Time After Time (a Stranger Things fanfiction)

Here Comes the Rain Again

"Here Comes the Rain Again"

Here comes the rain again

Raining in my head lke a tragedy

Tearing me apart like a new emotion

- Eurythmics

Hopper and Joyce both froze in place, arms around each other, glaring at the red phone.

"Damn it!" Hopper gritted between his teeth. Reluctantly he let Joyce go and lunged for the phone. If they didn't answer, who knew how long they'd have to wait for another call.

"Remember, they're listening!" Joyce called after him. She had as little idea how much the KGB knew about what was happening here at the prison as she did how much the US government knew about what had happened at Hawkins Lab, but it was always better to be careful, in her view.

He grabbed the phone off the cradle. "This is Jim Hopper. I need to speak with Owens."

There was a pause. "Jim Hopper is dead."

"No, he's not. I'm Jim Hopper. I survived, I was captured by the Russians, I've been in a Russian prison. I'm alive."

"Nonsense. Why would the Russians not have killed you?"

Did she think they had time for this? "They thought I could tell them things," he said impatiently.

"Did you?"

"No!"

"Prove that you are who you say you are."

"Prove that you are who you say you are," Hopper countered.

"You first. If you are Jim Hopper, then tell me something he would know."

"I know that you people came into Hawkins and were responsible for a whole lot of people dying, and then the Russians picked up where you left off, and if that's not enough for you, then you can go to hell."

"Hop!" Joyce tugged at his sleeve.

There was a faint warmth in the voice on the other end. "He said you were colorful."

"Great. So now we know who I am. Who are you?"

Another pause. "A friend of the doc's."

"Great, so am I! Now put me on the phone with him."

"I'm afraid the doc is ... indisposed."

"Indisposed? What do you mean, indisposed?"

"He was with the girl. There were ... complications."

"The girl? What girl? The girl?" He stared at Joyce. Eleven was home in California. That's what she'd said. "What complications?"

Joyce's hands were over her mouth, her eyes wide with fear.

"She's gone to ... Hawkins."

"Hawkins? Why Hawkins?" Horror filled him. "You're saying this isn't over. You're saying—it's come back. The boy!" he shouted. "The boy. What about the boy?"

"No contact."

"You don't know where he is?" he demanded. Joyce looked like she was about to faint.

"I don't know where any of them are," the woman admitted. "I can't reach them. Any of them."

"You can't reach any of them?"

"That's right."

"Oh, my God," Joyce whispered, her eyes filling with tears.

"You're saying the boys, the ones from California, you know—"

"The Byers family. Yes."

He nodded at Joyce, who covered her whole face with her hands, her shoulders shaking. She had left them behind, and all hell had broken loose. He wondered if she would still make this choice, knowing that. Was he worth it? How could he possibly be?

"What the hell? How did this happen?"

"Mr. Hopper, there is no time to explain. There may not be time— What did you call for?"

He didn't like the sound of "there may not be time" at all. "I need extraction. From Russia. For ... four. No, five." It had surprised him that Antonov had said "us", as if he planned to go to America, too ... but really, why wouldn't he? Disgraced guard from a Soviet prison, what future was there for him in Russia? What future had there been before? If Antonov hadn't wanted out, he wouldn't have agreed to help Hopper in the first place. What to do about his kid, probably his wife, was a question for another day.

The voice on the other end said crisply, "Impossible."

"What do you mean, impossible?"

"All units are unavailable at this time."

"Unavailable? Do you people have control of this situation at all?"

There was a pause, and then the crisp, cold voice said, "Not ... exactly. It would be wise if you came home, Mr. Hopper."

"That's what I'm trying to do!"

"I wish I could help you." Enough warmth had seeped into the voice to make him believe she might actually wish that. "But you have to get out on your own. When you reach the States, call again, and we will come get you. If we can."

"Great. Thanks. Appreciate the help." He didn't care that his voice was dripping with sarcasm. Putting the phone down, he turned to Joyce. "They're not coming. Everyone's 'unavailable', and Owens is 'indisposed'. And something's going down in Hawkins, with El, and with your boys."

"Oh, Hop, I'm so sorry!" Tears were rolling down her cheeks. "I had one job, to keep them safe, and the moment I knew you were—were alive, I just took off, and I—I left them. I left them!"

"Hey. Hey." He put his arms around Joyce and held her close. "You couldn't have known, remember? But I know. I know that they were always planning to feed me to that ... thing. And the only reason I'm alive, standing here right now, is that you came for me. Okay?" He pulled back and looked at her, wiping a tear gently away with his thumb. "And you and I are going to go home together and we are going to end this, for our family."

Joyce stared at him. Slowly, she nodded. 

"Okay?"

"Okay." 

"Let's get the others, and we'll ... figure something out."