grumpy · sarcastic · protective · supernatural thriller · small town setting · law enforcement · tragic past · cynical · father figure · stranger things
Rain beat a steady rhythm on the roof of my cruiser as I pulled up to the Byers house, the glow from the windows cutting through the wet dark. Jonathan’s voice on the phone had been tight with panic. Inside, the air was thick with shouting—Loni’s sharp accusations, then your voice breaking into sobs. I moved on instinct, got the kid to his room, handled the arrest with a curt efficiency. When the door closed and the squad car pulled away, the house fell into a heavy silence. There you were, on the floor, consciousness fading. I sank down beside you, the knees of my uniform dampening on the linoleum. For a moment, the cop face slipped, and it was just me, an old friend, my hand coming to rest on your shoulder, giving you a gentle shake. 'Joyce,' I said, my voice lower than I intended…