Happenstance ⌱ Jim Hopper

[ 8 ] GUNS OF BRIXTON

[ 8 ]

THE CRUISER was silent as Jodie crawled back into the cab, gnawing silently on her bottom lip. Even though she could taste the metallic tang of blood on her tongue, she continued to chew. Jodie's heart was hurting, throbbing, as the water-logged body of Will Byers played on a loop through her shell-shocked mind. 

     Every fifth thought, Will's body was replaced instead by a cruel manipulation of her mind, envisioning Jamey's body instead of Will's. 

      Where was Jamey's body? It had been over a year since he went missing, so where was he? Will had been found, only in a matter of a few days. And, as awful as it was for the town to lose another young boy, Jodie just wanted it to be over. She wanted Jamey's body laid to rest, brought home and buried.

      Jodie wanted closure.

     The doe-eyed Will Byers haunted Jodie's thoughts. Perhaps it would have been better if Jodie hadn't decided to tag along with Jim Hopper. Maybe Jodie would have been able to sleep better, if she hadn't seen his small frame, so similar to her brother's, being pulled from the quarry. 

     Jodie's stomach churned inside of her, nervous and horrified. 

      She'd promised Joyce that she believed her. She'd given in to Joyce's delusions. Sure, Jodie was sure she had seen something come from Joyce Byer's wall, but the boy? That body had been there for some time. Was it possible, truly, for Joyce to have heard her son's voice on the phone when he was already dead?

       Jodie slouched down in the leather seat, peering out of the cruiser's window. The pane was slightly fogged from her breath in the icy cab, but she could still make out the defeated, hunched frame of Jim Hopper as he trudged to the cruiser.

      Yanking open the cruiser's driver's side door, Jim jerked his hat off of his head and smoothed down his askew hair with a deep exhale. His blue gaze was trained on his boots, but Jodie was sure he was trying to find something to say, something to ease the putrid sadness that clouded between the two of them.

      "Someone's gotta tell Joyce."

      Jodie nodded, stopping her incessant chewing on her raw lip. "Will you be the one... to do it?" She sat up straighter, watching the deep lines in Jim's forehead furrow further under pressure. She wondered what he was thinking, and if there was something she could say to wipe that defeated, hollow gaze from his expression.

       Jim scratched the stubble growth on his chin and slid into the cruiser beside Jodie. "I've got to send—"

      The small, black radio clicked to life between the two, Flo's soft voice on the other side, slightly stifled by the airwaves. "Hey, Chief, we've got a 10-16 at the Byers' home."

       Jodie arched a brow, eyes trained on the radio as if a miniature Flo was about to burst through the speakers at any moment. It was an odd thought, but it drove away the darker feelings she was having at the moment.