Chapter Text
Joyce marched through the snow, bundled tight in her jacket. The snowflakes fell heavily, sticking her clothes and eyelashes. Her cheeks burned from the freezing air, and she held tight to her chest a Christmas gift wrapped in a plastic bag to keep it dry, the colorful green wrapping paper occasionally catching the moonlight just right. The cold seeped through the thin coat, chilling her almost to the bone. The forest was quiet, only the sound of her feet across the frozen land breaking the silence.
"Henry?" She called out when she made it to the cave. Wind swept off of Lover's Lake, causing her to shiver as the temperatures dropped even further. Was Indiana even supposed to be this cold in the winter? It'd never been like this in the past. She couldn't even imagine how cold he must be.
"Joyce?" A familiar voice called back to her. She sagged in relief, knowing he was still safe.
"Don't take so long to answer," she replied. "You scared me for a second."
"Sorry," the boy emerged from the cave. "I was a little... spaced out." The was dwarfed by the large coat that Joyce had found at a thrift store for a low price. A hat, made by her own mother for Joyce, sat upon his head. Her friend would have looked kind of adorable if it weren't for his hauntingly pale complexion.
"I got you something," Joyce held out the bag with the present, something pulling in her chest at the sight of how plain-looking it was. To her delight, Henry's eyes lit up.
"You really didn't have to," he insisted, but still took the box from the bag. "You're doing enough already."
"Just open it," Joyce rolled her eyes with a smile, happy he didn't point out the cheap paper. The other tore into the wrapping paper, careful to put it all back into the bag once he was done. When he saw what it was, he broke out into a grin.
"Someone in the Dark!" He cried. "How'd you know I wanted it?"
"When I was talking about the new releases, it was the one you asked the most questions about," she explained. "Also, it seemed like your style." Henry flipped through the pages reverently. Joyce was glad to see he enjoyed it. It cost her two dollars.
"Plus," she added. "Thought you'd rather read some new fictional stories rather than just those boring old papers." Joyce would be able to snag Henry books occasionally, but it was easier to grab him newspapers to catch him up on the things going on around town and beyond.
"Thank you," he breathed. "Not just for the book."
"I know," Joyce replied. "You say that every time I come visit. You don't have to thank me."
Joyce had been visiting Henry in the cave every couple of days for around four months. He'd been scared out of his mind when she'd first hid him there, but he'd settled in nicely since then. She wasn't sure why he didn't just leave town, and had even tried suggesting it a couple of times, but he'd always change the subject, so she eventually let it go.
"Yes, I do," he insisted, face falling. "If anyone finds out you did this for me... you'd be in jail for the rest of your life."
"I don't care," Joyce shook her head. "People like us have got to stick together, right?" That brought a small smile back. Suddenly, Joyce let out another severe shiver.
"You should go," Henry told her. "It's too cold for you."
"What about you?"
"Can barely feel it. It's fine, Joyce."
"Alright, I'll see you tomorrow, okay? You're all good for food?"
"I'm sure there's still some... deer about," he shrugged, a bit uncomfortably. "Don't worry about me."
"Okay. Bye, Henry."
"Bye."
Joyce turned away from her friend and began the trek back to her house. The story of how all of this had come to be was a difficult one, and it started all the way back in August.
August 25th, 1955
Joyce had decided that magic was hard. She'd also decided it was even harder when your mother was looking at you expectantly, waiting for you to screw up.
"I don't understand why I have to do this right now," Joyce said.
"Because," Marie Maldonado replied, "I want to see your progress."
"I don't have progress, Mom," Joyce complained. "You won't let me practice at all." At fourteen years old, very early for a witch, Joyce had just barely come into her magic and her mother had already pounded rules into her.
"In public," her mother argued. "Practice all you want at home, just don't go galivanting about town and rousing those fat heads till they come breaking down our doors."
"Well obviously I wouldn't do that!" She cried. "I'm not stupid."
"Anything, sweetheart," Marie encouraged her. "Just try to do anything." Joyce huffed and then took a deep breath in. Anything. Anything at all. Holding her hands in a cup shape, she focused on imagining a light source. A little ball of light that would hover around her hands. She drew from her core, where she could feel magic lightly stirring and tried to coax it out. When she opened her eyes, a tiny ball of light, much smaller than she'd been aimer for but still good enough, had formed. It let off a soft yellow, almost light golden, glow.
"I did it!" She cried. At her outburst though, the light faded in a blink. "Damn."
"Well it's something," Marie huffed. "Work at it for a bit in here until I get back from the supermarket." She stood from the table and started heading towards the door.
"You're leaving? Just like that?"
"Do you want to eat this week? If yes, then practice until I get home. I'll only be an hour." That meant she'd be three. She'd spend most of the time chatting with her old friends at the store, and she'd probably stop by Grandma's house on the way home, like she always did.
"Fine," Joyce sighed. "Love you." Her mother left without a word.
After a minute of contemplation, Joyce decided to go outside. She knew her mother said to practice inside, but she wanted to take advantage of the last weeks of summer to be in the sun. She could practice outside, where her house and the woods would hide her, and her mother would be none the wiser. She opened the backdoor of her house and basked in the sunlight and warmth. She loved summer.
Crack
Joyce's head whipped towards the woods as the bushes rustled and something came tumbling out, hitting the ground hard. It was covered in blood.
"Don't scream!" He cried when got his bearings and looked up. Joyce clapped a hand over her mouth right as she recognized who it was. He stood up shakily, arms wrapped around himself.
"I-I didn't know where else to go."
"Henry," she breathed, "what the hell happened?" Tears swam in his eyes.
"I didn't mean to," he stammered. "I didn't want to, but I was so hungry Joyce." Henry had always been sensitive, the new at the time, shy kid who lived in the large house up on Morehead Street. Joyce, out of curiosity, had befriended him in seventh grade and they'd been close for three years.
"What did you do?" She whispered in horror. "Henry, what did you do?" The sobs ripped from his throat now as he tried to stutter out a reply.
"Last w-week," he began, "I got attacked b-by some guy in th-the woods near my house. He bit me and it h-hurt so bad. After, I'd changed. I d-don't know what's wrong w-with me, but I can't eat anything. I get s-sick. My m-mom was making lunch t-today, and... and she cut herself of the knife. Next thing I-I knew, she and my sister were dead and my dad w-was gone. I'm c-covered in blood, Joyce. I killed them." He collapsed into tears.
"Oh god," Joyce muttered fearfully. "Um, okay, we have to get you out of here."
"What?"
"The cops, Henry. The cops will try to find you. You need to leave."
"I've got nowhere to go!" He cried. "Don't send me away, please!"
"I'm not, okay," Joyce started to plan on the spot. "There's a cave, down by Lovers Lake. Go to the base of the lake, and follow the shore left until you find it. You get to it, wash off in the water, and meet me there, okay?" Henry nodded weakly before turning around and disappearing into the woods as a blur of color, faster than a human being should be able to move.
Present Day
And that was that. They'd figured out Henry was a vampire not long after, and Joyce had told him about her magic not long after that. For four months she'd been harboring him in that cave, bringing him books and other supplies to keep him occupied. She didn't have to bring him food, since he drank blood, so he just hunted for animals himself. She wasn't sure how, but she didn't want to know.
She didn't know why she'd protected him; it had just come as her first instinct. If anything, she was glad she did. It gave her someone to talk to, and something to look forward to. He understood in a way no one else at school ever could. There was this... alienation between her and her classmates, even if they didn't see it. She was constantly scared someone would figure that out, her nerves labelling her as "the anxious girl" or "the crazy chick", if they were bold enough to say it.
Once she'd made it to the road and began to walk down the side of it, snow crinkling pleasantly beneath her boots. she saw someone in the distance. Recognizing the figure leaning against a tree, a cigarette pressed to his lips, she leaped into the tree line to hide.
Jim Hopper. He went to school with her, and Henry before he disappeared, and she'd like to say she was pretty close with him. It wasn't like her and Henry, she didn't hang out with Jim, but they'd talk. He'd give her a smoke. She'd admire him from afar. Her face turned red, not just from the cold.
What was he doing all the way out here? Just for a smoke? He could have done that anywhere in town and no one would have batted an eye this late, or at any time really. She peeked around the tree again to get a glimpse and confirmed it. It was definitely Jim. Both his breath and smoke danced in the cold night air
Suddenly, a white Department of Energy truck rolled it's way down the road, stopping next to him. Jim straightened up, taking a cautious step back as he shouted something unintelligible to the driver. The back doors of the van kicked open as men in dark suits hopped out and grabbed Jim, who struggled against them. He suddenly turned grey, wings sprouting from his back and horns curling from his head as he shook off the attackers.
More men poured from the van. Joyce watched in horror as the men used some kind of metal to restrain Jim threw him into the back of the truck and sped off, they're tires screeching against the road.
"Shit," she swore. "Shit. Shit. Shit!" Scared out of her mind, Joyce did the only thing she could think of. She ran. She ran down the road all the way back to her house, slipping inside the window she'd left open and tumbling into her bed. Thankfully, her parents were heavy sleepers. Joyce began to pace back and forth. What to do? Call the police? No. Whatever Jim had done to try and stop them was supernatural, so the police wouldn't be of any help. If anything, it'd only hurt Jim in the long run.
Calm down. There's nothing you can do tonight. It's too late, in both senses. With a sigh, Joyce changed into her pajamas and tucked herself into bed, hoping that with some sleep she'd be able to come up with a clearer plan the next morning. She couldn't just leave Jim to fend for himself, but she also couldn't do anything about it right now, and certainly not from her bedroom. She'd come up with a plan in the morning.
-----
Iron was stupid. It hurt like hell. Completely unfair in Jim's opinion. The handcuffs chewed at his wrists while this weird bag over his head preventing him from seeing and somehow burnt his face whenever the van jostled. He'd been gagged as well after being forced to lock the beast away, so he couldn't even try to talk to the people who'd lifted him off of the road in the middle of the night. He'd been trying to track the amount of turns and stops the van made so he could try to estimate where he was, but he kept getting distracted by his burning wrists and stupidly bumpy roads. Seriously, they should get these repaved. The gag in his mouth tasted awful, like a mix of motor oil and salt. He shivered to even think where it had been before now.
"Do we know what the kid is?" One of his kidnappers said gruffly.
"Some type of iron-weak SN," another responded. "We're thinking, like, Class 4 maybe? Class 3?"
"What SNs are weak to iron?"
"Did you not pay attention at all during training? Gargoyles, fae, pixies, sirens, those types of SN. Mythicals." What the hell were these guys talking about?
"Did you make that up right now?"
"Yeah. Mythicals, Magicals, Monsters. Like subclasses." The first kidnapper scoffed and the two fell silent. Suddenly, the van rolled to a stop somewhere and Jim was dragged to his feet before being roughly tossed out of the back, hitting the ground with a thud. The snow was cold and wet.
"Please treat the cargo with respect," a different voice drawled. Jim was then brought to his feet again and led forward. He knew he'd entered a building when he floor texture changed and the heating hit his arms. While all of this was happening, he'd been fiddling with his cuffs. They kept burning him though, so he hadn't been able to figure a way to get them off. They stopped moving and he heard the click of a button before the floor jolted and started to descend. He didn't know how far the elevator went before the doors slid open once again and he was once again marched through whatever halls they had down here.
"What room?" A kidnapper asked.
"Room 1, G Sector," the one who'd asked them not to toss him around said. The first person paused.
"...which one is that?"
"Jesus, Thomas. How stupid are you?" The smart kidnapper replied. The nice kidnapper sighed and the stupid kidnapper shouted in protest.
"I'm not stupid!"
"Sure..."
Eventually they stopped and the burning bag was removed from Jim's face as he was shoved into a small room, the door slamming shut behind him. They'd also removed his irritating handcuffs, so he quickly dispelled of his gag. Scanning the room, it was clear it was a cell of some kind. There was a bed with a thin mattress next to a small table, a toilet and sink with a curtain that could be drawn around them, a bar on the wall that held a rack of white jumpsuits, and what seemed to a be a minimal First Aid kit. The jumpsuits on the racks, upon further inspection, were stitched with G on the left shoulder and chest. A security camera also blinked in the corner.
"Hey, assholes!" Jim yelled at the door. "What the hell is this? Where am I?" He was met with no answer. Shit, was this because of his stone monster? He didn't let that beast out very often, and never in front of other people, so how had they found him? He ran his hands through his hair frustratedly and let out a shaky breath.
Would anyone look for him? He hoped so. Then again, he wouldn't put it past them to assume he ran away. How long would he be down here? What would they do to him? Were they going to kill him? He took a deep breath and tried to shake those thoughts; they wouldn't help. State the facts.
He was likely underground, taken by an organized group of at least three that is very likely working for some higher organization. They knew about his beast, mainly due to him trying to use it to defend himself, and it was safe to assume that was why he had been captured. Nobody knew he had been taken, since he'd been alone out for a smoke last night. He'd gone out pretty far away from his house unfortunately, wanting the peace and quiet to observe the woods. He was probably going to try something with the stone monster afterwards as well, so maybe they'd somehow sensed that? It didn't make much sense.
Letting out a sigh, Jim slumped onto the extremely uncomfortable mattress. There wasn't much to go on, and he had no plan on how to get himself out of this. So, since it was all he could really do, he gave the finger to the camera and turned himself to face the wall.