting Hopper from behind her. His grin dropped and he leaned in closer to talk to her quietly. "Is that the one you were telling me about? El's dad? 'Guy looks like he hasn't seen the sunlight in a few years." he whispered, trying to snag a covert glance at Hopper without him noticing. She hadn't told Ackerman much about the situation, just a slightly varying story from what she had confided in her captain. Just that she was taking time to help a friend out of a problem he had gotten into. 

Joyce's eyes fell to the tile floors, her vision tracing along the grout between each tile. "Yeah, that's him," she admitted softly, her eyes rising back up to watch as Hopper glanced around the room. He was scanning over the banker's boxes filled with evidence and files, a life he remembered so clearly. A life he was in charge of. God, it hurt to even look at him. 

"He a junkie or somethin'?" Ackerman asked, earning a vicious glare from Joyce in return. He wasn't exactly the best at keeping his volume down, and from the slight flinch she saw, she knew Hopper had heard him. 

"No," she snarled. "Now shut the hell up and get me a box for this stuff if you still want me to carry your weight," she said, motioning at the papers in her hand. 

"Fine, but I was just about to call you anyway. Cap Lasky wants to talk to you," he whispered, nodding his head towards the office door on the other side of the room. In the doorway, she saw the familiar face of her Captain watching her. 

"Byers, got a second?" he asked. Joyce held up her finger before rushing over to Hopper's side.

"Hey, Hop," she grabbed his attention, quietly pulling him aside and reuniting her palm with the material that covered his arm. "I'll be right back, my Captain wants to talk to me. Is that okay?" 

He nodded, aimlessly looking at the area surrounding her as he made sure not to meet her eyes. "Yeah, I'll be right here," he whispered, turning around to look at her desk. As she walked away,  he picked up another photo of her and the kids that sat on her desk. The frame was covered in dust, showing him that it hadn't moved in quite a while. She was steady. Grounded, even. So much so that a photo of their family hadn't moved in ages. 

Joyce shut the Captain's office door behind her, anxiously taking a seat across from him. The official story that she had given him was that Hopper had been on duty when he had become wrongfully imprisoned. Although it wasn't far off from the truth, she had kept the details to herself. Each time she told the lie, visions of the tragedies at Starcourt crossed her mind. The excruciatingly painful smile he had given her as a token of his farewell. The last smile he had ever expected himself to give. 

Captain Lasky knew there was more to the story than she was letting on, but he didn't ask many questions. That was part of the reason why she trusted him almost as much as she once trusted Hopper. She could talk to him about any problem, leave out any confidential detail, and he would stay respectful about it while also helping her solve the issue. The man had become both a mentor and a father figure to her, helping her transition into her new career. He was a rare type of man, he gave her the same respect he gave to his male officers. He gave her leniency with her kids and schedule. In return, she was one of the best damn cops under his command. 

"I'm glad to see you're safe and sound. Welcome back — for now, at least. I'm still pretty certain you need some more time off." he gave her a solemn look, leaning back in his chair as he folded his hands in his lap. 

"Cap, two weeks is a lot of time to take off. I've already been gone for a week and I feel guilty. I'm not too sure if I can stand another week away... let alone afford to use up my sick days." she protested, just as she always did. She spent so much time trying to prove that she could handle the job, she couldn't properly deal with it when she had been given a break. 

"Joyce," the older man sighed. Using her first name was usually a sign that he was talking more as a supportive figure, and not so much as her boss. "Right now, you need to focus on your family. From what you've told me, Jim is like family to you. You've both been through hell, you gotta stop worrying about the rest of us and worry about getting your family back on track, alright? We'll all be here when you get back and everyone knows how hard you've been working. This time off isn't a punishment, it's something you're entitled to. Take a copy of your open case files home for a few days if you want, but I don't wanna see you back here until next week. Not until you've settled back in." 

"Is that an order?" she asked, sinking her shoulders back as her posture begun to fail her. 

"No. If it was, then I'd have to put a notation in your jacket. Consider it an act of care, okay?" he leaned forward, resting his arms against the hardwood of his desk. 

She nodded with defeat, knowing deep down that she should appreciate the support instead of fighting it. "Uh — Ackerman said you were about to call me when I came in. Is everything okay?"

He snorted softly as his lip quirked upward. "Yeah. I was gonna call and offer you some more time off but I have a feeling that the answer is already 'no'. I was also gonna call and make sure that you returned in one piece. As I said, I'm uh... I'm glad to see you safe and sound." 

She smiled as she let the warmth of his words bring her the comfort she was looking for. She knew what it was like to be a woman in the workforce, but she also knew how most men in her line of work were expected to always be tough and grim. Don Lasky wasn't one of those men. To her surprise, he had welcomed her to his team with open arms and a belief in her that many didn't have. It felt nice to have at least one person who wasn't gunning for her to fail. After her promotion, she had gotten the cold shoulder from quite a bit of the men whom she had beat to the punch. A few times she had even heard them mumbling along the lines of 'the only women here should be the victims.'  Of course, it had made her blood boil but she wasn't surprised. She was just thankful that she had a squad that took her under their wing. Her captain, her partner, the other detectives in the precinct; they all learned to love Joyce's presence... and it wasn't just because she brought in a dozen donuts at least once a week. 

After the events of July 4th, she had gone home feeling so incredibly alone. She'd always have her kids, but the one last person she had left to lean on was gone. She'd never have him back or gain that connection with anyone ever again. Even her family didn't feel like family anymore. It was the moment when she had walked into the precinct for the first time when she had finally felt that she was where she belonged. 

It had surprised her at first; that sudden feeling. Especially since the environment wasn't the usual type of place she'd enjoy. Joyce had always appreciated calm and quiet... until she realized how badly she needed the noise to drown out the thoughts in her head. The everyday hustle and bustle of life going about; it became a drug to her. She was never truly healed, just distracted. Case after case continued to fall on her desk and there was no time to stop and think about every painful little thing she had survived. Instead, she had victims who relied on her to survive. 

Her squad was pleasantly surprised to see how she had easily become one of their most valued officers. She knew how to speak to children and get them to open up. She knew how to talk to a survivor by speaking to them the same way she had wished someone could've spoken to her during her journey. Still, she managed to be tough as nails at the same time. She took no shit, not even from the lousiest criminals that ended up on the wrong side of her interrogation table. To be quite frank, she grew the balls that nobody thought she ever could. Nobody in the room could ever guess that once upon a time, Joyce Byers was a frail mother who allowed her anxiety to conquer her. That didn't diminish the pain she had survived, not even a little. Instead, it proved a point; to others, and more importantly, to herself. She became the living embodiment of the word 'change'. 

She looked around and she saw a second family. Out of the blue, where she had least expected it, she had another family. They all took care of each other, watching the other's six at all times. It was a loyalty that dwelled in the guise of invisibility. They didn't need wedding rings or birth certificates to prove their undying trust and allegiance. It was just part of the atmosphere. Just like that, blue had become the most important color. The color that painted their family tree of fidelity and love. Brothers and sisters, standing arm in arm to not just protect their city, but each other. 

It was all she had ever wanted.

 Her hand leaned against the sturdy frame of the office door. Her eyes had averted to the floor before she could stop them. She was trying to fix that; the inability to keep eye contact with people. It stemmed from her fear of them seeing right through her, seeing every broken crack and crumble of who she was. But her family didn't mind. They were all broken in some way or another. That was what she kept reminding herself of — which gave her the confidence to feel safe whilst looking into someone's eyes. She lifted her vision back up from the floor and smiled back at her Captain again. 

"Thank you..." she stopped, relishing in the warmth that would only last a few moments longer. "For everything,"

He tried to hide his smile back to her with a subtle grin, but she saw right through him. She always did. He simply nodded in affirmation, but his eyes told a different story. His eyes were thanking her for filling the missing puzzle piece that his squad had been lacking. An appreciation for her hard work and dedication — which was so much more than he had expected from her. Not to say he was expecting otherwise, but the depth of her commitment ran deeper than anyone could've fathomed, and he knew that. 

She gently closed the door behind herself as she made her way back to the bullpen. Her eyes darted around the room in search of the man she had brought with her. Once she finally saw him, she stopped to watch him from across the bullpen. He was silently running his hands over the files, letting them splay across the metal top of her desk. His eyes were glued to the laminated names on each tab of the folders. He was in his element; his old element. A piece of himself that he had lost so long ago. To the core of who he was, he was a fighter. A veteran and a cop. A survivor to the fullest extent of the definition. Just like that, they had switched places. He was delicate and she was hardened. He was the civilian and she was the officer. Yet, they both remained survivors. Nothing could ever change that. 

Forcing her feet to continue moving after the abrupt pause, she slowly made her way back over to him. The world around him was lost. He must not have seen the confused stares from the bystanding officers, each of which whom were questioning who this man was or why he was so interested in confidential files. 

They didn't know his story; she did.

So she also understood why he was desperately fighting himself from diving into one of her cases to help crack it. That had been his livelihood, but now he was a stranger to it all; just like he was a stranger to the people around him. Officers wearing the uniform he once so proudly donned. The shimmering gold badge that had stayed pinned to his breast pocket for nearly six years of his life back in Hawkins. 

"Hop," she whispered, her hand hovering right above her shoulder as she tipped her weight over to one foot. She was trying to catch a glimpse of his facial expression as she did so. His head lifted slowly to reconnect with her and the life around them. "You okay?" she asked, her hand finally coming down to rest against him. 

"Yeah," he muttered in response to her question. Yes, he was okay. No, he wasn't adjusted or comfortable. No, he didn't recognize a thing nor did he understand it. But yes, he was okay. He would be at least. Eventually. 

Joyce stayed silent, watching him as he soaked in her new environment. She saw his eyes find the framed photo of El, which sat snugly between a photo of Jonathan and Will on her desk. He was becoming mesmerized with photos lately and she couldn't help but wonder if it was his way of trying to reclaim what he had missed. As if he was trying to form his own version of events behind each photo, pretending that the memory he was creating as he examined it was the real thing — not just one of a million things he had missed out on. 

"You're good at what you do," he stated simply, reorganizing the files back into a neat and tidy pile on her desk. The manila color contrasted well against the sluggish green metal they laid upon. His old life was right in front of him, just out of his grasp and comfortably controlled by her own instead. It couldn't help but remind him of the Upside Down and how things there were so similar, but just so slightly different that he couldn't put his finger on it. At least, despite the obvious death and decay that came along with that haunted place. There had always been something that was always just off about the Upside Down. 

His new life was an artificial version of the Upside Down. Things were so similar, but different in the smallest ways. Their new home looked just like the outskirts of Hawkins, but the house was different and their roads led into the big city, not just another patch of nowhere. His job looked all the same except he wasn't the one sitting at the desk with a cramped hand after hours of paperwork. Now, it was hers. His daughter wasn't the same girl he had left behind, but she was a ghost of the daughter he had known. It was all so homogeneous, yet oh so different. 

She gathered up the papers and placed them in the box that Ackerman had left in her chair. She had tried to imagine what it was like for him to be robbed of everything he had known. What he felt or how everything about his old identity had been spread and passed around to others. His job, his kid, his home. None of it was his anymore. It didn't take much imagination to relate to his feelings on a lesser level. She had lived through the same experience during and after everything with Will happened. Hawkins wasn't home. Sales weren't her specialty anymore. Her son had nearly died... twice. 

She did understand, at least to some degree. Probably as close as she would ever get to understanding his side of the story. His experience and turmoil. Maybe that was why she was so desperate to save him. His magnitude reached levels that she could only begin to understand; and if anyone had ever gone through what she had gone through, then she wanted to do everything it took to make it better for them. 

It had dawned on her about a week before traveling to Russia, he couldn't be held prisoner in her own home. Of course, her baser instincts told her that she needed to keep him in her sights at all times. Yet, she was reminded every time that she looked at Will that it wouldn't work that way. She would only drive herself insane if she kept him on a leash around her 24/7 — worrying about him. She'd be worried about him for the rest of her life. But the last thing she wanted to do was to hold him captive just as he had been for three years. 

Reluctantly, Owens had agreed with her when she had brought up the topic. His one-year-rule had done damage to El, he didn't want Hopper to suffer the same way. Hiding out in fear that anyone on the street who even crossed eyes with him could be someone who could put him in jeopardy. But, they had come up with a solution that would be as close to compromise as they could get. 

Joyce clutched the steering wheel, anxiety pooling in her stomach as they reached closer to their homebound destination. "So... I have a little surprise for you," she said quietly, trying to hide the near-microscopic smile growing on her lips. 

He turned away from the window for the first time since they had started to head home. His ears perked up, his eyes familiarly wide; the same expression she had seen El wear on several occasions. "Surprise? What surprise?"

"Well, it wouldn't be a surprise if I told you, would it?" she chuckled, noticing the sticky spots on her steering wheel where her palms had begun to sweat from the nervousness. "We're almost home. You'll see, don't worry."

His eyes stayed attached to the side of her face for a few seconds longer. He was trying to read through her to find her mysterious secret. Just the look he was giving her made it seem as if the answer could be hiding in one of the lines on her face. Finally, after the awkward silence, his eyes fell onto the road instead of the passenger window. "Joyce... you don't have to do anything for me," he whispered, a sudden rush of shame washing over him. 

"It was nothing!" she interjected, still wearing a small smile that she hoped would lift his mood. "Besides, it's more like a gift. A gift to make up for—" No. "Uh... a belated birthday gift." 

She thanked every star in the sky that she was nearly home. She was slipping; constantly letting the façade crack and acknowledging the elephant in the room. She had spent so much time training herself not to mention it, yet she was failing. It had all been so much easier in her head. 

Finally, the familiar gravel path to her driveway was visible from the road. She breathed a sigh of relief, spinning the wheel to swing a right into the pathway. As soon as she had gotten close enough to the garage, she shut the car off and quickly jumped out. "Hold on, just one second."

She rushed over to the garage door, gripping the handle and pushing the door up to reveal a vehicle that was unfamiliar to him. He furrowed his brows, cautiously stepping out of her squad car to approach her. "What is this?" 

"This," she smiled, pulling the keys out from her pocket. "is your car. '82 Chevette. Jonathan drove it for a while after his old car died but when he told me he was gonna trade it in, I figured I'd buy it off of him. The kids drive my Pinto more than I do and the squad car is my usual form of transport. But uh— I wanted you to have something... just for you." 

He finally cracked what she could recognize as the closest thing to a real smile since she had found him. "Joyce... I— I don't know what to say," he breathed, his chest rising faster with the fast-paced beat of his heart. 

"Ah, well... Owens helped me pull a few strings. He got you a new Illinois license and a new social security card just in case. It's registered in your name; We figured as long as we weren't in Indiana, the name would still be safe to use" she took a few steps closer to him, placing the keys in his calloused palm while pulling the license out from her back pocket. Her voice dropped to something more somber as she looked up at him. "We just have to remember the deal, okay? Hawkins and anywhere near it is off-limits. But uh — there's a local map in the glove box with our address circled on it so if you wanna go for a drive, you won't get lost." 

He felt the weight of the keys in his hand, focusing his eyes on the shiny metal that caught the reflection from the sun. "Thank you," he said after a few moments of silence. Finally, he lifted his eyes to meet hers as he gave her another small but genuine smile. "This means a lot to me... really." 

Her own smile grew brighter and for the first time, she felt small under him. She hadn't felt that familiar feeling in so long, she had nearly forgotten of its existence. He would always be taller than her, but the sense of being smaller beneath him came from knowing that he was strong. He would be strong again, it would just take time. 

An excruciatingly long period of time...

"I'm uh — I'm gonna try to get some rest before I gotta go pick up El from tutoring. Come on, I'll go make us lunch." she rested her hand on his arm, guiding him to follow her. In his palm, he clutched tightly onto the keys, silently praying that they would somehow help him regain some of the dignity he had lost.