Time After Time (a Stranger Things fanfiction)

Heartache Tonight

"Heartache Tonight"

Before the night is through

Somebody's gonna come undone

There's nothing we can do

- Eagles

In the middle of the night, Joyce woke up suddenly. Since she'd been in the middle of a nightmare in which Hopper and her eighth-grade English teacher were facing off in the Upside Down against a giant monster made of cheese, she wasn't entirely unhappy to be awake. Lying still on the couch, she listened to the sounds of the house. All was quiet from Jonathan's room, and Will's ... but Eleven was in her room, crying quietly.

Joyce was on her feet immediately on hearing the sound of the girl's grief. El had grown up so controlled, so unaware of emotions and what humans did with them, that it was rare she made a sound no matter how hard she cried. If she was crying loudly enough to wake Joyce up, she must be in terrible pain.

She knocked softly on the door of the room that used to be hers, which she had given to Eleven. "El? You okay?" Joyce kept her voice low to avoid waking up the boys.

Silence from inside the room. Joyce could picture Eleven wiping her face and sitting still, holding her breath, waiting for Joyce to go away, feeling badly that she'd woken Joyce up.

Putting her hand on the knob, Joyce turned it gently, opening the door just a crack. "El, if you need me, I'm here. Can I come in?"

There was a pause, and then a very soft "yes".

Eleven was sitting cross-legged on the bed in her pajamas. In her hands was something black, which she was turning over and over. Joyce recognized it as the band she wore when she used her powers. "Any luck?" she asked, crossing the room and sitting down on the edge of the bed, far enough away to avoid making Eleven uncomfortable.

"No. No!" The first word was calm, the second set off a storm of weeping. Joyce opened her arms and Eleven practically threw herself into them.

When the girl's sobs had calmed, Joyce stroked her hair gently, rocking her back and forth just a little, the way she used to with the boys before they got too big to be held when they cried. "What if we had the TV on, for the static? Would that help?"

Eleven shook her head against Joyce's shoulder. She sat up, and Joyce passed her a hankie, which she recognized too late as being one of Hopper's. Eleven noticed that, too, and hesitated before she got it all messy by blowing her nose into it. "I can't ..." she mumbled into the hankie.

"Can't what?"

"I can't find him. I can't—I can't do anything! He might be out there, and I can't, and ... What if I never can again?" She looked up at Joyce, fear evident in her eyes.

In the daylight, Joyce would have reminded her that Hop was dead ... but it was the middle of the night, and that was a harsh truth for dark hours. And Joyce wanted to pretend it was possible, if only for a minute. "You've got to just let it come back on its own. Forcing it isn't going to work. Don't worry about Hopper. Wherever he is—if he's anywhere—he's got a plan. You can count on that. And he's not waiting for us. Okay?"

Eleven nodded. "But—he doesn't know how we are, if we—if we made it. And he won't know where we're going."

"He'll figure it out. Flo will know, and ..." Joyce hadn't told Eleven about the deal she'd made with Owens. She wanted her to have a fresh start and really live her life without worrying that anyone was coming for her. "Mike and Nancy and Murray, they all know. If he's out there, he'll find us."

"I know." But the fear and pain was still on the girl's face, and she stared at Joyce, her eyes eloquent with something she wasn't saying.

"Is it your powers? Are you afraid they won't come back?"

A slow nod. Eleven tried to speak, stopped, and then started again. "I ... don't know who I am."

"You mean, without your powers."

Another slow nod. Slowly, as if pushing each word out with all her force, Eleven said, "What if—what if nobody—" She stopped and swallowed and said in a rush, "What if Mike doesn't like me anymore without them?"

"Oh. Oh, baby." Joyce reached out and hugged her again, holding on tight. It had never occurred to her that this might be both as simple and as complicated as a young girl in love, worrying about her love being returned. But of course she should have known. Eleven was going through all of this, all of life, for the first time. And Mike was not only the boy she loved, he was the person who had shown her everything for the first time. How to talk to people, how ride a bike, how to be a friend—everything. Losing his respect, his friendship, would be devastating to her.

Joyce let go, holding Eleven by the shoulders and looking into her eyes. "I know it's hard to see this when you're in the middle of it, but I want you to trust me when I tell you that Mike likes you for who you are, not for what you can do. He likes you because you're strong, and brave, and funny, and loyal, and curious, and ... just, well, you. So do the rest of us. And you are all of those things whether you can move things with your mind or not. Sure, that's cool, and reaching out with your mind is cool, and you've saved our lives with those powers. But if you hadn't had them, you would have been standing there next to us, fighting, anyway. We all know that. You are one of us—you are part of our family, for the rest of your life. I promise you that."

Different tears were welling up in Eleven's eyes now, slowly spilling over and down her cheeks. Tears of relief.

But Joyce wasn't quite done. "I want to tell you this, Jane Eleven Hopper, and I want you to know that I mean it. I love you. You are my girl now, just like you were—are—Hopper's. And that means I'm going to tell you what to do, and I'm going to make rules you don't like, and make you food you don't want to eat, and all the things moms do to horrify their teenagers. And I'm going to love you even when you yell at me, and when you throw things at me, with your mind or with your hands, and I am going to be there for you through everything. I promise."

They were both crying now, and Eleven was nodding, and laughing through her tears. They hugged again, holding on for a long, long time, and then Joyce put her girl back to bed and tucked her in and watched over her, stroking her hair, until she fell asleep.