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Oct. 15th, 2022 09:29 pm"Hey," he says, looking down at her. "I'm gonna die someday. But not today. I still got a date to make, remember?"
She clings to it, to that promise, and to the kiss that follows it, as she watches him walk away from her and prays that he isn't about to let her down.
"Don't you stand me up, Jim Hopper," she murmurs under her breath, as she turns towards the flickering screens. "Don't you dare."
Joyce's heart is in her mouth as she watches him on the screens, moving slowly, gun in hand. He looks so different that he did back in Hawkins -- not just what they did to him physically, but something in his eyes -- and Joyce's chest aches as she watches him pick his way down the corridors that lead towards the laundry. Her eyes on the screens, she runs through the plan in her head again: get 'em in, lock 'em up, rain fire from above, and hope like Hell. Joyce can't think about El and the others right then, about Will and Jonathan and, oh God, Mike is with them, too, isn't he? And it's just so much to expect of a girl of El's age, just like it was too much to expect of Will, and it's too much to expect of Hopper and, Jesus Christ, can't the world just save itself for a change?
On the screen, Hopper's got the demodog's attention. Everything's still for a moment, and then it explodes and he takes off running, and she knows her job, she does, but on the screen, the man she loves is running and suddenly it occurs to her that he's not running fast enough. He's not going to make it.
Barely knowing what she's doing, Joyce grabs one of the cattle prods off the wall, and she runs, the soles of her boots pounding against the concrete floor. Goddamnit, she is not having another funeral.
She rounds a corner and, for a sick moment, she thinks she's too late because Hopper is down, the demodog on top of him, all slobbering jaws and hunger and hate, and then she doesn't think at all, just jabs with the prod and pulls the trigger until it spills to the side and goes quiet and still. Back on his feet, Jim throws his arms around her, says her name, and all Joyce can think is thank God, thank God, thank God.
They barely have time to catch their breath before the demogorgon explodes towards them. They run, back towards the pit because where else are they going to go? They stumble into a cell and Jim yanks the door shut behind them, but it's barely a heartbeat before the demogorgon rips it away like it's paper, and they're going to die, aren't they? After everything they've been through, everything they've survived, they're going to die like this, cold and on the other side of the world from their kids. At least they'll be together. At least…
"Hey, assholes!" shouts Murray, and they barely have time to turn their faces away before fire rains down, and Jim's arm is around her and then it isn't and Joyce lifts her head because if he's gone, if it…if it's happened, then she at least has to see. She owes him that much.
But she doesn't see him. She doesn't see Jim or the monster or the prison at all. She sees a snatch of blue sky instead.
"Jim?"
She clings to it, to that promise, and to the kiss that follows it, as she watches him walk away from her and prays that he isn't about to let her down.
"Don't you stand me up, Jim Hopper," she murmurs under her breath, as she turns towards the flickering screens. "Don't you dare."
Joyce's heart is in her mouth as she watches him on the screens, moving slowly, gun in hand. He looks so different that he did back in Hawkins -- not just what they did to him physically, but something in his eyes -- and Joyce's chest aches as she watches him pick his way down the corridors that lead towards the laundry. Her eyes on the screens, she runs through the plan in her head again: get 'em in, lock 'em up, rain fire from above, and hope like Hell. Joyce can't think about El and the others right then, about Will and Jonathan and, oh God, Mike is with them, too, isn't he? And it's just so much to expect of a girl of El's age, just like it was too much to expect of Will, and it's too much to expect of Hopper and, Jesus Christ, can't the world just save itself for a change?
On the screen, Hopper's got the demodog's attention. Everything's still for a moment, and then it explodes and he takes off running, and she knows her job, she does, but on the screen, the man she loves is running and suddenly it occurs to her that he's not running fast enough. He's not going to make it.
Barely knowing what she's doing, Joyce grabs one of the cattle prods off the wall, and she runs, the soles of her boots pounding against the concrete floor. Goddamnit, she is not having another funeral.
She rounds a corner and, for a sick moment, she thinks she's too late because Hopper is down, the demodog on top of him, all slobbering jaws and hunger and hate, and then she doesn't think at all, just jabs with the prod and pulls the trigger until it spills to the side and goes quiet and still. Back on his feet, Jim throws his arms around her, says her name, and all Joyce can think is thank God, thank God, thank God.
They barely have time to catch their breath before the demogorgon explodes towards them. They run, back towards the pit because where else are they going to go? They stumble into a cell and Jim yanks the door shut behind them, but it's barely a heartbeat before the demogorgon rips it away like it's paper, and they're going to die, aren't they? After everything they've been through, everything they've survived, they're going to die like this, cold and on the other side of the world from their kids. At least they'll be together. At least…
"Hey, assholes!" shouts Murray, and they barely have time to turn their faces away before fire rains down, and Jim's arm is around her and then it isn't and Joyce lifts her head because if he's gone, if it…if it's happened, then she at least has to see. She owes him that much.
But she doesn't see him. She doesn't see Jim or the monster or the prison at all. She sees a snatch of blue sky instead.
"Jim?"
