I Am a Rock

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"I Am a Rock"

If I never loved I never would have cried

I am a rock I am an island

- Simon and Garfunkel

As they huddled together in the rain, Joyce wanted to ask the kids what had happened; she wanted the whole story. But getting their story meant telling them hers, and she couldn't get the image of Hopper's face out of her mind, so sure, so accepting of his fate. She wasn't ready to tell them everything. Not yet. It could wait.

But not for long, apparently. A timid voice clearing its throat sounded outside their protective little circle and the kids moved aside to make room. Joyce was surprised to recognize Doc Owens. Surprised, and then enraged.

"You!" She got up, letting go of the kids' hands, and advanced on him, poking him in the chest. "You! If you had known what was happening, if you had gotten here sooner, you—Hop—" She drew in a breath, her chest burning with unshed tears. "Hop ..." But she couldn't finish, and she could see in Owens' face that he understood what she couldn't say. He looked grieved.

"I'm so sorry. I ... didn't know. I didn't think ..."

"No, of course you didn't. You just went off to do all your secret things and didn't pay attention to what was happening here and then the freaking Russians started digging in under here—"

Joyce's rant was cut off by Owens' hand over her mouth. "Mrs. Byers, I am truly sorry for what has happened here, and for your loss. The Chief was a good guy, and I wish I had been in time to save him. But if you keep talking out here in front of everybody, other secrets are going to come out, secrets we can't afford to have people overhearing. Do you understand?"

She nodded. Satisfied, he took his hand off her mouth and stepped back. "Now, I think we'd like to send you kids home."

Will and Mike stepped up next to Joyce. "We're not going anywhere," Mike said.

Owens looked at him and nodded slowly. "I get you. I do. But no one wants you involved in this, do you understand? No one's going to hurt anyone's mom. I need to talk to Mrs. Byers and her friend, but talking is all. Everyone else can go home, and when we all have our stories straight, they can, too."

For a moment, Joyce was bewildered as to what friend Owens could be referring to, and then felt terrible as she realized she had completely forgotten Murray. She'd left him with the soldiers when she ran to the kids. And poor Dustin and Erica were off somewhere by themselves, not knowing what was happening. Someone had to go get them.

"Give us a minute?" she asked Owens, who nodded and stepped away. "Okay, here's what you're going to do," she said to the kids. "Steve, you and your friend are going to go get Dustin and Erica and take them home. Lucas can go with you. Jonathan, you're going to take Nancy and Mike home and then you'll take Will and El back to our house. Max, do you want to go home, or do you want to come stay with us overnight and talk to your parents tomorrow?"

"I ..." Max shook her head. "I should go home. My mom ... I need to be there when Billy's dad finds out."

"Are you sure? Will you be okay?"

Max nodded. "I think so."

"Okay. Jonathan, you take Max home, too. Make sure everything's okay before you leave her. And all of you come to my house tomorrow. We'll have pizza and we'll ... see what's what." God, she wished Hopper was here. She pressed a hand over her face so she wouldn't cry again. "All right?"

There was a chorus of agreement, and Joyce was grateful for their maturity and their understanding.

The kids dispersed, with final hugs for Joyce and each other, and she turned to Owens.

Murray, who was standing next to him, looked down into her face. "Are you okay?"

She nodded. She wasn't okay, not really, might not ever be, but she could hold up tonight.

"All right," Owens said briskly, "let's go somewhere dry, we'll have some coffee, and we'll talk."

"I'm not saying anything to you," Murray told him.

"Fine. Then I'll talk."

Owens' men had come in helicopters; as Joyce and Murray climbed into one, she could see other members of what she would continue to think of as Hawkins Lab joining forces with the Hawkins Fire Department, and the now Chief-less police, to clean out what was left of the mall. She wondered if that meant Melvald's would actually have customers again for a while, until the mall was cleaned up and people started going there again.

It was hard to work up the energy to care about her job, or anything. She watched the mall, the last place she had seen Hopper, until it was gone. Murray put an arm around her shoulders. Weird and smelly though he was, she was grateful for his presence and his sympathy.

They landed near an office building, and Owens led them inside, where a conference table had been set up with coffee and sandwiches. Joyce and Murray dug in—the Burger King they'd eaten seemed like forever ago, and they were starving.

Once they had slowed down, Owens poured them fresh cups of coffee. "Now, tell me what happened."

"Don't tell him anything, Joyce," Murray said immediately.

"He's okay, Murray. I mean, mostly."

"Thank you," Owens responded without any evident sarcasm.

So Joyce told him—about the magnets, and Alexi, and the Russians, and the gate they had begun opening, and Hopper, and then about the meat monster, the form the Mindflayer had taken, while Murray fumed and tried to shush her.

"I see," Owens said when she was finished. She hadn't expected him to explain what he knew, and he didn't.

"So ... with Hopper gone, I can keep El—Jane, right? Because she's not going back to any lab."

"No, she's not, and I think I can arrange that. It's what the Chief wanted; he told me so, last time I talked to him."

"He did?" Joyce felt tears spring to her eyes again. "I didn't know he thought that far ahead."

Murray squeezed her shoulder.

"So ... nothing new with Will? He's all right?"

"Yes. He's fine." No thanks to Hawkins Lab, but Joyce didn't bother to say so.

"Good. So let us take care of everything. I'll have paperwork for you as soon as I can about Jane, and you can go home and ..." He thought better of whatever else he was going to say. "I'm sorry about the Chief."

"Thanks."

"And you." Owens looked at Murray, and some of the weary genial uncle persona left him. "I don't expect to be seeing any of this in any newspapers."

"Two of my friends died tonight," Murray told him, with more dignity than Joyce usually saw in him. "Before tonight, I didn't even know I had any friends."

Owens nodded. "I understand." He stood up, reaching out to take Joyce's hand in both of his, pressing gently, before he said good-bye. She and Murray left the building and found a long black car waiting to take them home.

"Joyce, do you mind if I go back with you?" Murray asked. She understood that he didn't want Hawkins Lab seeing where he lived.

"Sure. Come on. You can sleep on the couch or something."

So it was over ... but Joyce had left part of her heart buried deep beneath the mall, and she didn't think she would ever get it back.


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