Time After Time (a Stranger Things fanfiction)

Heroes

"Heroes"

Yes we're lovers, and that is that

Though nothing will keep us together

We could steal time just for one day

We can be heroes forever and ever

What d'you say?

- David Bowie

Joyce hovered by the glass windows of the control room, watching the fight, wincing whenever the Russian landed a blow on Hopper, which was way too often for her peace of mind. She desperately wanted to be out there, lending a hand—or a fist—in the fight, taking some of the burden off Hopper, but she knew she was no match for the Russian, not if he was kicking Hopper's ass this thoroughly. And while she had the gun, there was no way she could get close enough to the two men to be sure she wouldn't accidentally shoot Hopper.

Hop was holding his own, getting back up every time the Russian knocked him flat, and Joyce had never admired his strength more. She could only imagine how much pain he must be in, but you couldn't tell it by the way he just kept coming back, trying to take the Russian out.

For a moment, Hopper had the Russian down and was whaling on his chest, and Joyce breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe now it was over—Hopper would win, and he'd run back into the control room, and they'd end this nightmare once and for all.

Then the Russian kneed Hopper in the side of the head, sending him flying over the Russian's body, landing with his head hanging off the walkway, the machine only inches away from the top of his head. The Russian got to his feet, seeming barely winded by a fight that had taken everything Hopper had, and put his boot on Hopper's throat, leaving Hopper squirming, trying to get out from under and away from the lethal edge of the machine.

Through the walkie-talkie she suddenly heard one of the kids screaming. "Hurry! Close it now! Close it!"

Looking out, she saw Hopper struggling for his life.

The consoles they had put the keys in were still beeping at her, the keys still in their slots.

She had two choices—she could find a way to finish this, or she could go help Hopper. Joyce knew without a doubt which one he would want her to choose.

How to turn both keys at the same time when the whole system was set up so that one person couldn't reach them both at once? Looking down, she saw the gunbelt attached over the shoulder of the uniform. Unfastening it at both ends, she hurried to one of the keys and slid the metal clasp down over it. Keeping one hand on the strap, she reached as far as she could.

She couldn't quite make it to the other key.

"Come on!" she muttered, straining just a little bit farther. She was so close.

*****

The world had narrowed to only himself and the Russian. Really, to his neck and the Russian's boot on it. The machine was a third thing, but it seemed far away in comparison to the way his vision was dimming as the relentless boot cut his air off.

Hopper strained to stay conscious, fingers scrabbling at the boot. Finally they found purchase, and he was able to twist the Russian's ankle until the boot mercifully came off his throat and he could breathe again. Grabbing the front of the Russian's shirt, Hopper pulled sharply, banging the Russian's head against the spinning metal of the machine. The man screamed and reeled back, giving Hopper a chance to scramble to his feet.

The Russian swung at him, but Hopper hadn't been on the receiving end of dozens of his blows without having learned a few things about the way he hit. He caught the blow this time, using the Russian's own arm to push him backward, digging his thumb into the place in the Russian's shoulder where he knew his earlier bullet had impacted.

It was the two of them now, man to man, and for the first time, Hopper knew he was going to win. He put his face very close to the Russian's and ground out "I'll see you in hell" before grasping his shirt and throwing him into the machine.

He flung up his hands to protect himself from the sparks and other things flying from the machine at the impact.

*****

Electricity was arcing from the machine as it spun, and the gate was still slowly, inexorably, opening.

The kid's voice again, screaming through the walkie-talkie: "Close it now! Close it!"

She had to. No matter that she couldn't reach, she had to. And in that knowledge, somehow Joyce managed to stretch her hand those extra couple of inches so that she could grasp the key.

Only then did she look up and out the window of the control room, her eyes meeting Hopper's. He had won the fight; against all odds he had won. But too late. She couldn't wait for him to get clear—she had to close the gate now. Something was happening far above their heads, something bad. Their children were in danger; they were out of time.

That knowledge passed between them as they looked at each other. Joyce tried to tell Hopper with her eyes everything his support and his caring had meant to her—in high school, in the last few years. She tried to tell him what she was only realizing just this moment: that she loved him, that she wanted ... all sorts of things there was no more time for.

*****

Hopper watched Joyce's face, so pale and scared, through the electricity sparking from the machine, through the glass that separated them. She had to do it; she couldn't wait for him. They both knew that.

If only they'd had their date, he thought. If only he had the memory of her kiss to take with him wherever he was going. If only he'd told El everything she meant to him, told Joyce how much he loved her. If he had it to do all over again ...

But it was too late for that. Joyce would pull the keys, and the machine would stop, and Hopper would be—gone. Wherever Sara had gone, he thought, and there was some comfort in that.

He nodded at Joyce, letting her know he understood and he was ready. She would do it, he knew. She was strong enough to save the world, no matter what it cost her. He hoped she would take that strength and do something with it, become the woman he had always known she could be.

*****

Joyce nodded back, fighting the tears. She didn't want to do this—she wanted Hopper here at her side, doing this with her. But that dream was gone. She was on her own, and she was going to have to do this.

She closed her eyes so she couldn't see what happened to him, and she turned the keys.