Time After Time (a Stranger Things fanfiction)

Waiting for a Girl Like You

"Waiting for a Girl Like You"

Sometimes I don't know what I will find

I only know it's a matter of time

- Foreigner

The drive back from Chicago was as quiet as the ride to Chicago had been lively. On the way there, they had sung along to all of Will's favorite weird songs, some of which Hopper thought he might actually like, and played the license plate game, and Hopper had told Will a few carefully chosen stories about himself and Joyce in high school, while Joyce laughed and protested and filled in details he'd forgotten.

But on the way home, Will stared out the window at the rain until he fell asleep, Joyce curled up on her seat, and Hopper set his mind on auto-pilot and did his best to drive without thinking.

The specialist had been no help. Worse, it had become clear as they left his office that none of the three of them had expected him to be helpful. So they couldn't even be said to have been fooling themselves—if anything, they had been fooling each other.

Hopper's heart hurt for Will. The kid never complained. He endured whatever he was going through without a word, he did his best to keep his spirits up for his mom and his brother and his friends, and he tried as hard as he could to move forward with his life even while he was still stuck in the nightmare. Hopper had always respected strength, but the strength he generally recognized was more like Lucas's—in your face and loud and bristling. In Will, Hopper saw another kind of strength, quiet but firm, something very much like what Joyce had, and he admired that strength even while not entirely understanding it.

Glancing at Joyce, he could see that she was suffering, but she also had one eye on the back seat, ready to sit up and be cheerful for Will's sake as soon as there was any sign he was waking up.

He hunted around for something to say that would take everyone's mind off the fact that now they had no choice but to go to Hawkins Lab about Will's episodes and try to trust those people to be straight with them—and he found nothing.

Joyce shifted in her seat, and glanced over to see him watching her. "Look at the road, Hop."

"Yeah. Sure." Without thinking, he reached for her hand, squeezing it reassuringly. "It's going to be okay."

"Sure it is."

"You want some music?"

"Not right now. Will's sleeping."

"Okay."

"Hey, Hop, can I tell you something?"

"Yeah." He hoped by now she knew she could tell him anything. Of course, the secret about Eleven was still weighing on him, and if he had to guess, he'd bet Joyce knew he was hiding something from her ... but if he could tell anyone about Eleven, it would be Joyce, and that had to count for something, didn't it?

"Hopper?" Joyce asked, and he shook off his thoughts and nodded.

"Yeah. You were going to tell me something. What's going on?"

"I'm, uh ... Well, you remember Bob Newby?"

"From high school? Bob the Brain? Man, that takes me back." He grinned. Poor Bob, they really had taken shameless advantage of him. "He works at that electronics place now, right?"

"Radio Shack."

"Yeah, that's the one. What about him?"

"Well ... I'm kind of ... I'm dating him, Hop."

He looked at her, startled, then back at the road just in time to keep the car from drifting out of the lane. "Bob Newby? You and Bob Newby?"

"Yeah. Me and Bob Newby," she snapped. "You got something to say?"

"No, no, nothing," Hopper corrected himself hastily. Watching the road, he couldn't help thinking about the way Bob had looked at Joyce in high school. A lot of guys had looked at her that way—but only Bob had grown up to go out with her. Lucky Bob. "Good for him. He must feel ten feet tall."

Joyce looked at him with narrowed eyes, clearly wondering if that was a jab at Bob's fairly modest height. He'd meant it sincerely, though, and she must have seen that. "Thank you, Hopper."

"Hey. You're happy, right? He makes you happy?"

She got a faraway look, as if she was picturing Bob. "He really does."

Hopper swallowed against the hot jealousy that rose in him automatically. Whatever might have been between them once, whatever could have been if things were different, his guardianship of Eleven took precedence over anything else. She needed him to keep her safe, needed him more than Joyce did. "Hey," he said again, gruffly. "You're a good mom. You've raised those boys right. You—you deserve a chance to be happy, a chance that's just for you."

"Thanks." She reached for his hand, and he took it off the steering wheel to hold hers, driving with his left. "What about you? Are you ..." She seemed to think better of the word 'happy'. "Are you okay?"

Hopper nodded. "I am. Better than okay," he added after some thought, deciding that was all right to admit to.

"Good. Hey, Hop?"

"Hm?"

"Thank you, for all this. For helping me with this. I ... I'm glad you came back to Hawkins."

He squeezed her hand. "Me, too." And, for probably the first time, he really was.