I know I only posted yesterday but I'm going away this weekend so wasn't sure how much writing I'd get done so really wanted to get this chapter done and posted so apologies that it's not as long as I had hoped. Hope you enjoy this chapter, title is taken from 'Unchained Melody' by the Righteous Brothers cause hey you can't go wrong with a classic!

Chapter 2

That evening, Hopper was sitting in his room listening to 'Walk Don't Run' by the Ventures for what felt like the fifteenth time, trying to dull out the sound of his parents drunkenly slow dancing in the front room. Since his father had bought the auto shop, things had been a lot happier in the Hopper household. It felt like they'd been celebrating their success every night for the past year, most nights ending like they did tonight, his parents having one too many glasses of wine and gushing over each other. As damaging as it was to Hopper's 'image', he couldn't help but enjoy this peaceful serenity that had taken over their lives.

But Hopper would never forget what their lives had been before. He wouldn't forget the nights his father drank whiskey rather than wine. He wouldn't forget his father spitting at Jim how much of a disappointment he was. He wouldn't forget his father teaching him how to fight in one way or another. He wouldn't forget his mother crying herself to sleep most nights when she hadn't drank herself to the point of unconsciousness. He remembered all of it. And there was no amount of success or money or laughs that could erase it all from Jim's memory.

In the midst of the music and laughter, Hopper heard a soft knock on the front door of the house. It appeared his parents had heard it too, as the music ceased to play and the sound of his mother's kitten heels clicking against the wooden hallway leading to the front door could be heard from Jim's room. As curious as he was, Jim rolled over his bed and gently removed the needle from record player so he could listen to whoever it was that was at the door.

He couldn't make out his mother's words but she spoke in a high pitched excited voice that Jim rarely heard. His interest peaked and Jim made his way out of his bedroom door to go see who it was.

His heart leapt when he caught sight of Joyce standing in the door way smiling kindly at his mother.

"Jim look who it is!" Mrs Hopper announced waving an arm at Joyce who gave a small smile wave.

"Hey, Hop," Joyce said quietly, almost nervously.

Jim didn't realise the rather large smile on his face until he started speaking. "Joyce, hey! Um," he found himself stuttering. "What—eh, what um, what're you doing here?" he put a hand round the back of his neck and rubbed it, suddenly very aware of his hands and unsure what to do with them.

"Joyce here came to see if you two wanted to go and catch up? Isn't that sweet?" Mrs Hopper beamed at Jim. His mother had always been fond of Joyce, their mothers had been friends in high school and his mother had gone round to her house every day with Jim after her mother died.

Jim's smile couldn't help but grow. "Yeah sure, I'll just grab my jacket," Jim gestured behind him like an idiot and practically ran to grab his jacket. While it was still summer, the nights still tended to get cold. He'd noticed Joyce was wearing practically the same outfit from earlier in the day except now she donned a grey sweater rather than the stripped top she had been wearing. As he took his coat from his room, he couldn't help but stop and fix his hair in the mirror before darting out.

When he came out, Joyce and Mrs Hopper were chatting pleasantly and quietly. When he stepped into Joyce's eye view her eyes shone up at him and she smiled. "Shall we?" she nodded to the door and Jim could only nod in return as he rushed out the house after Joyce, his mother shouting behind him to be back before eleven.

When they were far enough away from the house, Jim finally spoke.

"Hey, so umm, sorry about being weird earlier," he was rubbing his neck with nerves again. He stole a glance at Joyce, so tiny in height compared to him. She was staring straight ahead with a content expression on her face. "I just wasn't expecting to see you and let's be honest you look a lot dif-"

"Hop, it's fine don't sweat I totally get it," Joyce looked up at him with a reassuring smile and Hopper felt a rush of relief flow over him.

They were silent for a bit as they walked along the street. It wasn't quite dark yet, still relatively bright out but the street lamps were lit and the street deserted and quiet. It looked almost nice.

"So how have you been anyway? How was Chicago?" Jim asked a bit quicker and enthusiastically than he would of liked.

Joyce nodded, a small smile on her lips like she was amused with the way Jim anxiously had asked her. "Chicago was good. I really loved being in the city, a lot of cool people and music, but," she took a deep sigh as she looked around her and crossed her arms across her chest, shrugging. "There's just something about home, y'know?" she gave him a look like she expected an answer but didn't expect him to say anything. He nodded silently in agreement. "And what about you? I see your dad owns the auto shop now," she asked as though it was ten times more exciting than it actually was.

"Yeah, he's real proud of it," Jim nodded. He knew Joyce remembered how things had been in his family before she left, but he knew she didn't want to pry so she wouldn't say anything.

Instead she smiled, almost to herself. "I'm still kinda disappointed he didn't rename it as the 'auto hop'," she let out a small laugh.

Jim snorted at her awful joke and he nudged her playfully. "That was terrible and you know it," he chuckled.

Joyce let out a bigger laugh this time at the sound of Hopper's deep laugh. "Yeah it was pretty dreadful, I'll admit." As they walked along, Jim pulled out his pack of cigarettes and offered her one. With wide surprised eyes, Joyce accepted and watched in bewilderment as Hopper took one for himself and placed it in his mouth. "Well Jim Hopper!" she proclaimed, completely aghast. "I didn't know you smoke!"

Jim smirked as he pulled out his lighter and sparked up his cigarette before passing the lighter to Joyce. "Well, what can I say, there's a lot you don't know about me now," he said, almost jokingly.

Joyce lit up and exhaled a small cloud of smoke. "Yeah, well who's fault is that now?"

Jim felt his throat tighten and his stomach churn, her accusation piercing him. "Joyce, I…"

"Relax Hop!" she laughed cheerfully. "I'm just busting your balls man!" she lightly punched his bicep and Jim looked at her, rather confused. As she walked in front of him and turned to face him, walking backwards Jim took a moment to see how much she'd really changed. This Joyce wasn't the same quiet, bookish, shy girl he'd known way back when. This Joyce seemed confident, playful and overall happier.

She grinned at him for a moment before reading his expression. "Jeez, what's up with you, when did you get so tense?" she raised her brows at him.

He smiled at that and shook his head. "It's nothing, it's just…" he trailed off for a second. "You seem different, Joyce," he told her honestly.

She looked away as if in thought before staring at the ground in front of her and shrugged. "Well, what can I say, a lot can happen in a year, Hop," she brushed it off casually.

"Yeah you're telling me," he raised his eyebrows in agreement before taking another draw of his cigarette.

She came back round to his side. "But not you, Hop. You haven't changed," he could hear the smile in her voice. "You're still the same old brooding hardass I once knew."

As they walked they came to the clearing by the lake. Joyce had been here before and he caught her staring out at the water fondly. The pair used to swim there as kids in the summer. One day they'd made their own tire swing when they were twelve. It turned out to be rather terrible construction of their part and Jim had gone flying and broken his arm. After he'd finished screaming and crying to Joyce in pain, he'd made her promise not to tell people he'd cried. Joyce had agreed and kept his secret. God forbid people knew Jim Hopper had feelings.

Joyce perched herself on the rock by the lakeside where he and Benny had sat just the day before. She brought her knees up to her chin and Hopper sat down across from her, stretching his legs out in front of him. He slyly watched as Joyce looked ahead of her, a small, remembering smile playing on her lips when suddenly something came across her mind and she looked at Hopper, all wide eyed again.

"Although there is something about you that has changed," she observed taking a drag thoughtfully.

He raised a questioning brow at her. "Oh really? And what would that be?"

She snorted. "Since when did you start dating that total square, Chrissy Carpenter?!"

He had to laugh at that. Joyce and Jim, always the outcasts. "That is a pretty new development," he laughed, pulling his heels back and crossing his arms over his now elevated knees. "She's not as awful as you'd think," he said half-heartedly.

Joyce made an unconvinced scoff but Jim didn't dare defend himself. After a moment, Joyce appeared to have worked up the courage to ask her next question. "So is she your first then?" she looked up at him through long lashes.

"First what?"

"Don't be coy now, Hop," she almost groaned. He was really going to make her say it. "Your first sexual partner."

Jim smiled triumphantly as Joyce made a uncomfortable expression as the words left her mouth. He raised his eyes then. "No actually," Jim admitted, almost sheepishly. "It was actually Brenda, then Susan, then Linda, and then Chrissy," he looked away, a small blush rising to his cheeks as he took a small drag of his cigarette before stubbing it out.

Joyce's jaw practically dropped to the floor and her eyes grew bigger. "Fuck, Hop," she sighed, shaking her head before amusingly smirking at him. "You've been busy," she gestured at him with her cigarette before she too discarded hers.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah.." Jim muttered, his eyes shining before turning his head back to Joyce. "What about you? You still gonna be having a white wedding?"

Joyce shook her head, embarrassed and stared at her hands. "No, actually," she said, instantly surprising Jim. "There was this guy in Chicago, we dated for a while but it didn't last long. But long enough, y'know."

Jim didn't expect the unfamiliar and unwanted feelings to wash over him but nevertheless they did. He felt anger, disappointment, envy… He cursed himself internally. Hopper felt jealous. Jealousy toward some random guy in Chicago he'd never met but now wanted to punch him for even touching Joyce.

His Joyce.

Hopper pushed the dangerous thought to the back of his head and quickly changed the subject.

"So you suppose this is you back in Hawkins then? For good then," he asked almost hopeful.

She smirked at him, her brown eyes sparkled at him in the arriving moonlight. "Careful, Jim, you almost sounded like you missed me for a second there," she gave him a mischievous look there that almost sent his heart flying out his chest.

Get it together, Jim.

"So what if I did, Joyce?" he shrugged nonchalantly before he smiled at her. "I did miss you," he admitted, besides lying was something he never easily could do to her.

"But not enough to write to me…" Joyce said quietly, a hint of sadness in her tone that chipped away at his heart. "Why didn't you write me, Hop? I'm not mad, I just…" she trailed off again. "Why didn't you?"

Jim sighed, he'd known this was coming and he still wasn't sure if he could give her a straight answer. "Honestly," Jim began before sighing. "I don't really know. I wanted to write you but every time I sat down to, I just…" he looked away from her then, the expecting look in her eyes too much for him. "I wanted to tell you everything, everything that happened to me but… it just wouldn't have been the same. I just wanted to be talking to you, not writing," he looked back at her and saw her staring at her hands again. "It was selfish of me, I'm sorry."

She looked up at him then, he expected to see those same glassy eyes he'd seen whenever she was sad or upset but there was none. Instead she got up unexpectedly and sat down next to him and put her hand over his, gazing at him with kind eyes that made him catch his breath ever so quietly.

"Well," she shrugged again. "I'm here now," she turned her lips up into a calming smile. "So what's been going on?"

The pair sat like that for hours, smoking cigarettes and sharing stories of their year apart. Jim talked about the auto shop, his fights, him and Benny's regular shenanigans with teachers and such. Joyce talked about the wonders of the city, of the friends she'd made and her aunt Darlene introducing her to all kinds of new music. They could've sat there for even longer, laughing and catching up before Joyce let out a sleepy yawn and rested her head on his shoulder.

He stood up then and pulled her up by her hands, deciding the time was now to walk her home. They shared a cigarette en route and chatted a bit more before they reached Joyce's driveway on Old Cherry Road. As they said their goodbyes, Joyce stood up on her tiptoes and wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close.

Jim had hesitated for a moment before wrapping his arms tightly around her. They had never been like this. There was something differently intimate about the way they were holding each other. For some reason, they held each other tighter than either of them had the day Joyce had left for Chicago. He turned his head and bent down to bury his nose in the nape of her neck, smelling her hair. She smelled of cigarettes and fruity shampoo and it instantly sent warmth through him, a warmth he could've sworn he'd never felt before. As they broke apart with Joyce pulling away, she murmured a 'goodnight, Hop' to him before heading inside.

As Jim walked home, kicking a stone along the way as he went, he thought to himself that a lot really had changed in a year. And when he got home and into his bed, he fell asleep smiling.