Time After Time (a Stranger Things fanfiction)

Harden My Heart

"Harden My Heart"

I'm gonna harden my heart

I'm gonna swallow my tears

I'm gonna turn and leave you here

- Quarterflash

After the phone call, Joyce and Jonathan drove into town to the police station. With the phone fried, there was no other way to report what had happened. Hopper's secretary assured them she would give him the message, and he would come out as soon as he could, and it was clear that was the best she was going to do. Whether it was the best she could do, Joyce doubted, but she let Jonathan take her home. Despite all of his encouragement, she couldn't settle down. She tried to sleep a little on the couch while waiting for Hopper to come, but how could she when all she could think of was Will out there somewhere, scared, with who knew what kind of terrible things happening to him?

The morning was a relief, because then at least she could do something. The posters. The posters would help, because someone would see Will, because you couldn't keep a little boy locked up. You had to let him out eventually. She clung to that idea, even as Jonathan moved around the kitchen making her breakfast and putting the plate in front of her. She wanted to eat, for his sake, and because she knew she needed to keep up her strength, but she couldn't. The sight, the smell ... It was too much. She reached for another cigarette, and then she and Jonathan both jumped at the sharp rap on the door.

Hopper was exhausted, and discouraged. There had been no sign of the boy. Whatever had happened to him, he was just ... gone. And the longer he was gone, the worse the results would be. And now he had to deal with Joyce, and tell her he had nothing to tell her, and hear some story about a phone call that sounded unbelievable, when all he really wanted to do was go home, pop a beer and some pills, and try to shut the world away.

"We've been waiting six hours!" she said as soon as the door opened.

He sighed. "I know. I came as soon as I could."

"Six hours."

What did she think he had been doing all this time, sleeping like a baby? "Little bit of trust here, all right? We've been searching all night. Went all the way to Cartersville."

"And?" From the stricken look on her face, she knew what the answer would be.

"Nothing."

She gave a little sob and turned away, her hand over her mouth. Behind her, the older boy Jonathan, stood, stolid and unresponsive.

Joyce, feeling helpless and frantic, was on the edge of losing her control entirely when Hopper said, quietly, "Flo says you got a phone call?"

Yes. This was something she could do. She could tell Hopper and they could, what, trace the call? That was a thing police did, right? "Yeah." She led him to the phone, watching as he picked up the receiver, scorched and blackened.

"Storm barbecued this pretty good."

"Storm?"

"What else?"

Couldn't he see that something strange had happened here? Why would a storm have fried her phone while she was listening to Will cry? Why not at some other random time? She gestured to the phone, wanting him to look again, to see something—anything. "You're saying that that's not ... weird?"