Okay so — time for Stranger Things' Headcanon: dad Jim Hopper edition.
James "Jim" Hopper was born around 1941/42, follow me on this. He went to school with Joyce, same year, right? And we know they are around 40 in Season 1 — it's 1981/82.
Let's say he left for Vietnam right out of high school, he's barely 18, just a boy. But he spends five of the worst years of his life fighting in a foreign country, breathing shit and stuff. He's 22 when he comes back — 1964.
Joyce gets married the same year, to Lonnie. They are definitely not going to be happy, and Jim knows that. They have been friends, good friends years before. So, he's not really surprised to find about his old friend unhappy marriage. They spend and awful lot of time talking about that, but there's nothing she can do, come on — she's a young woman, just married and even though she fights her husband every day she still believes there's something that may be saved. That's when she gets pregnant with Jonathan — 1966.
Jim is 24, he just started into Hawkins Police and damn, the uniform dresses him good. Chicks look at him, and he likes that, he can't deny. At the same time, things for Joyce keep getting harder.
Things go slowly and difficult, and even boring sometimes. Nothing really ever happens in Hawkins. And people talk — better saving the appreance, right?
It's 1967 when, one summer night, Joyce is exhausted. Lonnie hasn't come back yet, and she knows she won't see him before Monday night, that's just how her weekends usually go. She's lonely, and tired, Jonathan is finally sleeping and she need a break. Jim calls to check on her, just to say hi or something. She invites him over. "God, I need a beer and a cig, Jim. You don't know how tired I am."
He comes later, six cold beers and a pack of cigarettes. (Maybe even some weed, for old time sake.)
They drink, and smoke. And laugh. And smoke, and drink. They don't know exactly how it happens, but it happens. They wake up still half naked on the couch next morning and they swear it was just one night, and they'll forget about it. He leaves, and life goes on.
Lonnie comes back home, Jim meets his wife some time later. And when he gets married, they live on the other side of Hawkins for some time, before New York. It's not a big city, and somehow the two of them just slowly becomes... strangers. Up to the point she doesn't even know...
And surely he cannot imagine Joyce's pregnant.
She keeps telling herself the baby's Lonnie's. It cannot be another way around. In 1968, she has a girl.
Jim is 38 when he comes back to Hawkins — it's 1980. He hates to watch the happy family; he knows Joyce isn't happy at all, but that girl. Sarah would have been 9 and Joyce's girl is just a little older, a 12 years old spitfire. Funny little thing, she is. And she hates her father to the guts. Everytime she can, she leaves the house, running into the woods. Her older brother tries to keep her but it's just — she's wild. A little rebel.
When Jim finds her the first time, running all alone in the street, crying an ocean, he immediately recognizes her. Jim takes her to the Benny's Burger, gets her a hot dog and fries, and a coke. She keeps talking, and talking, and talking — about her family, school and all the things no one in her family seem to care about ("Lonnie's fighting with Johnny, and mom's fighting with Lonnie and no one ever see me. This is good, can you buy me more sometime?")
He feel in love that night. He didn't get to be a father to Sarah... but she desperately needs one. So he talks to Joyce and keeps telling her it's alright. "Listen, that's a mess, I can see that. But I'm glad to help. If your daughter needs a safe place... just, you know where to find me."
And she does find him. The girl spends half of her nights at Jim's, mostly when her father comes home drunk enough to take it out on her, too. Jonathan is tough — he really doesn't want to deal with an old Chief, nor to be saved from his own father. But she's just a child.
Jim buys a VHS player. And a second toothbrush. She is small enough to take the couch. He can't cook to save his life, but finds out he's willing to learn — she can't eat pizza every fucking night, for god's sake. He helps her with math homework. Teachers are used to him coming to pick her up at school.
She calls him dad at school, speaking to her classmates. They know her as the Chief's daughter. Joyce doesn't mind explaing, she's done with keeping the appearance. "Jim is my dearest friend" she says, buying grocieres at the store, her youngest running around the shop, showing her the last pack of coloring pencils he wants for his next birthday. "He's always been there for my girl, and she just loves him like a daughter would."
He calls her peach. She's fine with it. And she should be at that age where kids get embarrassed by their own parents, but she jump out of his Hawkins Police pick-up with such pride before entering school — he couldn't be happier about that.
He lectures her about that danger of drugs, and alcohol and boys at the beginning of her first high school year. Now she's embarrassed. "I'd rather talk with mom about that, if you don't mind..." he nods, silently. "But thanks anyway, I love you too, dad."
It's the first time she said that. Jim doesn't get any sleep that night. He hadn't realize just how much he cared about her — it wasn't a matter of blood anymore, she was his daughter. Not Sarah, not a sort of surrogate for his own loss — his kid. She was her own person and he loved her.
He teaches her to drive. But she definetly improves with Jonathan, he can't be really patient about it.
She loves her brothers, really — they are just different. Like, there is something, somewhere... she can't wrap her head around it, but it's there. They are family just not the same family, perhaps. There is Joyce in her eyes, and in her smiles, but nothing of Lonnie. Even though she can see his nose on Jonathan's face, and his lips on Will's. The way he used to walk, bouncing around just like Johnny does. And the way he used to hums rock music, sometimes — just like Will's habits. She does not. None of this. She's quiet, and loves old movies, and checkered shirts, and coffee. No coffee in the Byers house, but tons of it in Jim's trailer.
And it all comes around when she gets a fever. Appendicites. Joyce and Jonathan rushes her to the hospital, they call him from the public phone. "Peach's getting operated right now — please, can you come?"
He's never left the Police station faster. And the doctors say they need blood — "Type 0 is rare. We don't have any bags available at the moment, but she needs a transfusion to recover as quickly as possible" the doctor explains.
Thank god Jim's there because the next day, when she opens her eyes, she asks about him too. He's slept in the hospital room, Joyce says, in case she woke up. But then, the doctor delivers the complete blood tests. They made sure about blood type compatibility and everything else, even though it was predictable — after all, she is his daughter.
And that's where all the knots come home to roost. Jim turns pale. He and Joyce exchange an eloquent look. He swallows. "My daughter — sure, but you mean that I... that we..."
Everything goes back to that 1967 summer night, to those beers, a joint shared on the sofa. Life couldn't get any stranger, right?
