Time After Time (a Stranger Things fanfiction)

Our House

"Our House"

Life used to be so hard

Now everything is easy 'cause of you

- Crosby, Stills & Nash

Joyce was concentrating hard on the recipe in front of her, trying to get everything just right. If she measured properly and timed everything the way the recipe said, the food should come out edible, possibly even good.

"Mom, I can do that." Jonathan hovered anxiously over her shoulder.

"So can I. Really. Why don't you set the table?" Joyce glanced at the table. "Will, sweetie, can you clean up the crayons and paper, please?"

"I'm almost done." He was concentrating hard on whatever it was he was drawing, and she hated to disrupt him when he looked like that.

"All right. Jonathan, just leave Will's place alone for now."

As she turned back to the stove, she could hear the boys murmuring about Will's drawing. Good food cooking, her boys talking to each other, music playing on the stereo ... It was such a lovely feeling, to be back to normal, but she couldn't help feeling what was missing. If only Bob was about to drive up, smiling and happy, to kiss her on the cheek and tease her about her cooking and bring along some stupid movie he and she would laugh at while the boys rolled their eyes—

She did hear the wheels of a car outside, and for a moment she was certain it was Bob, that everything else had been a bad dream ... until she saw Jonathan make a beeline for the door. Of course, it wasn't Bob. It was Nancy, who had been invited for dinner.

Joyce watched out of the corner of her eye as Nancy and Jonathan stood awkwardly in the doorway, trying to decide if they should kiss or hug or just walk on by each other or what. She smiled to herself.

Nancy looked surprisingly nervous as she came into the kitchen. She had a bottle in her hand, wrapped in foil. "Hi, Mrs. Byers. My mom sent this along for you, said to tell you hello."

"Thank her for me, please." Joyce took the bottle and set it down on the table, turning to look at her son's girlfriend, whose delicate face didn't even hint at how much strength she really had. "I never thanked you, for what you did."

"Oh. It was nothing."

"It was everything," Joyce corrected. "I wouldn't have had the strength to do what you did. You saved Will. I owe you."

Nancy shook her head. "You don't owe me anything. That—it was for Barbara, too, what I did."

"Of course." Nevertheless, Joyce gathered the girl in her arms and held her close. "I'm glad you came. Come anytime—you're always welcome here."

"Thank you."

As she let Nancy go, Joyce caught the glance shared between Nancy and Jonathan. She wondered how soon she might come to regret her open-ended offer. Although she was the last person to be censuring her children on the dangers of premarital sex, she was definitely going to need to have a talk with Jonathan about safety, and she hoped Nancy's mother had talked to her, as well. Maybe when they got to know each other better she could delicately sound Nancy out about the topic.

Will was just finishing his drawing as Jonathan set the table and got Nancy a glass of water. Collecting his papers and tucking his crayons back in the box, Will picked up his drawing and gave it to his mother. "I ... wish he was here."

It was a drawing of Bob, flying, with the caption "Bob Newby, Superhero". Joyce felt the tears, never far away, come rushing back, her face twisting, and she turned away so Will wouldn't see her cry.

His thin arms came around her waist, and he held her tight. After a moment, she felt Jonathan's arms close around her shoulders, and then Nancy's arm as Jonathan pulled her into the hug. Bob was here in spirit. Joyce could practically feel him, a gentle touch on her back. But the four of them, they had made it. They had come through and they would be strong together. A family.

The timer going off startled all of them. How long would it be before they stopped jumping at everything unexpected? A while yet, Joyce imagined. But here was Will, getting well and strong, the dark shadows beginning to fade from under his eyes; and Jonathan, finding new confidence in himself with Nancy; and Joyce would move on, too, finding her strength in the love of her boys and in the memory of Bob's love.

Looking at the chicken, the coating crisp and the sauce thickened just right as she took it out of the oven, and the stuffing fluffy and light, Joyce thought with some guilt that she should have invited Hopper and Eleven. Surely coming here had to be safe enough—her house was hardly in the center of Hawkins, after all. Next time she would.

From the table, Joyce took the picture Will had drawn, fastening it to the front of the refrigerator with a magnet. Gently she laid her fingers on the flying figure.

"Is it ... okay?" Will asked.

"It's better than okay. It's perfect. Thank you, honey."

He shook his head, his lip quivering. "No, Mom. Thank you. You saved me again. And Bob."

Joyce cupped his face in her hands. "I will always be there when you need me, no matter what. I promise."

"I know. I kind of hope I don't again, though."

She smiled, squeezing his shoulder. "I kind of hope you don't, either." She gave Bob's picture on the refrigerator another gentle pat, trying not to think about what it had been like to open the freezer and find the frozen body of a demodog inside it. She was lucky the freezer door hadn't come off, she'd slammed it shut so hard, and then she'd called Hopper, hysterical, and demanded he come get the thing the hell out of her refrigerator. Which he had, after only a few dozen jokes about it at her expense. Joyce shook her head, glad to have a house free of the Upside Down, hopefully forever. "Come on," she said to Will, "let's eat."

"It smells really good, Mom."

Jonathan was already dishing up, and Nancy smiled as Joyce and Will took their places at the table.

"So, tell me about school," Joyce said, holding out her plate. "Anything interesting going on? I hear there's a dance coming up."

The meal was filled with laughter, the kids teasing each other about the dance, and the food was some of the best Joyce had ever made. It was enough. More than enough.