Chapter Text
It’s been debated by the nation for over a year now: how would the government respond to the massive population decrease following the nation’s nuclear testing? It’s on every news station, splashed across every paper; Joyce had been dragged into more conversations than she could count while ringing people out at Melvald’s.
It honestly doesn’t worry her much until Hopper tells her about the government trucks rolling into Indianapolis, and when she gets a call from Hawkins General telling her she had to come in for a physical examination the following week. Anxiety claws at her throat for the entire week leading up to the appointment, and when she’s led to the room, she’s surprised to see Sam Owens already seated.
“Dr. Owens?” Joyce asks, confusion coloring her voice, and he stands with a bit of a grimace. “What is going on?”
“I uh- I take it you’ve seen the news, recently,” Owens starts, and Joyce’s eyebrows furrowed together as she nods. “Well- the government is about half a step away from passing some new laws. New…marriage laws.”
Joyce’s stomach drops.
“Their response to the, uh, population drop is to pair off everyone of childbearing age, and mandate they produce a child within eighteen months of marriage,” Owens continues, and Joyce feels the nausea crawling up her throat. “There’s talk about blood testing for hormone levels and making birth control illegal and a whole bunch of other things.”
“Paired off?” Joyce manages to croak out, and Owens gives her a look that’s half-sympathy, half-displeasure.
“There will be a pool within towns,” he explains. “All unmarried people will be given a number, and paired off.”
“Is there…any way to avoid this?” Joyce asks, hoarse, and Owens clears his throat.
“If you have an intended marriage, you can avoid the pool. They’re expediting courtroom ceremonies for the next year,” he answers. “Do you mind if I speak frankly?”
Joyce nods, unable to speak, and he leans in closer, covering her hand with his own on the table between them.
“I noticed you selected single on your intake paperwork,” he starts, and Joyce flushes. “I don’t know what’s going on with you and the Chief, but it might be in your best interest if I change your paperwork to ‘intends to marry’, and have him say the same.”
“I’m…” Joyce trails off, head spinning. “But we aren’t even together.”
“I think once the Chief finds out about the mandate, there isn’t anyone else he’s gonna want to be paired with,” Owens tells her kindly, patting her hand with his fingertips. “Would you?”
The question sits like a stone in her belly as she leaves the hospital. Owens had told her the government was merely days away from passing the law, at the most a week, and she had that time to talk to Hopper, apply for a marriage license at the courthouse, and for them to figure out a cohabitation plan.
Before she even realizes it she’s on her way to Hopper’s cabin, driving on muscle memory as her mind wanders over what Owens had laid before her. The Blazer is parked outside when she arrives, and a smidgen of relief blooms in her chest. Parking the Pinto, she makes her way to the front door; El bursts through before she even has a chance to knock, wrapping her arms around Joyce’s waist.
“Hi,” the teenager says, and Joyce can’t help but smile down at her, stroking some loose hair out of El’s face.
“Hi. Is your dad home?” Joyce asks, and El nods, leading her by the hand inside. Hopper is in the kitchen, humming along to the radio, and something in Joyce’s stomach twists.
“Joyce is here!” El calls, and he shifts, looking over his shoulder and a smile blossoming on his face at the sight of her.
“Hey- did you tell me you were coming?” he asks, eyebrows knit together in confusion, and Joyce shakes her head.
“No, but, um- can I talk to you?” she asks, wringing her hands together nervously, and Hopper studies her for a moment before he nods, guiding her outside and shutting the door behind them.
“What’s wrong?” Hopper is instantly serious, looking at her with dark blue eyes, and Joyce swallows hard, trying to figure out how to word what she wants to say.
“You remember how you told me about the government trucks in Indianapolis?” she starts, and he nods, confused. “Well, I had that mandatory physical today, and it was with Owens.”
“Wait, Sam Owens? From the lab?” he confirms, and Joyce nods.
“Hop the government is gonna put a marriage law into effect within the next week,” she finally simply spits out, and Hopper’s eyes go wide. “Everyone of childbearing age will be put into a pool and paired off if they aren’t already planning to be married within the next month.”
“They can’t do that!” Hopper starts, and Joyce shrugs her shoulders.
“Owens said Congress has basically already signed it. It’s just a formality now- hence the government trucks,” there’s a helplessness to her voice, and Hopper’s hand is warm and steady when it cups her elbow. “He, uh- he changed my paperwork for me, after he saw that I had checked single off.”
Hopper’s eyebrows furrow further, and Joyce’s words get stuck in her throat.
“God, he didn’t- you’re marrying him?” he asks, something flashing in his expression, and Joyce instantly placed her hands on his chest, soothing him as she shook her head.
“No, no- Hop, he put me down as intending to marry you ,” she finally gets out, and Hopper freezes, looking down at her with an intense, heart-piercing look. “He told me to tell you to change your paperwork, before you go to your physical. That…this was the only way to not be paired off with someone unknown.”
She swallows hard, trying to offer a smile, but tears burn in the corners of her eyes.
“We…we have a week,” she clears her throat, gaze dropping to her toes. “To, um- apply for a marriage license, and figure out where we’re going to live. All five of us.”
“Joy…” Hopper trails off, and his fingers are so gentle when he cups her jaw. “I don’t want to force you to-”
Joyce cuts him off by pressing her fingers to his lips, shaking her head.
“I would rather it be you,” she whispers, fingers dropping to his collarbone. “If I only get this one choice- I want that choice to be you.”
He crushes her to him, holding her against him tightly, and she doesn’t even care that it’s humid and muggy; he smells like cigarettes and aftershave, and just below that the scent of clean sweat that seemed to cling to his skin. Joyce shuts her eyes, holding the back of his shirt in tight fists as she presses against him.
“We’re gonna figure this out,” Hopper whispers into her hair. “I promise, Joyce.”
_
Eight days later, the marriage and procreation laws were passed: couples were encouraged to produce two children over the span of five years, though only one was required within eighteen months of marriage. If a child could not be produced, further testing would be done to ensure both parties were still viable- if one was and the other wasn’t, a divorce would be considered and a new pairing for the fertile partner would be pursued.
Joyce watches the news with her heart in her throat, and was grateful that her sons, at least, weren’t old enough to be touched by it.
She hasn’t figured out a good way to tell them about her and Hopper’s arrangement. She knows, deep down, that this was better than a strange man- or worse, a man she knew and despised- coming into their lives. But a part of her had always hoped if she was marrying Hopper, it would be for love.
Neither of their homes were big enough for a family of five- or a family of six or seven , her brain supplies when she thinks about the second half of the mandate- so Hopper had told her he’d start looking at houses that could fit their family. She’d allowed it because she knew he had family money- it hadn’t been a secret when they’d been in high school, and for once she’s grateful to not have to think about it.
Hopper had told her he’d already filed the license with the courts, and they’d been given a date: July 3rd, at 3 pm. It’s a Tuesday, which strikes her as the oddest day of the week to get married, but it’s what they’d been handed.
She’d also been told she could no longer take her birth control; the pharmacy would no longer fill it, or even stock the medication, and starting in six weeks she’d need to go in biweekly to have her blood tested. It feels like a violation, but there’s nothing she can do; she decides to at least finish out the pack she had, the most rebellion she can allow herself.
“We gotta tell the kids,” Hopper’s quiet during their shared lunch break, about two weeks before their wedding date. Joyce swallows the bite of sandwich in her mouth before it turns to sand, and nods.
“I know. I just…don’t know how,” she confesses, and Hopper’s hand covers her, squeezing gently.
“Well…I found a couple options for houses,” he tells her, and she tries her hardest to not look like she wants the ground to swallow her whole. “There’s a five bedroom over on Arbor that only needs a little bit of work; it has a finished basement and a master bathroom so we wouldn’t have to share with the kids.”
“It sounds really nice, Hop,” Joyce curls her fingers around his, finding she needed the stability. “I’ve never lived that close to town before, you know.”
“I hate being so close to the Wheeler’s, truth be told, but it’ll be good for the kids to be near their friends,” he says, and Joyce nods. “Would you…wanna go see it with me? After work, maybe?”
Joyce can feel how hard he’s trying, and her heart twists in her chest. He hadn’t asked for this anymore than she had- and he’d already gone through the pain of losing a child. She couldn’t imagine what was going through his mind.
“Yeah, Hop. That’d be nice,” she answers, and the little half-smile his lips curl into loosens something in her chest.
And the house is gorgeous. It’s a Cap Cod style, built about twenty five years prior; it has a nice lawn, and white trim with black shutters. Joyce can see where the roof will need to be replaced, but Hopper assures her it’s an easy fix.
Inside, the living room is spacious, and there’s a half-wall that separates it from the kitchen, which is bigger than half of Joyce’s home. The dining room is across from the kitchen, the stairs leading up to the bedrooms cutting the bottom floor in half. The upstairs is decently spread out, with two bedrooms and a bathroom on one side, three bedrooms including the master on the other.
“I really like it, Hop,” Joyce tells him as they stand in the master bedroom- it’s bigger than her living room, and she can’t help but feel small. “Can we afford this?”
“I already talked to the bank, if we agree to fix it up, they’ll give us a percentage off,” he tells her, and Joyce’s eyes widen in pleasant surprise. “And with the savings I have from my dad, we can put a decent amount down.”
“Hopper, I feel bad that-” Joyce starts, and Hopper is already shaking his head, hands gripping her shoulders.
“Joyce- I don’t want you to feel bad about anything,” he says, voice firm. “I know this isn’t either of our first choices. But this way our kids have a home. That’s what matters to me.”
Joyce can’t help the little flip her heart gives at his use of our in reference to their children- only to be reminded that beyond sharing their grown children, there would likely be children they made together in the picture too. A war starts between her head and her heart, and she stuffs the feeling down deep inside her.
“I…guess we should tell the kids now, huh?” she asks, and Hopper nods, taking a breath.
“I’ll bring El over and we’ll tell them over dinner?” he suggests, and she nods. “Okay. See you soon.”
The boys had long stopped being surprised by Hopper and El appearing for dinner, so when they settle at the table, Will and El are already mid conversation about something that had happened at the pool. Joyce meets Hopper’s gaze at the other end of the table, and at his encouraging little nod, she takes a breath before speaking.
“Hey- hey guys,” Joyce gets the kids’ attention, and shifts in her seat a little. “I know you guys have heard about what’s happening in the news.”
Three solemn nods are their responses, and Joyce tries hard to offer them a small smile.
“Well, Hopper and I made the decision to get married, rather than risk being put into the pool,” she tells them, and three sets of eyes widen before they all start launching questions at her.
“Where are we going to live?”
“You two have been dating?!”
“Do we have to change our name?”
There’s a flurry of noise, and Hopper lets out a sharp whistle, corralling them into silence.
“We found a house big enough for all of us,” Hopper answers El’s question. “It’s easier than trying to squeeze everyone into one of our current places, and you’ll be closer to your friends.”
“We have not been dating- I promise, we weren’t hiding anything for you,” Joyce assures them. “But we know each other, and trust one another. It’s better than being put with two people we don’t know. And no, boys- you do not have to change your names.”
“Are you changing your name, Mom?” Will asks, and Joyce doesn’t have an answer to that.
“I…don’t know yet, sweetie,” she tells him honestly.
“When are you getting married?” El asks, and Hopper is the one to answer.
“The 3rd.”
“That’s in two weeks!” Jonathan’s eyes are wide, and Joyce nods.
“It had to be fast, given the law,” she explains. “But everything is gonna be fine, you guys. I promise. We’re going to be a family, no matter what.”
Her boys look like they have more questions, but it’s El that takes her hand, linking their fingers together before reaching for Hopper’s and doing the same.
“A family,” she repeats, and something about it soothes the ache in Joyce’s chest. She smiles, stroking El’s hair out of her face as she nods.
_
They move into their new house two days before Joyce and Hopper are set to be married, thanks to the realtors expediting it.
They’d each helped the other pack, and the kids' friends had been shockingly helpful; Harrington had offered his car, which they’d used to shuttle boxes back and forth. It’s a long Sunday of driving, unpacking, and rearranging- but by the time the sun sets, all of the beds had been built, the kitchen had been fully unpacked thanks to Nancy and Robin, and the kids uncovered at least one pair of pajamas to wear to bed.
It isn’t until they’re going up the stairs to their room that Joyce realizes she and Hopper now shared a bed, and her stomach somersaults in on itself.
“I’ll change in the bathroom,” Hopper says once the door is shut behind them, and Joyce catches his arm before he can leave the room, halting him.
“You…don’t have to,” she whispers. “We’re going to be married in two days, Hopper. We’re…expected to have a child. We should get used to this.”
“Joyce,” Hopper’s palm cups her chin, tilting her head up until she meets his gaze. “Until you explicitly ask me to touch you, married or not, I won’t. I won’t force you to do anything.”
The conviction of his words thrums through her, and Joyce swallows hard before she nods. Hopper drops his grip on her chin, and scoops up his pajama pants from where they’re draped over a box. He disappears into the bathroom, leaving Joyce alone with her thoughts, body still humming from his touch.
They fall asleep on opposite ends of the bed, but when Joyce wakes she’s wrapped in Hopper’s arms, head snug against his chest. His soft snores rumble in her ear, and she’s so comfortable she feels weightless.
She slips from the bed before he wakes.
_
Tuesday dawns bright and sunny, and Joyce feels a little like the world is mocking her.
She’d expected it to just be her and Hopper at the courthouse, but the kids insist on joining them- El had even picked out a dress for the occasion, and Joyce didn’t have the heart to tell her no. The teenager helps her get ready- she’d unearthed a green dress from the back of her closet that she hadn’t worn in years, pairing it with a pair of low black heels, and she curls her hair as best she can with her old curler.
“Pretty,” El tells her when she’s finished swiping a soft pink lipstick over her mouth, and Joyce smiles at her in the mirror. She finds a pair of earrings in her jewelry box, slipping them into her ears, and then stands, taking a deep breath as she studied herself in the mirror.
They drive together, to the courthouse, the boys and El in the back of the Blazer and Joyce and Hopper up front.
“You look really nice,” Hopper tells her quietly just as they park, and Joyce feels her cheeks flush. She reaches over, smoothing down the corner of his mustache, and cups his cheek in her palm.
“So do you,” she murmurs, and the look on his face makes her stomach clench, warmth pooling. She leans in, kissing his cheek softly, rubbing her thumb over the trace of lipstick that remains. “Come on. Let’s get married.”
Joyce taps her foot as they wait, unable to quell her anxiety, and Hopper takes her hand in his, entwining their fingers and holding on tight. It does ease something in her, to hold his hand and know that even though everything felt upside, she still had him. El takes her other hand, resting her head on Joyce’s shoulder, and Joyce takes a deep breath, counting her heartbeats.
“Hopper-Byers wedding?” is called, and together the group follows the woman into the courtroom, where a judge is waiting. The kids cluster around behind them as Joyce and Hopper stand before the judge, and Joyce keeps her grip on Hopper’s hand as he reads off the standard vows.
She tries to stay focused and present, using Hopper’s grip on her hands to ground herself. The words flow around her, and it’s all she can do to repeat what she’s supposed to, when she’s supposed to.
“Are there rings?” the judge asks, and before Joyce can say no, Jonathan is stepping forward, reaching into his pocket. He pulls out two gold rings, and places them in Hopper’s hand, squeezing his mom’s shoulder before he steps back. Hopper places the thicker ring in the center of Joyce’s palm, curling her fingers around it, and she tilts her head at him, questions on the tip of her tongue. “Perfect- Joyce, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”
“I do,” she manages to say, the weight of the ring in her hand heavier than she expects.
“Then repeat after me: with this ring, I thee wed.”
Joyce slips the ring onto Hopper’s left ring finger, twisting it once it slips past his knuckle, and squeezing lightly. “With this ring, I thee wed.”
She meets Hopper’s eyes, and finds them slightly damp. She smiles, warmth suffusing through her chest, and squeezes his hands in hers.
“Alright, Chief- you’re up,” the judge says, and Hopper’s lips curl into a grin. “Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?”
“I do,” there’s a proud note in his voice, and Joyce feels her cheeks flush.
“Repeat after me: with this ring, I thee wed,” the judge says, nodding to them; Hopper takes her hand in his, gently slipping the ring onto her finger. It’s a perfect fit, and doesn’t feel like the lead weight Joyce had been expecting. It feels…right.
“With this ring,” Hopper says, eyes locked with hers. “I thee wed.”
“Well, by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride, Chief,” the judge says, closing his book. Joyce’s stomach plummets because truthfully she hadn’t even been thinking about the kiss- but Hopper’s hand is gentle against her jaw, pulling her in as he ducked his head until his mouth met hers. The kiss is soft, so soft it makes her heart throb, and she can’t help but lean into it, eyes sinking shut.
When he pulls away, Joyce’s eyes find his; they’re soft and warm, and she could almost get lost in them- but the judge clears his throat, and points to where they need to sign. All in all, it takes less than twenty minutes, and when they leave the courthouse, they’re married.
Joyce stares at the ring on her hand the entire drive home, and knows the easiest part is over.