Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Steve didn’t regret breaking off his friendship with Carol and Tommy. He didn’t, they made him the worst version of himself, and he knew that. He had known that for a long time, it had just taken a literal slap across the face to make him admit it to himself.

So why did he miss them?

He was sitting on his front porch, staring out at the street with a blank expression. His injuries from his fight- well, it wasn’t much of a fight, more of a single sided beatdown- with Jonathan had mostly healed, though his nose was still a little crooked and he could hear this faint whistling when he breathed in. And he hadn’t stopped picking at the scab on his lip, the sharp metallic taste of his own blood a constant that reminded him of the monster he’d faced. His parents weren’t home, but that really wasn’t surprising.

They were never home, not even on holidays.

Not that Thanksgiving had ever been a favorite holiday of his, but he’d gone to Tommy’s for the last five years. So the loneliness was eating at him.

It had been a couple weeks since Steve royally fucked up with Nancy, and he missed her. He felt like a moron, he’d let himself get swept up in Tommy and Carol’s revenge scheme. He hadn’t wanted to take part, he’d been planning on wallowing at home, anyway. But it was fine. He’d played stupid games and won stupid prizes. There was no one else to blame.

Steve shivered against the cold wind that swept through, but didn’t get up and go inside, just rubbed his hands over his bare arms. In the dark house, every creak sounded like the damn creature that had attacked the Byers’ home. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh, digging out a lighter from his pocket. He’d been trying to quit smoking, Nancy hadn’t liked the way it made his mouth taste, but the bursts of nicotine were the only thing that kept him going on endless days like today.

He stuck a cigarette between his lips, lighting it and inhaling deeply. The smoke filled his lungs and he held it. He held it as long as he could, even as it started to burn, let the sensation fill him up. Felt the buzzing beneath his skin as his lungs ached and burned. The smoke slipped past his lips in a rush, the air cold in his throat as he took a hurried breath in. His head flooded as he caught his breath, a dizzying rush that had him leaning back, feeling the cold wood of the porch through his shirt.

He could feel the heat from the cigarette getting closer to his fingers and held it to the side to flick off some ash. He stared at the sky, the stars starting to appear above. They looked blurrier than they used to. Taking one last inhale of the cigarette, he stubbed it on the floor by his hip, not even caring that he’d barely smoked it. He just wasn’t feeling it.

Smoke poured from his lips as he stood up, looking down the street. Something ugly twisted in his chest when he saw cars lining driveways, lights on in several other homes, but his house stood dark, desolate.

Whatever, he didn’t care.

He didn’t.

Steve switched on the lights, staring at them for a long moment before nodding, satisfied when they didn’t flicker. He could taste the cigarette on his breath, skin chilled from being outside as he made his way deeper into the house. As had been his routine for weeks now, he switched on every light, watching them for flickering. Only when none of them flickered did he walk into the kitchen, opening his fridge.

He hadn’t gone to the store in a little too long, fridge sparsely stocked with a few bare essentials, but there was a container of leftover pasta that would be a decent enough dinner. The hum of the microwave was the only sound, making the house feel more empty than usual. He crossed his arms over his chest and kicked uncomfortably at the ground, eyes darting towards the back sliding door every few seconds.

His eyes caught on a cookbook he’d never noticed before, perched on top of the cabinets. Curiosity piqued, he reached up and used just the tips of his fingers to pull it over the edge, catching it in his arms and clutching it to his chest. It was a recipe book with the surname Archambeau handwritten in silver ink on the cover. He opened it, scanning the handwritten recipe cards, the swirling script spelling out words he didn’t understand, a few that he could vaguely remember.

Recipes from his mother’s family in her language.

He delicately set it on the counter, looking at it like it might bite him if he looked away for too long. He’d learned to cook from necessity, realizing that frozen meals and junk food weren’t sustaining him. He’d had a few months of difficulty before he’d more or less mastered patience, letting things cook slowly instead of cranking the heat up, leaving him with half burnt half raw food. He’d also gotten more food poisoning than most people, but he had a reason to not cook his own chicken anymore.

The microwave beeped while he was contemplating the cookbook, startling him so bad he almost fell on his ass. Grumbling to himself, partially to fill the eerie, heavy silence, he snagged the pasta and gave it a cursory stir with a fork. It hadn’t fully heated in the middle, but he didn’t have the patience to put it back in.

Shoveling a forkful into his mouth, he slunk to the living room with an aborted glance at the cookbook. He hadn’t been eating much lately, the reason for his nearly empty kitchen. It was just easier to lay down and listen to records or tapes or the tv, just float outside his body and let time pass.

The distance he had from his parents had never seemed quite so large. He’d only gotten a call from his father after the police had contacted him when Barb went missing, and the last time he’d seen them in person was… well, they’d been home for a day the week everything had gone down, but they’d gotten home after he was in bed and left while he was at school.

So it had been awhile.

The not fully warmed pasta was filling enough. He reached out to drop the empty container on the coffee table and rolled over to face the back of the stiff couch. A slow breath left his lungs as his eyes fluttered shut, an empty exhaustion that had settled in his bones rearing its head. His forehead pressed against the fabric, eyelids heavy and body starting to relax for the first time in days. It was too bad he was still in his jeans and tee shirt, if he had bothered to change, he might have actually felt comfortable.

The living room was dark in a serene kind of way, the light from the kitchen dim enough to not cast haunting shadows, but bright enough that he could see if he needed to. He blinked slowly, staring at the elegant pattern decorating the fabric of the couch.

He embraced the exhaustion and let it settle on him like a warm blanket as he drifted off.

It didn’t stay comforting for long though.

Sleep didn’t come easy anymore. The warmth that encompassed him grew tight, too warm, too close, too much. He twitched in his sleep, mumbles slipping past his lips as his mind filled with everything that could have gone wrong. If he hadn’t been fast enough. If he hadn’t been strong enough. If Nancy’s aim had been off, if it had been Nancy’s brother or Jonathan’s brother, or one of their friends that had been at the hospital. Of Barb, what her death might have looked like, if the monster was what had dragged her away.

It felt real, suffocating and wrong.

His breathing picked up, the taste of blood filling his mouth. It dripped down his chin in large drops, pouring onto the ground at his feet. The dark red reflected the strung up christmas lights, the dark silhouette of the monster from hell imposing. The bat splintered into pieces as he raised it over his shoulder, the metal of the nails deafening as they hit the ground. All he could see was teeth, an impossible mouth gaping inches away from his face.

The blood on his face was hot, boiling against his skin, soaking into his clothes, filling the room around him. He could hear screaming in the distance, but he couldn’t see anyone else. He couldn’t look away from the abyss beyond the layers of teeth. He felt like he was staring into something beyond humanity, beyond what he knew was possible.

He was standing on the edge of the infinite. The cold, unforgiving infinite.

And it lunged at him and all he could do was watch as his body was shredded, the monster rending him to nothingness.

He didn’t know how long he had been asleep when his eyes flew open, the darkness overwhelming his racing mind. He gasped for air, nearly falling off the couch as he flailed and pressed a hand to his mouth. He didn’t feel any blood, his mouth dry as he heaved in breaths. His heart hammered in his chest, his ribs were too tight, his skin was squeezing his bones, threatening to crush him into dust. His throat burned, his dinner threatening to come back up, but he swallowed hard and pinched the bridge of his nose as he fought the stinging burn behind his eyes.

By the time Steve got his limbs coordinated enough to sit up, his breathing was starting to even out, the light from the kitchen dim enough that it didn’t blind him. He rubbed a hand down his face, wiping away sweat. He groaned into the silent house and rose to his feet. He picked up the container he’d left on the coffee table and trudged into the kitchen, sleepily fumbling for a glass with trembling hands. He filled it with water and chugged it, repeating the process twice more until he felt his lagging brain begin to catch up with his body.

He shuddered as he blinked and could only see the shadow of the creature reflected in his blood against the back of his eyelids. Fuck, he needed to get out of the house.

He dropped the glass in the sink, flipped on the patio lights, and opened the sliding glass door, the cold night air sending goosebumps rising on his sweaty skin. The concrete was rough against the bottom of his bare feet, but he didn’t really feel it, didn’t feel much. He was hovering outside his body, watching more than feeling as he walked towards the covered pool. The sky was overcast, the moon and stars blocked out in the inky void above.

He sat down next to the pool, the black cover mocking him. A girl had gone missing. Feet from where he was sitting, and he had been inside. He hadn’t done anything to save her. Nancy said she was dead, that she wasn’t missing and that the monster that took Will had taken Barb.

He didn’t know Barb. He’d seen her and talked to her a handful of times, but he’d brushed her off. He’d been so focused on Nancy, impressing her, taking her out, but had he gotten to know her at all?

A strangled sound came out of his mouth, one he didn’t recognize, and he realized he couldn’t breathe. Is that what she’d felt? How much had she struggled? Would Steve have been able to save her if he’d paid a little more attention? Why hadn’t she just gone home?

Why did the monster have to take her? Why hadn’t it taken him? He was the one who deserved it, Barb had done nothing wrong. She’d done nothing wrong and she was gone, she was gone and he hadn’t stopped it.

He swung his hand downwards and punched the ground, feeling the scrape of his knuckles against concrete, hissing as the cold air made the pain worse. “Fuck!” At least now he was broken out of his spiraling thoughts.

Steve’s voice echoed in the empty backyard. He’d never felt quite so alone, but that’s what he was now. Tommy and Carol didn’t care. Nancy didn’t care. His own parents clearly didn’t care. The world was a big place and Steve was pretty sure he’d slipped through the cracks.

The monster should have taken him instead of Barb, instead of Will. Hawkins would have been better for it. Would anyone have known? Would anyone have looked for him? He couldn’t imagine Tommy and Carol would’ve looked for him like Will’s friends had, they certainly wouldn’t have helped a girl who had been lost in the woods. His mother wouldn’t have insisted on him being alive like Joyce Byers, wouldn’t have risked her status to plead for help. He didn’t think Hopper would’ve been all that concerned, probably would mark him down as a runaway or assumed he was somewhere with his parents.

He clutched his hand to his chest and rose to his feet as he shivered against the cold night. His blood was hot as it oozed from his knuckles, coating his fingers. Hoping it wouldn’t spread to his clothes, even if there was no one else around to care anymore, he crept back inside.

It was just after 4 in the morning, but Steve didn’t want to go back to sleep. He didn’t want to see the monster or his own death or anyone else’s. Sleep was a form of torture now. He needed to do something, anything to keep his mind and body occupied.

He rinsed the blood away and wrapped his knuckles in gauze, then began to clean the kitchen. He started with the inside of the microwave, the grates on the stove, the faucet, the sink, the floor. Anything he could think of, because if he was doing something with his hands, he wasn’t allowing himself to think. The smell of bleach burned his nose, he swore he could taste it on his tongue. It stung his knuckles and he was sure that he should have put on a pair of gloves to protect his skin, but getting the kitchen as clean as possible felt more important.

There was a sense of control that came with cleaning. It was something that he was good at and would quiet his mind. He could just let time pass him by and get something done. It felt… nice to get shit done and not have to think at the same time.

It was 6 by the time the kitchen was shining, smelling heavily of cleaning chemicals. The gauze was wet with blood and water and bleach, but he hardly felt the sting as he unwrapped his knuckles, gritting his teeth as he properly cleaned the scrapes. His head was still too loud, there were still three days before he went back to school. He needed to do something before he started scratching his own skin off.

As he rinsed soap from the scrapes, his eyes found the cookbook of French recipes that he’d probably moved 10 times while cleaning. It didn’t feel right to put it back on top of the cabinets, hidden away. He wished he’d learned more French as a kid or at least retained more than he had. He only remembered the basics and wished, not for the first time, that his father had allowed him to speak it more, that his mother had fought a little harder to keep teaching him and make him feel more connected to the family he’d never gotten to know.

Steve dried his hand and rewrapped his knuckles, which were starting to throb. He ignored the pain and opened the cookbook, squinting at the cursive French. He licked at the cut in his lip, deciphering one of the simpler recipes, translating as much as he could, muttering to himself. “Ouef… lait…” The words were familiar in an forgotten way, like he was flexing a muscle he hadn’t used in years.

The motions were more familiar as he mixed and kneaded and poured, using just about everything he had left in the house. He’d had to omit a few ingredients and get a little creative. Slightly wilted green onions hadn’t been in the recipe, but they added some color. He hadn’t cooked like this in a long time, hadn’t felt the joy of creating for the sake of it. Facing down a monster and fearing for his life had an odd way of making him want to remember how to live instead of just existing.

His tongue prodded the cut on his mouth again as he pushed the oven door shut, a timer clicking away next to the stove.

He had a lot of apologies to make.

The Byers’ house, where he found himself just a few hours later, looked a lot less intimidating during the day. Especially when the lights weren’t flickering on and off to a chorus of screaming. The dish in Steve’s hands was heavy, the cut by his mouth stinging, still not quite healed when his tongue poked out to wet his chapped lips. The morning air was crisp, chilly and cutting through his long sleeve v-neck. He knew he should have slipped on his jacket, but he also hadn’t been planning on standing on the porch for several minutes.

A gust of wind rustled the bushes nearby, spurning him to finally knock on the door. He shifted his weight between his feet and straightened his back when he heard footsteps approaching the door from inside. It was like when he’d come knocking last in some ways, anxiety and guilt churning in his stomach, making him feel off kilter and nauseated. But so much different at the same time. At least, he was praying he didn’t need to sprint back to the car for the bat Jonathan had told him to keep. The door swung open, Joyce looking up at him with a furrowed brow. “Steve, right? Can I… help you?”

“Ms. Byers, hi. Um, yeah, Steve. I brought a quiche?” He held up the container and the confusion in her expression only deepened. “I wanted to come over and apologize.” He looked up and down the street, as if he was checking for anyone listening in. “For a few weeks ago. And I wanted to see how Will is doing.”

“Oh, come inside.” She stepped back to let him in, but her gaze was discerning and he could feel the distrust coming off of her in waves. He understood, shoulders pulled close to his neck as he entered the warm home. “You know we can’t talk about it.”

“I know.” Steve swallowed, a shiver of fear running up his spine as he looked around the living room he was standing in. He tried not to stare at the short hall where Jonathan had thrown the lighter, able to feel the ghost of heat against his skin. The government had overseen the repairs to the house, the lights taken down from the walls, the singed floor replaced. “I just need to apologize. So… I’m sorry.”

Her expression softened, not by much, but some of the lines on her face relaxed. “You saved Jonathan,” she murmured, taking the container with the quiche. “He and Nancy told me everything. I’m grateful for that. It doesn’t, however, excuse what you said to him. I don’t give a particular shit about who your parents are.”

He cringed, taking a half step back. Joyce wasn’t a particularly big woman, she was pretty tiny, actually, but she’d cowed him without a second thought. It was like he could feel her disappointment crushing his ribs with its intensity. “I know. I… what I said wasn’t okay, I know that. And I don’t expect him to forgive me, or for you to, for that matter. But for what it’s worth, I am sorry and I hope to make it up to him somehow. Is he around?”

“He’s still in bed. He took a shift at work last night and didn’t get home until late.” She eyed his face and he swore he saw the ghost of a smirk on her face. “He got you pretty good, didn’t he?”

“He, um, definitely made his hits count.” He touched the side of his nose, cringing back from his own touch with a weak laugh. “He’d probably make a good boxer.”

She laughed, quickly covering her mouth and clearing her throat. “I’m not so sure about that. He isn’t much of a fighter in most circumstances.”

“Yeah, guess I was just lucky, huh?”

“Not lucky, just…” She trailed off, but Steve knew what she would have said.

“Just stupid.” Steve shoved his hands in his pocket. “Believe me, I know. Turns out if you surround yourself with assholes, you don’t realize you’ve turned into one until it’s too late.” His head snapped up when he heard a sound, Will standing in the hallway and looking down at them.

God he was tiny. Steve felt a little sick when he saw those big, haunted eyes. He hadn’t spoken to him in the hospital, had mostly hung back while everyone else surrounded him. He’d looked tiny in the hospital bed, too. He remembered Hopper saying he’d done CPR on the kid, and yeah, Steve was definitely queasy at that thought. “Mom?”

“Oh, Will, this is Steve. He was… here with Jonathan on the night we found you. He wanted to see how you’ve been doing, and he brought us some breakfast!”

“Hi, Will.” Steve waved.

“You’re the one who called my brother a queer.” Will practically spat the word, a venom in his voice that Steve couldn’t have seen coming.

His stomach clenched at the reminder, his eyes darting away from the boy staring him down. “...yeah, that was me. I was… so incredibly out of line. I said a lot of things I regret. I’m sorry.”

Will blinked a few times, like he hadn’t expected the apology. Steve cringed as he thought about what Joyce and Will must have heard about him from Jonathan over the years. Nothing good, he could only assume. Not that he’d shown Jonathan much kindness over the last couple years. Not that he’d shown any kindness in a long time. A wave of shame crashed over him as he let Will stare him down again, meeting his gaze.

Jesus, what was with the Byers and being able to pin him down with just their eyes. A flush rose to his cheeks when he thought back to being actually pinned by Jonathan, the way his head had knocked against the road. “Right.” Will didn’t sound entirely convinced, but his posture seemed to relax a little, too. “…what did he bring?”

“Oh, um, it’s a quiche. It’s got eggs and cheese and some green onions? I didn’t have a lot in the fridge so I had to change the recipe a little to account for that, and I don’t know French as well as I used to, but I think I translated most of it pretty good.” He bit the tip of his tongue to stop himself from rambling, gesturing at the container in Joyce’s arms, able to see the clear plastic fogging over.

“Why was the recipe in French?” She shot him an odd look, walking into the attached kitchen with Will falling into step with her, just shy of grabbing onto her shirt.

“It was from my mother’s recipe book, French is her first language.” Steve hovered near the counter, watching as Joyce got a knife from the block, opening the container. “I know some basics of French, oui, non, s’il vous plaît, you know. She wanted me to be fluent, but my father didn’t, so she stopped teaching me when I was about 10.” He didn’t mention that she’d stopped teaching him because she started leaving him to travel with his father.

“Cool,” Will said softly, taking a seat at the kitchen table. “Why didn’t your dad want you knowing French?”

Steve shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t know, he’s kind of an… odd guy. Pretty strict. I think he didn’t want us talking if he couldn’t understand, and he wasn’t about to learn French. He thought it was too girly for me to speak French?” He uncrossed his arms, feeling awkward, like he didn’t know how to stand like a normal person.

Joyce looked at him again, looking like he’d said something weird. She bit her lip and turned to get down a few plates. “Why don’t you have a seat, Steve?” She gestured to an empty chair.

Steve hadn’t been planning on staying long, he’d already been worrying he was overstaying his welcome, but he didn’t want to be rude. So he took a seat at the table, flashing a worried smile at Will. The younger boy seemed a little less guarded, but he regarded Steve with a detached air of wariness. “Uh, do you play that dragons game with Nancy’s brother? I’ve heard him talk about it a few times.”

Will perked up at that, nodding eagerly. “I do! I play a wizard named Will the Wise!” He went into an excited ramble about the game, most of his excited rambling going right over Steve’s head. But Steve just nodded along easily. Will’s excitement was just as exciting to listen to, even if he didn’t get it.

His rambling chatter paused when Joyce set a plate in front of him with a slice of the still warm quiche. He dug in eagerly and looked at Steve with wide eyes, looking more cheerful and less haunted than Steve had seen him before. “This is really good!”

“Is it? Good, I’m glad.” Steve relaxed a little when Will began to eat eagerly.

“Are you hungry, Steve?” Joyce made to cut another slice of the quiche, but Steve shook his head.

“I made it for you guys! I’m not hungry, anyway.” He didn’t eat as much as he used to, feeling more like he was haunting his body more often than not. He still ate, of course, but he preferred to do it in private. There was something so vulnerable about it in his mind, and vulnerability didn’t feel like something he could afford, not when monsters crawled out of ceilings and little girls apparently disappeared when fighting them. Steve shifted in his seat, staring down at the table as Will ate. He clasped his hands together awkwardly on top of the table, but smiled when a dog came running in, sniffing at his ankle. “Oh. Hi there.” He reached down to scratch the dog behind the ears.

“That’s Chester,” Will informed. “He’s old.”

“He’s cute.” Steve kept petting the dog, grateful for something to do with his hands. Chester flopped over onto his side, letting Steve pet his soft belly. “Good boy.” Steve liked animals, and a soft little creature was running around in this place that he associated with danger. If Chester could run around carefree with his tail wagging, maybe Steve was safe, the monster wasn’t going to come back.

He let Chester lick at his fingers, used him as an excuse to not make any eye contact, instead shooting half hearted glances at Joyce and Will. Will was content to eat, but Joyce was watching him. His skin crawled and he had the urge to hide himself and try to disappear. He didn’t say that, didn’t want to seem rude. He wiped his hand on his jeans, frowning when he saw that they must have been splashed with bleach. Pale orange spots stood out to his eyes at the cuffs and knees.

Embarrassment stung at his gut. He’d changed his shirt that morning, but he hadn’t thought about changing his pants. “I uh, I’ve got some homework to finish up before school on Monday. Enjoy the quiche?”

“Thanks Steve.” Will smiled at him and something untangled as Steve stood up, he could breathe a little easier. Maybe he could make up for his mistakes. Maybe he could try and be… not the guy he’d become, but someone else.

He gave Chester another scratch behind the ears and shared a brief nod with Joyce before seeing himself out of the house. He took a sharp breath of the cutting November air and felt a little bit lighter.

-----

“Hi. Is Jonathan here?” Christmas Eve found Steve in front of the Byers house again, hands held behind his back. It was familiar, standing here in front of Joyce on her porch, heart thumping with anxiety. This time though, he wasn’t as worried about seeing Joyce. He held his breath as she turned away from him, calling for Jonathan.

“Just wait here, he’ll be out in a minute. Unless you’d like to come in?” There was a tentative extension of kindness there, one that had been brewing over the last month. Steve had brought her some of his attempts at his mother’s recipes, some better than others, but Joyce was happy enough to take them and engage with him.

“Oh, um, no, but thanks. I’ll just wait here.” He rocked on his heels as she nodded and closed the door. His eyes flicked up to the porch light, eyeing it warily the way he did with most lights these days. It didn’t flicker, but his attention was so wrapped up in it, he jumped and swore when the door opened again.

Jonathan frowned, stepping outside to join him on the porch. “Uh, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, fine.” He cleared his throat and looked away. “Hi Jonathan. I uh, I wanted to come over and talk to you for a few minutes if that’s okay.” His heart was pounding and his hands were sweating, the same kind of anxiety he’d felt when he asked Nancy out for the first time. Not that that was comparable in any way, obviously. Probably.

“Sure.” Jonathan rubbed his hands together to ward off the winter chill. “About what, exactly?”

Steve pulled the box he’d been hiding out from behind his back. “I wanted to give you this and apologize. I said a lot of shit that I shouldn’t have, I broke your camera, I’ve been… just a really crappy person. I don’t expect you to accept my apology, but I want to try and make it up to you.”

Jonathan stared at the box with wide eyes and reached to take it with shaking hands. “Steve, this is… a really nice camera.”

“Is it? Good. I had no idea what I was looking at, I had to ask so many questions and I think the guy at the store was getting really sick of me.” Steve bit at his lip, able to feel the spot that had finally healed over, the skin still a little rough. Jonathan’s eyes were inspecting the box, fingers tracing delicately over the text on it.

“Jesus, Steve,” he murmured. “Thank you, this is… this is too much.”

“It’s not. I fucked up, Jonathan. I want to make things right. This is the first step.”

Jonathan frowned, head tilting. “The first step? What other steps are there?”

“Not being that guy anymore, I guess. I don’t want to be an asshole or a bully anymore.”

“You were barely a bully, if it makes you feel better. You were kind of just…”

“There.” Steve nodded and rubbed his hands together and let out a huff of air that wasn’t quite a laugh, watching as the swirls of his breath drifted upwards and were swept away by the wind. “I don’t even know what I was ever trying to accomplish, but it didn’t get me anything that I wanted. Didn’t even get me to where I know what I want.” A cold breeze swept past them, making them both shiver. “This isn’t about me, sorry. I just… yeah. I’m sorry, Jonathan. You have total permission to kick my ass again if I start acting like I did.” He looked into Jonathan’s eyes, hoping his voice carried all the sincerity he felt.

“If you ever say anything about my mom or brother again, I can promise that I will definitely kick your ass again.” Jonathan laughed, reaching out to brush his fingertips over the bridge of Steve’s nose, where a pinkish line was scarring over. “I’m sorry too, you know.”

“Huh?” Steve’s face was warm as Jonathan’s cold fingers touched his face. He nearly flinched away from it, but just closed his eyes and sucked in a breath. He tried not to think about the way it made his skin tingle, tried not to think about how it was the first time anyone had touched him in a month. “For what?”

“I already talked to Nancy, but… it was really wrong of me to take those photos. You weren’t exactly out of line when you broke my camera. It was an invasion of her privacy and yours.”

“Oh.” He blinked a few times and just stared at Jonathan, letting the apology sink in. He hadn’t expected to be on the receiving end of one tonight. He hadn’t even really expected Jonathan to accept his apology either. And, yeah, he’d thought about how gross it had felt, knowing his bedroom was on film, that he’d been just out of frame and half dressed. But he hadn’t realized he was… allowed to be upset over it. He’d been angry on Nancy’s behalf, but… shit, maybe he needed to think about it more. Not that he wanted to be mad at Jonathan or anything, he was a good guy, he’d done something stupid. Who didn’t do stupid things at their age? “Um… thanks.”

“And… okay, I’m not that sorry for the fight. Probably could’ve held back on the last few punches. I forgive you, though.”

“You knocked some sense into me. I mean, I was more concerned with Nancy, never really thought about the whole picture thing beyond that.” Steve rubbed the back of his neck before holding out a hand. “Do you think we can start over? Blank slate?”

“Blank slate,” Jonathan agreed and shook Steve’s hand. “I should get back inside, you probably need to get back to your family. Um, Merry Christmas, Steve.”

Steve felt his expression twist into something sad for a fleeting second, but he nodded and pulled his lips into a smile. “Yeah, okay. Merry Christmas, Jonathan. I’ll see you at school?”

“I’ll be there.” He smiled and turned to go back inside, casting one final glance at Steve before he closed the door. Steve looked up towards the overcast sky, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as thick white snowflakes began drifting towards the ground.

He made his way back to the big, dark, empty house and sighed, sitting in his running car for a few long moments. He stared out his windshield as snowflakes began to coat it and watched as the house was taken away from view bit by bit. He pulled his key from the ignition before he sat there all night and trudged through the thin layer of snow that coated the ground.

He wanted to order in his dinner before it got too late, knowing there was only one place in town doing deliveries tonight. He was also expecting a call from his father but wouldn’t be all that surprised if it never came. He hadn’t gotten as many calls as he had in prior years.

So he was looking at a pretty quiet night. Pretty routine for him. Maybe he could pretend it was any other night, that he wasn’t hoping for something to soothe the quiet ache.

He turned on lights and watched them closely until he was sure they wouldn’t flicker, he called in an order for delivery,then he sat in the living room and let a marathon of The A-Team soothe his lonely self.

Chapter Text

Steve wasn’t the most… academically inclined, even now that he was trying a little harder than he used to. And now that the teacher who had always made class the easiest to understand was leaving, he knew the rest of the year would be a headache as he scrambled to catch himself back up. If he could scrape by with passing grades on his midterms, he’d be fine, but if he failed any of them, the second half of the year would be a nightmare.

But he was good in gym class. Plus, the swim coach was his gym teacher, which definitely didn’t hurt.

He was kind of killing it in the current game of dodgeball, sneakers squeaking against the gymnasium floor as he caught a rubber ball out of the air, the smack of it against his palms satisfying. He pulled it to his chest, fingers digging against the textured surface as he scanned the other team. Ducking under a ball thrown his way, he threw it back in the direction it had come, grinning when it hit a kid he didn’t know in the side.

There was a sort of rhythm to it, catch a ball, don’t get hit, throw it back. He kept himself low, ignoring the chatter around him. Maybe if he’d been paying more attention, he would have seen Tommy glaring at him, but instead he was focused on moving to grab a ball that was rolling across the floor.

Steve didn’t notice, so as he ran to grab a ball rolling past, his foot hit Tommy’s stretched out leg, and he hit the floor. Hard.

There wasn’t enough time to get his arms under himself, the floor rising up to meet him. His teeth sank through something with a weird amount of resistance as his chin knocked against the floor. Something hot slid between his lips as he began to push himself up, and that’s when the metallic taste hit him. It flooded his mouth and senses, and he gasped as the pain hit after a few seconds of delay. He remembered this nightmare. His stomach rolled, blood dribbling from between his lips. The smell of blood, the pain in his mouth, the hum of fluorescent lights above him. It was overwhelming and he couldn’t fill his lungs.

And suddenly he was in the Byers’ living room again, there was a creature roaring at Jonathan and Nancy, her gun was clicking, the chamber was empty. He wasn’t supposed to be there but he was grabbing Jonathan’s discarded bat. His shoulders ached as he swung again and again and again and it wasn’t enough, it wasn’t, he was going to die, he wasn’t able to protect them-

His stomach lurched and his lunch made a bloody reappearance on the floor in front of him. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath. “Harrington!”

“Coach?” Steve lifted his head as his fingertips tingled. Everything seemed a little hazy around the edges as his tongue moved in his mouth, nerves screaming. He hadn’t bitten all the way through it, that was good. The smell of blood was still setting him on edge as he looked blearily at Coach Larson with burning eyes.

“On your feet, son.”

Steve gagged as he tried to swallow, only to feel a mouthful of his own blood slide down his throat. He covered his mouth with a hand, blood pooling on his tongue and filling his mouth again. He let out a wordless groan as he got to his feet, a heavy hand resting on his shoulder. Coach Larson guided him away from the middle of the gym, grabbing a small trash can and pushing it into his hands. He let his mouth fall open and felt dizzy when he saw the amount of blood dripping from his mouth. He blinked several times in quick succession, holding back the urge to cry, panic sitting heavy in his skull. He sucked deep breaths in through his nose, mouth coated with his own blood.

“Hagan, go find the janitor to get this cleaned up. Uh, Emerson, let’s go, take Harrington to the nurse.” Coach Larson clapped Steve on the back. “That better not keep you out of the pool, son.”

Steve forced a smile, hearing the undercurrent of concern in the coach’s tone. “It shouldn’t, it’s just my tongue.” He cringed at the lisp, his voice not sounding like it should. He opened his mouth and tilted his head down, watching as the red splattered against the clear trash bag.

A boy with short brown, fluffy hair approached him, looking vaguely sickened by the amount of blood coming from his mouth. Steve didn’t blame him as he racked his brain to try and produce the name of the other boy, the smell and appearance of the blood was probably pretty off-putting. “Uh, hey.”

Steve lifted a hand, giving a sharp half wave. “Hey.”

“I’ll walk you to the nurse…” He hesitated before putting a hand on Steve’s shoulder, cringing back when Steve gagged again, the blood in his mouth overwhelming.

“Sorry,” he choked out.

“No, no, it’s… you’re good.” He guided Steve out of the gym and into the quiet hallway. “What happened? I was talking to someone and then we all heard you hit the ground… and saw all the blood.”

“Fucking Hagan,” Steve spat, gritting his teeth against the pain. “Wasn’t paying enough attention and he tripped me. Tongue was between my teeth.”

“Ah.”

Steve had a lightbulb moment, finally pulling the boy’s name from somewhere in his mind. “Gareth, right?” He looked over at him and watched as his eyes widened in mild surprise.

“You know my name?”

“We’ve been in the same gym class all year.” Steve’s face twisted into annoyance at the persistent lisp in his voice. “This is a nightmare.”

“I thought you were friends with Hagan. I mean, you’ve been practically attached at the hip for as long as I can remember. Like, you were in eighth grade and I was basically a baby in sixth grade, but I remember seeing you guys act super close back then.” Gareth patted his shoulder, an awkward but comforting gesture.

“Yeah, well, Jonathan Byers kicked my ass and made me realize how shitty I’ve been. Tommy didn’t love that, got really mad when I pointed out how much we sucked. Now my mouth is bleeding.” He sighed, stomach lurching again, but at least it was a dry heave, nothing coming up.

“Byers, huh?”

“He’s got a hell of an arm, let me tell you. And he’s a pretty cool guy, real protective of his family. Good photographer too.”

“So you’re friends with him now? After… all of that?”

Steve nodded, smiling a little with blood stained lips. “Yup. At least, I consider us friends. I think he does too.”

“Huh.” If anything, Gareth seemed more wary of him now. Steve could live with that. He’d become something of a freak, almost overnight. He was still trying to learn how to stop caring what other people thought. He knew popularity was a sham, he’d become someone he hated in his reckless pursuit of it. But he still wanted people to like him, he craved it, needed it like air. Because if people didn’t like him, he was nothing.

It was an uphill battle.

“Steve?” Nancy’s voice grabbed his attention as she came running down the hall towards him. “What the hell happened?” She grabbed his chin, making him wince.

“I tripped in gym, geez,” he mumbled, trying to pull his head away from her grasp. Shame bubbled up in his gut and he took a step back, clutching the trash can tighter to his chest.

Nancy seemed shocked that he pulled away, but he just tilted his head down to avoid eye contact and parted his lips to let more blood dribble from his mouth. His face burned with embarrassment and he bit the inside of his cheek to try and hold his expression steady. “Just… what really happened? You’re not… you don’t just fall!”

“I tripped, Nance. Happens to the best of us.”

She looked down at the hall pass in her hands, eyes flicking between it and Steve’s bloody mouth. “Okay… I’ll see you around?” She seemed reluctant to let him out of the conversation so easily, but Steve nodded, keeping his mouth shut.

He felt dizzy as he kept making his way down the hall, Gareth’s sneakers squeaking as he stayed close to Steve’s side. “Why didn’t you tell her you were tripped? Or Coach Larson, for that matter?”

“It wouldn’t do any good. Nancy doesn’t need to know, Tommy would just make it more of a problem if he got in trouble. It’s not that bad.” His obvious lie was punctuated by more blood being spit into the trash can. He sighed and rubbed his cheek. “I hope I can just go home after this.”

“I think you need a… a hospital or dentist or something.”

“My teeth are fine, man.” Steve cast a sideways glance at Gareth.

“Not for your teeth, for your tongue.” When Steve blinked at him, he threw his hands in the air. “I don’t know who a tongue specialist would be! A dentist seems like the closest option.”

“Okay.” Steve huffed out an amused sound as they got to the nurse’s office. “Hey, uh… thanks. For the distraction. Probably would’ve gotten worked up over all the uh, blood.” He gestured to his mouth and tried to grin, but that made Gareth falter. “...I’ll see you around?” He hated the hope that crept into his voice, hated the frantic need to try and cling to anyone who showed him kindness.

“Sure, Steve. I’ll see you around. I hope you stop bleeding soon?” Gareth waved, taking a few steps backwards before turning to walk away, leaving Steve standing in front of the nurse’s door by himself.

“Might as well get this over with,” he muttered before pulling the door open and bracing himself. He choked on another mouthful of blood, watching the nurse pale as big drops of blood dribbled down his chin.

When Steve finally got home that night with his tongue freshly stitched together and a bottle of pills rattling in his pocket, he collapsed onto the couch and buried his face in a scratchy throw pillow. His teeth were stained, he had a whole list of things he couldn’t do for weeks, and he was exhausted. His mouth tasted awful, but he didn’t want to get up and brush his teeth or rinse out his mouth, he just wanted to sleep.

After laying for a few long minutes with the only noise being the beating of his own heart, he sighed and pushed himself up. At least he had a doctor’s note to avoid going to school tomorrow, he could sleep in as late as he wanted.

He grabbed the salt shaker from the kitchen before heading into the bathroom, letting his feet drag against the ground. He was almost certainly going to be getting a call from his parents after the hospital visit. Hopefully his mother would be the one on the line. She’d certainly have something to say about his newfound lisp that was supposed to go away soon enough, but he doubted she’d ooze the same disappointment his father would.

As he rinsed his mouth out with stinging, gross salt water, he tried not to gaze too hard at his reflection. His chin was bruised and his bottom lip was swollen. His eyes were a little bloodshot from his exhaustion and the bags under his eyes were dark. It looked like he hadn’t slept in a week, which was a little too close to true for his comfort.

Steve brushed his teeth, scrubbing away the red that stained them. His tongue hurt every time he moved it and he had a pounding headache. He spit out the stinging mint toothpaste because apparently everything made his tongue hurt, and rinsed out his mouth, the water stained pink. At least his mouth didn’t taste as bad now. He dragged himself to bed and curled up on top of the blankets, too exhausted to even change.

After a few minutes of trying to will himself to sleep, he sighed and shuffled to kick off his pants, laying in a tee and his briefs. The room was too dark. He rubbed his eyes and dragged himself out of bed, opening the bedroom door and switching on the hall light.

He felt like a child, needing the lights on to sleep, but at least he’d made it up to his bed tonight. The temptation to crash on the couch wasn’t new. He was hurt and alone. He wished the house wasn’t so empty, wished his parents were home. Even if they wouldn’t do much to make him feel better, it would have been nice to feel a little less lonely.

He eventually fell into an uneasy sleep, wrapped in a ball around a spare pillow.

Chapter Text

Steve picked at his lunch, having given up on trying to eat much of anything with the pain in his tongue. It had been about a week and the painkillers were only doing so much. He was sitting uncomfortably next to Gareth with Becca, another junior, sitting across from him, her eyes fixed on him with an unspoken curiosity. Gareth had dragged him to the lunch table after realizing he would wait out lunch in the back corner of the library with one of his textbooks, trying to decipher the swirling letters. It was the first time he’d eaten in the cafeteria in… a couple months, really. He’d been more comfortable hiding out ever since his fallout with Tommy and Carol. Not even Nancy and Jonathan had been able to convince him to eat in the cafeteria.

Gareth was perched in his seat, crouched like a gargoyle as his head swiveled. “What are you… doing?”

“He’s looking for Jeff.” Becca snorted, taking a swig of her coke as Gareth sputtered.

“I am not! I mean, yeah, duh, but I’m looking for Eddie and Grant too!” He dropped himself down onto his chair and shot a glare at Becca, scrunching up his face in irritation. “Come on, don’t scare Steve off!”

“What?” Steve blinked, looking over at Gareth. “I don’t think I can be scared off at this point. I was worried I’d scare you off.” He gestured towards his mouth. “You know. With the blood and puke and everything.”

Gareth shrugged. “Who would you even hang out with if we scared you off, man?”

“One, it’s barely been a week, and two… um, Nancy, I guess? Jonathan?”

“You really like Byers, huh?”

“He’s cool!” Steve threw up his arms. “Why is that so hard to believe?”

“It’s not that I don’t believe you. I’ve never talked to the guy, that's all. He’s a year above me and I only know who he is because of everything that happened with his brother.”

“Who?” Grant, who Steve had met once or twice in passing, sat next to Becca with his lunch tray. “Hey Bec, Gareth.”

“Grant, do you know Jonathan Byers?” Becca was grinning, leaning over to knock her shoulder against his. “Steve here has been insisting that he’s really cool.”

“Kind of. He’s in my history class. Really quiet, but seems to do pretty well in class. He always looks like he hasn’t slept in a couple of weeks though.”

“Yeah.” Steve laughed, almost wistful as he looked towards the back of the cafeteria where Jonathan was sitting with Nancy, their heads bowed towards each other. Something twisted in his stomach, something that ached and felt ugly and he didn’t want to think about it, making him jerk his head away to look at Grant. “Hopefully he’s sleeping better, now that everything seems to be cooling off.”

“Guy needs it more than anyone,” Grant agreed. “So… you and Gareth are in gym together?”

“Yup. He was forced to walk my sorry ass to the nurse’s office.”

“I thought he was dying!” Gareth chirped. “There was so much blood.”

“The head bleeds.” Steve nodded sagely, making Becca laugh. “It does!”

“I’m not saying it doesn’t.” She gave him a crooked grin. “You’re funnier than I thought you’d be, Harrington.”

“Thanks Becca. I’m taking that as a compliment.”

“Take it however you want to.”

Gareth made a strangled sound out of nowhere, making Steve jump, nearly to the point of falling off his seat. His head whipped around as he took stock of his surroundings, eyes shooting up to the lights to make sure they weren’t flickering. He held his breath for a long moment, only letting it out when he was sure they weren’t. He was gripping his plastic fork in his hand, hard enough that the edges dug into his skin painfully.

He shifted in his chair, planting his feet flat against the floor, ready to spring up as soon as he knew what was happening, ready to defend himself, ready to fight. He needed to be ready to fight, that thing was back. He felt like he could smell gasoline and burning carpet, rotting flesh and smoke.

“Um, you alright man?” Gareth reached over and prodded his arm, eyebrows pulled together. Jeff had just startled him by ruffling up his hair, and they were both staring at him, not a monster in sight.

Steve flushed, taking a slow breath. “Yup. Yeah, totally fine. Just startled.” He folded his hands in front of him on the table, the fork sticking up awkwardly between them as he tried to get his heart to slow, his breaths to even. The fork wouldn’t do much. He wondered if he’d be able to make it out to his car if the monster showed up in the school. Would he be able to get the bat? He shot a glance back at Nancy and Jonathan, but they seemed unconcerned, soothing some of the anxiety in his chest.

“You sure? You looked pretty freaked out for a second there. Like, fucking haunted or something.” Grant leaned forward, looking genuinely concerned.

Steve waved him off as a wave of shame crashed over him. “I startle easy, that’s all.” He cleared his throat and shrugged, trying to pretend he didn’t hate the feeling of eyes on him. “Hi Jeff.”

“Hey Steve.” He eyed him oddly for another moment before taking a seat. “How’s the tongue?”

Steve stuck it out, showing off the stitches. “Hurts. Eating sucks, I can’t use straws or eat anything hot for a while.” He held up a carton of milk and shook it. “Pretty much all I can have from here.” He took a sip for emphasis.

“You going to be okay?”

“Oh, yeah. Gonna be awhile, but I’m on antibiotics and have an appointment to get the stitches out.” He took a sip of the milk, the cool liquid soothing some of the constant ache that he was getting used to.

“I meant for today.” Jeff hummed, and if Gareth’s annoyed noise was anything to go by, he’d kicked Gareth under the table. “The day is pretty long when you don’t eat any lunch.”

“Oh, yeah, I’ll be fine. I don’t eat much on the days I have swim meets anyway, so it’ll be like that.”

Grant frowned at that. “Aren’t you supposed to eat before you go and play sports?”

Steve snickered at his wording. “Yeah, that’s what they tell me, but I just feel nauseous if I swim on a full stomach. I just drink extra water. Besides, I’ve got a figure to keep up with.” He gestured to himself, hoping it came off as funny and not conceited.

“If you’re sure. You’re the expert here, not me.” Grant chuckled, but he didn’t look away from Steve for another moment. Just long enough to make Steve feel squirmy under his gaze.

It was nothing compared to the way he felt when another tray dropped down at the head of the table and Eddie Munson stared down at him. His expression was hard to read, but the longer he stood there, staring at Steve, the more Steve wanted to slide down under the table and disappear.

“Gentlemen, gentlelady, would any of you care to explain why Steve Harrington of all people is sitting here? Last time I checked, you need to be a member of Hellfire to sit here.”

“Uh.” Steve pulled his eyes away, clearing his throat. “I was invited. I can go though. I can just…” He started to stand, but Gareth grabbed his arm.

“You don’t have to go. For someone who rants so much about conformity, you sure don’t like the idea of mingling with someone who isn’t into the same activities you are, Eddie.” Gareth smirked, popping a chip into his mouth. “Is that how you’re going to take the world by storm? You’re going to make sweet, sweet musical love to just the freaks and reject the money of the jocks of the world?”

Eddie made a face and snapped his teeth in Gareth’s direction. “Listen.” He slowly sat down, tucking his hand under his face, looking deep in thought. “…listen. Shut up.” He stared at Gareth for another long moment. “This feels like slander against my good name.”

“Unless it’s libel,” Grant muttered in a tone that made Steve think this was an inside joke of some kind. The way Becca groaned loudly and elbowed him just confirmed the suspicion.

Eddie glanced at Steve as he took a seat, pushing the tray aside and opening a thick binder. “D20, please.” He held out a hand, palm up, as he read something in the binder. Steve leaned in to try and get a peek, but the handwriting was all over the place, scribbly. He could hardly make out any letters upside down.

“Don’t you carry your own dice?” Jeff reached into his pocket and pulled out a few dark green dice, nudging them around his palm a moment before selecting one and reaching to drop it onto Eddie’s outstretched hand.

“Yes, but I’m superstitious, Jeffery.” He rolled the die against the table, giving a pleased little hum as he scribbled something down.

“That’s not even my name,” Jeff grumbled under his breath.

Steve frowned as he watched. Yeah, he was definitely confused now. “What exactly… is Hellfire anyway? I mean, I know you guys are some kind of club, but I don’t know what for.”

“Oh! We’re a Dungeons and Dragons club!” Gareth grinned. “It’s a tabletop roleplay game.”

“Oh, the nerdy game Nancy’s little brother plays. With the- the demogorgon, right?”

Eddie blinked as he stared at Steve like he’d never seen him before. “Steve Harrington,” he murmured, drawing out the e sound.

“...what?”

“Demogorgon? That’s the creature you know from D&D?” He squinted, making Steve’s heart beat a little faster.

“Yes?” It came out squeakier than he wanted it to, but he just sat there, stock still.

Eddie kept staring at him before shaking his head and looking back to his binder. “So fucking weird,” he grumbled, reaching for the die again. Steve watched as he wrote in the binder, watched as a few curls fell in front of his face. He let out huffs of air to blow them away, tapping his pencil against his lips.

It was only after a long moment of quiet that Steve realized he was staring. He jerked his eyes away, something akin to shame flooding his gut. Eddie was someone his old friends had made a target of. Calling him a freak was one of their pastimes. Steve liked to think he hadn’t been a part of it, but he’d never stopped them, had he? He’d just been a bystander. He’d always kind of been a bystander in his own life. He’d always accepted the path that was expected of him, always done the things expected of him.

Shit, this wasn’t the time for a full identity crisis. His head was starting to hurt. His head always hurt anymore.

He kept picking at his food, zoning out as sound washed over him. It wasn’t until a nudge to his side knocked him out of his head that he was able to shake away the clinging thoughts, feeling like cobwebs in the corners of his mind. “Hm?” He looked at Gareth, who was finishing up his lunch, a math worksheet off to the side of his tray.

“What math are you in?”

“Oh, uh, Algebra 2. Why?”

“Can you help me with this?” He nudged the paper towards Steve, and if it was anything other than word problems, he might have been able to. He was good enough at math when it was just numbers, but when he had to dig the math problem out of a paragraph, it just frustrated him.

“Um… I’m not great at math. I don’t know if I’m the guy you want to ask. I wouldn’t want to give you bad advice, you know?”

Gareth made a face. “Yeah, okay.” He gave a dramatic groan. “I hate math, I’m so much better at English shit. Math is basically another language. I’d rather be taking French.”

Steve laughed a little, still pushing food around his tray with his fork. “Yeah, I’d probably be more help with French.”

Grant looked over, expression surprised. “Really?”

“Yup.” Steve popped the p, shrugging. “My mother taught me a bunch as a kid. I don’t know as much as I used to, but I’ve been working on teaching myself again. I don’t know how much help I’d be with like, conjugation or whatever the fuck, but I know some vocabulary. Unfortunately…” He gestured to the paper. “It’s math.”

“Fuck math,” Gareth said sagely, making Steve smile a little.

“Yeah, fuck math,” he agreed. “It’s better than English for me, but I’m just not built for any of this academic shit.”

“You’re good at sports though, right? You’ll probably go far with that.” Jeff dropped another die into Eddie’s suddenly outstretched hand. “Dude, just use your own dice!”

“I only have the cursed ones with me!” Eddie snapped.

“...cursed?” Steve blinked in confusion, looking over at Gareth.

“He kept getting bad rolls. He’s shunning them until further notice.”

“How many dice does he have?”

“Well, one set has seven. And Eddie has too many sets. So a lot.” Gareth snickered as he was flipped off. “You’re halfway to a hoard!”

“And I’m getting glow in the dark dice soon. My collection won’t be complete until I say it is.” Eddie scrunched up his face at Gareth.

“You couldn’t put together a matching set if you wanted to!”

“And why would I want to? It’s more fun to just grab a handful from the bag.”

“This is why you never have the dice you need,” Grant muttered.

Becca shrugged. “It’s kind of festive.”

“Festive?” Gareth snorted. “It’s something.”

“Everyone shut up about my dice habits!”

Jeff reached to take his dice back. “Yeah, when you actually grab a d12 instead of six d4s.”

“D4s are the pointiest, therefore, the best.” Eddie shoved a cookie from his tray into his mouth, talking around it as he chewed. “It’s an improvised weapon! I get like, some kind of proficiency bonus!”

“Don’t be gross.” Grant made a face. “You’re so gross.”

“I’m a dignified gentleman.” Eddie opened his mouth and leaned towards Grant with chewed up cookie on his tongue. He paused when Steve snickered, looking over like he’d forgotten Steve was there.

Steve pretended it didn’t sting when Eddie closed off again and buried himself in his notebook. But Gareth asked him about basketball, and despite the fact that he didn’t seem to fully understand what he was talking about, he listened. It was kind of nice, even Grant and Jeff engaged politely, asking about something or another. Becca didn’t, mostly making fun of sports, which he guessed was fair.

A few months ago, he would have been making fun of their game, he could handle a few pointed jabs about throwing around balls in tiny shorts. It wasn’t anything he or the other guys on the team hadn’t made fun of before.

When the bell went off to signal the end of lunch, Steve was surprised to find himself a little disappointed. It had been nice to be able to just… talk to them for a while. He hadn’t realized how much he’d been aching for any kind of interaction. He’d become a loner ever since November happened. Sure, he and Jonathan talked from time to time, but beyond that, there wasn’t really anyone else. His teammates in basketball basically shunned him outside of a game, and everyone on the swim team kept to themselves. His parents were due back home soon, though. Maybe that would be good.

As he gathered his trash on his tray to take care of, Grant smiled at him. “Hey Steve, are you going to sit here tomorrow?”

Steve paused, looking back at him. “Really? Um, yeah, sure, if that’s cool.”

“It’s definitely cool!” Gareth grinned, bumping their elbows together. “You can sit with us whenever you want to!”

And Steve was sure he was only saying it to be polite, but the gesture was nice. “Okay. Cool, I’ll sit here tomorrow then.” Maybe the rest of the year wouldn’t be a total wash.

Chapter Text

Gareth was a persistent motherfucker.

Steve admired it, he did, but it was after the last class of the day and he could feel Carol’s glare against the back of his head. “Hi Steve!”

Steve jolted, knocking his shoulder against his locker door, making it swing and slam against the locker next to his, a metallic clang ringing through the hall. “Fucking- hi.” Steve took a deep breath, looking up at the ceiling. “Hi Gareth. Do you need something?”

“Are you busy?” He had that hopeful energy that only a freshman could have, all big eyes and fluffy hair.

“Right now? Uh, no. I don’t have anything going on. He grabbed his bag and hooked it over his shoulder, slamming his locker shut. “Why? Need something?”

“We start a new campaign today and I thought you might want to join us!” Gareth had to hurry to keep up with Steve.

“I don’t know if… I think Eddie hates me, I don’t want to like, drive a wedge between you and your real friends.” Steve winced a little as his tongue got caught between his teeth, still a little weirdly swollen in some places, though the worst of it had gone down.

Gareth all but pouted, scurrying forward to flip around and try to walk backwards in a mimicry of Eddie’s extravagance. “You’re my friend too.”

“…I am?” Steve hadn’t really made any new friends since freshman year, and most of them had pretty much abandoned him after the fight with Jonathan and subsequent friendship-ending spat with Tommy and Carol. Jonathan didn’t really count, they were still trying to figure out where they stood with each other, even after they agreed to try a fresh start. And he’d assumed the Hellfire guys were just waiting for him to get bored and wander off. He’d been trying to figure out when it would be appropriate for him to go back to spending lunch in the library and get out of their hair, it had been two whole weeks.

“Yes, duh.” Gareth rolled his eyes and Steve reached out to grab his backpack strap and steer him around a group of seniors.

“Not every person who talks to you is your friend, man.”

Gareth’s face fell and oh, fuck, that broke Steve’s heart a little bit. “So… we aren’t friends? But you’re nice and you sit with us at lunch and you say hi in the halls! I thought we were friends, Steve.”

“Fuck, that’s not what I-” Steve sighed softly, shaking his head. “We’re friends, you’re right. I guess I’ve just got to get used to people, you know, wanting me around again.”

“Great!” Gareth hopped in place, brightening, and Steve reached out to guide him again.

“Okay, you need to watch where you’re going before you fall.”

“I’m not going to-“ His heel slid on a sheet of paper, sending him crashing to the ground. “…fall.”

Steve peered down at him, the way his body awkwardly arched over his backpack. “You, uh, you good man?” He held out a hand.

“I’m okay.” Gareth clapped his hand into Steve’s and used it to pull himself up. “I’m fine. Backpack is super full so it padded my fall.” He brushed himself off and flashed that bright grin at Steve again. “So… are you going to come?”

“You’re sure it’s okay if I do?”

“Definitely.” Gareth nodded, looking incredibly sincere, and Steve wasn’t exactly looking forward to a quiet, suffocating night at home.

“Alright, you can quit twisting my arm.” He tried to keep his voice detached and uninterested, but something warm was filling his chest. “You know I don’t play, right? I don’t want to drag you guys down.”

“It’ll be a shorter campaign. We can whip you up a character. What are you, a magic user? A ranger? Maybe an assassin?” Despite his shorter stature, Gareth was moving faster with his excitement, fast enough that Steve had to scramble a little to keep up now. “You’d make a good fighter, I think!”

“Maybe I’ll just… observe for now. I bet I can pick up the rules by watching, then you won’t have to stop and explain.”

“Deal.” He turned down the hallway towards the band room. Steve only knew what was down the hall because of orientation back when he was a freshman, he’d never had a reason to really come this way. Keeping up with Gareth was a little harder as band nerds were making their way out of the hall. He paused when he saw someone who was passingly familiar carrying a horn of some kind.

She had dirty blonde hair in a, quite honestly horrible perm. She was laughing with another girl, but seemed to freeze when she saw him. She sat behind him in history, that’s how he knew her, he was pretty sure, but he couldn’t remember her name. He was pretty sure it started with R, but only pretty sure. He’d never been the best with names. They stared each other down until Gareth grabbed his arm. “Come on, Steve!”

“Yeah, yeah, keep your pants on.” Steve huffed a laugh, shaking his head a little as he was pulled into a room full of props and set pieces that smelled… pretty fucking musty. He could feel all the eyes dart towards him and he gave a sheepish wave. “Hey.”

“Hi Steve.” Grant looked away after a moment to keep rifling through his papers and Jeff just waved.

Eddie, however, stared him down, puffing out his chest. “Steve Harrington. Is no place sacred?”

“Hi Eddie.” Steve looked away, trying not to seem too uncomfortable under his gaze. “Gareth said I could come hang out.”

“Oh did he?” Eddie got up from his seat in a throne, stalking towards Gareth. “As the senior member of this club-”

“Eddie, don’t do the whole spiel, please.” Becca groaned as she shouldered past Steve, dropping an armful of books onto the table. “Just give the guy some assigned reading and let him sit in on our session. I’ve got hot lady barkeeps to seduce for information, let’s go!”

“I never agreed to you seducing anyone! I don’t want you flirting with me.” Eddie’s face scrunched up. “I don’t want to flirt with you, I’m gonna give you the unlucky dice!”

“Well it’s not me you’ll be flirting with!” Becca grinned, leaning her chair back on two legs and holding up a paper. “It’ll be Sir Wrynn the half elf druid. He’s very handsome.”

“Better than flirting with you,” Eddie grumbled. “...Wrynn is a pretty cool name though. He can flirt a little bit, but I’ll be drawing a line somewhere!”

Becca fistpumped and rocked her chair forward. “Hot lady barkeeps here I come.” She laughed when Grant held up a hand, giving him a high five.

Eddie turned his attention back to Steve. “As for you. You can stay, but try not to interrupt too much, ‘kay?” He tilted his head, short curls falling away from his cheek. Steve did his best not to stare or feel too offended. This was Eddie’s thing, his club.

“Okay. I’ll- I’ll stay quiet, promise.”

Eddie studied him for another moment before grabbing a book off the table and tossing it. Steve let out a short noise and snatched it out of the air, cradling it to his chest. “You can familiarize yourself with the monster manual for now. Take a seat by Gareth.” Eddie’s voice was dismissive and something close to dejection sat in Steve’s gut. He wanted Eddie to like him. He knew why he didn’t.

But it still sucked.

He sat down next to Gareth, who was carefully laying his dice on the table, tongue poking out as he twisted each of them to have the largest number facing up. “Eddie’s like a feral cat.”

“Huh?”

Gareth ran a hand through his hair, leaning in close to Steve. “He was like that with me at first too. And the other two freshmen, but they were dicks. They left in, like, October. But he obviously warmed up to me! He’ll warm up to you, too.” He smiled and once again, he saw the optimism that shone through.

“We’ll see.” Steve looked down at the book in his hands and ran his palm over the worm out cover. He recognized the unicorn and the dragon on the cover. He wasn’t so sure about the others, but he figured he could learn. He’d always tried his hardest to learn. He settled in to read, pleased that there was cool art of some of the monsters.

He was half listening as Eddie began to spin a tale of a faraway land of monsters and magic, a dingy tavern with raucous chatter, a mysterious figure cloaked in shadows. Grant took the lead of the party, as Steve quickly figured out was the term for their group. He found himself watching them play instead of reading about the Beholder, which had too many eyes for his taste.

Jeff sat up a little straighter when he spoke as his character, a regal elven magic user. Gareth lowered his voice to be a half-orc assassin and leaned over the table as if he was keyed up for a fight. Grant’s monk, which Steve figured out was a human, was quiet, only speaking up occasionally. Becca, or rather, Sir Wrynn, was flirtatious and seemed to be an adventurer for the fun of it. And Eddie went all in on theatrics. Wild gestures, character voices, and long tirades about the world around them.

It was like Steve could see the war torn landscapes, the crumbling castles that shone in the sunlight, the monsters that towered over the tallest of warriors. Every roll of the dice meant something new, from the successes by the skin of their teeth to the hilarious failures, no one knew for sure what turns the story would take.

He could see how the kids spent whole weekends (according to accounts from Nancy) playing the game. A few times, he leaned over to ask questions, but Gareth never seemed to mind, keeping his voice low as he explained spell slots and long rests and armor classes. Steve wasn’t about to run his own campaign (another word he learned!) or anything, but he could follow along as the party trekked across the Wild Coast.

He listened as they played, occasionally looking back down at the book in his lap. He was so invested in the story that it was a shock when Eddie stood up, sending his throne back a few inches. “And that, my darlings, is where we will leave it for today.”

“Aw, what?” Gareth groaned, slumping down in his seat. “We’re just gonna stop there?”

“Some of us have social lives,” Eddie said, voice light and teasing. “Duty calls, Sir Gareth. Get your shit packed up so I can lock the door.”

Steve blinked as everyone began to sort through papers and collect dice. He looked down at the book of monsters, which he hadn’t made much progress in, and thought for a moment. He flipped forward a few sections, and there, staring at him from the page, was the demogorgon. Except… it wasn’t really.

Instead of a segmented, eye-less face, it was a creature with… two heads. “Huh.” He frowned, chewing on his lip. It was nothing like the monster that haunted his nightmares and panicked daydreams. Eddie peered over his shoulder, short curls brushing Steve’s cheek. Steve jolted, nearly falling off his chair. “Christ, someone needs to put a bell on you.”

Eddie scoffed. “Maybe you just need some situational awareness, Harrington. The demogorgon, huh? You mentioned that a couple weeks ago.”

“Yeah. I uh, I didn’t realize it had… eyes.” Steve closed the book and pushed it towards the edge of the table. “This is yours, right?”

“Mhm.” Eddie picked it up, leafing through it for a moment. “I’ve had this for a few years. Been a dear companion since freshman year. My uncle found it at the thrift store, thought it sounded like the fantasy books I read, and I’ve been hooked ever since.” He slammed the book shut and added it to the pile at the head of the table. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“How’d you come to know what a demogorgon is? It’s not exactly surface level knowledge.”

Steve drummed his fingers on the table and did his best to think about anything other than flickering lights and Jonathan on the ground and Nancy firing round after round from a gun. “Nancy Wheeler. I dated her for a little bit. Her brother and his friends play, guess I picked up a little bit from that.”

“Interesting…”

“Is it?” Steve stood up with a nervous laugh. “Fantasy stuff is pretty cool. You know, dragons and magic and shit, every kid is into that kind of thing.”

“We just don’t get basketball players dropping by too often. We aren’t exactly the people you tend to be seen around.”

“Well, I’m not exactly the person I used to be.” Steve shrugged, leaning back when Eddie took a step closer. “Listen, if I ever- I didn’t-” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, trying to collect his thoughts. “I was a dick. I was an asshole who let his friends drag him into shit because I was too much of a coward to say anything about it. I ran any time there was even a whiff of conflict because I’m a coward.” Eddie’s expression shifted a little at that and he cocked his head, gesturing for Steve to keep talking. His ears were burning, but he pressed on. “But I realized that I don’t want to be like that anymore. I want to be a better person. I’m sorry if I was ever a dick to you, Eddie.”

Eddie nodded slowly. “Huh. Well, if you’re deciding to have a character arc in the middle of the school year, I won’t stop you. But I’ll believe it when I see it. Consider your apology… hesitantly accepted.”

“That’s all I ask.” Steve held out his hand. “I’ll make the same offer I made Jonathan Byers. If I start acting like a dick again, you have my full permission to kick my ass.”

Eddie gripped his hand tightly. He had a strong grasp and calluses on his fingers. Steve liked the way they felt against his skin and found himself looking down at their clasped hands, the breath knocked from his chest. Before either of them could say anything more, Jeff snickered as he picked up his bag. “Something to add, Jeff?” Eddie looked over, quirking an eyebrow without letting go of Steve’s hand.

“I don’t think you could kick anyone’s ass. Let alone Steve’s, and he lost a fight to the floor.”

Steve sputtered, letting go. “I didn’t lose a fight to the floor!”

“I don’t know, that’s what it sounds like from how Gareth told the story.” Jeff smirked, dodging a swat from Gareth.

“I did not! Steve, I didn’t!” It was almost a whine as Gareth launched himself at Jeff. “Get back here!”

Becca grinned, picking up her bag. “This has been fun, but I’ve got shit to do. You should come back, Steve. You can help me flirt with girls.” She winked at him before heading out of the room, her shoes echoing down the hall.

“I’m pretty sure you’re the one who lost a fight to the floor,” Steve said with a little grin. “If you weren’t wearing a backpack, your head definitely would have smacked against the ground.” He flicked Gareth’s forehead, laughing when he was tackled. Or… it was an attempt at a tackle. Gareth was kind of tiny.

“You’re gonna regret it when I hit a growth spurt.”

“I’m sure I will.” Steve gave him a condescending pat on the head.

“He’s been threatening me about growth spurts since seventh grade.” Jeff perched himself on the edge of the table, swinging his legs. “He hasn’t quite lived up to them yet.”

“I’m going to steal your shins.”

Eddie leaned in close to Steve. “He’s like a tiny dog. I’m thinking a pomeranian.” Eddie made a weird hand gesture, but somehow, Steve completely understood.

“Because of the hair?”

“Because of the hair.” Eddie clapped a hand down on Steve’s shoulder, giving him an appraising look. “I was expecting… different from you.” Steve shivered when Eddie’s hand brushed against his skin where the collar of his shirt exposed it.

“Different?”

“This really isn’t an act, is it?” Eddie met his eyes, and wow… wow, his eyes were pretty. Steve could gaze at them all day, the way the light caught them was, well, wow. “You really want to change.”

“Yeah. I don’t like who I became. Who I still am? I don’t know when I get to say that I’ve changed, maybe I don’t get to say I have. But I’m trying. I hope that’s enough.”

“Well, I was expecting you to come in here and make fun of me and my guys. But… shit, you were getting into it, weren’t you?” Eddie dropped his hand with a chuckle. “Maybe I’ll have to thank the kids that introduced you into the wonderful world of fantasy role playing games.”

“Games plural? I thought Dungeons and Dragons was the only one.”

“Oh, there are others. A lot of them have a similar basis but different types of systems for magic and role play. We stick to D&D here, but maybe I can show you some of my other books sometime?”

Steve nodded slowly. “I’m… not a very fast reader.”

“That’s alright. I can condense it down for you, my liege.” Eddie grinned. “I’ll bring them to school sometime and you can have a look.”

“Cool. That sounds cool.” Steve nodded and picked up his bag, digging through it for his keys. “Thanks. For letting me hang out with you guys. This was really cool.”

“Maybe next time you can play with us. I’ll plan a decent starter campaign.” Eddie patted Steve’s shoulder. “See you Monday?”

“Yeah.” Steve nodded as they left the drama room, the halls quiet as Grant, Gareth, and Jeff’s voices faded down the hall. “I’ll see you Monday.”

Chapter Text

Jonathan’s bedroom was a lot like Jonathan. Comfortable and unassuming, but interesting if you looked for more than just a moment.

Jonathan tossed his bag onto a chair shoved in the corner and gave a sweeping gesture. “Um, just make yourself at home, I guess?”

“Thanks.” Steve stood awkwardly in the doorway, shuffling his sock clad feet over the carpet. “Thanks for inviting me over.”

“I mean, it was either this or hang out at your place. I’m scared that if I breathe too hard there everything will break.” Jonathan gave a faint laugh and sat cross legged on the bed. “No offense.”

“Don’t worry, it feels like that for me too.” He crossed the room, taking a moment to look at the Evil Dead poster on his wall. “Do you still watch horror movies? After… everything that happened?”

“Not much anymore. I used to work at the movie theater, but… well, one too many showings of Videodrome, and I was starting to fall apart at the seams. All the blood, I just…” He let his voice trail off and sighed. “Managed to sweet talk my way into a job at the hardware store. Pays about the same.”

“That sucks.” Steve sat down on the edge of Jonathan’s bed and looked down at the floor. “Do you like it there at least?”

Jonathan shrugged. “It’s a job, I can’t complain too much. It smells like sawdust, and that’s kind of nice. I know more about power tools than I used to. And that all the farmers in town are super specific about what kind of manure they use.”

“Huh. They’re really serious about shit?”

“Literally.” Jonathan huffed out a quiet laugh and got back up, looking through his collection of cassettes. “Any requests?”

“I have a feeling you don’t have Journey?” Steve gave an awkward smile when Jonathan shot him an offended look. “I’m cool with whatever you have.”

“The Ramones it is.” Jonathan fed a tape into his boombox and sat back on the bed as drums and guitars filled the quiet. It wasn’t really the kind of thing Steve listened to, usually just flipping through the radio until he could find something to quiet his mind. Or he’d put on a record in the living room, Springsteen or the Beatles most of the time, the music his parents listened to. But it wasn’t bad, he could see himself driving with this kind of music playing.

He tapped his pencil along to the beat on his thigh and shifted as Jonathan flipped through a notebook of lecture notes from his history class. His handwriting was worse than it used to be and he knew at least half the words were misspelled. It’s why he hated when he had to study with other people, when he had to share his notes. It was embarrassing.

His essays always came back with a blanket of red ink.

Jonathan squinted at the writing with a frown. “Okay, I’m not entirely sure what point you’re trying to make with this essay outline.” He turned the notebook to show Steve, the page covered with his hastily written outline.

“It’s, um, it’s about The Great Depression and how the government screwed people over. Like, farmers were really fucked over by some of the policies and farms got taken back by banks and shit, which just made it harder for communities to get food, right?” Steve rubbed the back of his neck. “Does that make sense? Maybe I should just write about rationing. Or World War 2.” He shifted uncomfortably.

“No, no, it’s not a bad topic, but it’s disorganized.” Jonathan grabbed a pen, writing in the margins. “Okay, so this should be your second paragraph. It’s a good point, but it’s better for a body paragraph instead of your introduction.”

Steve nodded along as Jonathan drew arrows and circled different points. He started to fidget more as the margins became filled with notes. “Are you sure I shouldn’t just… start over?”

Jonathan glanced up. “Hm? Yeah. Steve, you have good ideas. These are… really good ideas, you just need to reorganize them. It needs to flow.” He handed the notebook over with a smile.

“Flow, right.” He had no idea what that meant, but if he nodded along and did what Jonathan told him to, he was sure he’d make sense of it at some point. He preferred multiple choice questions. They were easier for him, he didn’t have to think about how words ‘flowed’, it was just a simple choice. The frustration began to grow tight in his chest, his slow breaths making no real progress in untangling it.

When he glanced over at Jonathan, he was flipping through chemistry notes, attention pulled away. Steve could write an essay though, he’d probably written hundreds at this point. But with Jonathan sitting right there, it felt more daunting, more embarrassing.

He squinted at the ink scribbled across the page, the blue from Jonathan overlapping with black. Jonathan’s handwriting was neater, but that didn’t mean it was easier to read. Steve’s fingers twitched as he began to write on a clean page, transferring the notes from Jonathan and trying to reorganize his thoughts. He wasn’t sure he totally knew what that even meant.

He rocked slightly as he wrote, occasionally glancing up at Jonathan. “So. Um. How’s Nancy? We haven’t talked much since… well.” He trailed off, eyes flicking towards Jonathan’s face.

Jonathan paused his writing, pen held just above the paper. “Nancy is… well…” He paused for a moment and looked up at Steve. “She’s having a hard time with everything. And I guess Mike is being a little terror in his own right, and she’s sort of left to make things… normal at home.” He tapped the pen against the corner of the page, leaving behind tiny dots of ink. “She visits the Hollands a lot. She’s taken me with her once or twice, but… I didn’t know Barb. So it’s weird.”

Steve nodded and resisted the urge to shove his pencil in his mouth, bite down on it so he had a reason to stop talking, even though he was the one who started the conversation. “I didn’t really know her either. She was around a lot, with Nancy, but I never put in the effort to get to know her or anything. Sucks that she’s gone.” Steve knew it didn’t sound quite as sympathetic as he felt, but he was worried he’d tank right back into the particular spiral of guilt that seemed to grasp at him whenever he heard a whisper of Barb’s name.

“She was always with the really smart kids. I heard she wanted to be a writer, I guess she and Nancy had that in common. Barb wanted to write fiction, though. Nancy says she was really good, I think she has a notebook of her writing somewhere.”

“Oh.” The gaping pit in his chest was opening its maw. “I bet she was good. She had these really clever insults sometimes. She mostly just called me an airhead though.” He tugged lightly at a lock of hair. “I hope it gets, you know, easier for Nancy. We don’t really talk much.” He wasn’t sure if he’d said that already, but if he had, Jonathan didn’t point it out. “Maybe I should reach out more.”

“I think she’d like that.” Jonathan glanced up as the tape stopped in the middle of a song. He swore softly and got off the bed to mess with it, leaving Steve with his thoughts for a moment.

He wasn’t… staring. Okay, maybe he was staring a little bit. Jonathan had a nice figure, nice hips. He wondered what it would be like to put his hands on them, pull his body closer. He was smaller than Steve, his head would probably slot under his chin. He’d have to bend down if they kissed.

If they…

Steve shook his head a few times, biting the inside of his cheek. Jesus, he needed to get his mind under control. He looked down at the notebook open in his lap and tapped his pencil a few times to try and drag his mind back on track. A part of him wanted to run.

He wasn’t scared of the fact that he had a crush on Jonathan, it was the fact that it was, well, on Jonathan. One of the few people who could stand him. And Steve was feeling less alone than he had in a long fucking time, if he ruined another perfectly good thing-

He wasn’t going to run, not this time. He could be mature about this, could write a good enough essay with a little bit of help. He only glanced over at Jonathan once more before ducking his head back down to focus on writing again. Staring at the page wasn’t doing much for the pressure building around the circumference of his skull.

He tapped his pencil against his thigh between scribbling lines down. By the time the music started again, he’d written two whole paragraphs. “Hey, making good progress.” Jonathan’s knee bumped against Steve’s as he got back on the bed.

“Thanks.” Steve winced when his voice cracked and he cleared his throat. “What, um, what was wrong with the tape?”

“Just some dust. Was worried the tape was ruined, that would suck.”

Steve nodded, rocking in place a few times before biting down on the end of his pencil, just for a second. Jonathan was already back to doing his work, but it felt like agony to decipher the letters in the margins. He didn’t understand why it was so hard for him. He’d been trying, actually trying for months now, but it still felt as frustrating as it had before. Maybe there was just something fundamentally wrong with him.

Maybe his father was just right about him.

That thought sparked a rebellious side of him to squint a little harder at the moving letters to try and get them to stand still. He didn’t want to be what his father thought he was. He knew that his life had a path, one he wouldn’t ever be able to deviate from, but he could take the little things. He could find rebellion one way or another, even if it was trying just a little harder than he thought he could, staring at wobbly notes through a headache, writing an essay on something he was only partially familiar with.

Jonathan got up again after a little while with a mumble that he was going to the bathroom, Steve responding with a sound in the back of his throat of acknowledgement. There was a feeling of strangeness when his focus was broken a moment later. He was sitting in someone else’s room without them there.

He looked around, but there wasn’t a whole lot that he hadn’t noticed. He did see a few little drawings laying across various surfaces, ones he recognized as being from Will. He shifted on the bed to lean over and reached out to pick one up off the little bedside table. It was definitely older, the edges crumpled and the crayon strokes a little less sure than on the newer drawings he’d seen. It was cute though, two figures in what looked like some kind of fort, the sky scribbled dark blue with a bright moon.

“I see you found Will’s ‘Castle Byers’ drawing.” Steve jolted, almost dropping the paper, but Jonathan just laughed. “It’s fine, I don’t mind.” He sat back down, leg tucked under himself. “He drew that when he was maybe 7 or 8. We actually built it.”

Steve nodded. “Yeah, I think he’s mentioned it before. Out in the woods, right?”

“Mhm. Mom and, uh, and Lonnie were having this big blowout argument, you know? And Will was pretty upset, so I had to do something. I remembered his drawing and asked if he wanted to go build it for real. We spent the whole night out there, even when it got really cold and started to rain. Didn’t even come back in for our jackets. We were sick for the next couple of days, but god, we spent so much time in it.” Jonathan took the drawing, his fingertips softly touching the crayon. “He… doesn’t go back there much anymore.” He cleared his throat and set it back on the table. “But it was fun when we built it. Sometimes I miss when he was that little. Not that he’s very big now, but… he was a sweet little kid.”

“He’s still really sweet.” Steve smiled at the thought of Will as a little kid.

“Yeah, but back then he wasn’t picked on for it. I can’t… I can’t protect him.” Frustration seeped into his voice. “I can’t even protect myself.”

“You can fend for yourself pretty well. When… you know, when it all happened, you held your own really well. I didn’t know what the hell was going on but, fuck man, you protected even me. You’re a protector, it’s in your nature.” Steve rested a hand on his shoulder. “You make him feel safe, you know. Isn’t that enough?”

“It doesn’t feel like enough.” Jonathan rubbed a hand over his face, but some of the tension left his posture. “Thanks, Steve. I just feel like I should be doing more.” He flopped backwards, laying right on top of his chemistry textbook. “Ow.”

“You can’t do anything more than what he’ll let you.” Steve felt out of his depth here. He wasn’t an older brother, he didn’t have any siblings. He didn’t have any real advice. “You’re being there for him. Maybe that’s all you can do.”

“I wish he’d just… let me in more. I want to fix it. I can’t.” He looked up at Steve, a quiet falling between them as they considered each other.

The tape reached the end of the track, clicking before the room fell into a real silence. After what felt like hours and hours of agonizing silence, but was likely less than a minute, Steve spoke up quietly. “If you can’t fix it, maybe you can help… him fix it for himself?”

“I don’t know if there is anything to fix. Maybe he’s just different than he used to be. And I have to accept that. Maybe I’m the problem.”

“I don’t think you’re the problem, Jonathan. I think that… I think that maybe the real answer is in the middle somewhere. You’ve both changed, but you still love each other, right?”

Jonathan sat up, moving the textbook he’d been laying on. “Of course. I’d do anything for Will.”

“Exactly. And I know he looks up to you. You’re his big brother, man. He adores you.” Steve smiled as Jonathan ducked his head and looked away. He reached for his notebook again and twirled his pencil in his fingers, the motion soothing.

Jonathan sighed, opening the book and holding it up over his face. “I wish being a good brother was enough to let me pass chemistry.”

“That’s something I can’t help you with. Nancy’s got her flash cards though, you might be able to get her help.”

“I might ask.” Jonathan let the book lower until it was draped on his face. “I don’t care about covalent bonds, Steve.”

“Gonna be honest, I don’t remember a goddamn thing about that.” Steve laughed, reaching over to pat his thigh. “Good luck.”

“Hey, I helped you with your essay.”

“If it makes you feel better, I’m just scraping by and this essay will probably be the best paper I write all year.”

“...I can help you more if you want.”

Steve made a face, suddenly feeling a rush of shame. “Nah. As long as I don’t fail, I’m good. I mean, I’ve always been good enough to pass my classes, you know?” It sucked even more, knowing that no amount of trying made it easier, but he just needed to scrape through the rest of this year and next. He could do that.

“Alright. I’m pretty good at writing essays, though. Just let me know if you need help. I mean, we’re friends, man.”

“Really?” Steve blushed, clearing his throat. “Um, yeah, right.” He smiled a little.

They were friends. Fuck yeah.

Chapter Text

It was not Steve’s day. He was halfway to nodding off in English, his first period class, as Ms. Click droned on and on about a book that Steve had only barely managed to read. The text had been tiny and it wouldn’t stop wiggling on the page no matter how much he squinted.

He also hadn’t slept, plagued by a persistent nightmare of someone floating above him and filling his chest with dread. He could only recall a flash of red hair and cloudy blue eyes dripping with tears of blood. He didn’t know why the nightmare was clinging to him so badly, but he couldn’t shake the empty pit in his chest. His eyelids were heavy and he struggled to keep them open, his cheek slipping from his palm. He jolted upright after his chin knocked against his desk, tongue throbbing in a phantom pain that made him wince.

“Sorry,” he muttered when Ms. Click turned her gaze to him. He tried to keep his head down without falling asleep for the rest of class, listening to the low chatter of other students. Tammy Thompson was looking at him, he could feel her eyes on him. She didn’t stare at him the way she had in the beginning of the year, this was a distinctly different kind of stare.

Steve knew what eyes on him felt like. His life was cut into two halves. The half where he was being watched and the half where he wasn’t. The half where he had to grin and bear it, and the half where he could dwell in the silence and wilt. Girls had been interested in him, had been watching him, for most of his years in school so far. He was, well, he had been attractive and athletic.

Girls didn’t look at him that way anymore. Now he was just a guy who was pretty good at basketball and lost fights and spent time with the freaks. He didn’t care what people said about him, but he’d become more aware of what they said about his friends, aware of what he’d used to say about his friends.

He rubbed his eyes with a faint sigh, but a low voice from behind him caught his attention. He couldn’t remember her name, but he was pretty sure her last name was Buckey or something. She had a terrible perm, but sharp eyes and freckles, mouth pulled into a scowl. She was scribbling in a notebook and muttering to herself, words that were familiar in a distant kind of way.

He’d been spending his sleepless nights trying to translate the recipes in his mother’s cookbook with a French to English dictionary he’d checked out from the library. Unfortunately, it was slow going and frustrating, the dictionary written in possibly the world’s tiniest font and the recipe cards written in loopy cursive. But if he had someone who could understand the cards without having to refer to a dictionary, there was still hope that he could make the recipes and try to connect to a part of his family he’d never met.

As soon as the bell rang, he hopped up from his desk and turned to face the girl. She looked up at him with an unimpressed expression and got to her feet. “Can I help you, Harrington?”

“Um… R- Rebecca? Right?”

She rolled her eyes. “Wrong. Can I do something for you?” Her tone took on an annoyed edge.

“Rose?”

“Oh for two. Do you want to run through every other R name you know, or are you going to ask me for my name?” She began to gather her books. “It’s not like we’ve been in the same class since the beginning of the year.” She gasped, like she was remembering something, but the sound was dripping with sarcasm. “Oh wait.”

“Shit wait, wait, wait. I really need to ask you a favor. Please? I promise I’ll remember your name.” Steve wasn’t begging, he didn’t beg, but… he really could use her help. He’d already renewed the dictionary twice.

“Robin Buckley.” She stared at him flatly. “I really doubt I can do anything to help you. We don’t exactly run in the same circles.”

“...I mean, my friend Gareth is in marching band.” When she didn’t answer, he gestured. “Fluffy hair, about yay high? Dorky little freshman? You can’t miss him.” She rolled her eyes and picked up her notebook. “Wait, wait. Um, were you speaking French earlier?”

“Italian.”

“That’s like… the same thing, right?” He squinted at her.

“What? No.” Robin stared at him. “They’re… they’re two different languages. I mean they’re sister languages and overlap a bunch but that’s- no.”

“...do you know French?” Steve asked softly.

“I kind of hate that I do.” Robin started to walk, which had Steve scrambling to catch up. “I’m not doing your French homework for you.”

“No, it’s nothing like that. It’s like, a personal thing.”

“A personal thing? Oh gross, do you have some girlfriend from France you’re trying to flirt with?”

“No, no, no, nothing like that, ew.” Steve cut her off before she could turn the corner. “Just hear me out, please. You can say no, but hear me out first?”

Robin cocked out her hip and sighed, giving him a flat look. “You have 30 seconds.”

Steve shifted his weight and held his books tighter. “Okay. Okay, listen, I have this… this cookbook, it’s my mother’s. And it’s all in French and it’s been a nightmare to translate. It’s all I have to… you know, connect with her.”

“All you have to connect with her..." Robin’s eyes went wide. "Holy shit did your mom die?”

“What? No.” Steve blinked at her, frowning. “Why would you- nevermind. Listen, I’ve only been able to translate a few recipes enough to use. Like, a quiche, and something that I think is supposed to be a custard, and I’m halfway through some weird soup recipe. A couple basic desserts. I thought I’d pick it back up, but maybe I just never learned enough, you know?”

“Pick it back up?” Robin used her shoulder to push past him, but he was quick to follow when she glanced back over her shoulder. “What do you mean you never learned enough?”

“My mother started teaching me as a kid. It’s her first language, her family moved to Chicago when she was a teenager. And she wanted me to know it too, so she started teaching me some like, right after I learned to talk, but never when my father was around. And then she stopped completely. So I don’t know enough to translate the stupid recipes.”

She stopped at her locker, staying quiet for a few long moments as she swapped out her books. Steve was starting to get nervous when she turned around and seemed to consider him, her gaze feeling like she was scanning him for something. “Okay.”

“You’ll do it?”

“Sure, but only because I’m reasonably sure I can overpower you if I really need to and I don’t have any other plans.” She sighed. “Am I coming to your place? Because I’ll need a ride home after.”

“Yes, yeah! I’ll wait for you in the parking lot after school?”

“Yeah, sure. And this definitely isn’t some weird scheme to hit on me or try to get me in your bed, right? Because I’m seriously not interested. The whole mommy issues thing won’t work on me like that.” She slammed the locker shut.

“I don’t have mommy issues!” Steve said it a little too loud and flushed when he felt eyes turn towards him. “I’m not trying to sleep with you, okay? It’s really just the recipes. Cross my heart.”

Robin nodded, swearing under her breath when the warning bell rang. “Okay. I’ll see you after school, then.” She muttered something else that Steve couldn’t hear, but before he could ask her to repeat herself, she was already rushing down the hall, cutting through the crowd in practiced movements.

Steve stood by his car at the end of the day, leaning against the hood as he watched people leave. He lifted a hand in greeting when Jonathan passed, sharing a small smile with him. He watched as Jonathan got in his car and drove the short distance up to the middle school, presumably to pick up Will.

“Steve!”

“Gareth, hey.” Steve laughed as Gareth launched himself at him. Gareth was touchy, touchier than any of his other friends had been. It was… nice, getting easy hugs and punches to the shoulder. Gareth clung to him for a moment before letting go. “What are you up to?”

“My mom has the night off, so she’s picking me up. I’m going to help her with grocery shopping and errands and shit.” He stood on his toes to look around the parking lot.

“Cute, you still run errands with your mom?” Steve couldn’t help his grin, tone taking on a teasing edge.

“Uh, yeah. My mom is cool, you jerk.” And there was one of those punches to the arm, drawing a laugh from Steve.

“Okay, okay, fair enough.” He smirked and nudged Gareth with his elbow. “You should tell her I said hi, give her my number…”

“Ew! Dude!”

“What? You said she’s cool.” Steve laughed harder as Gareth slapped at his arm.

“Don’t hit on my mom!”

“I’m not hitting on her! I’m asking you to give her my number so I can hit on her in the future.”

“Dude!” Gareth looked like he wanted to laugh, but was staunchly holding it back.

“You’re hitting on moms now, Harrington? Maybe I was right about the mommy issues.” Robin came stalking over, a messenger bag on her hip and a weird looking trumpet case in her hand.

Steve waved a little awkwardly, lightly pushing Gareth away. “I already told you I don’t have mommy issues.”

“You kind of do,” Gareth piped up. “Hi Robin.”

“Emerson.” She nodded at him, grinning when Steve glared at him. “You’re touchy, aren’t you? I am learning so much about you today!” Steve didn’t like how thrilled she sounded about that.

“This is really just about the recipes. I just want to be able to make stuff, okay?”

Robin laughed, adjusting her bag. “Alright, alright.”

“You can put your trumpet in the back.” Steve unlocked his car, looking back to see Gareth and Robin sharing a look. “What?”

“It’s a French horn, dingus.” Robin put the case in the backseat and Steve groaned.

“Does it really matter?”

“Hey, you’re relying on me for my French skills, and that includes the horn!”

“The horn is unnecessary.”

“Now you’re just being rude.” Gareth grinned and laughed as Steve pushed the side of his head.

“Go find your mom, dude. Robin and I have stuff to do.” He shooed him off.

“Love you Steve.”

“Love you too, Gareth.” Steve shook his head and got in the car to start it, Robin climbing in the passenger seat. He could feel her staring at him. “What?”

“So… you and Gareth?” Robin raised an eyebrow, clutching her bag to her stomach.

“Huh? Oh, nah. I don’t think I’m his type.” He kept his tone light, hoping to pass it off as a joke. Besides, Gareth’s type was definitely dorkier than him, if Jeff was any indication. “Hey, seatbelt.”

“Oh, sorry.” She pulled it on and Steve waited for the click to start driving. She was still watching him as he pulled away from the high school towards home. It was quiet for a few minutes, long enough that he jolted when Robin spoke up. “You’re more interesting than I was expecting.”

“Thanks?”

“Oh come on, all I know about you is through the gossip I hear. And there’s like, a lot of it. You’re not in a cult, right?” She leaned closer to him over the center console with a grin. “I heard you’re in a cult now.”

“Cult? Jesus, no, Hellfire is literally school sanctioned.” He rolled his eyes. “No, I just joined the Dungeons and Dragons club. I fell out with the assholes I used to hang out with and got adopted by a freshman. It happens to everyone.”

“It happens to no one.”

“It happens to me.” Steve sighed and nudged her aside so he could look both ways at a stop sign. “The last year has been really weird for me. I think overall like, good, but weird.” He rubbed a hand against his temple. “Not even a year, god.”

Robin kept watching him. “Maybe you’re cooler than I thought you were. Like, actually cool, not whatever Hawkins thinks cool is.” She leaned back in her seat. “This town is a monster.”

Steve shot a glance her way and gripped the steering wheel tighter. “What do you mean by that?” Monster? Did she know? The lab hadn’t exactly been secretive enough, not if a kid had escaped and whatever that monster had been. Who knew if something else had escaped and clued other people in?

“Yeah, man. It traps people here. No one gets out!” She sighed, slumping back. “Almost no one. But I’m going to get out someday. I’m gonna go to Europe, to New York, wherever life takes me.” She dug out her notebook. “I’ve got it all planned out.”

“Oh. Cool, cool, cool.” She didn’t know. Of course she didn’t. “You uh, you gonna go to France?”

“Ideally.” She hugged the notebook to her chest. “I really hope so.”

“That’s really cool.” Steve sighed as he pulled up to the house. “I bet Europe is cool.”

“You’ve never been?”

“Huh?” He got out of the car. “No, I stay in Hawkins for the most part. You know, aside from like, driving to neighboring towns and sometimes Indy for the day. I’ve been to some of my parents’ other places, like the New York apartment, but they um, well, it’s been a long time since then.” He watched as Robin shoved the notebook back into her bag and followed him up to the door.

“Their other places?” Robin rocked on her heels. “Like, aside from this stupidly big house?”

Steve cringed and ushered her inside. Stupid was the most apt description he could think of. He had a quiet resentment for all of it. “Yeah, um, a place in Miami near my father’s sister which is probably just for tax breaks. I mean, this place is probably for tax breaks. Or just an easy place to keep me.” He shrugged. “Can I get you something to drink? Water, Tab, uh, milk, maybe?”

“Tab? You drink that shit?” Robin cringed and set her bag on the nearest couch. “It’s gross.”

“It’s not that bad! It’s diet, you know.” Steve crossed into the kitchen. “I’ll just get you some water.” He grabbed a can of Tab from the fridge and filled a glass with water. “I have the recipe book in the dining room!”

He heard Robin moving around in the living room and looked around for a snack or something to offer her. The cabinets were pretty bare, he needed to go to the store. He had enough to last another few days, though. He was sure he could push it off a little longer, though.

He opened the soda and took a sip. He took a moment to center himself before making his way into the dining room. The recipe book was sitting on the table by the dictionary from the library, cards scattered across the table like an unfinished jigsaw puzzle. Robin had taken a seat and was looking at them with a hum. “I think you might be having trouble reading some of this, your translations are… weird.”

Steve set the glass down on the table and pulled up a chair. “Yeah. I mean, I do a lot of the translating in the middle of the night, so I guess the letters get a little jumbled. I’ve never been good at reading cursive, you know?” He rocked back and forth on the chair a few times.

Robin nodded and started to write on one of the blank cards. “I mean, if you have trouble reading English in cursive, French isn’t going to be easier, you know?”

“I guess.” Steve sighed, taking another long drink of his soda. He watched her write for awhile, swinging his legs and scuffing his feet against the floor. “So, you speak French and Italian?”

“Mhm. I started learning French when I was in elementary school. My parents have friends who like, travel and explore the world. One of them, Jessie, she was telling me about France when I was probably 7 or 8, so that year for Christmas, I asked my parents for a book about French. It spiraled out from there.” She slid a card across the table to Steve, a translated recipe for some kind of fish. “I think I’ve checked out just about every book on linguistics from the library.”

“That’s cool.”

Robin frowned and tapped her pen against the table a few times. “No, it’s not. It’s… it’s dorky, I know it is.”

“That doesn’t make it not cool.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean, I know I was a total dick, but I hang out with Gareth and his dorks now. They’re really cool, you know? Like, they know who they are and they’re all totally confident in it. They don’t give a fuck about what assholes like me think about them. They don’t care about what other people think they're supposed to be.”

Robin watched him with a quizzical look on her face. “You’re not what I was expecting, Steve.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve heard that a lot.” He looked down at his lap. “I know I was a dick.”

“Eh, not really.” Robin clicked her pen open and closed a few times. “I mean, you were really… indifferent to anyone who wasn’t you or part of your little circle. Which isn’t that big of a deal if you really think about it.” She leaned forward, like she was getting a better look at him. He felt like he was being studied under a magnifying glass. “You’re really just a guy like the rest of us.”

“Oh. Um… Thanks?”

“Anytime. I mean, come on, you’re not all that important in the grand scheme of things.”

“Is this supposed to make me feel better or worse about myself?”

“You can feel however you want to about it. I don’t care.”

“...alright.” He fell quiet again and watched as she kept writing. Strangely enough, it did make him feel a little bit better. He’d gotten into a few fights over the years, had said some shitty things. But maybe he wasn’t the worst person to ever exist, maybe he didn’t have to constantly strive for atonement for things he wasn’t even sure he’d done.

Robin was weird. But he was really enjoying her company. She was quick and funny.

By the time the sun was going down, most of the cards were translated into English and both sets were tucked back into the recipe book. Robin stood up and stretched, downing the last of her water. “Hey, I took the bus to school today, do you think you could…?”

“Oh, yeah, I’ll give you a ride home. Your uh, your French trumpet is still in my car, anyway.”

Robin huffed a little laugh and elbowed his arm. “French horn, dingus.” She went to get her bag from the living room as Steve took the glass into the kitchen, setting it in the sink and throwing out his can. Part of him wanted to ask Robin to stay, to keep laughing and talking and filling the house with something other than the beating of his own heart.

But he grabbed his keys and swung them around his finger, pulling his sneakers back on. He tucked the French to English dictionary under his arm, thinking he’d be able to swing by the library to drop the book off, finally done with it for now. Maybe he could ask Robin to come back sometime, to teach him so he could read it himself, so he could talk to his mother in her first language. He wondered if it made her feel lonely, to not be able to talk to his father. He only knew English and it felt like he couldn’t talk to his father. But instead he just asked “Are you ready?”

Robin nodded, her bag slung over her shoulder. “Yeah, I’m ready.” She flashed him a smile, something a little more genuine than she’d ever given him. Something in his chest warmed as he locked the door behind them. Robin tugged at the handle of the car door as he waited. He rolled his eyes and jogged over to unlock it.

By the time he was pulling up to her house, the street lights were coming on, casting odd shadows across the roads. Robin hardly seemed to notice the shadows as she got out and gathered her stuff. “Thanks for the lift!”

“Thanks for helping me.” Steve lifted a hand in a little wave and watched, waiting for her to get to the door. She gave a big dramatic wave before going into her house. Steve let out a big, heaving sigh and started the drive home. He hoped Robin would want to hang out again sometime.

Chapter Text

“Hey Hopper.” Steve sipped his spiked punch as he stepped into the light of one of the streetlamps, watching as Robin’s parents argued with her in the middle of the parking lot. Hopper sighed, staying quiet for a long moment as he wiped sweat from his forehead. Steve’s shoes squished with every shift of his weight, and the punch leaking from them was bright red against the pale concrete. He made a face as gnats swarmed around his head in the almost-summer heat, swatting at them with his free hand.

“Harrington.” His voice was gruff as he looked over at Steve. “Shouldn’t you be in there? Heard they’ll be announcing prom king soon.”

Steve’s forced laugh wasn’t bitter, but there was a hollow note to it. “Nah. Unless Munson decided to rig the votes, there’s no point. And I’m pretty sure he left after Robin ran out. Something about not being able to top what she did.”

“You’re hanging out with Munson now?”

“Yeah.” Steve leaned against Hopper’s truck, cringing as he took another sip of the punch. “The hell do they put in this? It’s so fucking sweet.”

Hopper snatched the cup and sniffed it, giving him a look. “You do know I’m the chief or police, right?”

“Hey, I’m at prom, I’m drinking the punch. Was hoping for something stronger. Maybe I’ll crash an after party.”

“Harrington.”

“A joke, it was a joke! I’m not actually going to any after parties. Not in these shoes.” He cast a glance at Robin, but turned away when he saw her dad hugging her. The bitter taste in his mouth wasn’t jealousy, it was the cheap vodka from the punch. “So… how have you been? Since… well, you know.”

“Fine.”

“Good, that’s good.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, looking down at his red shoe prints. “Everything is… normal?”

Hopper’s expression softened slightly, the creases on his forehead relaxing. “Yeah, kid. Normal as they can be. Biggest problem I’m dealing with is prom crashers these days. No… infestations.”

“Good.” Steve rubbed his cheek, trying to ignore the churning anxiety in his gut. “I just… worry. Ms. Byers has me keep an eye on Will sometimes, and every time I’m watching him, I feel like… he’s going to disappear again or something. Like I won’t be able to keep him safe if something happens again.”

“He won’t.” Hopper rested a heavy hand on his shoulder, and Steve was struck with the urge to cringe away and shake it off. He didn’t. “Have you been sleeping?”

“Yeah.” He didn’t look at Hopper, but it wasn’t technically a lie. He slept through the night a lot more than he used to, at least a few times a week. The bags under his eyes weren’t as dark as they used to be. “I start working at the pool next week. I’m going to be a lifeguard again this summer. So that should eat up some of my time.”

“Thinking about college yet? I imagine you want to get away from here.”

“More than anything.” He swallowed, looking up at the sky, stars bright against the inky black. “I’ll be sending in some early applications in the fall, my father has… there are a few schools I’m expected to apply to.”

“And where do you want to go?”

Steve let his gaze drop, staring out at the middle school across the way. He hadn’t had a conversation like this with anyone but the school counselor, he could usually dodge this kind of question with anyone else. Why did Hopper care? “Does it matter? I just need to be somewhere else. I’ll figure out the rest later.”

“Well, what do you want to do? Some schools are better than others.”

Steve felt small under Hopper’s gaze. “I’m not… I haven’t given it much thought. The things I used to want just seem stupid now. Who’d have thought, right?” He let out a sigh, swatting at the gnats again, if only to have something to do with his hands. “I might be able to get some sports scholarships or something. I guess I’ll just go to whatever school accepts me that my father approves of, graduate with a business degree with a 2.0 GPA, and take whatever nepotistic job my father gives me at his firm. I’ll die at 68 and make zero impact on the world because I peaked at 16.”

“Sounds like you’ve given it more thought than you give yourself credit for.”

“I’m not… I’m not destined for great things, Hopper. I don’t think I’m even destined for mediocre things. I’m going to look back in thirty years and I won’t have any concrete regrets because I’m not going to do anything. I’ll just be another piece of shit in the Harrington line.” Steve let his head fall forward, forehead thunking against the truck. “I should have had more of that punch.” Hopper was quiet for a long moment, long enough that it was starting to get uncomfortable. When Steve lifted his head, Hopper was staring at him. “The punch thing was a joke.” It wasn’t.

“Been awhile since I had to shut down one of your parties.”

“Yeah, well, been awhile since I wanted to throw one.” The idea of throwing a party made him feel vaguely sick, the idea of having his guard down was terrifying. If he stopped being aware of his surroundings, who knew what would happen? The punch was the first real drink he’d had in months. “I think I’m just going to go home.”

Hopper shook his head. “Sorry kid. I think you better stay a while longer since you’ve been drinking.”

“Are you kidding? Please say you’re kidding.” Steve wasn’t pouting. He wanted to go home and forget about the clawing anxiety that spread through his chest at the thought of his future, the bleak landscape he was looking upon. “Hopper,” he groaned. “I just want to go home.”

“30 minutes and I’ll let you go.”

He groaned again, wordless. “My shoes are wet,” he complained. “And my socks are probably stained red now.”

“Why don’t you go talk to your friend over there?” Hopper gestured towards Robin, who was sitting on the curb now, while he lit a cigarette.

Steve sighed, loud and overdramatic, but trudged over to Robin, leaving more red footprints in his wake. “Hey.”

“Hm? Hi Steve.” She waved before tugging at the sleeves of her jacket.

“How much trouble are you in?” He sat down on the curb next to her, knees pulled close to his chest.

“So much,” she groaned. “I kind of hit a couple cars when I got here.”

“What happened? I thought you had like, big plans. And you’ve gone on the record to bitch about prom.”

“Yeah. But my plans didn’t pan out. My parents figured out I was going to, uh, run away to Europe? So all the money I’ve been saving up all year is going to getting a new car, fixing the ones I hit. And I’m so fucking grounded. Which… to be fair, I was already. I snuck out of the house and stole the car.”

She’d mentioned spending the summer in Europe a couple of times since they’d met, but he had no idea it was some secret plan, that she was going to run away. He understood the urge to run away though. He was sure she felt bad enough without him being bitchy about it. “Man, you must be a really bad driver.” That was bitchier than he intended, and for a moment he was scared he’d fucked up, that maybe he hadn’t really changed and he was still the same asshole he’d once been. But then she laughed, which was good. Some of the anxiety unwrapped itself from around his ribs.

“Hey!” She punched him in the shoulder. “I’ve only driven like, twice before tonight. I think I did pretty good, given the circumstances.”

Steve laughed and rubbed his arm like she’d hurt him. She hadn’t. “Yeah, well, I get it. Wanting to be out of Hawkins.”

“You do?”

“Mhm. I mean, I have some decent friends now. Some really great friends actually, but… you’ve said it yourself. Hawkins is a monster. It’s not just the school, it’s the whole goddamn town. And I can’t… I can’t stay here forever. If I don’t get out of here soon, I’m worried that I’ll never get away.”

Robin leaned back, planting her hands on the sidewalk to look up at the sky. “If you don’t leave, you’ll die here.” It was an echo of his own thoughts.

“Or I’ll follow in my father’s footsteps. I don’t know what I want, but I know it isn’t that.” Steve rubbed his eyes, feeling the beginnings of a headache. “I’m hoping to figure it out by the time I start college.”

“I’m sure you’ll do something cool enough.” Robin shrugged. “Maybe you can be a groupie for Eddie Munson’s band.” She grinned.

Steve snorted and lightly pushed her arm. “Shut up, I’m no one’s groupie. Not Eddie’s!” He tried not to think about that too hard. He’d seen Eddie play his guitar just a few times. He had nice hands, long, calloused fingers that would probably feel good-

Steve shook his head to try and clear his thoughts like an etch a sketch. Robin was staring at him with interest, but before anything could be said, her dad was coming over. “Robin, it’s time to go home.”

She winced and stood up, brushing off her dress. “Okay. Uh, I’ll see you around, Steve.” She lifted a hand in a wave as she followed her dad over to her mom, where someone was waiting to drive them home.

Steve laid back with a sigh, making a face when the sidewalk dug into his back uncomfortably. The sky was clear, dotted with bright stars, but he closed his eyes against them. Why was he so tired? He always felt so tired.

“Why are you laying on the ground?”

“Hi Becca. What are you doing out here?” Steve opened his eyes to see her standing over him, peering down with a raised eyebrow. “Chief Hopper won’t let me leave so I’m waiting him out.”

“I needed some air. It’s way too warm in there. Why won’t he let you leave?” She stepped off the curb and sat down next to him, smoothing out the dress over her legs.

“He caught me drinking the punch. The very spiked punch.”

“Ah.” She looked at his shoes and grinned. “The spiked punch that’s soaked into your socks?”

“The same punch. Very cool of Robin to knock the bowl over. She could have… not.”

“It was kind of cool of her. Way more exciting than anything else that would have happened.” Becca grinned wider. “She’s kind of cute, don’t you think?”

“Hm? I guess. I don’t think she’s really my type. And she’s made it clear I’m not hers, so..” He shrugged. He’d never really thought about it. Sure, Robin was pretty, but he’d just never thought about her in a potential partner kind of way. She was just Robin, his friend. “She’s pretty cool.”

“Yeah. She is.” Becca sighed. “If she hadn’t showed up, can you believe how boring tonight would have been?” She scoffed, watching as a few people left, mostly couples giggling and running off together.

“Yeah. Boring. I was hoping Eddie would make things a little more exciting.”

“You two seemed to be having fun, seemed like he was making you laugh a lot.”

A blush rose in Steve’s cheeks. He frowned and looked away, watching a line of ants march across the concrete. “He’s funny. I kind of wish he’d stay longer. Or that the other guys were here.”

“Jeff and Grant will probably come next year. Maybe Eddie can convince Gareth to crash with him.”

“He won’t have to crash next year. He’ll be able to actually buy a ticket. I mean, I doubt he’ll be a senior for a third time, right?”

Becca laughed. “Right. Man, that’s like, half of Hellfire that’s graduating next year.”

“Eddie’s gonna have to recruit some freshmen or something.” He hummed, thinking. “Little Byers is… no, no, not next year. Year after, he and his friends are going to be coming up here. Maybe they’ll take the reins.”

“I still can’t get over the fact that you babysit.” She giggled. “I mean, you’re Steve Harrington. People used to be so scared of you.”

Steve’s stomach dropped. “Yeah. Yeah, I know.” He dropped his head, rubbing a hand down his face. “I know. I don’t… I’m not like that anymore, though. Right?”

“No! Shit man, no, of course not. You haven’t been like that in a long time. I wasn’t sure about it when Gareth said he was going to invite you to sit with us, but now I’m really glad you’re my friend.” She snickered. “Besides, it’s not like you ever hurt anyone really. You were just kind of bitchy.”

“What did Gareth say exactly?” Steve looked up curiously, choosing to ignore the comment about his bitchiness.

“Well… he said that you seemed lonely. Like you could use a friend, you know? And I think he was right. You were so tense that first day, like you were scared one of us would bite you.”

Steve remembered being scared. Sure, a little bit of the fear was towards the Hellfire Club, he hadn’t known what to expect, but he was more scared of loud noises and flickering lights. The cafeteria had been a lot to deal with after everything happened. Fuck, before everything happened, he’d always felt off balance and a little overwhelmed. “Well, he was almost right. I could use a few friends.” He leaned to press their arms together. “You guys are better friends than… well, any other friends I’ve had before. Not that the competition was all that steep, but still.”

She laughed, leaning back to gaze at the stars. “You’re full of surprises, Harrington.” She looked back towards the school and made a face. “I should probably head back in there. I totally ditched my date.”

“Ditched your date to hang out with me? I’m flattered.”

“Don’t be.” Becca pushed a hand against his cheek, giggling. “You’re not exactly my type. Shawn Briggs though? Also not really my type, but… he’s showing me a decent enough time.” She got up and brushed off her dress. “You going to be alright out here?”

“Oh yeah. I’m well acquainted with my own company. I’ll see you Monday?”

“You know it!” Her short heels clicked as she walked away, leaving Steve feeling a little lighter.

He turned to look back at Hopper, who tapped his watch. “You can go in five minutes!”

Steve groaned loudly and laid back down, bracing himself for the longest five minutes of his life.

Chapter Text

Sweat was dripping down Steve’s back as he tugged at the whistle around his neck, eyes scanning the pool for the fortieth time in five minutes. He was almost done for the day, just another 15 minutes before he could swap out with Gabrielle. He pushed up his sunglasses enough to rub his eyes, sighing. It had been a pretty quiet day, the only real problem being kids running.

Speaking of… He blew his whistle and pointed. “Hey, walking feet, Emerson!”

Gareth raised an eyebrow at him, looking him dead in the eyes as he took slow, deliberate steps. It was almost enough to have Steve giggling, but he kept a straight face as he watched Gareth smack into Grant’s back. Eddie cackled from where he was sitting under one of the umbrellas, his laughter carrying across the pool.

Eddie had mentioned that they didn’t usually hit the pool in the summer, but Steve had practically begged them, if only to see a few friendly faces while he was working. It helped with the monotony. And Jeff usually brought snacks, which he was nice enough to share.

Steve glanced at his watch before splashing caught his attention. One of Will’s friends, Lucas, he was pretty sure, was being held under the water by… his little sister. He blew his whistle at her. “Hey! Don’t drown your brother!”

She honest to god rolled her eyes at him before letting him up. Damn kids.

He sighed, keeping an extra close eye on the siblings as his shift ticked to an end. He perked up when Gabrielle came out, putting on a pair of sunglasses. “You’re good to head out, Steve!”

He got down from the chair, taking off his whistle. “Thanks, I think I’m going to hang out for a while, but have a good shift.” He headed inside to drop his first aid kit and whistle, putting on another layer of sunscreen. When he came back out, he almost ran into a familiar face. “Oh. Nancy, hey.”

She adjusted her sunhat and gave him a small smile. “Hi Steve. How have you been?”

“I’ve been okay.” He rocked on his heels, looking down when he heard feet padding over. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite Wheeler!” He crouched down with a smile. “Hi Holly.”

She looked up at Steve with big blue eyes, clutching Nancy’s leg and waving. “Hi,” she whispered.

“Are you going to go swimming?”

“Uh huh.” She giggled a little.

“Wow, you’re really grown up, huh?” Steve stood back up, smiling. “She’s bigger than she was the last time I saw her.”

“Yeah, around Christmas, right?” There was still some awkwardness there, but Steve figured it was better than it used to be. “She uh, she asks about you sometimes. Guess you really made an impression.”

“I’ve always been good with kids. I try to treat them like I wish I was as a kid.” He shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. “Are you taking her swimming?” He looked at her outfit, a regular tank top and shorts, not exactly a swimsuit.

Nancy glanced back at the pool and her expression cracked into something almost frightened. “I haven’t gone swimming since… um…” She looked down at the concrete and sighed, gripping the strap of her bag tightly.

“Barb,” Steve whispered. Nancy flinched at the name. Her expression switched back to something neutral and unaffected. But like she was wearing a broken mask, Steve could see pain and fear written across her face. “I could take her in the pool for you. I mean, I am a certified lifeguard after all.” He didn’t think she’d want to talk about it. He knew he didn’t want to talk about the guilt, creeping and sticky in his gut and throat. Guilt that didn’t go away or ease and he could only hope it would just… stop someday.

Nancy looked down at Holly and brushed her hair away from her face. “What do you think, Holl? Do you want to go swimming with Steve?” She nodded, reaching up at Steve. “Alright, make sure you stay with him, then. Steve, I won’t be far, okay?” She gestured to the other side of the pool, towards an empty lounge chair.

Steve nodded, bending down to pick Holly up, holding her on his hip. “You know where we’ll be. Are you ready to go swimming?” He bounced her lightly, making her squeal with giggles, clutching his shoulder. “Alright, let’s go!”

Sighing as Mike ran past him to jump in the pool, he shared a look with Nancy and bit back the urge to yell at him to slow down. He made his way around the pool to the shallow end, wading in slowly. Holly wiggled in his arms as he lowered her into the water, letting out a little shriek. “Cold!”

“It’s a little cold, but it’s okay.” He got her into the water, laughing when she splashed. “Is that fun?”

“Who’s the pipsqueak?” Eddie sat down on the edge of the pool, dangling his legs in the water.

“This is little Holly, Nancy’s baby sister.”

Holly tugged at his hand. “Not a baby!”

“Of course, that’s my bad. She’s a very big girl.”

“And very brave!” Eddie laughed as he watched the two of them. “She’s a natural. She must be part fish!”

Holly looked up at Eddie with a nervous expression, clutching Steve’s hand tighter. “Oh, that’s Eddie, Holly.” Steve knelt down in the shallow water. “He’s my friend!” Steve gave Eddie a bright smile and he seemed to falter a little.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, Stevie and I are friends. Is he your friend too, Holly?”

Holly nodded, smiling. “Do you swim?” Her voice was soft, but it made Steve grin. She was a little girl of few words, especially to people she didn’t know. For some reason, seeing how good Eddie was with her made his heart beat a little faster.

“Oh, not much.” Eddie slipped off the edge and into the pool, the water hardly reaching his knees. “But I feel safe with this big guy around. He’s the best swimmer I know!” Eddie clapped Steve on the shoulder with a grin, looking down at him.

Oh geez, this was going to be one of those realizations, wasn’t it? On his knees in a public pool with Eddie standing next to him.

He tore his eyes away from Eddie, smiling at Holly. “Do you remember how to float? I taught you that last time!” He kept his hands under her as she held out her arms, squealing as she picked her feet up off the ground. “I’ve gotcha! You’re doing so good!” He held her up for a moment before pulling his hands away, grinning as she floated in the shallow water.

This was one of his favorite parts of the job, working with the little kids. There was something nice about it. They were the ones that usually listened when he told them not to run, they didn’t talk back, and most of them weren’t little terrors. Holly was giggling as she floated, swinging her arms to propel herself, Steve staying close to her side.

Eddie crouched down, grinning. “So, do you hang out with your ex-girlfriend's baby sister often?”

Steve snorted at that. “Obviously. She’s my bestest friend in the whole wide world, Eddie.” He scooped her out of the water, grinning when she shrieked with laughter. “We’re best friends, aren’t we Holly?”

She nodded eagerly, clinging to him as he held her on his hip. “Best friends!” she echoed.

“Well, best friend, do you want to see something funny?” Steve grinned when Eddie squinted at him curiously. Holly nodded, clutching Steve’s shoulder. Steve reached out and put a hand on Eddie’s chest, pushing him.

Eddie let out a shriek, flailing as he lost his balance, splashing in the shallow water. “Hey!”

“Your stance was super unbalanced!” Steve grinned as Holly giggled.

“Oh shit, are we pushing Eddie?” Jeff grinned, sitting down on the edge of the pool with Grant right behind him. Gareth hopped in with a bright grin, peering down at Eddie.

“Hey! Language! We’ve got a perfect little girl over here who doesn’t need your terrible influence!” Steve covered Holly’s ears as best he could, glaring at Jeff halfheartedly. “But yes, we are pushing Eddie because it’s funny.”

“It’s pretty funny.” Grant kicked some water at Eddie, making him sputter and flail. Gareth took pity on him, holding out his hands to help him up with a little laugh.

“It’s not! Steve, you’re a lifeguard! You’re supposed to be a good influence.” He was fully pouting as he struggled to get back to his feet with Gareth’s help. It was pretty cute.

“I’m such a good influence. Look at how good Holly is at swimming now.” Steve gestured to the girl as she paddled around, all smiles and giggles. “There’s my favorite girl!” He scooped her out of the water when she swam back towards him, holding her up towards the sky.

She squealed, kicking her legs. “Steve, no!”

“No?” He brought her down to his hip, bouncing her a little. “You don’t want to be up high?” She shook her head, holding onto his arm. “That’s okay, we’ll stay here, we don’t have to be up high.” He looked over at Eddie and flashed a grin, something content and pleased curling in his gut when Eddie’s cheeks turned red. And definitely not just from the sun.

“Down.” Holly squirmed in his arms and he nearly dropped her. “Whee!”

“Careful, hey!” Steve laughed and lowered her into the water, watching as she swam towards Eddie, looking up at him.

“...hi?” Eddie put his hands on his hips. “Can I… help you?”

Gareth snorted. “Have you ever seen a kid before dude?”

“I’m not- I’m no babysitter, okay?”

“You have long hair!” Holly pointed at him with her little hand.

“...Yup.” Eddie nodded and crouched down in the water. “Long hair and… wet shorts now. Yippee.”

“You’re silly!” Holly put her hands on his knee, peering up at him curiously. “It’s pretty.”

“Thank you?” Eddie looked at Steve, seeming freaked out, and oh, okay, yup, this was a crush. This was a crush, Steve desperately wanted to kiss him. Not knowing what to do, he just flashed an awkward thumbs up. “It’s longer than it used to be. It’s going to get longer too. I’m thinking down to here.” He held his hands at his shoulders.

“But you’re a boy!”

“I am. But boys can have long hair! And do you want to know a secret?” He waited for her to nod. “Girls can have short hair.”

“Woah! My daddy has short hair.” Holly held up her arms and Eddie glanced at Steve, who mimed picking her up. Eddie nodded and leaned down to pick Holly up, holding her uncomfortably. “His hair isn’t pretty.”

“Only some boys have pretty hair.” Eddie nodded. “Steve and Gareth both have pretty hair!”

Steve laughed and Gareth flushed bright red at that. “It’s not pretty!”

Jeff nudged him with a grin. “It’s kind of pretty, man.” That only seemed to embarrass Gareth further as he covered his face and nearly curled in on himself.

“See, that’s the difference between us, Gareth.” Steve leaned against the side of the pool and patted Gareth’s leg. “I can accept the fact that I’m a pretty boy. You still get embarrassed about it. You gotta embrace it.”

“I’m not embracing shit.”

“Hey, language. If you’re gonna cuss, do it in the deep end.” He shoved Gareth’s leg, earning a flick in the forehead for his effort. “Ow, hey!”

“You started it.”

“No I didn’t! Eddie did, he’s the one who called you pretty!” He ducked away from Gareth’s hands, sticking his tongue out at Grant, who looked far too amused. “Don’t look at me.”

“I’m looking at you, sorry.” Grant just grinned, leaning in to whisper to Jeff. Steve only glared when Jeff started snickering.

“You’re terrible friends.”

“We’re great friends, actually. You’d put up with us even if we weren’t though.”

“Yeah, until it got me punched in the face!” Steve grinned, appreciating the way Gareth was trying desperately not to laugh, Jeff was staring down at the water, Grant was openly laughing, and Eddie was cringing. “Okay, if I’m able to joke about it, you guys can laugh.” Sure, he missed Carol and Tommy sometimes, even now, but he mostly missed the history he had with them. But now he had better friends, people that made him feel cared about and seen.

“Oh thank god,” Gareth wheezed, nearly pitching forward. And then he did fall with a splash, Grant’s doing by the look of it.

“There he goes.” Jeff shook his head. “Gone too soon.”

“He’ll be missed.” Eddie nodded, bouncing Holly on his hip. “Can you say bye bye to Gareth?”

“I’m not dead you-”

“Hey!” Steve smacked a hand over Gareth’s mouth. “What did I just say about the language?” Gareth licked his palm. "Oh my god, ew! What are you, five?”

“Bye bye.” Holly giggled, tucked against Eddie’s side.

“You’re turning the child against me? This is so rude.” Gareth sat down in the pool, pouting. The water was at his neck.

“You’re the child here.” Steve crouched down in front of him. “Are you here for swimming lessons?”

“Bold words for someone in dick kicking range.”

“Language! Jesus, you’re worse than the middle schoolers.”

“That’s barely a swear and you know it.”

“The last thing I need is a phone call from Karen Wheeler because her 3 year old daughter is swearing up a storm because of one of my friends.” Steve flicked Gareth in the forehead with a grin. “I’ll push you like I did Eddie, watch yourself.”

“You’re a terrible lifeguard.” Gareth shoved Steve’s arm, snickering. He flicked his other hand in the water to splash him.

“Jeff, Grant, drag him to the deep end.” Steve put his hands on his hips, grinning as the other boys moved in closer to him. Jeff swooped in and lifted Gareth bridal style, grinning.

“I’m not much of a dragger, how’s this?” He grinned, arms shaking under Gareth’s weight.

Gareth went bright red, pushing at Jeff’s chest. “Put me down, put me down, put me down, oh my god I’m going to jump into the quarry!” Jeff just laughed and held Gareth tighter to his chest.

“Okay, okay, you need to take him to deeper water in case you drop him.” Steve laughed and pushed Jeff’s arm.

“Nah, I won’t drop him.” Jeff flashed a grin and waded towards deeper water, Gareth settling a little, thrashing less.

“Man, they’ve both got it bad.” Grant rolled his eyes, sighing. “They’re so gross.”

Steve felt his stomach drop at that. “Gross? For what?”

Grant’s eyes widened. “Oh. Oh, shit, no, not like that! They’re just obnoxious because they’re my friends, not because they’re both guys.”

Eddie snickered, bumping his shoulder against Steve’s. “Don’t worry, no one in Hellfire would get very far if it was like that. I’d never let that happen.”

“Good.” Steve cleared his throat, taking Holly when she reached for him. “That’s good.” He sighed and leaned into the faint touch. “You’re good with Holly?”

“Yup! We’re great friends now. Practically besties.” Eddie blew a kiss to Holly, grinning when she blew one back. “A little princess, true royalty!” He bowed, absolutely beaming when she giggled and held onto Steve.

“And you were so scared of her five minutes ago.” Steve sighed, making a face when he was splashed by some passing kids. “I’m glad this is just my summer job.” He leaned back against the side next to Grant, letting his legs sort of drift out in front of him.

He watched Eddie with Holly, barely noticing when Grant got up and made his way towards the deep end. He only pulled his eyes away when someone tapped his shoulder. “Steve?”

He tilted his head back. “Oh, hi Heather. What’s up?”

“Are you available to work on Wednesday? Open to close?” She winced a little. “You know how it gets around the fourth, like, almost everyone has plans.”

“Yeah, sure. I could use the extra hours anyway,” he lied. “And I don’t have plans.”

“Thank you so much!” She grinned. “My parents made last minute plans, so I thought I’d have to stay behind, but now I don’t.”

“It’s no problem. You have a good holiday, alright?” He gave her a big smile that felt too forced as she got up to walk away. It slipped as he turned back to look at Eddie again. “Happy birthday to me,” he grumbled to himself.

Eddie cocked his head. “Birthday? Shit, is it your birthday?”

“What? No, how did you hear that?” Steve watched as Holly swam over to him, catching her and rising to his feet.

“You’re louder than you think you are, Harrington.” Eddie sat down on the edge of the pool. “When is your birthday?” He nudged his knee against Steve’s arm.

He sighed, holding Holly close. “It’s the fourth. But I don’t do anything for it, okay? I don’t like to make a big deal over it or anything. It’s just another day, you know?”

“Sure, sure.” Eddie nodded, but he didn’t seem fully convinced.

“Don’t tell the others either. I’m serious, I don’t want anyone to know. I just want to let the day pass by without any fanfare or whatever.” When he’d been a kid, he had memories of watching the fireworks out the window and pretending they were for him. That his birthday was worth celebrating. Then, when he was a little older, he’d gone to the big parties people threw for the fourth and drink until the cops broke them up. This year, he’d spend it at the pool. Fun.

“Alright, I won’t tell anyone. But hey, after your shift, why don’t you come over? Wayne’s making hot dogs. And he grills the buns!”

Steve snorted as Holly splashed her hands in the water. “Yeah, we’ll see, okay? Come on, I want to go bother Gareth, let’s get this little sweetheart back to her sister.”

“Nancy!” Holly smiled widely at him and he nodded.

“Yeah, Nancy!” He scooped her up and held her on his hip as he got out of the pool. “I’ll be back in a minute, Eds.” Nancy was laid in one of the lounge chairs with a book and looked up when he came over. Holly wiggled in his arms and reached for her. “Hey Nance. Cool if pass her back to you?”

“Oh, um, yeah, yeah.” She set her book aside and grabbed a towel, holding out her arms. She smiled softly and took Holly, wrapping her in the towel. “Did you have fun with Steve?” Holly nodded with a giggle and cuddled in close, sitting on Nancy’s lap. “Thanks Steve.” She looked up at him and sighed. “I really didn’t want to get in the pool, and Mike is… well, he’s 13. He’s not exactly a pinnacle of responsibility, I would’ve worried about her being with him, you know?”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. She was a little angel, though. She’s becoming a really great swimmer.” He bent down with a grin, holding up a hand to Holly. She giggled and smacked his hand, laughing harder as Steve groaned and pretended his hand was hurt. “Woah, I think you’re getting stronger!”

Nancy hugged her sister and kissed the top of her head. “Thanks again, Steve. Do you think… you’d be willing to do this again sometime? She clearly had a lot of fun, I just don’t think I’m ready-”

“Yes.” Steve gently cut her off. “Of course. I work most weekdays and every other Saturday. Usually like noon to 4?”

“Yeah, that sounds good.” Nancy sighed softly and looked out at the crowded pool. “Well, I don’t want to keep you, I know your friends are here…”

Steve nodded, rubbing his arm. “Yeah, I’ll see you around, Nancy.” He wiggled his fingers at Holly and turned to walk off. Things with Nancy were awkward, and part of him wondered if it would always be like that. He got along well enough with her, but it was obvious they both had some hang ups after what had happened in November. He’d have to get Holly a birthday gift though, he knew it was coming up next month.

Eddie was wringing out his hair when he got back to the edge of the pool. “There you are, Stevie!” He hopped out of the pool and Steve had to fight to keep his eyes on Eddie’s face and not stare at the water dripping down his body, at the way his board shorts clung to his legs. “Ready to go bother the other guys? I’m pretty sure I heard Jeff laughing way too loud at something. Bet you five bucks it was a terrible joke from Gare.”

“...you’re on.” Steve grinned and walked with Eddie to the deep end, jumping in to splash Gareth, who sputtered and tried to kick at him under the water.

“Hey!”

Chapter Text

“No, no, I’m telling you, she definitely winked at me.” Gareth rolled a die between his hands. “She was looking right at me!”

“I’m pretty sure she wasn’t!” Grant flipped between his papers, sliding one towards Eddie. “You sit in front of the guy on the football team, right?” He looked over at Gareth. “She was probably looking at him, not some scrawny little freshman.”

“Hey, he’s not scrawny!” Jeff frowned and tried to kick at Grant, but he missed, kicking Steve’s shin instead.

“Ow.” Steve made a face at him and pulled his leg away. “He’s not scrawny though, he’s… well.”

Gareth pouted. “She could’ve noticed me, though. And I’m not a freshman anymore!”

Jeff made a face and tapped his pencil. “I’m not saying that she couldn’t have. I’m just saying that you can do… better.”

“Better than Lana?” Gareth shook his head. “She’s so cool. She’s the captain of the debate team! And she’s only a junior!”

Steve muffled a snort and schooled his expression to a more neutral one as Becca raised an eyebrow at him. “Sorry, sorry. Cool has a very different meaning to you guys than it did for me. Debate team wasn’t exactly… cool in my circles.”

“That’s why you run in our circle now, Stevie!” Eddie tapped him on the head with Grant’s paper. “We define cool in different terms. Cooler terms.” He bumped up against Steve’s side. “But no, Gareth, Lana isn’t cool.”

“Dude!” Gareth sighed. “Come on, I’m a sophomore now. Isn’t it time I start doing… something? Other than Dungeons and Dragons? I’ve never been on a date or been to a party or, you know, snuck out or whatever? This is supposed to be my coming of age!”

Steve laughed, leaning forwards against the coffee table. “You don’t want to get tangled in all of that. You’re not cut out for it. You’re too… sensitive. And you’re a band kid.”

Eddie was the one who snorted this time, leaning over fully to slump against him this time. “You need to hang out with more band kids. They’re like, the horniest people ever. Well, maybe second to drama kids, it depends on the production they’re working on.”

Becca nodded. “I’ve only had one hookup, and it was a girl in theater and drama. God, she was hot. It’s too bad she moved to Arkansas for school.” She propped her head up on her chin as she doodled in the margins of her character sheet. “I don’t think she wanted more than a hookup though. Anything else would’ve been, well, a little too dangerous in this town.”

“I know that all too well,” Eddie said softly. Jeff reached over to pat his arm and gave him a tight, sad smile. Steve and Gareth shared a confused look, but Eddie and Jeff didn’t offer any more information. Instead, Eddie pushed the paper back at Grant. “I get what you’re going for, but your weapons are a little overpowered for your level. Play your cards right and you’ll work up to the enchanted mace. Maybe stick to something without enchantments and you can earn some?”

“Yeah, I kinda thought you’d say that. I didn’t think I’d get it past you.” Grant sighed, taking his paper back to make the adjustments. “It’d be cool if I could start out with something cool…”

“It’s a fresh campaign! Our first one of the year! You have to start out as lame, it’s like, the whole point. A clean slate for new types of stupidity.” Eddie flipped through his Monster Manual, humming to himself. “I’ll even be nice, only start you out with a monster of level-” He trailed off to hum in thought, pretending to flip through more pages. “3.”

“Wow, so nice of you,” Gareth deadpanned as he leaned back against the couch. “I can already smell the blood as we die miserably.”

“If it’s the will of the dice, we have no choice but to obey.” Becca pressed a hand to her forehead. “The will of the dice!”

“The will of the dice!” Jeff and Eddie echoed, laughing and holding up their hands.

“Ah shit, we’ve definitely joined a cult,” Steve joked as he elbowed Gareth. “This is what the guys on the basketball team warned me about.”

Eddie gasped, leaning in over the table. “They warned you? About Hellfire?”

“...yeah?”

“Yes!” Eddie pumped his fist. “Finally! I have a reputation! This is what I’ve been working for my whole life! People are scared of me and think I run a cult!” He looked way too pleased about that, in Steve’s opinion.

Jeff shoved him and grinned. “Anyone who is scared of you clearly hasn’t listened to you talk. Or have any idea how much you cry.”

“Hey!”

“Remember last week when we were at the quarry? You started crying over a snake, dude.” Jeff threw a die at Eddie’s head, cackling when it got caught in his curls.

“I thought it was going to kill me!” Eddie’s cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink as he wrangled the die out of his hair, trying to kick at Jeff, but hitting Steve instead.

“Okay, I need everyone to keep their feet to themselves, please. If I get kicked one more time…” Steve trailed off as he realized he didn’t have any decent threats. “I’ll… um…”

“Take your time,” Gareth drawled, poking his arm with the eraser end of a pencil.

“Shut up, just stop kicking me!” Steve crossed his arms. “I’m an innocent bystander. …bysitter?”

Grant laughed at that, pretending to kick Steve in the shins. “Clever, Harrington. Very clever.”

“I’m not just a pretty face.” Steve stuck his tongue out, basking in the warmth of the trailer. He slumped over, head nudging against Gareth’s shoulder. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to make a character that isn’t totally underpowered. I want to play as a gnome, because playing as a human is lame-” he said that part pointedly at Grant, who flipped him off easily, “-and I’ve never had a gnome character before. But I don’t know what kind of weapon to give her.”

“A baseball bat,” Steve suggested. He was a little biased. “They’re great weapons.”

Eddie looked at him with a little grin. “You’d be such a tavern brawler, wouldn’t you?”

“Huh?” Steve cocked his head a little, furrowing his eyebrows. “Like… a bar fighter?”

“Kinda! It’s someone who uses improvised weapons. Whatever is close enough to grab, anything that isn’t a traditional weapon.”

“Oh, like… chairs and plates and shit?”

“Exactly!” Eddie beamed. “We’ll get you playing in a longer campaign before you graduate. Maybe our winter campaign?” He leaned in close and Steve could swear he was fluttering his eyelashes, his long, pretty eyelashes.

“We’ll… we’ll see, I just don’t know if I’m good enough. I don’t want to bring the rest of the party down, you know?” Steve shifted his weight and looked down at the coffee table. He reached out to snag one of Gareth’s dice to roll it between his hands. “I’m not sure I’ll be any good at keeping track of what’s going on, but I like listening to you guys play!”

Grant hummed, tapping his fingers on the table. “Well, you’re a part of Hellfire just like the rest of us.” He held out a fist and grinned when Steve bumped it. “We’d love to play with you, but you can just keep being Eddie’s sidekick.”

Eddie sputtered at that, but Steve just laughed. “I don’t mind being the sidekick. I think I’ll leave monster fighting to the professionals.” He’d done enough of that for one lifetime and had the nightmares to prove it. “Plus, as the DM sidekick, I get to know the twists before you guys.”

Eddie laughed and sat up a little straighter. “That’s true. It’s fun to see the light leave their eyes, isn’t it?”

“I just like when Gareth’s voice cracks when he gets mad at you.” Steve grinned as Gareth squawked, sounding indignant. “See? It’s the best.”

“You’re not my best friend anymore.”

“Wait, no, I’m so sorry.” Steve tilted himself to the side until he bumped against Gareth, who yelped as he fell over too. They landed on their sides, Steve’s head tucked under Gareth’s ribcage. “You were supposed to catch me!”

“You’re like a million pounds of muscle! If you’ll remember all the teasing you guys do, I am not a big dude! I’m small!”

Steve ignored the stab of insecurity as he sat up, but he did press a hand against his stomach, trying to see if it felt any bigger than usual. Had he put on weight? Shit, maybe he needed to start doing morning runs again. Shame flushed hot down his neck, but he tried to shake it off for now. He’d dwell on it later. “Come on man, you said I was your best friend yesterday!”

“Say my voice doesn’t crack and I’ll think about it.” Gareth’s eyes glimmered and he didn’t look too serious. But you could never really know.

“Your voice doesn’t crack, it sounds so good all of the time.”

“Thank you, that was so nice of you to say totally unprompted.” Gareth reached out to pat his cheek. “I have a deep and manly voice, I could join the football team.”

“Maybe stick to marching band.” Jeff laughed. “If you start bulking up now, maybe you’ll weigh more than the quads by the end of the season.”

“Hey, those things are heavy! But I make it look effortless. I’d like to see you play the cadence in perfect rhythm 40 times in a row.” Gareth puffed out his chest. “I was the only freshman that wasn’t playing bass drum at the Memorial Day parade, you know.”

“You’ve mentioned that. Several times. Every chance you get.” Becca giggled. “And we were all very impressed the first three times.”

“As you should be!” He jutted out his bottom lip and Steve didn’t miss the way Jeff’s eyes seemed to lock onto Gareth’s mouth. “I’m a pretty talented drummer, you know. I’m auditioning for jazz band this year.”

Grant leaned in closer. “Do you play like, the legit drum set?”

“Legit drum set?” Gareth gave him a look like he’d been grievously offended. “Yes, Grant, I play the legit drum set. I have one in my basement that I mess around on, but there’s not one at the school for me to play in band, so I usually just play snare for concert band. I heard we might get a timpani if the band gets more of a budget next year, but we don’t exactly have a thriving arts program.”

“So I’ve heard.” Grant tapped his pencil against the coffee table a few times. “I’ve played my bass with the jazz band a couple of times. But I mostly stick to metal, you know?”

Eddie grinned. “You’re like, the best metal bassist in Hawkins!”

Steve smirked, elbowing him playfully. “And how many people in Hawkins fall into that category, exactly?”

“The point is that I’m the best, stop asking questions!” Grant lightly punched his arm with a bright laugh. “Gareth, you should totally jam with us sometime, though. We’ve never played with a drummer.”

Gareth’s eyes brightened and he sat up a little straighter, all but bouncing in place. “For real? That would be really cool, yeah!”

Jeff fidgeted with a few of his dice, rolling them between his palms. “Really cool,” he echoed, gazing at Gareth like he was a thousand miles away and not just across the table from him.

He was so obviously gone for him that it wasn’t even funny, but Steve didn’t have much room to judge. Apparently total nerds were his type too.

The conversation drifted back to character sheets and modifiers and fantasy weapons, and even if Steve still felt like he didn’t quite grasp everything about the game, he was just happy enough existing in the same place as his friends.

Eventually Gareth was picked up by his mom, and Jeff was Grant and Becca’s ride, so they left with him when he had to leave to make curfew. That just left Eddie and Steve, sitting side by side on the couch.

At some point, Eddie had gone into his room and come back with a denim vest and a small sewing kit. Steve was watching as he sewed patches onto the jacket with careful pulls of the needle and thread. “When did you learn to sew?” he asked softly.

Eddie hummed. “My ma tried to teach me when I was little. I was kind of a terror, always ending up with a shirt or my pants torn somewhere. Most of my pants were more thread than fabric in the knees, and she wanted me to know how to do the repairs myself, you know? Set me up to be able to take care of myself. But I never quite picked up on it, my stitches were always crooked and uneven, and I sort of gave up. At some point, I’d just been ready to accept that my clothes would always be torn.” He gestured to his jeans, which were artfully torn. “As you can see, some of that held over.” Eddie held the needle between his lips as he tied off the thread.

“Well, those definitely don’t look like uneven stitches to me.” Steve reached out to brush the pads of his fingers against the patch.

“Well, when I moved in with Wayne, he didn’t always have time to help me patch up my clothes, but he was able to sit down with me and help me get the hang of it. Now I’m pretty good at it.” Eddie hummed as he moved around the next patch, holding it against different parts of the vest. His eyes were dark and focused. Steve thought that if he was an artist, he might spend his whole life trying to paint Eddie’s eyes and capture them in all their glory.

He was beautiful. Breathtaking.

“What about you?”

Steve blinked as those eyes were turned towards him. “Huh?”

“Do you sew at all?”

“Oh! Um, yeah. Not often, but I taught myself when I was a kid.” He gave an embarrassed laugh. “I think I was 8 or 9 and my favorite stuffed animal got a rip in it, this little stuffed cat from my grandfather. I found my mother’s sewing kit and tried to fix it, ended up poking myself in the fingers more than anything else. It was pretty sloppy, but the stitches held for a while. Eventually I figured it out.” Steve shrugged. “It was a lot of trial and error.”

“Ah, the two wisest teachers.” Eddie grinned and his eyes seemed to rake over Steve’s face. “You’re pretty smart, you know that? Like, you think on your feet really well. It seems like you taught yourself a lot of things.”

“I- I don’t know if I’d go that far.” Steve laughed and dropped his head, feeling shy under Eddie’s gaze. “I just do what I have to. I’ve always had to teach myself things. If no one else was going to do it, I had to.”

“Which I think makes you pretty smart.”

Steve didn’t know how to get away from the topic of his intelligence. He knew he wasn’t that smart and he was pretty much okay with it. He also didn’t know how to drag his gaze away from Eddie’s mouth, the way his lips moved as he spoke, the way they quirked when he smiled, the way his tongue poked out every so often when he focused or spoke.

Steve just wanted to kiss him, damn it.

He found himself subconsciously leaning in, eyes flicking up to meet Eddie’s. He seemed surprised, but he wasn’t jerking away, wasn’t pushing Steve off the couch.

Until he was close enough to smell the cola on Eddie’s breath. Then Eddie did jerk away, eyes going wide. “Steve? What are you doing?” He blinked a few times and could see himself reflected in Eddie’s dark eyes, the eyes he’d thought about extensively, the eyes he wanted to get lost in. He saw himself and watched as his expression shifted from confusion to panic.

“...nothing.” Fuck, fuck, fuck, he really was an idiot, had let his daydreaming make him stupid. “Nothing, you know what, I should get ready to go!”

“Steve!”

“I have errands to run tomorrow and I definitely don’t want to leave them to the last minute.” He grabbed his keys with trembling hands.” His heart was pounding and he couldn’t bring himself to turn around to look at Eddie. He didn’t want to see his expression, didn’t want to see just how badly he’d fucked up. “I- I’ll see you at school, yeah?”

“Stevie, you don’t-”

“Bye Eddie.” And even after fighting a monster from hell, Steve was fundamentally the same. He was still a fucking coward who couldn’t stand his ground. He wasn’t going to stand there as Eddie rejected him, as he was rejected, not just as a potential partner, but as a friend. He was so fucking stupid, it was his fault that he was going to lose Eddie.

But maybe he could pretend for the rest of the weekend, ignore the looming dread that sat in his chest as he got into his car and drove away, could pretend he didn’t see the lights inside the trailer as Eddie opened the door and stepped onto the porch behind him.

Chapter Text

The next couple weeks were awkward on Steve’s end. He knew it was a situation of his own making and he was probably blowing everything out of proportion, but he didn’t think he’d be able to handle Eddie’s rejection. So he didn’t talk to Eddie. It was mature of him, totally mature. He was the most mature he’d ever been.

He’d decided to skip out on Hellfire, instead driving over to the park, where the basketball court usually sat empty and unused. He had his basketball on the floor of his backseat. It used to sit in his trunk, but when he started storing the nailbat there, he realized it probably wasn’t the greatest idea to leave it back there.

The sky was overcast and there was a faint chill in the air. Wearing tiny green shorts and a tee shirt didn’t offer much protection, but he could ward off the chill by moving. He did a few stretches and began to dribble the ball. He’d usually practice in the gym at school, but he didn’t get along so well with his teammates anymore, especially not Tommy. So he usually just showed up for official practices.

Steve shot the ball from the fowl line and watched as it swished through the net and hit the asphalt. He jogged to catch it before it could bounce too far, looking up over his shoulder when he heard a loud engine. It was Eddie’s van, parking next to his car in the parking lot. He couldn’t do more than watch as Gareth hopped out the back, shouting something indistinct.

Jeff and Grant weren’t far behind, and they were halfway between the parking lot and the court by the time Eddie and Becca were getting out. Gareth beamed and started to run a little faster. “Hi Steve!”

“Hey.” Steve let out a soft oof as he was crashed into. He dropped the ball and hugged Gareth tightly as he closed his eyes. It had been awhile since he’d gotten a good hug, not just a squeeze around the shoulders. He didn’t know how to express his appreciation for the hugs from Gareth. He just held onto him for a long moment, the ball rolling to bump against his shoe. “What are you guys doing here?”

“You cut out on Hellfire. You’ve been avoiding us.” Gareth crossed his arms after pulling away and guilt sat in Steve’s gut like a rock.

“I haven’t been avoiding you guys.” He had. “I’ve just been in the library during lunch or whatever. I’ve got college applications due soon, I have essays to work on.” He looked up and his eyes met Eddie’s. His heart stuttered and he looked down at the ground, nudging his heel against the basketball. Fuck.

“We’ve missed you.” Eddie tucked his hands in his jacket pocket. “We’re friends, Steve, we care about you. We can like, talk about your college shit if you want. I’d say offer advice, but…” He gave an awkward laugh. “I don’t think I can help you out there.”

“I don’t know, you’re a good writer. You could probably help if I asked.” Steve wrung his hands.

Becca nudged past Jeff and Grant to pick up the basketball. Her form was stiff as she dribbled it a few times and Steve had the urge to adjust her posture. “Hey, well, we’re all here now. Why don’t we, uh, shoot some hoops?”

“Do any of you know anything about basketball?” Steve easily got the ball away from her, dribbling it with a quiet laugh.

“Hey, I’ve been to some games!” Gareth held up his hands, and yeah, now that he thought about it, Steve had definitely seen him at a couple games. Shockingly, when he passed to Gareth, he caught it pretty solidly, clutching it to his chest. “I might be the only one though.”

“When have you been to a basketball game?” Grant watched him curiously.

“What else is there to do on Friday nights?” Gareth passed the ball to Jeff. Jeff failed to catch it and flinched away, the ball knocking against his raised arms. “My mom drags me when she’s not on shift to support my cousin.”

“Oh shit, is your cousin on the team?” Steve looked at Gareth, considering him. He knew there wasn’t anyone on the team with his last name, but he didn’t look particularly similar to anyone either. “Have I known your cousin this whole time?”

Gareth snorted and held up his hands to catch the ball again, this time passed by Grant. “No, no, she’s not on the team. Chrissy, she’s one of the cheerleaders.”

“Wait, Chrissy Cunningham is your cousin?” Steve caught the ball as it was passed to him. “Oh shit, solid pass dude. Maybe you’d be a good addition to the team.” He dribbled it a few times and glanced over at Eddie as he carefully controlled the bounces. He almost knocked the ball against his foot when they made eye contact.

“Yeah.” Gareth stretched his arms up. “Our moms are sisters. Her mom is a total bitch, though.”

“Dude, that’s your aunt!”

“She’s still a bitch!” Gareth crossed his arms. “She was a total jerk to my mom while the divorce was happening, she’s mad that Chrissy isn’t fucking perfect all the time…” He sighed. “She sucks, okay? Chrissy’s kind of the whole reason mom didn’t move us away. I think she wants to keep an eye on her. Just… just in case, you know?” He held up his hands. “So are we going to actually shoot the ball or what?”

Steve nodded, familiar with strained family dynamics. “Your mom sounds pretty cool.” He cleared his throat. “Did uh, did you ever give her my number?”

And just like that, the tension broke. Gareth lunged at him, forcing Steve to throw the ball in Eddie’s direction and turn to run. “Stop trying to get with my mom!”

“I’d be an excellent stepdad!” Steve cackled as he dodged the grabs, not even paying attention to the others. “Come on, you know I would be.” He laughed as Gareth tackled him, but he wasn’t knocked over. He caught him in a headlock, ruffling up his hair. “I’d take you fishing and talk to you about politics. I’d tell you about the birds and the bees.” He grinned and laughed harder at Gareth’s squirming. “You’ll be hitting puberty soon enough!”

“Steeeeve!” Gareth managed to break out of his hold as he giggled. “Leave my mom alone!”

“Give her my number and you won’t have to know a single thing.” Steve ruffled up Gareth’s hair one more time before turning back towards the others. “Come on, let’s see if you can shoot a ball as well as you can catch one.”

“Probably not. I’m not exactly an athlete.”

“Nah, but you don’t have to be sporty to have fun with it.” He smiled a little. “It used to be fun, you know.” He nudged Gareth along with a little grin. “Most people who play sports like them.”

“What do you mean used to?” Gareth held his hands up for the ball, Becca passing it to him.

“I mean it was fun until the rest of the team started shunning me. I mean, Patrick is nice enough, but he’s quiet. Tommy still has it out for me, but he hasn’t been too blatant about it. I don’t know, I’m captain of the team which is pretty cool, but I don’t know how much anyone really respects me. At least the coach likes me!” He jogged past Gareth and towards the net.

He could almost feel Gareth staring at him, but he just turned and held his hands up for the ball. He caught it as it was passed and took the easy shot, sinking the ball into the net. “Whoo, go Steve!” Eddie clapped, standing near the edge of the court.

Steve grinned, grabbing the ball as it bounced against the ground. “You wanna try?”

“Um, no, I think I’m good. Jeff, why don’t you give it a go?”

Jeff looked a little like a deer in the headlights. “I don’t know about that, man.”

Gareth ran up to his side with a bright smile. “Come on, you just have to throw it. No harm in being total dogshit here.”

“...wow, you really know how to hype a guy up.” Jeff sighed and rolled his eyes, but a nudge from Gareth had him holding up his hands, already cringing.

“You might want to open your eyes, it’s easier to catch that way.” Steve laughed, waiting until Jeff gave him a flat stare. “Alright, just keep your hands right there. I’m not gonna throw it at your face or anything.” He threw it to him, smiling when the ball went right to his hands. Jeff fumbled it a little, but managed to avoid dropping it. “Just like that, man.”

Jeff held it tightly, looking a little surprised. “Holy shit. I actually caught it.”

“See?” Gareth nudged him, reaching out to grab his wrist. “Okay, now you just throw it towards the net. And now you’re better than half the team at school.”

“Hey.” Steve flipped him off.

“We’re not exactly winning championships.”

“Don’t say we. You’re not on the team.” Steve cocked out a hip. “Besides, we’re getting better. I think we have a shot at the next game. …speaking of shots.” He gestured to Jeff.

“Okay, um… here goes nothing, I guess.” Jeff took the shot and the ball hit the net, going under the rim.

“Hey, not bad! Just a little more strength behind it next time.” Steve hurried after the ball to grab it, Gareth nudging Jeff with a bright smile.

“Almost. You’re basically a pro athlete now.”

“I don’t know about that.” Becca nudged past them and held up her hands for the ball. She caught it when Steve passed it to her and took a few big steps back, lining up with the net. “I think, you know, aside from Steve, I might be the most athletic one in Hellfire.”

“What, because you're the stage manager for the musical?” Gareth leaned against Jeff with a raised eyebrow.

“First of all, they haven’t officially announced it yet. So it’s only probably. Second of all, no, dumbass, I used to play soccer. I quit after a girl broke her leg. It was super bad and fucked up, a bunch of us quit after that happened.” She hopped as she took the shot, the ball bouncing off the rim. She yelped and held up her arms as it bounced back towards her. “Shit!”

It bounced off her arms and rolled towards Grant. He bent down to pick it up. “Better than Jeff’s shot.”

“Both of them did pretty good! I mean, it actually hit the basket.” Steve grinned. “I’m impressed!”

Eddie sighed softly and strode over, hands in his pockets. “Alright, let me show these nerds how it’s done.”

“Says the biggest nerd here.” Grant offered him the ball with a smirk. “Gonna throw it in the laundry basket?”

Jeff gasped and moved to punch Eddie’s arm. “I almost forgot about those rants! You stopped those around the time Steve joined us, huh? Guess you don’t go on your little tangents about jocks and conformity anymore…”

“Oh please, he never shut up about conformity.” Grant rolled his eyes. “Alright, go on, impress us with your athleticism, Munson.”

“Hey, watch it.” Eddie took a few big steps backwards towards the net so he could stare down Grant. “I’m gonna impress all of you so much.” He tripped and nearly fell backwards. Steve hurried forward and caught Eddie, his head hitting his chest.

“Careful,” he murmured, helping him back up to his feet. Eddie’s hair was soft where it had brushed against his neck. This was the closest they had been since that night in the trailer. “Eddie…”

“Steve.” Eddie turned to look at him, eyes gentle. The light made them look shiny, Steve wanted to gaze at them for hours. “Hey. Thanks, um, for catching me.”

“I’d… it’s no problem, I’d always catch you,” Steve said softly. He wanted Eddie back in his arms. “Listen, about… about what happened…”

“What? When you ran out on me with no explanation?”

“Yeah. That. I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to make things weird between us, I mean, you’re my friend. I don’t want to ruin that or make things all… fucked between us. I want to go back to the way we were before, you know?” Steve rubbed the back of his neck, pulling his gaze away from Eddie’s eyes. He couldn’t stare too long, no matter how much he wanted to.

“The way we were before, uh, yeah.” Eddie nodded. “Totally, yeah. We’ll let things be normal again, man, of course.” He cleared his throat and turned towards the net. “But I might have to take your place as the jock of Hellfire.” He threw the ball way too hard. It bounced off the backboard and Eddie yelped, ducking down with his arms shielding his head. “Shit!”

Steve let out a surprised little laugh as the ball went over Eddie and bounced against the pavement harmlessly. “Well, you tried. You didn’t miss by a mile, maybe you are more athletic than we give you credit for.”

“I’m like… strong, I’ll have you know.” Eddie straightened up and put his hands on his hips, cheeks pink with an embarrassed flush. Steve thought he looked really good, he wanted to kiss away the pink.

He shook his head to try and clear the thoughts away, turning when Becca went to grab the ball. “Gareth? Grant? Either of you want to give it a shot? Eddie’s the one to beat.” He patted Eddie on the arm, ignoring the way his skin tingled with the urge to pull him in closer.

Gareth shrugged. “I bet I can do better than that.” He caught the ball as it was passed to him and turned, looking like he was trying to mimic an actual player with the way he pivoted. He shifted his weight before he shot, grinning as it hit inside the shooting square. It bounced off the rim, but it was way closer than any of the other shots had been.

“Close! I probably could’ve done a layup and gotten that in.” Steve grinned and clapped him on the shoulder before running to grab the ball. “Grant, you’re up!”

“You’re like the world’s least shitty gym teacher.” Grant sighed. “I guess I can’t do worse than Eddie, right?”

“Hey! I… hit the thing.” Eddie crossed his arms. “It wasn’t that bad, you just like being mean to me.”

Grant smirked. “It’s both, actually. It was pretty bad and I like being mean to you.” He laughed as Steve threw him the ball, fumbling it a little. “There’s not like, a special technique or anything, is there?”

Steve smiled and stood to his left. “I mean, I could tell you about backspin and shit like that, but I think you just need to get a feel for it. Gareth had the right idea, hitting the backboard in the white square. Hitting there is always going to give you the best angle to bounce into the net.”

Grant nodded and shot it. The ball bounced off the backboard, hit the inside of the rim, hit the backboard one more time, then sunk into the net. “Holy shit.”

“Holy shit!” Steve laughed, shaking his shoulder. “You did it, man! I’m crowning you the second best athlete in Hellfire!”

“What?” Gareth squawked. “Hey, no, I was really close!”

“Go get the ball and try again!” Steve gestured towards where the ball had come to a stop. “You’ll have to do better than really close now.”

Gareth huffed and ran after the ball with a determined expression. Becca snickered. “Uh oh, the puppy is getting competitive.”

“Don’t call me that!” Gareth flipped her off and scooped up the basketball, holding it to his chest. “Okay, I’m gonna get it this time. Totally gonna get it.”

Steve raised an eyebrow and gave a little whoop. “Gonna have to throw it if you wanna make a basket!” He laughed at the way Gareth flipped him off. His stance was wrong and he threw with both hands, but he hit the backboard again, too high this time. “Alright, Emerson!” Steve clapped his hands. “Let’s adjust here. You’re throwing with both hands and you’re focusing way too much on jumping.” Steve caught the ball as it bounced back towards him. “You’re right handed?”

“Yeah.” Gareth watched him.

“That’s the hand you’re throwing the ball with. Just your right hand.” Steve held the ball on his palm, tilting his hand back so Gareth could see. “Your left hand is just gonna help you balance it. You want to roll it from the heel of your palm and up your hand. Your fingertips are the last thing to touch it, okay? If you flick your wrist at the last second, you’ll get some spin on it, but you don’t need to worry about that right now.”

“Okay.” Gareth took the ball in his right hand, shifting it a little as he balanced it carefully. Steve reached out to take his left wrist, bringing it up. “And just use this one for balance,” Gareth mumbled, eyebrows pulled together. “And then I just…?”

“Up and forward.” Steve used one of his feet to nudge Gareth’s, widening his stance just a little. “You don’t have to jump, but bend your knees and move your weight to your toes as you shoot.” He stepped back and watched as Gareth put it all together.

It was a little sloppy, but he bounced on his toes as he shot the ball, smile brightening when it actually went into the basket. “Holy shit! Holy shit, I did it!”

“You did it!” Steve nudged him with a grin. “See? You should totally join the team.”

Gareth knocked their shoulders together with a little laugh. “I don’t think I’ll be doing that, but… well, maybe that was a little bit cool.”

“Just a little.” Steve glanced over and smirked when he saw Jeff looking at Gareth with dark, impressed eyes. “Wanna give it another shot?” He laughed as Gareth hurried after the ball. “I’m just saying, we’ve got enough people for a basketball team.”

Eddie slung an arm around Steve’s shoulders and warmth sat in his chest. “You keep dreaming, Harrington. But I guess we could show up on occasion when you’re playing.” He gave Steve a squeeze, smiling, and all the anxiety that had been choking him for weeks now just vanished, wisps in the breeze.

“I wouldn’t hate that, Eddie.”

Chapter Text

Steve was standing in front of the fridge with a frown, squinting at the expiration date on a gallon of milk. He sighed and put it back in the fridge, slamming it a little harder than necessary. He felt exhausted and a headache had been looming all day, he wasn’t sure he had the energy to scrape together something to eat. He grumbled to himself and trudged out of the kitchen, grabbing the remote and moving to drop on the couch. Before he could sit, there was a knock on the door.

He froze with his hand resting on the back of the couch, looking towards the door with his breath catching in his throat. He listened through the silence and shook his head at himself when there was another knock on the door. “You’re getting paranoid, Harrington,” he mumbled to himself. “Probably just a trick or treater.” He rubbed a hand down his face and opened the door, blinking when he came face to face with Jonathan. “Hey, uh, what are you doing here?”

“Hi Steve.” Jonathan smiled and held out an orange paper, one Steve recognized. He’d seen them being passed around at school earlier in the day. “Were you going to do anything tonight?”

“No, I uh, was just going to throw some dinner together.” He would’ve gotten to it eventually. “Maybe finish some homework.” He shot a glance back towards the living room, papers stacked on the coffee table. He had to send in his early applications in just a few days to meet the deadline, and he was feeling the stress start to settle behind his forehead. “Why?” Jonathan shook the paper a little, and Steve took the hint, taking it and squinting at it, trying to get the letters to stop swirling. “Tina’s party? Really?”

“What? Do you know her?”

“Eh. Knew her in sophomore year.” He made a face. “I don’t know, man. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but this isn’t really my crowd anymore.” He handed the paper back to Jonathan.

“I know. Not exactly my scene either, but Nancy wants me to go and I don’t want to show up by myself.”

Steve felt a pang of jealousy, one he wasn’t sure who it was aimed at, but shoved it down with a sigh. “Fine, let me throw something together. I’ll be down in a few minutes, just make yourself at home.” He waited long enough for Jonathan to enter the house and make his way to the couch before going upstairs.

He dug through his closet and sighed as he pushed aside polos of various colors, looking for his black jacket. It was near the back, halfway off the hanger. He frowned at it, considering the idea of telling Jonathan to suck it up and go without him. He was dreading the idea of running into Tommy, or worse, that new guy, Billy Hargrove.

Hargrove had it out for him, and Steve had no idea why. He’d avoided making any waves in the new school year, keeping to himself. He sat with the Hellfire guys, sure, but aside from Eddie’s occasional cafeteria tirade, they didn’t attract all that much attention. Billy was just a douchebag. He’d been at Hawkins High for like, a week at most, and he was making a hell of an impression.

But Steve didn’t feel like leaving Jonathan high and dry like that, so he pulled on jeans and a black shirt, grabbing his sunglasses off the dresser. His hair was a mess from dragging his fingers through it since he’d gotten home and flopping dramatically onto various surfaces. He grabbed his hairspray out of his dresser from where he kept it hidden behind his socks and stalked across the hall to the bathroom.

He ran his comb through his hair and sprayed it, frowning at his reflection as he styled it. His hair just felt like another goddamn expectation he had to live up to. Being friends with Gareth and the other Hellfire guys had shown him that he didn’t need to be what other people expected, but a part of him was terrified to strip those layers away.

What if there wasn’t anything to him beyond what people wanted to see? …well, if he was going to have a crisis, he could at least look good about it.

“Up and at ‘em, Byers, I don’t want to be out all night!” Steve slipped on the sunglasses as he made his way back downstairs.

“I wasn’t planning on being out all night. Just a couple of hours.” Jonathan got up, looking at Steve a moment as he shrugged the black jacket on. “You look good.”

Steve stared at him for a long moment, fumbling for his words as he tried to fight the heat rising in his cheeks. “I always look good.” He grabbed his keys with a little more force than he really needed to, fidgeting with the house key by sliding it along the ring.

“Do you want to ride with me?” Jonathan followed Steve out of the house, standing by awkwardly as he locked the front door. “I can bring you back before I head home.”

“Nah. I’ll follow you in my car. Wouldn’t want any rumors to spread,” he joked, grinning when Jonathan rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, god forbid.” He flicked the side of Steve’s head, earning a halfhearted punch to the bicep, no real heat or power behind it. “Woah, hey, cool it. I don’t need to be beaten to death on Halloween!” He laughed as Steve flipped him off.

“To death, mhm.” Steve unlocked his car and pushed his sunglasses up, watching Jonathan dig his keys out of his pocket. “See you there.” He hated the way his heart jumped when Jonathan grinned at him. “Get it together,” he muttered to himself, staring out the windshield, watching as Jonathan’s headlights moved along the dark house as he pulled out of the driveway.

The drive to Tina’s was quiet, his radio turned off. He followed the taillights of Joanthan’s Galaxie, dread building in his gut. He hadn’t been to a party since… well, it had been almost a full year. It felt like a bad idea, but maybe a little bit of free alcohol would soothe his nerves. Maybe drinking would let him relax the way it used to.

He’d been to a couple of Tina’s parties, but this one looked to be even bigger than the ones in the past. Cars were lined up down the block, a familiar, douchey Camaro blocking in probably half the cars in the driveway. He slipped the sunglasses back down over his eyes and stretched, locking the car. He crossed his arms over his chest, the jacket not thick enough against the chill in the air.

He caught up with Jonathan at the end of the driveway and shared a nod with him, the two of them looking warily at the house, loud music blasting from inside. “Well.”

“Well.” Jonathan sighed. “For Nancy.”

“Maybe you’re doing this for Nancy, I’m doing this for y-” He cut himself off and looked away, the night too dark through the sunglasses. “For free alcohol.”

“We all have our reasons.” Jonathan nodded, dropping a hand onto Steve’s shoulder. “We can always back out.”

“Nah, you need a normal high school party experience.” Steve didn’t think about the hand on his shoulder, resolutely taking a few steps up the driveway. Jonathan stuck close to his side, their arms brushing against each other as Steve pushed the door open.

The house was full of teens shouting over loud music and drinking. This was what Steve had lived for at one point, but now, he just wanted to go home and lay on the couch, the stress headache building into something stronger. He steeled himself and began to make his way towards the kitchen, feeling Jonathan grip the back of his jacket so they wouldn’t be separated. He recognized most of the people there, some of them as old acquaintances, some of them people who were jerks to his new friends, some who were jerks to him, to his face or otherwise.

He didn’t let his expression give anything away as he grabbed a red plastic cup and filled it with whatever horrifying concoction was in the punch bowl. He gave it a cursory sniff before downing half the cup in one go, reveling in the way it stung his throat. “Want some?” He held the cup out to Jonathan, who cringed.

“It smells like rubbing alcohol.”

“It tastes like rubbing alcohol and…” He took another sip, letting it sit on his tongue longer. “Cherry, I think.” He sniffed it. “Maybe some pineapple? It is… not good.”

“I’ll pass.”

“Your loss!” Steve looked up when he saw a familiar head of curly hair. He lifted a hand to flag down Nancy through the crowd. She kept her eyes low as she approached, already gripping a cup. “Hey, Nance. Um, having fun?”

“Didn’t expect to see you here.” Her words tripped into each other a bit, but she managed a smile as she looked up at Jonathan. “Hi.”

“Hi Nancy.” Jonathan frowned, taking in her appearance. “Have you been here long? Are you… okay?”

“I’m fine! Everything is fine, why wouldn’t it be?” The lights flickered, making all three of them flinch violently.

Steve pushed up his sunglasses, only relaxing when he saw someone messing with the lightswitch in the corner of the kitchen. He let them drop back down and leaned back against the counter. “Right.” Jonathan’s voice was soft, he and Steve watching as Nancy filled her cup and took a deep drink from it.

The house was pretty full, people spilling out into the yard. It was warm, too warm, from the crush of bodies, practically one moving creature. Why had Steve ever liked this? He used to thrive in parties, used to love being the center of attention. But now it felt too crowded and warm, too close quarters. Unsafe.

He could hear Jonathan and Nancy talking in low voices next to him, but the house was loud enough that it was agitating the ringing in his ears. He couldn’t hear what they were talking about, so he leaned back against the counter to watch his classmates. He could see Tina flirting with one of the juniors on the basketball team, raising an eyebrow when he saw the way he leaned into their conversation and touched her hip. He was pretty notorious for being one of those guys who never shut up about his girlfriend, one of the cheerleaders. He had the face of a hypocrite though.

He turned to focus on the door to the backyard, the press of bodies moving in and out. He could hear chanting and cheering, which probably meant someone was doing a keg stand. He rolled his eyes as his stomach turned at the thought. Jesus, he really was a different person than he used to be. A lamer person than he used to be.

He took a pause when he saw a head of curly blond hair that had been haunting him. “Ah fuck,” Steve muttered, ducking his head down. “Don’t look now,” he hissed, turning towards the counter.

“Hm?” Jonathan looked up from his hushed conversation with Nancy. “What’s wrong?”

Before Steve could answer- “Harrington!” Billy’s voice was loud as he walked into the kitchen, and Steve could practically hear the sneer in his voice.

Steve took a long breath before turning back around, squaring his shoulders. “Hargrove.” He smelled like beer and his chest looked like it had barely dried off. Well, now he knew who had been doing a keg stand.

“Keep hearing a lot about you, haven’t seen much.” Billy eyed him, but Steve didn’t budge. “Seems like you dropped pretty far, low enough to hang out with freaks.” He shot a glance at Jonathan, who seemed frozen. “And pathetic losers who managed to take you out.”

“Okay.” Steve took a long slug of the red punch. “What about it?”

“Scared of something? You seem jumpy.” Billy’s voice was mocking and only then did Steve realize his hands were shaking.

Steve gripped his cup tighter and glanced over at Jonathan, who had shrunk back to lean against the counter. He looked scared, which was enough to have something fierce and protective burning in his chest. He couldn’t stop his hands from shaking, he could hear the liquid in his cup slosh. “Not much to be scared of.” He eyed Billy up and down, slow and deliberate. He was taller, but he figured Billy could take him if things escalated. He needed to shut… whatever this was down. “This is a party, man. I’m sure there’s plenty that’s more interesting than me. Why don’t you go do another keg stand or something?”

“Trying to get rid of me?” He smirked, leaning in close. Woah, his eyes were blue. Really bright blue. They were kind of pretty, which was... an incredibly unimportant thought to be having. “Some kind of wuss?”

“No, I just don’t feel like ruining the party. Maybe you should move along and get over it?” He shot a look at Tommy over Billy’s shoulder, smirking a little when he avoided eye contact. “I see you’re finding new friends, Tommy. Should I be embarrassed that this is my replacement? Kind of a downgrade if you ask me.”

“Watch it, Harrington.” Tommy nearly snarled, bunching up his fists at his sides. He took a step forward, but Billy just held up a hand.

“Nah, not worth it.” Billy glanced at Jonathan again and sneered. “He’s all bark and no bite. I’m not worried about him, he’s not gonna do a fucking thing.”

Steve didn’t respond to that. He didn’t need to. Getting into a fight was the last thing he wanted to do. What he wanted to do was go home and nurse the headache behind his eyes, maybe put on some music and slip into bed. The last thing he wanted to do though… it was still something he wanted to do. He really wanted to try and rip Billy a new one, wanted to tear him down from the stupid, meaningless pedestal that he knew Eddie could go on and on about, but he didn’t. If he got punched in the face again, he’d never live it down.

So he just took a slow sip of his punch and watched Billy walk away, Tommy following him like a dog on a leash. Fitting.

“You alright man? I kind of… froze.” Jonathan shifted closer to Steve, he could feel the heat coming off of him.

“Yeah. I don’t care what douchebags like that think. They’re not worth it.” He lifted his head to meet Jonathan’s gaze, almost unnerved by the concern in his eyes.

“Why do people come to these things again? These are just hormone fueled sex romps,” he grumbled.

“That about sums it up.” Steve grinned and elbowed Jonathan. “Some people actually like sex, believe it or not.”

“Oh, shut up.” Jonathan huffed a laugh and flipped Steve off.

He just laughed and slipped away for a few minutes to dance, letting himself be melded into the crowd. Maybe he just needed to let himself go, try and get back into the party groove. It had been awhile after all. Maybe he was forgetting how he used to have fun.

But a few songs later, he could barely hear the music and his head was fully pounding, verging on unbearable. He stumbled out of the crowd and towards the kitchen where Jonathan was actually engaged in conversation with a girl Steve recognized from the photography club. He was so proud. At least, he was pretty sure he was proud. He should have been. That was his friend and he was talking to a cute girl, why was something twisting in his chest? He was supposed to be over his stupid little fleeting crush.

It was probably his headache.

He nudged his way to the sink and rinsed out his plastic cup, filling it with water. He took a few small sips and looked around the kitchen. He was doing his best not to look at Jonathan. He didn’t want to try and analyze the feelings that he didn’t understand. Then he caught a glimpse of curly hair brushing past.

Nancy was going back for another cup of the punch. Steve had no idea how much she’d had to drink, mostly preoccupied with keeping a low profile after his verbal spat with Billy. But she looked out of it, definitely like she’d had too much. “Nancy?”

“Hm?” She looked at him over the rim of the cup, eyes looking… distant.

“I think you’ve had enough.” He reached for the cup, grabbing at it, but Nancy stumbled back and held it out of his reach. “Nancy, come on, give me the cup.”

“No, it’s fine. I’m fine.” She lifted it to her lips again, but she couldn't move it out of the way in time, and he was able to wrap his hand around it.

“Give it to me, you need to stop. I’m cutting you off, for your own good.”

That seems to light some kind of fire in her, her grasp tightening around the plastic cup. “Let go, Steve.” Her words slurred together, but her eyes seemed clearer than they had.

“Nancy-”

“Stop!” She yanked, forcing it out of his grasp and spilling the bright red punch all down the front of her white shirt. “What the hell!”

Steve took a half step back, taking off the sunglasses. “Shit, Nancy, I’m so sorry.” She shoved past him, storming out of the suddenly quiet kitchen. Steve could feel the eyes on him as he followed, cringing as he ducked into the hall bathroom behind her. “Nancy, hey, I didn’t-” He took a steadying breath and watched as she wet a hand towel and began wiping at the shirt. “I don’t think it’s coming out.”

“It’s coming.” Nancy glared down at her shirt, wiping more aggressively.

“Why… why don’t you let me take you home?” He reached out, but stopped before his hands could reach her. “I’ll drive you home and you can sleep it off.”

“No! It’s… everything is fine, Steve. We’re normal, it’s all normal, we’re just regular teens at a stupid party.”

“Nance, it’s… is this about-”

Her breath hitched and she gripped the towel tighter, wringing out drops of water and half-cleaned punch, translucent pink that dripped down her knuckles, wetting her shirt further. “They sold the house. They’re going to leave.”

“Who?”

“The Hollands. Barb’s parents. They think she’s still alive, that she’s not gone.” Her eyes shone with unshed tears, the light catching them as they clung to her eyelashes. “They think she ran away. They don’t know that she's dead! They don’t know we killed her!”

Steve felt like he’d been punched in the stomach, all the air rushing out of his lungs. “That we- Nancy…”

“It’s bullshit, Steve!” She choked on a sob. “We should have done something, we could have saved her!” She threw the hand towel at the floor and it landed by her feet with a wet smack. She wiped at her eyes as the tears finally began to fall freely, a louder sob pulling from her chest. “We were right there, and she’s gone! There’s no body, no proof, she’s just gone! We can’t do anything about it, we can’t bring her back.”

Steve couldn’t breathe, couldn’t find his voice as she cried in front of him. He’d had this kind of nightmare before, having everything laid out bare in front of him. It was worse than the nightmares had made it seem. “I-”

“You’re bullshit, Steve! You act like none of it happened, you won’t talk to me about it! You won’t talk to him about it! It’s like you didn’t go through it with us!” She scrubbed at her eyes, her breaths getting sharper and faster. “She’s gone,” Nancy whispered, leaning against the counter heavily. “She’s fucking gone. She’s gone!” She heaved a sob, bringing her wet hands to her face.

Steve couldn’t breathe. He almost tripped over himself as he shoved the door open, shouldering his way through drunk partygoers. He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to stave off the agonizing pressure behind his eyes. He looked around, feeling lost as he shoved the sunglasses back on the face.

“Steve?” A hand landed heavily on his shoulder, which somehow was enough to get him to gasp in a full breath, ward off the static at the edges of his vision. “What the hell happened?”

Steve blinked a few times, trying to regain his bearings. “Can you give Nancy a ride home? She’s… she’s gonna need it. I need to leave.”

“Y-yeah, sure. Are you alright?” Jonathan’s eyes were wide as he looked at Steve. He wanted so badly to lean into the touch, to revel in the contact for a little bit, but instead, he straightened his back and knocked Jonathan’s hand away.

“See you at school.” Steve pushed past him, wishing he’d taken Eddie’s invitation to join their Halloween oneshot campaign. He glanced to his left when he could feel someone getting closer and damn near snarled when he saw who it was. “If you lay a fucking finger on me right now, Hagan, I am going to break your goddamn wrist.” If he didn’t push the clawing, sticky emotions threatening to break loose into anger, he was going to cry.

Harringtons didn’t cry. If there was one lesson he’d learned as a kid, that was it.

Steve didn’t even pause when Tommy stopped midstep, just kept moving past him. He slammed the door behind him as he left, chest heaving as he fought to keep his breaths even and controlled. There were people outside, but he didn’t even look at them, eyes on the ground at his feet as he walked to where he’d parked.

He paused with his hand on the handle of his car door, squeezing his eyes shut. “This is stupid.” His voice tremored, but there was no one around to hear it. “This is… bullshit.” He took off the sunglasses and pinched at the bridge of his nose again, trying to stabilize himself. His head swam, his heart was racing, he needed everything to stop for a while.

He didn’t remember driving home.

He only came back to himself when he stood at the edge of the pool, the pool that had stayed covered for almost a whole year. His knuckles burned, he could feel where they’d been scraped up the last time he’d come this close to the pool, phantom aches under his skin. He wanted to hit something, wanted to get the angry, guilty, sickening energy out from under his skin.

It stuck to him like the blood of the demogorgon, and he thought if he looked in the mirror, he’d be able to see it against his body, black against his skin.

He paced until his feet ached, until he could see the edges of dawn on the horizon. He still felt jittery, emotions he couldn’t put a name to wrapped around his chest. His knuckles ached. He’d definitely given in and punched something, but he couldn’t remember what. He couldn’t remember much, the night a blur, an eternal, agonizing blink of nothing.

He was so tempted to stay home, to hide in his room under blankets and ignore the rest of the world, but that would mean staying in the house and feeling haunted. Being close to the pool, which stood testament to his failures. Being alone in a house that echoed with the loneliness that he’d never been able to fully fight off.

And that sounded worse than facing school on zero sleep, so he took a breath and pinched the bridge of his nose tight enough that he thought maybe he could break it. He could keep squeezing until something snapped in his face, maybe he’d bleed and attract the monster. He could join Barb like he deserved, leave all the pain behind.

His fingers trembled against his skin, the pressure feeling like a bruise. In a burst of willpower that he didn’t think he had, he dropped his hand from his face and flexed it at his side. Blinking his aching eyes, he slipped inside, the warmth soothing against his skin as he trudged upstairs, dressing himself in his most worn out jeans and a dark blue sweater. His bed looked tempting, warm, inviting, but the pool mocked him through his window.

He wanted to lay down, maybe lay and keep himself awake and feel the ache of exhaustion. He didn’t know what he deserved, but maybe if he felt it, took whatever punishment he was supposed to, he would feel better. If he took the pain he deserved, he could move on. His chest felt too tight, like there was something wrapped around his ribs and getting tighter.

“They don’t know we killed her,” he whispered into his empty room. The words kept echoing in his aching head as he turned to leave for school. And if he skipped first period to dry heave in the bathroom, no one would notice anyway.

Chapter Text

All he’d wanted to do is apologize to Nancy. He’d fucked up her Halloween, had ruined her night and her shirt and it had to be his fault. If it was his fault, he could make up for it somehow. He could make it right. If it was his fault, there was a script to make it better.

He’d gotten flowers, was following the steps, was mumbling his rehearsed apologies when a voice called his name.

And Dustin Henderson wasn’t quite as tiny as Steve remembered. He’d grown in the last year and fear, the fear that always sat in his gut and twisted and cramped randomly was thrashing. It was happening again and Dustin needed his bat, needed him.

The flowers were left abandoned on the Wheelers’ lawn, Dustin was directing him in the car, and he found himself clutching his flashlight and creeping down the stairs to Dustin’s cellar.

His heart pounded in his ears, the flashlight casting odd shadows against the concrete walls. It smelled damp, an undercurrent of rot that felt wrong, familiar in the worst kind of way. A shiver ran up his spine as his sneakers reached the bottom of the stairs, and when he cast a glance over his shoulder, the silhouetted trees offered no comfort.

He swept the flashlight along the floor of the cellar, scrunching up his face against the scent that grew stronger with each step into the inky, uneasy darkness. He almost screamed when his head knocked into something. He flailed his arms and lifted the bat, but a wave of embarrassed relief swept through him when he saw it was just the light. He tugged the cord, wincing at the sharp brightness cutting through the dark.

When he looked down, there was something… slimy. He prodded at it with his bat, using the end of it to lift it. He cringed when it dripped with whatever liquid it was coated in. Well, he’d found the source of the smell. He could check that off his list. “Dustin, you might want to get down here,” he called over his shoulder.

Steve’s eyes swept the small cellar, seemingly used for storage. When he saw the hole in the wall, he just sighed. This was going to be a long weekend.

He met up with Dustin the next afternoon, picking the kid up in front of his house. “I stopped by the butcher’s this morning and got some cheap meat, chopped it up, it’s in the trunk. Where are we trying to lure… whatever this thing is?”

“The old junkyard.” Dustin sounded sure of himself as he threw his backpack into the backseat, which was honestly enough for Steve. “We can set up base in the broken down bus, torch him from a distance, and boom, no more demogorgon!”

Steve’s head whipped to look at Dustin as he buckled himself in. “Demogorgon? I thought it was a lizard!”

“His face opens like the demogorgon, he gets bigger every time he molts. If he molts a few more times, I think we’re looking at a full grown gorgon, Steve. I don’t know how much he needs to eat before he molts again, but he must have grown a lot after Mews and the bologna I left for him.”

“Mews?”

“My cat.” Dustin sighed, covering his face. “Mom is going to kill me,” he groaned as Steve drove towards the woods. “She thinks he was seen near Loch Nora and she was out so late trying to find him.”

“You lied to your mom? Not cool.”

“What do you want me to do? Tell her that an interdimensional monster ate our cat? That I harbored the monster and fed him and named him? Steve, the government might kill me if I tell her!”

Steve glanced around, shushing him. “Okay, okay, I get it. Don’t say that so loud, who knows if they bugged my car?”

“Why would they bug your car?”

“They bugged Hopper’s trailer, remember? I don’t know what kind of feelers they put out in Hawkins.”

Dustin made a face at that. “Don’t say feelers.”

“Fine. You get what I’m saying though. We don’t know what they’re capable of.”

“Not protecting Hawkins, that’s for fucking sure,” Dustin griped.

“Hey, language. But… yeah.” Steve sighed. “Where are your other friends, why am I the only one helping you out here?” He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, following the train tracks.

“I don’t know. I haven’t been able to get anyone to answer!” Dustin’s eyebrows pulled together. “I’ll try again before we start leaving a trail, maybe I’ll be able to get Mike to pick up. He’s usually got his on hand, I don’t know what’s going on.” He looked worried, sounded like he was trying to make himself angry so he wouldn’t feel the worry. Steve knew what that was like.

“I’m sure everything is fine, they’re probably caught up in something that’s got nothing to do with all of this, alright?” He had no way of knowing that, but it wasn’t going to do any good for Dustin to work himself into a panic.

“Okay.” Dustin let his head fall back against the headrest, tugging at the brim of his cap. “You’re probably right. I mean, Lucas has been spending all his time with Max.” He practically spat the names, frustration lacing his tone.

“Who’s Max?”

“This new girl who just moved to Hawkins. Lucas is spending all his time trying to impress her.” He crossed his arms, all but pouting as Steve parked alongside the tracks. “It’s pathetic, she doesn’t even like him! He should just cut his losses, really, it’s embarrassing.”

“Aren’t you a little young to be having girl problems?” Steve shut off the car, but Dustin just scoffed and shoved the door open without answering. “Alright then.”

He opened the trunk and pulled out the bag he’d shoved in there, starting to pack it. Dustin threw a pair of dishwashing gloves at him before perking up, starting to talk into the headset he was wearing.

Steve didn’t tune him out on purpose, but he was trying to take stock of what he had. The gas, the buckets of meat, his bat, flashlight… “Alright, let’s get going.”

Dustin snapped something into the headset before grabbing one of the buckets. “Lucas is going to meet us at the junkyard.” He adjusted his gloves before dropping a chunk of meat on the ground, starting to lead the way. “I’m not sure what Will and Mike are up to.”

“How is Will doing, anyway? It’s been a little while since I kept an eye on him for Ms. Byers and I keep forgetting to ask Jonathan about him.” Steve kept a wary eye on their surroundings as he followed the old train tracks.

“…he isn’t doing so great, I guess. He had, like, an episode or something on Halloween. Mike took him home, but he wouldn’t talk about it at school on Thursday. And then he had a seizure or something and was really freaked out.” Dustin sighed, the sound making Steve’s heart clench for him. “Maybe… I don’t know, I just wish we could help him. He wasn’t at school on Friday, so I don’t know if he’s okay. I couldn’t get a hold of him.”

Steve nodded slowly. “Sounds like you’re a good friend, Henderson. That’s a good thing. Just stay in his corner, you guys are a united front against all this… bullshit.” The word tasted like shitty alcohol on his tongue.

“Yeah.” Dustin threw the meat at the ground with a little more force than he needed to.

They walked in silence for a few minutes, the chunks trailing behind them like breadcrumbs in that old fairytale. Steve couldn’t remember what it was called, but it had something to do with cannibalism, he was pretty sure.

“Hey, why’d you keep this lizard thing as a pet, anyway? After all the shit you’ve dealt with, why tempt fate?”

“I thought my friends would think it was cool. I didn’t know it was from the Upside Down, I thought it was a new amphibious species! How cool would it be if I discovered a whole species?” When Steve gave him an unimpressed eyebrow raise, he seemed to shrink in on himself. “Maybe there’s… a certain someone I wanted to think that I was cool.”

“Ah.” Steve nodded. “You were trying to impress this Max chick? I don’t know if girls like weird lizards, man.”

Dustin’s expression shifted into something Steve couldn’t read and he looked away, grabbing more meat from the bucket. “Something like that. I just wanted hi- wanted those eyes looking at me instead. It’s like I’m invisible now.” He looked at his walkie talkie, gritting his teeth. “I just don’t get it!”

There was something that Dustin wasn’t saying, but Steve didn’t want to pry. He didn’t know if he could pry. “I don’t think hell dimension creatures are the right way to try and impress… anyone, though. You’re trying too hard, man.”

“Then what am I supposed to do? I’m not… I’m not like you, Steve, I can’t just exist and be all handsome and perfect and land anyone I want! I don’t have the hair or the athleticism or any of that shit.” Dustin kicked at a rock, watching it bounce off the rails.

“It’s not about any of that. And I’m not exactly a great source of advice, I’m not like I used to be.” He tossed some more meat on the ground, making a face at the sound it made when it hit the dirt. “I haven’t been on a single date since Nancy broke up with me. But…”

“But how did you get dates before all of that? All the girls wanted to go out with you! You dated senior girls when you were like, a freshman!”

Steve sighed and made a face at the memories that stirred up. “Yeah, and now that I’m a senior, I have no idea what those girls were thinking. The freshmen look like babies to me.” He shook his head, holding a meat chunk in his hand for a long moment. “I would… play hard to get. You know, pretend I wasn’t interested, build up the tension. The tension is the key.”

“Act like you’re not interested? Even when you are?”

“Especially when you are.” Steve nodded, tossing the meat on the ground. “It’s like… you don’t want to let them know your next move, if they know you’re interested, they can… it takes away the power, makes you… vulnerable.”

“What if they’re not interested?”

“You reel them in. Let the interest build, you’ll be able to feel it.”

Dustin nodded slowly, looking up at Steve with a thoughtful look in his eyes. “Until you feel what?”

“Like… like you know that feeling before it storms? The electricity in the air?” Steve gestured in the air.

“Oh, the electromagnetic field when the clouds-”

“No, man, no.” Steve sighed, able to feel how much smarter Dustin was. “Not like that. It’s a sexual kind of energy. Not like actual lightning. Once you feel that, you make a move.”

“That’s when you go for a kiss?”

“Nah, not yet. Well, you gotta know her, some girls like the aggressive approach, but sometimes you have to be… subtler. Sneaky, like a ninja.” He gestured to try and emphasize sneaky, but almost clocked Dustin in the head with the bucket.

“Ninja, right.” Dustin took a step away from Steve, eyeing the bucket. “What type was Nancy?”

Steve sighed, looking up at the sky. “She was different, she was… Nancy.” He shook his head. “But we dated for like, a month. A year ago, man. I’ve moved on.” He was surprised to realize how much he meant it. It still hurt to think about their breakup sometimes, more because of what he’d done, how cruel he’d been, but he had moved on, he really wasn’t as hung up on Nancy as he’d thought he was.

“Oh yeah? Then who’s your girlfriend?”

“Alright you little shit.” Steve knocked Dustin’s hat with the back of his hand. “Just because I’ve moved on doesn’t mean I have to get with someone else. A guy can take time to appreciate being with himself.”

Dustin fixed his hat with a halfhearted glare. “Right. But what if… what if this person is different too? And I can’t be aggressive like a tiger or sneaky like a ninja? What if… I’m not sure it’s safe?”

Steve mused on his wording for a moment. He felt like he was grasping for understanding, like there was something he wasn’t getting in Dustin’s question. It was like a frequency was resonating with his chest, but there was some missing connection. “Then she must be pretty special. You have to be extra careful, I guess? Why wouldn’t it be safe?”

“…yeah. Really special.” There was something wistful in his tone. He gazed into the bucket of meat like he was searching for answers, not answering the question.

Steve sighed, eyeing Dustin before looking around as he decided to divulge something no one had ever learned about him. “Faberge.”

“Huh?”

“The hair.” Steve pointed at his head. “I use Faberge Organics. The shampoo and conditioner. For styling, the Farrah Fawcett spray.”

“…Farrah Fawcett?” Dustin gaped at him, making him sigh.

“Yeah, don’t dunk on it, man. Shit’s legit. Clearly.” He couldn’t hold back a smile as he lightly punched Dustin’s arm. “I’m doing you a solid here, man. You tell anyone what I told you, your ass is grass. And I will deny it. Emphatically.”

“Okay, okay!” Dustin was laughing and smiling, so Steve counted it as a win.

The grass was crunching under his feet, more than it had been before. He cast a glance behind them, but… well, it was fall. Of course the plants were dying.

Dustin had brightened after the hair advice, bouncy as they made it to the junkyard. Steve looked around and nodded as he lifted his sunglasses. “This is great, yeah. We can work with this. Good call, dude.” He scattered a few more chunks of meat towards the middle of the abandoned vehicles before dumping the rest in a pile. He gestured for Dustin to add the rest of his before turning when he heard voices approaching. He squinted, seeing Lucas and a redhead come into view, a redhead who felt distantly familiar for some reason. Familiar in a way that gripped his chest with worry. “Who’s that?”

Dustin had gone quiet and when Steve looked back at him, his expression had soured. “That’s Max.” He stormed forward and grabbed Lucas’ sleeve, dragging him behind a car.

“...okay, cool.” Steve pulled off the dish gloves and raised an eyebrow. “Hey. Uh, so you’re Max?”

“Yup.” She crossed her arms, eyeing him. “And you are…?”

“Steve. Uh, Harrington.”

Some kind of recognition dawned in her eyes. “My stepbrother fucking hates you.”

Oh shit. “...are you Hargrove’s sister?”

“Stepsister. He’s a dick.”

Steve snorted. “Yeah. He kind of is.” He looked around before sighing, taking a moment to look at the car where Lucas and Dustin had gone to argue. “Help me out. We need to reinforce this bus before it gets dark. We’re losing light.” He wiped his hands on his jeans and slipped off his backpack, setting it down by one of the bus tires.

Max looked unimpressed, but started to drag scrap metal towards the bus. He cringed, wanting to offer something to protect her hands, but he hadn’t thought that far ahead, only having the dish gloves from Dustin. He began to gather scrap as well, frowning when he saw the boys still talking softly. He swung the folding chair he’d grabbed against the trunk of the car, a clanging ringing out across the junkyard. “Alright assholes, why is this random girl the only one helping me out? We’re losing light! Let’s go!” He glanced back as he made his way back towards the bus. “Come on!”

Once Lucas and Dustin got moving, they worked in relative quiet. Max kept glancing at Lucas, who seemed determined to not make eye contact with anyone. He could feel all the kids looking at him, which was fair enough. He looked towards the sky as it began to get dark, dousing the meat in gasoline and creating a trail towards the bus. He reached into his back pocket, feeling for his lighter and sighing as he felt the cold metal against his fingers.

He didn’t like having the kids around, didn’t like considering the looming threat, but they had the bus reinforced before the sun sank down too far. Under the orange glow of the sunset, he ushered the kids onto the bus, pulling the folding door shut. He took a seat on the floor, leaning back against the wall.

Dustin was pacing back and forth, Lucas watching his movements closely for a few minutes before going up onto the roof to “be the lookout”. Max was sat cross legged, looking out at the junkyard through the cracks in their reinforcements. She looked up when Steve began to mess with his lighter, flicking it open and shut. The repetition soothed his stress addled mind, the flickering flame warming the chill that had set in the tips of his fingers.

“So you’ve fought one of these before?” He looked up to see Max staring at him. He nodded, his thumb tracing along the rounded edges of the lighter. “And you’re 100 percent sure it wasn’t a bear?”

“Don’t be an idiot,” Dustin snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. “It wasn’t a bear. Why are you even here if you don’t believe us?” He turned his back, shooting a glance over his shoulder. “Just go home.”

Max’s eyes went wide for a second before she stood up. “Geez, is it past your bedtime?” She huffed and began to climb the ladder up to the exit hatch in the roof, clambering out of the bus.

“That’s good.” Steve nodded as Dustin looked over at him. “Show her you don’t care. Maybe a little less harsh next time, but-”

“I don’t care, though.” Dustin grit his teeth, kicking at the ground. “I don’t.” He looked up at the hatch, rubbing his palms together.

Steve would have thought that he was deflecting, lying, something, but there was something raw and genuine in his tone. He squinted, flicking his lighter a few times as Dustin kept pacing. “Come on, have a seat. Pacing won’t make shit happen any faster and you’re making me dizzy.”

“Sorry.” Dustin flopped to the ground in a way that made Steve cringe.

“Check where you drop next time, no telling what the fuck is on the ground in here.” His eyes darted upwards when he heard Max’s voice carrying through the open hatch, but he could only make out about one in every three words. Dustin looked like he was hearing everything, though, guilt laced in his expression. Steve kept quiet, looking down at the ground, the lighter providing just enough light to glint off odd pieces of metal.

A loud snarl broke the delicate quiet of the bus, Dustin almost bowling Steve over in his hurry to get to the window. Steve was on his feet faster than he thought he’d be, his eyes darting along the treeline. The fog had rolled in, which certainly wasn’t helping the visibility. “Do you see him?” Dustin’s hand gripped his sleeve for a brief moment before dropping away.

“No.” Steve couldn’t see much of anything, just the silhouette of the meat chunks in the fog.

“Lucas! What’s going on?”

Lucas was shouting back, but Steve only tightened his grip on the lighter until Dustin was grabbing his sleeve again, pointing to a shadow in the fog. It crept closer, but seemed to hesitate. Steve’s heart caught in his throat. “He’s not taking the bait. Why isn’t he taking the bait?” He bit the inside of his cheek and pressed his tongue against the back of his teeth, dread building in his chest, tightening like a vice.

“Maybe he’s not hungry?”

“...maybe he’s sick of cow.” Steve’s palms were damp as he glanced to his left, the nails in his bat reflecting the dim light coming in the bus.

“Steve?” Steve took a step back and reached for it, wrapping his hand around the bat and gripping it tight enough that it ached. “Steve, what are you doing?” Dustin took a step towards him, but he shook his head and held out his lighter, the bitter taste of fear rising in his throat.

“Just get ready.” He shoved the lighter into Dustin’s hand and before he could think twice about it, he stepped out of the bus.

The cold seeped through his jacket in a second, the damp air biting at his skin. He twirled the bat in his hand to feel the way the weight swung, to balance himself as he took one slow step after the next. God, this was stupid. He didn’t know how big this thing was, hadn’t even seen it yet, and he expected to take it out with a baseball bat.

He began to whistle into the night, watching his breath rise. “Come on buddy. Come on.” He kept a low, running dialogue, trying to attract the attention of the shape in the fog. Squinting, he stood just behind the pile of meat, stomach churning at the stench of gasoline and raw meat. The rumbling snarls were picking up in volume. He knew it sensed him. He could smell cold, wet rot amidst the other scents.

When it crept close enough that the junkyard lights finally illuminated it, his whole body tensed. Steve had neve been a religious guy, had only ever been dragged to church for Christmas and Easter a few times as a kid, but there wasn’t much that could give you a crisis of faith like a godless creature that shouldn’t exist.

The baby demogorgon stared, inasmuch as anything without eyes could stare. Steve stared back, his bat half lifted and at the ready. He took slow breaths through his nose, the smell nearly forgotten. It didn’t help the rising nausea, the panic that threatened to seize his lungs, but it was far from the front of his mind.

“Steve! Watch out!”

“I’m a little busy here!” he snapped back, turning his head without moving his eyes off the creature. It looked slimy, like the skin in Dustin’s cellar. It reminded him a little of a frog with its stubby tail, though he was staring at the face, or maybe non-face, that had haunted his nightmares for the better part of a year. God, he wished this were only another nightmare, that there was some way he could wake up from this and know that the kids were safe.

“Three o’clock!” Lucas’ voice cracked and dread, cold and slimy, gripped his mind. He slowly turned, holding the bat aloft. Another creature stood on one of the half demolished vehicles, a third creeping through the mist beside it.

He was pretty sure he could handle one of them. They weren’t small by any means, but he’d met dogs that were bigger. Multiple though? From different directions? He swallowed, the back of his throat burning as the nausea and dread tangled in his gut.

“Steve! Abort!” Dustin’s voice cut through the panic beginning to clog his thoughts, but before he could even consider booking it back to the bus, the first creature shrieked, its mouth opening like a fleshy flower, and it charged.

Steve held his ground, dodging at the last second. The others were moving in and he vaulted over a car, the sharp cold of its metal cutting through his jacket, helping stave off panic as his heart pounded in his ears. He could hear the kids shouting his name and wanted to yell at them to shut up, to stay silent and hidden. One of the monsters lunged and he swung the bat as hard as he could, feeling the impact in his shoulders. He stumbled and nearly fell, catching himself against the ground and booking it for the bus.

Throwing himself into the bus, he braced himself against the ground as Dustin yanked the folding door shut. He pushed his feet against the door to keep it shut, grabbing for a piece of the corrugated metal, shoving it between his feet and the door. He grunted as the monsters slammed against the door over and over, trying to get in. “Are they rabid?” Max was behind Lucas, who was gripping one of the seats.

“They can’t get in!”

Aaaaand that jinxed them. One of the monsters managed to shove itself between the breaking down door and the metal. He gripped the bat, slamming it down against the creature’s head as the kids scrambled towards the back of the bus. He could hear Dustin screaming into his walkie talkie, but his ears were ringing as he beat back the monster. The kids were right there. They were right there, and if he failed, he put them in danger.

The ringing in his ears was shattered by Max screaming. With one more harsh swing to ensure the monster wouldn’t get in, he scrambled to his feet, pushing her back from the ladder. “Get back, get back!” He held the bat up, pointing it at the monster on the roof. It roared at him and he felt his heart drop, jaw tensing as he stared at the gaping flower-like mouth full of an impossible number of teeth. “You want it? Come and fucking get it!”

He nearly collapsed when it lifted its head, looking out towards the tree line and scrambled off. He panted, unable to take his eyes off the open hatch in case it came back. He minutely loosened his grip on the bat, letting it fall to his side as he took sharp breaths through his nose. He took slow steps towards the front of the bus, eyes sweeping towards the windows, just in case. He pushed the door open, flinching at the sound of the metal scraping against itself. He stared as the creatures ran off towards the treeline, going… somewhere.

“What… happened?” Lucas peered over Steve’s shoulder into the night. Steve couldn’t pull his eyes away from the misty woods.

“Maybe Steve scared them away?” Dustin asked softly.

“No.” Steve looked back at the kids, trying to keep the fear out of his expression. “They’re… they’re going somewhere.” He began to trek through the junkyard, setting his jaw.

“And we’re following?” Lucas jumped out of the bus, scrambling to keep up.

“Well, I don’t exactly have my car right now, we don’t have many options.” He turned to fully face them, grinding his teeth together as he flexed his fingers. “We don’t know where they’re going, they could lead us to… to whatever’s pulling the strings.”

“Pulling the strings?” Max furrowed her brow, looking between Lucas and Dustin. “What does he mean pulling the strings?”

Dustin tugged at the brim of his hat, lips pressed tightly together. “Something made them stop. We were sitting ducks, an easy meal, but they left. Why?”

“We can debate on the way, but we can’t stay here all night. Besides, it’s a school night, let’s go.” Steve motioned for them to follow him, and he walked into the woods. He wasn’t overly familiar with the area, more used to the areas surrounding the tracks, but he’d seen Dustin with a compass in his hand earlier, and he was pretty certain all the kids were smarter than him anyway. He was the muscle of the group, the shield, not the brain, and he could embrace that role.

He kept doing quick head counts, one two three, one two three, one two three…

The repetition was going to drive him crazy, but it was also the only thing keeping him sane. The gravity of the situation was beginning to set in. He’d faced a monster, three of them, with nothing but a nail bat. If he’d been a little slower, if Lucas hadn’t called out to him, if he’d tripped, he wouldn’t have been able to protect the kids. They were kids.

“Hey.” He held out an arm to keep Dustin from running a head. “Keep behind me.”

“I have the compass!” Dustin thrust it towards his face.

“And I have the bat. I’d rather be in the lead here, okay Henderson?”

“...fine.” Dustin slowed his steps, but was still trailing behind Steve close enough to have him rolling his eyes.

Steve rubbed his face, exhaustion starting to set in. His shoulders ached and he was getting paranoid, cringing at every sound coming from the woods. The kids were starting to bicker, but he tried not to let it grate on his nerves. At least they weren’t so freaked out they were silent. He thought that would be worse.

“And you’re sure it was Dart?” Steve glanced back to see Lucas cross his arms.

“Yeah, he had the same yellow pattern on his butt.” Dustin nodded, slowing so he was next to Dustin.

“He was tiny two days ago!” Max threw out her arms in exasperation.

“Yeah, but he molted three times.”

Steve furrowed his brow. “That’s the- the thing with his skin, right?”

“Yeah. He sheds the skin to make room to get bigger, like hornworms.”

That didn’t help Steve’s understanding much, but he didn’t think asking more questions would be productive. “When is he gonna molt again?” Max asked.

“It’s gotta be soon.” Dustin gripped his flashlight tighter and glanced at Steve, who was getting distracted by a noise in the woods. “And they’re almost full grown. And so are the other ones.”

Steve scoffed. “Yeah, then they’ll be eating way more than cats.”

Lucas stopped in his tracks. “He ate a cat?”

“No!” Dustin waved his hands in front of himself. “No, he didn’t.” He shot a look at Steve.

Steve blinked. “What? No, you said he ate Mews.”

“Mews?” Max looked up at him.

“Yeah, Dustin’s cat.” Steve shrugged, giving Dustin a confused look.

“Steve!”

“...was that supposed to be a secret?”

“You kept him!” Lucas jabbed a finger at Dustin’s chest.

“No! …no.” Dustin looked down at the ground, gripping the brim of his hat. “Lucas, he… he missed me.” His voice was hardly louder than a whisper and he looked like he wanted to disappear. “He wanted to come home.”

“That’s such bullshit!”

“I didn’t know he was a demogorgon!”

“Now you admit it?” Lucas put his hands on his hips and glared.

“Guys.” Max cut in, stepping closer to them. “Guys, we need to keep moving.”

“I care,” Lucas snapped. “I care! You put the party in jeopardy! You broke the rule of law!”

“So did you!”

Steve leaned down to whisper to Max. “What the hell are they talking about?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged, flinching when Dustin pointed his flashlight at her face. “Hey!”

“You told a stranger the truth! You put us at risk just as much as I did, maybe more!”

“A stranger?” Max’s voice raised, offended.

Steve ran a hand down his face, the throbbing headache behind his temples starting to get stronger. “Guys-”

“You wanted to tell her too!” Lucas stepped closer to Dustin, still glaring.

“Because you wanted to! But I didn’t! I didn’t tell her! We both broke the rule of law!”

A chill ran down Steve’s spine at a distant roar, and he tuned out the arguing, turning back in the direction they had been heading. He stepped off the train tracks, trying to keep his breathing even. The roar came again, louder this time. His fingers twitched around the handle of his bat, knuckles going white as he gripped it tighter. “Guys?” They were still yelling, making him sigh. This is what he got for teaming up with a bunch of teenagers. “Guys!”

He waited just long enough for Dustin and Lucas to stop yelling before pushing through the woods. Max’s voice called after them. “No. No, no, no, why are we going towards the sound?”

“You’re part of this now, Mayfield,” Steve called over his shoulder, dead leaves crunching underfoot. He listened for the three pairs of feet that were following him, holding out an arm to keep Dustin from running ahead. “No, what did I say, man? You stay behind me, none of you kids are going to run ahead on my watch, got it?”

He didn’t respond to the irritated mutters, just pushing forward until they got to a clearing overlooking more woods. He squinted, unable to see much through the fog. It was unsettling, the darkness blanketed on top of the fog that fully blocked out any details of the woods below. There were lights out in the distance, sitting in the middle of what looked like nothing. “I don’t see him,” Dustin whispered.

“The lab.” Lucas stared out through his binoculars. “They were going back home.”

Steve’s stomach dropped at that. He didn’t fully know what was going on, was pretty sure none of them really did but… he knew that definitely wasn’t good. He took a slow breath through his nose, adjusted his grip on the bat, and started walking down the hill.

“Steve! We can’t…” Max scrambled to follow him and he held out an arm to catch her when she stumbled. “We’re not still following these things, are we?”

“What choice do we have?” Steve glanced back as Lucas and Dustin followed. “If we don’t do something to stop this, who will?”

It felt like forever until they were finally approaching the edge of the woods, the flickering lights of the lab leading them through the trees. Steve froze and stopped the kids, hearing a vehicle and voices.

“Who’s there?”

Steve edged forward, holding out his arm again to try and keep the kids back, but they weren’t having it, Max shoving at his arm to make him move faster. “Can you calm down?” he hissed. “Try and be a little stealthy.”

“Like a ninja,” Dustin supplied.

“Dustin-”

“Who’s there?”

“Wait, I… know that voice.” Steve narrowed his eyes and broke through the edge of the woods, keeping his flashlight down.

“Steve?” Jonathan and Nancy were standing by the road, staring at him with wide eyes.

“Nancy, Jonathan, what are you…?” He switched off the flashlight, Jonathan’s idling car providing enough light for the moment. “Holy shit.” He bent down, his hands on his knees as he sucked in a deep breath he hadn’t realized he needed. “Okay, thank fucking god. I am no longer the only one over 14 here.”

“What are you doing here?” Jonathan jogged forward, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“What are you guys doing here?” Dustin asked back as he looked between them, crossing his arms.

“We’re looking for Will and Mike.” Nancy stood back, looking between Steve and the kids.

“They aren’t in there, are they?” Dustin looked at the darkened lab, frowning.

“We aren’t sure.” Jonathan’s hand fell from Steve’s shoulder. “...Why?”

Steve’s head jerked up when there was a roar from the lab, giving a weak gesture with the hand holding his flashlight. He closed his eyes and sighed before tucking the flashlight in his bag. “That’s why.”

Jonathan swore softly, rubbing his hands over his face. “I can’t do this again!” He started to pace, Nancy reaching out to him. “Nance, they’re… what if they’re in there? Someone was in the house!”

“Wait, wait, what?” Lucas looked up at Jonathan. “Who was in your house?”

“I don’t know! There were polaroids, I don’t shoot polaroids, and all these… these drawings! They didn’t make sense, I don’t understand!” Jonathan let out a growl of frustration, gritting his teeth. “Have any of you seen Will?”

Steve looked over at Dustin. “You said he wasn’t picking up, right?”

“Yeah. I couldn’t get a hold of him or Mike. They weren’t picking up even though I called a code red.” Dustin reached for his walkie talkie. “Should I-”

Nancy reached for Jonathan, wrapping a hand around his wrist. “Hey, hey, come on, we don’t know for sure if he’s… fuck.” She let herself be tugged into a hug, her hand resting on the back of his head, pulling it to her shoulder. “We’re going to find Will. And your mom and Mike.”

Steve looked away, but as he did, he saw the lights flickering on through the lab’s windows. “Hey! The power is coming back!”

Faster than he could get a look at them, Jonathan and Nancy were running to the security booth. He glanced at the kids and shrugged, hurrying to keep up with them. “What…?”

Jonathan was jamming his finger into a button, Nancy looking up hopefully at the closed gate. “It’s not opening!”

Steve watched in exasperation as Dustin shouldered his way in, pushing past Jonathan, only to press the button more aggressively. “Henderson, are you-” The gate began to open, making him sigh. “Cocky little shit,” he mumbled, surprised to find he meant it pretty affectionately.

“I got it!” Dustin grinned as he ducked out of the booth.

“Stay here!” Jonathan got in the car, gesturing for Nancy to get in the passenger seat. “We’re going to find them, don’t follow us.”

“Hey.” Steve wrung his hands on the handle of the bat. “Be careful?”

“Yeah. We’ll be careful.” Jonathan nodded before they were pulling away, racing towards the building.

“And now we wait?” Max kicked at an errant rock on the road, looking exhausted.

“And now we wait,” Steve echoed, leaning back against the wall of the security booth. He tucked the nail-studded bat into his bag, pulling the flashlight back out to fidget with it. As he brought the end of it down against his palm, he could see Lucas staring at him. “You alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, fine.” He looked away, staring up at the sky and crossing his arms over his chest. “Just… worried. Will’s gone through so much, and it’s… I don’t like this.”

“I know, kid.” He let his head fall back, closing his eyes. “I know, it’s a lot of unknowns right now. We’ll know more soon.” He bit the tip of his tongue before he could say ‘for better or for worse’. He had a bad feeling about everything, and the continued howls that rang through the air weren’t making him feel much better.

He watched as Lucas and Dustin paced, Max staring at the lab with a detached expression of concern and horror. He couldn’t believe she was Hargrove’s step-sibling. He hoped he was better at home than he was at school, but the way she’d talked about him earlier had him assuming he probably wasn’t.

She tensed, staring at something down the road to the lab. Tires screeched, and Steve jolted into action, shepherding the kids off the road. “Hey, come on, move it!”

Max grabbed Lucas’ wrist and yanked him. “Move it!”

Jonathan’s car zoomed past them, Hopper’s truck screeching to a halt. “Let’s go!”

Steve didn’t even think to ask questions, yanking the door open. “Come on, in the back, hurry up!” He helped the kids in before pulling himself in, barely getting the door shut before Hopper was slamming the gas.

The drive was relatively quiet, aside from hushed voices as they traded information, a clearer picture forming of what the fuck they were actually dealing with. What poor Will was going through.

Steve held onto his bag, clutching it to his chest as he digested the weight of it all, glancing back at the kids. Oddly enough, he felt a tiny bit better now that there was an actual adult around, felt like he could take a few breaths. He closed his eyes, let his exhaustion sit in his body. He felt his chest rise and fall, trying to stay aware so he wouldn’t actually fall asleep.

He listened to the chatter of the kids behind him, relieved to hear Dustin and Lucas talking again. He figured the reappearance of Will and Mike along with the intensity of the situation overrode their argument, at least for now.

He opened his eyes as the truck rolled to a stop, hopping out and helping the kids out. He gripped his bag tight, making sure they all got in the Byers’ house. He pulled the bat from the bag and gripped it, glancing around at the surrounding area before following Hopper inside. “What the hell…?” He looked around at the sheets of paper taped up all over the inside of the house. He looked at Joyce, who was covering Will in a blanket on the couch, looking close to tears. Jonathan had silent tears running down his cheeks, Nancy doing her best to comfort him.

The kids were gathered around the table, Mike talking a mile a minute as the others tried to keep up. Steve felt like he didn’t belong, standing uncomfortably as he tried to make sense of the scribbles on the papers. He was intruding, but there was no way he was going to leave, not when Will looked so frail, laying there on the couch.

He pinched the bridge of his nose to try and stave off the headache that had been encroaching all day. His hands were cold.

He watched as Jonathan talked to Will in a hushed voice, watched Joyce make her way down the hall with an empty, tired expression. He slowly made his way through the house and stared at the taped together papers, passing Hopper, who had picked up the phone, talking harshly to someone. He looked wrong, somehow, dressed in pale blue scrubs and a winter coat. He came to a stop behind the kids at the table, glancing out the window and setting his backpack on the floor.

He didn’t know what came next, hardly knew what had come already. It was late, nearly midnight. He’d been on his feet for hours, didn’t know how many miles they’d covered in the woods. God, and he’d thought this shit was over.

The Byers’ house was a mess, but nothing compared to what was happening with Will. Steve let himself be pulled into transforming the back shed into an interrogation room, watched in confusion as the kids translated morse code, and grabbed his nail bat when the lights began to flicker, when Will was brought inside, once again knocked out.

He took a sharp breath as there was crashing outside, seeing the bushes rustling just outside the windows. The kids gave various noises of shock and Hopper sucked in a sharp breath. “What the hell are they doing?”

Dustin tried to creep forward, but Steve held out an arm. “Stay behind me,” he mumbled, shooting a glance at him. Dustin narrowed his eyes, but listened, and Steve could feel his jolt as the snarling grew in volume, closer to the house.

Someone let out a frightened whimper, but the snarling came to a sudden halt. Gripping the bat hard enough that his knuckles hurt, Steve leaned forward, trying to get a glimpse of whatever was out there.

Then the window shattered and a demodog came flying into the room, skidding across the floor. There were various shouts of alarm, one particularly high pitched one coming from behind him. Steve glanced back at Max and Lucas, who were clinging to each other, but the demodog wasn’t moving, laying limp on the ground with the petal-like segments of its mouth open.

“Holy shit,” Dustin breathed.

“Is it dead?”

Hopper nudged the slimy creature with the toe of his boot, but it didn’t move. He began to lower his gun, but jerked it back up when there was a creaking from the door.

Steve pushed the kids back again, narrowing his eyes. The demodogs probably couldn’t open doors. He was pretty sure they couldn’t anyway. The deadbolt unlocked, followed seconds later by the chain latch, all weapons pointing to the door. Steve was subconsciously holding his breath again, chest tight as he readied himself to swing his bat.

It wasn’t a nightmare creature at the door, though. It was a girl, one Steve didn’t recognize, dressed in black with slicked back hair and blood dripping from her nose. Hopper lowered his gun and there were soft gasps from the kids. Steve glanced at him, following his lead and lowering his bat. Mike pushed past Hopper, steps slow and uncertain.

“Eleven,” he whispered.

“Mike.” She stepped forward to meet him, hugging him tightly.

“Is that…” Max trailed off, looking between Lucas and Dustin, who nodded.

“Who is that?” Steve asked softly.

“That’s El. The girl with the powers.” Dustin looked down at the floor as Mike and El talked softly, foreheads bumping together.

“Oh. I thought she… you know.” Steve made a hand gesture and a soft sound like an explosion. He’d heard about the girl before, of course, mostly from Nancy and second hand accounts from Will, but he’d been fully under the impression that she had died. He’d also been fully under the impression that Will had died before he was brought back from the Upside Down. It was weird that it had happened twice.

“We did too.”

“Why didn’t you let me know you were there?” Mike was asking, sounding hurt.

“I wouldn’t let her.” Hopper stepped forward. “Where have you been?”

“Where have you been?” There was a sharp edge to El’s voice, but her posture relaxed as Hopper pulled her close, kissing the top of her head.

“You’ve been hiding her.” Mike stared, narrowing his eyes. “You’ve been hiding her this whole time!” He pushed Hopper.

“Hey.” Hopper grabbed Mike’s wrist. “Hey. Let’s talk. Alone.”

Mike sneered, glancing at El for just another moment before storming away, shoulders set as he shoved his way into another room with Hopper not far behind.

Steve recognized that, the way Mike carried his anger. He didn’t carry it the way a lot of kids his age did, like a weapon. He carried it like a shield, holding it ahead of himself like it would keep him safe from something. He wielded his anger like he was scared of whatever it was hiding. It was the same thing Steve himself had done before. It was the same thing Steve knew he was still guilty of.

Mike’s voice carried through the door, the lower rumble of Hopper’s beneath it. He hoped Hopper wasn’t too mad, hoped Hopper would be understanding. Mike was just a kid, he hadn’t done anything wrong, he was just scared and angry. Hopper wouldn’t hurt him, Steve was… well, he was mostly sure of it.

Steve shared a look with Nancy, who turned to hide herself against Jonathan. He kissed the top of her head, holding her against his side. Steve knocked the end of the bat against the toe of his sneaker with a sigh, glancing at El, who was being wrapped in a hug between Lucas and Dustin.

“We missed you,” Lucas was murmuring.

“I missed you too.”

“We talked about you basically every day.” Dustin gave her a tight squeeze before releasing her from the hug with a grin. She stared for a long moment before reaching for his face, pushing her thumb into his mouth.

“Teeth.”

“Huh?”

“You have teeth!”

Dustin’s face split into a grin. “Yeah! You like these pearls?” He glanced over at Lucas before making a weird purr noise. El’s eyes widened and she took a surprised step back. Steve cringed, looking away. Maybe he should have given the kid more advice.

“Eleven?” Max stepped forward with a small smile. “Hey. I’m Max.” She held out her hand, offering a handshake. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

El stared for a moment before pushing past her, letting Joyce wrap her in a close hug. “Hey sweetheart.” She held the girl close before pulling back and cupping El’s face, tears in her eyes. “Hey.”

“Can I see him?”

Joyce hesitated before nodding, leading her down the hall. Steve frowned and watched as Max stared at El, a frown on her lips. Dustin sighed, rocking on his feet. “She’s really back. Mike is… I’m surprised he’s not happier.”

“We thought she was gone forever, man. It’s gonna be an adjustment to her being back, right?” Lucas messed with his slingshot. “Was she… really ever gone? I mean, we saw her disappear, but Chief Hopper’s been hiding her?”

“So she was like, a child soldier? Or an experiment? Like, what’s her whole deal?” Steve put his hands on his hips as he moved closer to the kids.

“She’s from Hawkins Lab.”

“Is she the only one? I mean, her name is Eleven, right? So going based on how numbers work, there’s gotta be a One or a Seven or a Ten, right? Maybe even a Twelve?”

“Uh. Huh.” Dustin frowned. “I mean, she can’t be the only one, right?”

Lucas looked stumped at that, glancing towards Will’s room. “I mean, yeah, there’s probably others. Unless they’re like failed experiments. We didn’t exactly get time to talk before she disappeared last year.”

“Yeah, you hated her,” Dustin said with a laugh.

“I didn’t- I didn’t hate her!” Lucas sputtered. “Will was missing! You and Mike were so busy-”

“Okay, I’m gonna step in here.” Steve lightly pushed the boys away from each other. “I didn’t mean to get you guys in an argument, here. You literally just made up from your last fight.”

“Ugh, boys,” Max grumbled. Steve had to bite his lip to keep from laughing, glancing up when movement caught his eye. Joyce and El were heading to the kitchen table where the morse code and translation from Will’s interrogation were still sitting. Max nudged her way past Steve, slowly making her way over with the boys in tow.

And then there were plans being made, groups being formed. Steve told Nancy to go with Jonathan and promised to protect the kids. God help him, he was going to protect them with everything he had. He was conned into carrying the horrible, disgusting, slimy creature and getting it in the fridge, because Dustin wanted to study it. He hoped Joyce would forgive him.

He fought with the little shits, desperate to keep them in one place, trying to convince them that going into the tunnels was a death sentence, that they needed to stick to the plan, carry out the plays the coach had given them. That didn’t earn him any points with Mike.

He was ready to keep arguing, but before he had the chance, an engine could be heard outside. The fear on Max’s face made him sweat as tires screeched and halted, the engine shutting off. Max clenched her fists, whispering that Billy would kill them, sending a worried look towards Lucas. And Steve couldn’t let that stand. He’d face Billy, keep him away from the kids.

His nonchalance only worked for so long.

“Hargrove, listen-” He grunted as he was shoved to the ground, unable to cushion his fall as he landed on his side.

“I told you to plant your feet.” Billy kicked him just under the ribs and knocked the wind out of him as he tried to sit up, stepping over him and slamming the door open.

Steve wheezed, holding his chest for a moment as the door was slammed shut again. “Fuck!” He got to his feet, brushing himself off as he scrambled for the door. Billy was in there with the kids, he wasn’t going to let any of them get hurt, damn it.

He shouldered his way back inside, could hear Billy’s voice, low and menacing, could see three of the kids, but not Lucas. Max looked over at him, the terror in her expression heart breaking. Billy grunted as Lucas shouted, stumbling back into view. “You’re so dead Sinclair! So dead.”

Steve was moving before he could think. “No. You are.” He swung a fist forward, clocking Billy in the face. Max shouted his name, but Billy… Billy just started laughing, dread swirling in Steve’s gut.

Steve spared a glance at the kids, saw Lucas being embraced by the others. He wanted to yell at them to run, to barricade themselves in another room where they would be safe. But Billy straightened up, stepping up into his space again. Steve squared his shoulders, flexing his hands and eyeing the blood trickling from Billy’s nostril. “Got some fire in you after all!” he was crowing. “I’ve been waiting to meet this King Steve that everyone’s been telling me about!”

And god, no one had really called him that. It was more of a mocking nickname these days, if that. But Billy clearly didn’t care. So Steve wouldn’t either. He reached out and pressed his fingertips to Billy’s chest, pushing him back. “Get out.” He kept his voice even, not betraying the fear that was bubbling below the surface.

A long, tense moment passed, their eyes locked. And geez, if he wasn’t such a douche, Billy might be kind of pretty.

But then his stance shifted, shoulder rolling back, and Steve had seen enough fights, been punched in the face enough times to know where this was going. With a sharp breath, he ducked down, the fist flying through the air just barely grazing his hair. He could feel the breeze as he sprung back up, throwing a punch without thinking.

He caught Billy in the side of the face, knocking him back a few steps. The kids were yelling, but the adrenaline thrumming through his veins was tunneling his focus. Billy was still laughing, and Steve just wanted him to shut the fuck up. The ache in his knuckles was throbbing with the beating of his heart, his shoulders burned, he could feel his breaths grow heavier, but he pressed forward, throwing another punch. He was backing Billy towards the counter and he didn’t have a plan for when he got there.

There was nowhere left to go, Billy’s eyes locking on his. He heard the shattering of the ceramic plate before he felt the pain.

Steve’s vision went white as he found himself moving backwards. He gasped, bringing his hands up to his head as the splitting pain hit. His chest felt hollow, like the air he forced in had nowhere to go, and it was only downhill from there. Warmth trickled down his cheek as another blow struck his temple, sending him stumbling into a bookshelf. His hands scrabbled against the wood, uncoordinated as he tried to focus his blurred vision and steady himself.

His head lolled slightly as his lapels were grabbed, Billy pulling him in close enough that he could feel the other boy’s voice more than hear it, all the sounds around him jumbling into something unintelligible. He blinked a few times and tried to clear his vision, but it was in vein, the next blow to the head sending him skittering across the floor.

Steve tried to curl around himself, following bare instincts to protect his head, but his limbs weren’t coordinating. He felt the weight of Billy drop onto him, felt the blows as they rained down on his head, blurred vision darkening at the edges. He tried to cry out, tried to lift his arms to defend himself, tried to remember where he was as he choked on his own blood.

Passing out was a mercy.

He was moving, something cold pressed to his forehead. His mouth tasted like blood, thick against his tongue, making him think back to gym class. He curled his tongue against itself, feeling the scar with the tip, but it wasn’t bleeding, the blood was from somewhere else. He grunted as the pain began to settle, sharp, arcing from one temple, across his skull, to the other. His eyelids were leaden as he tried to crack them open, lifting a hand to his throbbing nose.

Light peeked through his eyelids, gracefully dim as he tried to take stock of his surroundings. Someone was next to him, dark hair and pale skin, familiar somehow. “Eddie?” he slurred, blinking away some of the blurriness as he came face to face with Mike.

Steve groaned, touching the bridge of his nose and hissing as the pain sharpened. “Hey, no, no, don’t touch.” Someone grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand away from his face. It took all of his effort to roll his head to the side, Dustin giving him a big grin. “Hey buddy, shhh. You put up a good fight. Got your ass kicked, but you put up a good fight.” There were two of him and Steve only remembered there being one. His memories were fuzzy, like they were being held just out of his reach. His limbs felt leaden as he lifted his arm to hold the ice pack to his head, skull throbbing.

“-straight for a half mile… Left on… Sinai.”

“Wha’s going on…?” Steve blinked, the movement absolutely aching. His hearing was in and out, vision still adjusting, but he could see well enough to tell that it was Max behind the wheel. Max. A 13 year old child. “Oh my god.” He gasped in a sharp breath of air and let go of the ice pack, hands patting at the seat under him as he tried to sit up, sending a rush to his head.

“Relax,” Dustin tried to soothe. He grabbed the ice pack before it could fall, keeping it held to Steve’s temple. “She’s driven before.”

Mike snapped something that he couldn’t catch, but he knew it couldn’t be good if Lucas’ retort of “It counts!” was anything to go by.

“They were… leave… behind.”

Steve really didn’t know how much he was missing, just knew there was a lot of context he couldn’t catch. His ears were ringing obnoxiously, making it hard to hear anything other than his own increasingly panicked breathing. “What’s going on?” He felt more than heard or saw that the car was speeding up, his breathing getting more frantic. “Slow down! Stop the car, no, no, no! Stop the car!” His hands were cooperating, he couldn’t move right, he couldn’t see.

Dustin and Mike were trying to grab his arms and keep him still, but he needed to gain control of the situation. These kids, they were kids, he’d promised he’d keep them safe and now he was letting them drive? He’d fucked up somewhere, this had to be some… some cosmic punishment.

“Shut up! I’m trying to focus!” Max was louder than the ringing in his ears. He let out a pathetic whine as his body was jerked to the side, pressed roughly against Dustin as the car turned. Someone was screaming, he was flailing, limbs were all over the place. He tasted blood and for a short moment, he thought he’d bitten his tongue again, the panic sparking in his chest turning into a blazing wildfire.

He put his fingers in his mouth, nearly gagging himself in his uncoordinated attempt. But his tongue was in one piece, the blood was from his nose, he was pretty sure. Or his split lip. Or maybe the spot on his cheek that might be bleeding, but he was sweaty and sticky.

“Get your- dude, why are your fingers in your mouth?” Mike grabbed his wrist, wrenching his hand away from his head.

“Thought my tongue was gone,” he slurred, cringing as he was shoved against Mike’s side when the car jerked again. His throat stung, acid rising as he tried not to throw up, stomach sloshing with every movement. “It’s still there, I’m okay.” He blinked slowly, trying not to think about how much his eyes hurt. “Oh god,” he groaned.

“You’re fine, Steve.” Dustin patted his leg and made him groan again. His stomach flipped and he swallowed, blood thick in his mouth.

He let his eyes fall shut again, the rocking motions of the car not doing him any favors. His head pillowed against Dustin’s arm and he realized he might be bleeding from other places on his head. His hair felt sticky.

The car slammed to a stop and he was flailing again, off balance as he let out a sharp yelp. He pressed his palms to the seats in front of him, ears still ringing as he caught his breath, not listening to the kids. He fell to his hands and knees in the dirt, taking huge breaths. His stomach lurched and he let out a weak, high pitched sound as he began to gag.

Steve’s mouth tasted like death. Blood and bile mixed in an unpleasant flavor that he couldn’t seem to spit out. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve and got to his feet, an arm wrapped tightly around his middle as he squinted at the kids. “Guys,” he groaned, leaning heavily on the car. “Guys, no…”

They were putting on bandanas and goggles and kitchen gloves, gathering shit from the trunk that he couldn’t make out through the dark and the distortion from his left eye. He frowned as Mike pushed past him towards the hole in the ground, carrying a half full container of gas. “Hey!” He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, trying to gather his bearings. “Hey, we are not going down there, what the fuck do you think I was saying earlier?” He was slurring his words slightly and he cringed as his jaw cracked, rubbing his cheek. “I made myself clear!”

They didn’t stop, just walking around him as they gathered their supplies. He couldn’t fully remember what they had said their plan was, but he remembered something about fire. He reached into his back pocket, a hint of relief going through him when his fingertips nudged the cool metal of his lighter.

He grunted as he stormed to the back of the car, tugging a bag from Dustin’s hands. “We need to go back to the Byers’ house, we aren’t doing this! Do you have any idea how dangerous, how… how stupid this is? We aren’t going down there!” He jabbed a finger towards the hole, narrowing his eyes.

“Steve, I know you’re mad,” Dustin began, holding out his hands like he was approaching a scared animal, shit, he kind of felt like one. He began rambling about party members, providing assistance, but Steve was having trouble following. He felt like he’d been stabbed through the eye, the pain nearly unbearable. But he could still stand, so it was something he’d have to push through. “...so keep us safe.” Dustin held the bag out towards Steve, the end of his nail bat sticking out of it.

Steve took a deep breath, licking blood off his lips and turning aside to spit it out. He wasn’t going to send the kids to their doom. He couldn’t let them go down there alone. Clearly there was no talking them out of this. He eyed the bag and cocked his head to the side, listening past the ringing in his ears. If he listened hard enough and closed his eyes, he could hear the scuffling of shoes in the dirt, the kids behind him. Fuck, he was doing this. He was doing another fucking stupid thing.

He grabbed the bag without a word, taking the bat out with his trembling arms. If his body didn’t start cooperating soon, he was going to introduce his skull to the nails embedded in the end, if only to get the throbbing pain to go away.

He put on the goggles and wrapped a bandana around his mouth, cringing as he peered down into the hole. He pushed past the kids and grabbed the rope, dropping himself down. His knees nearly gave out, but he could feel his adrenaline starting to spike, clearing some of the pain for the moment.

He was struggling to keep himself held together, aching down to his bones. But he took the lead, snatching the map from Mike and leading them through the stupid, gross tunnels with minimal heart attacks. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment when they reached the “hub” and listened through the ringing in his ears, the smell of gas cutting through the scent of blood in his broken nose.

He opened his eyes again when Max crept up to stand behind him, Lucas and Dustin crouching down next to him. Mike got down next to Dustin and looked up at Max, sharing a nod with her. Steve took as deep a breath as he dared, looking between the kids- one, two, three, four- and holding up his lighter. “Light ‘er up,” Dustin said, voice just loud enough to be heard past the ringing.

“I’m in such deep shit,” Steve sighed, flicking the wheel of the lighter. He threw it towards the mass in the center of the room, nearly falling backwards at the blast of heat rushing towards them. The room exploded into flames, licking up the walls, across the ground, they were just barely far enough away. The mass in the middle was tentacles, writhing and lashing out. They were ablaze like the rest of the room, horribly alive. The rotten smell grew worse, Steve could only imagine how awful it would smell without the blood clogging his nose. He watched in horror as the vines lashed towards them, only succeeding in hitting the walls, building the inferno higher and hotter.

Lucas gripped his sleeve, shaking him out of the near trace the flickering flames had drawn him into. He got to his feet, a renewed second wind in his chest, buzzing in his limbs as the danger began to sink in. He grabbed Lucas and Dustin’s arms, hoisting them up to their feet. “Let’s go! Come on, back to the rope!” He looked at the jerking tentacles as he pushed Mike ahead, shuddering as they seemed to reach for them, groping in a horribly aware kind of way.

He began to run after the kids, the heat of the flames searing his neck. It felt hotter than the dead of summer as he hurried down the tunnels, blindly trusting Mike and the others- one, two, three, four- ahead of him to remember the way back. He squeezed his left eye shut again, stumbling into the wall of one of the tunnels as he tried in vain to keep up, even as exhaustion crept in on him again, heavy in his limbs.

It was hard to breathe still, the difficulty a burden on his shoulders. As he rounded a corner, he could hear screaming, fumbling to get his bat at the ready. “Everybody back!” It was all kind of a blur, seeing Dustin and Max with their arms hooked around Mike’s as a tentacle grasped at his ankle. Steve swung the bat down in a practiced motion, bashing the tentacle over and over again, the nails tearing through what was almost flesh. He didn’t let up until Mike was dragged away, leg freed from the grip. Mike got to his feet, head swinging in a way that almost appeared manic, but he let Lucas drag him closer, let himself be inspected. “We have to go, guys.”

It was muffled, but goosebumps rushed across Steve’s skin when he heard the shrieking of a monster. His arms ached, his adrenaline couldn’t keep pumping like this, he knew he was running out of time to get the kids out of here, running out of time to have enough energy to get himself out of here. But he’d gone against three of these things, one wouldn’t be a challenge.

But then Dustin was reaching in his bag for something, shoving past Steve. “It’s Dart!” And yeah, the ugly little thing sure did have a yellow pattern on its butt. Steve reached out to grab his shoulder, but he was shrugged away along with his and the other kids’ protests. “Trust me.” He was too quiet for Steve to hear, he was pushing up the goggles and down the bandana and crouching down. And he wasn’t being torn to shreds, there was no blood, no flesh being ripped from bone.

Dart roared, Steve saw all the teeth, the void of its throat, and he tightened his grip on his bat, taking a step forward, but Dustin was… he was still okay.

Shit, this kid was pretty cool.

Dart began to eat something that Dustin tossed onto the ground, he was gesturing for them to go, so Steve followed his lead, glanced at the other kids- one, two, three, and Dustin- and hurried forward, willing his steps to stay quiet, lifting his feet carefully so they wouldn’t drag. He waited with the three kids at the mouth of the next tunnel, tense as they watched Dustin.

Moments felt like decades until Dustin was pulling the goggles back down and Dart was turning away. “Okay, let’s go!” He pushed the three kids to keep running, waiting until he could clasp a hand down against Dustin’s shoulder to pull him along and follow.

They were almost there, Steve knew they were almost there when the ground shuddered beneath their feet. He grabbed onto the wall to keep himself upright, afraid he might not get back up if he went down. Mike swung back, pointing his flashlight the way they’d come. “They’re coming!” he yelled. “Run!” Steve ushered the kids forward again as the ground stopped moving, pushing himself away from the walls.

The rope came into view and he pushed himself to run ahead, already crouching down to lift Max when she made it to him. She nearly kicked him in the head but he didn’t care.

One.

Lucas was next, reaching for the rope as Steve crouched again, wrapping his arms around the boy’s calves, lifting. He felt like he wasn’t in his body, blood rushing in his ears. Lucas was out.

Two.

Mike was next, Steve hated the fear in his eyes that he recognized. “Come on, come on, get out of here, okay?” His body strained as he lifted, Mike being pulled up by Max and Lucas.

Three.

Shit, shit, he could hear them coming, they were close. He looked at Dustin, who met his gaze with a grim, terrified look in his eyes. “Behind me.” Steve held up the bat, using his elbow to nudge Dustin back. The shadows against the wall came closer, the sound of feet smacking against the ground.

The first demodogs appeared, but they didn’t attack. They rushed past, smacking against Steve and Dustin’s legs, knocking them unsteady. Steve grabbed the rope with one hand, the other going around Dustin’s chest to yank him close. He squeezed his eyes shut, wishing he had something he believed in to pray to.

The second he didn’t hear more approaching, he crouched down again, muscles burning. “Up, let’s go, Dustin.” He lifted the boy up as high as he could, groaning slightly as he pushed him upwards when the other kids grabbed him. He felt dizzy as Dustin finally got out of the tunnels.

Four.

Steve sighed, taking the gloves off and throwing them to the ground before gripping the rope tight, trying not to impale himself on the nails in his bat. He pulled himself up, slow, refusing to let the kids grab him, but Dustin and Lucas grabbed the end of the rope anyway and pulled him up. He panted, yanking off the bandana and sucking in huge breaths of air to try and clear what felt like a hundred pounds of garbage clogging his throat and lungs. “We are never fucking doing that again, you got it, little shits?”

He didn’t hear the mumbled replies, staying on his hands and knees for another moment next to the hole. He got to his feet slowly, trying to hold on to the last of his adrenaline. He held a hand out to Max, sighing. “Keys.”

“What?”

“You aren’t fucking driving us back. Keys.”

“But you-”

“Just kept your asses alive down there. I can get us back to the Byers. And then you’re not driving again until you’re 25.”

“What? You can’t do that!” She dropped the keys in his palm, glaring.

Before he could argue back, the lights on the Camaro turned on, way brighter than they should have, brighter than the high beams would have been. He lifted a hand to shield his eyes, frowning. Not a minute later, they went back off. “She did it. She did it!” Mike yanked the other three- one, two, three, four- into a hug, the four of them jumping and shouting.

Steve stepped away, leaning tiredly against the car as relief sat heavy on him, almost as heavy as the brewing exhaustion. The gravity of everything that had happened was finally settling on his shoulders, making his gut start churning again. He gagged, leaning forward and spitting up whatever had come up this time, red glistening in the dim moonlight. Fuck, he had to get the kids out of there. “Come on,” he called once he’d spit out as much as he could. “In the car, you can scream all you want later.”

He didn’t listen to protests, just got in the car, threw the bat onto the floor of the passenger side, and closed his eyes, bracing himself as he started the engine. The other door swung open and he gripped the wheel, his split knuckles oozing blood. He’d clean up at the Byers’. “Alright you little shits, ready to go?” He forced his eyes back open and flipped on the headlights, glancing to his right to see Mike sitting next to him. In the back, Max had tucked her head against Lucas’ shoulder, Dustin on his other side. One, two, three, four.

It was into the early hours of the morning, the roads empty as he drove. The car was silent, the ringing in his ears finally starting to settle, but not by much. His head nodded forward a few times as he drove and he could feel Mike’s eyes on him, but he didn’t look back, just squinted at the road ahead. The Byers’ house had the lights on, the front door cracked open, and Steve’s heart skipped a beat.

“Did you not lock the door when you left?”

“We kind of had other things going on,” Mike snapped. “Like getting you in the stupid car.”

Steve rolled his eyes, pretending it didn’t send pain shooting through his skull. “Oh yeah, blame the guy who got knocked out protecting you. Sick move.” He parked and grabbed the nail bat, careful not to knock it against Mike’s legs. He let out a soft grunt as he got out of the car, a wave of dizziness almost making his knees buckle under him. He caught himself against the car as nausea swirled in his gut again. He didn’t want to throw up again, it would hurt too much if he did, his throat already hurt and his mouth already tasted like coppery death.

He sucked in a breath through his nose and trudged towards the house, holding the bat against his shoulder. He could hear the kids getting out of the car, but his focus was on the house, on finding Billy if he was still there. He used the end of the bat to nudge the door open, peering inside, but he didn’t see anyone. With halting steps, he made his way inside, the edges of his vision blurred. “Is anyone there?” he called out.

He didn’t hear a response and cringed when he saw spots of blood dotting the floor. He didn’t know whose it was, could feel blood sticking his hair to his scalp. He should wash it, make sure there wasn’t any ceramic stuck in the various cuts on his head.

“Steve?” He’d been standing there, still, for too long. He didn’t know how long.

He blinked, long and slow as he turned to face Lucas, who was watching him with a furrowed brow. “I don’t think…” The words were heavy, clumsy in his mouth. “I think he left.”

“I think you need to sit.”

Steve shook his head like he was trying to clear it. “No. I’m fine. Are any of you hurt?” The other three had trailed in behind Lucas, all of them swaying on their feet. “Jesus, you’re probably exhausted, go and lay down.” He rubbed his cheek, cringing as his palm tugged at a gash. “Go on.” He herded them to the couch and cleared away the scribbled drawings, watching as the four of them squished onto it, laying over each other.

“Steve-”

“Dustin, rest, okay?” He snagged Dustin’s hat and set it on the coffee table. “I’m sure someone will be back soon, we’ll know more then.”

It looked like he wanted to protest more, but Mike slumped against his side, curling up as he began to doze. That wiped the fight from Dustin, who let his head fall back, nearly knocking it against Lucas’. Max was curled up in a similar fashion to Mike, tucked into Lucas’ side.

Steve headed into the kitchen and tucked himself in a spot they wouldn’t be able to see before he let his knees give out. He gripped the edge of the counter and slid to the floor with a choked groan. He’d never felt so shitty. He’d had three concussions before, one in middle school, one freshman year, and one last year when Jonathan kicked his ass. But they’d never made him feel so dizzy, so sick, so… lost.

His throat still felt clogged from the frankly awful air quality in the tunnels, his ribs were too tight around his lungs, his stomach lurched every time he moved his head, his limbs trembled, and his head felt like it was removed from his body and being torn to shreds. His head knocked against the cabinets as he let it fall back. He was sure he’d be able to fall asleep just like that, soothe his disoriented exhaustion. But he wanted to clean up for Joyce. It was his fault things were such a mess. He’d had to protect Max and Lucas, but he should have tried to make the fight less destructive.

A sharp pain shot through his palm and he groaned in annoyance when he lifted his hand, seeing a shard of broken plate sticking out of it. Just his luck.

He yanked it out, definitely making the cut bigger, but he didn’t care. He pushed himself back to his feet and pressed his bleeding hand to his shirt to stem the flow. He was going to clean up some before Joyce got back if it killed him.

Steve’s body screamed, aches tearing at his muscles, head throbbing. He switched off the lights and pulled open the curtains, the moonlight enough to help him see. He swept up the shards of plate in short, jerky motions, wiped up the spots of blood that he could see reflecting the moon’s light, counted the kids asleep on the couch at least a dozen times, and dragged his body around the small house until finally, finally, his limbs gave out.

He wasn’t sure where he was, maybe in the hallway, maybe in the living room, but his back was against a wall and he just slid down until he was on the floor.

It was getting harder to keep his eyes open. He’d just close them for a few minutes, then he’d get back to cleaning. He owed Joyce that much, right?

He was shaken awake a while later, the lights turned back on above. He hissed in pain and lifted a hand to his face, covering his eyes. “Kid, are you okay?”

“Hi Hopper,” he croaked, voice weak. He didn’t have the energy to think or answer, just wanted to go back to sleep. There was a crick in his neck, but he hardly registered the pain on top of everything else that ached. “Mm, I’m just gonna stay here…” His words slurred together, it was too hard to think about how they sounded.

“I think we should get you to a hospital, Harrington. The kids told me you got beat to hell.”

“It’s fine.” Steve sat up straighter and opened his eyes, feeling his left eyelid twitch as he fought to keep them open. He got to his feet with no small amount of effort and did his best not to sway. He felt like he was standing on a ship in a hurricane. “I should really get home, though. Can you give me a lift?” He put all his effort into sounding like he didn’t feel like laying down at death’s door and really hoped Hopper didn’t see his hands and how much they shook. “My car is in the woods, I would’ve driven home, but I’m too tired to walk out and get it.”

“Christ, you need medical attention.”

Steve shook his head and pressed his lips together as he felt acid rise in his throat. Bile pooled on the back of his tongue and he could taste the metallic tang of blood in it. He swallowed, nearly gagging as it felt it slide back down his throat, stinging and hot. “I just want to go home.” He leaned on the wall and used it to guide himself back towards the living room, pausing when his vision went fully out of focus. Someone said something to the right of him, but he couldn’t hear over the ringing. “What?”

Dustin was standing in front of him. Steve didn’t know when he’d gotten up. Eleven had taken his spot on the couch, face stained with blood as she slept with Mike’s arm around her shoulders. “Steve?”

“Mhm? Yeah, it’s me, Dustin.” Steve reached towards him but paused when he saw coagulated blood on his palm. “Woah. Forgot about that,” he mumbled to himself. It was itchy now. He pressed it back to his side. He took a sharp breath in and looked around with unfocused eyes. “One two three four five- where’s Will? Is he okay?”

“Woah, easy.” Hopper’s hands were on his shoulders. “Easy. He’s at the hospital. Heat exhaustion and… some burns. He’ll be okay.”

“Okay. Okay.” That was six. He’d only had to count to four earlier, but he needed to remember six. That wasn’t so many.

Fingers snapped in front of his face. “Steve!”

Dustin was looking at him, he seemed worried. “Hm?”

“Do you know where you are?”

“I’m at the Byers’, dude. What is this?” He rubbed his head, trying to blink his eyes enough to get them to focus.

“Who’s the president?”

“Fuck, I don’t know. The fucking…. The asshole, Reagan.” Steve squinted at Dustin. “What’s with the interrogation?”

“You probably have a concussion. I’m checking.”

“Oh, but you didn’t check before dragging me underground, huh? I’ve had concussions before, I just need to rest. Which I would do better if I was at home.” He turned his gaze to Hopper, who was blurred, standing just a little too far away. “I’ll pop a few Tylenol and get some rest. A doctor can’t do anything for me anyway.”

“My mom doesn’t buy Tylenol anymore. She said it can kill you.”

Hopper rubbed a hand down his face. “It was a handful of people two years ago, it wasn’t the Tylenol, it was cyanide.”

“Don’t take any cyanide.”

Steve gave Dustin a look and trudged to the kitchen, where he’d left his bat. “I’m not going to take cyanide. I’m just going to rest.”

“I’m going to call you in the morning. And make sure you don’t die.”

“How do you plan on doing that? I don’t plan on giving you my number.”

“Phone book, duh.” Steve could already picture Dustin’s cocky expression, so he just didn’t turn around.

“Fine.” Hopper’s voice was gruff. “Someone is going to check in tomorrow, though. I’ll give you a lift home.”

Steve nodded, not trusting himself to get any more words out, not coherently at least. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth, his eyelids were heavy. He wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to keep himself coherent, if he was even managing that now. He rested a heavy hand on each of the kids’ heads, taking a moment to feel the warmth under his palm, reassurance that they were alive and okay as they can be. Max didn’t move, an arm loose around Lucas’ waist as she slept. Lucas stirred and brown eyes peered sleepily up at him. Steve thought he smiled at the boy, but wasn’t sure if his face had quite followed through, it might have just been a grimace. El’s eyes snapped open, but they eased back shut after she determined he wasn’t going to hurt her or any of the others. Mike just let out a sleepy grumble, hardly moving.

Dustin hugged him, arms uncomfortably tight around him, but Steve… didn’t care. He hugged back as tight as his aching shoulders let him, holding onto the kid like he might vanish, like the demodogs might come crashing through the window and take him away. “Stay safe,” he murmured, the words blending together.

“You too,” Dustin whispered.

Steve straightened up and rubbed at his eyes, Hopper’s heavy hand falling on his shoulder. For the second time that night, he found himself in the passenger seat of Hopper’s truck, head threatening to tilt forward. “Give me your car keys. You said it was by the tracks?”

Fumbling with his keys, Steve managed a nod. “Yeah. Just off the main road.” His fingers didn’t cooperate and it took almost the whole drive to separate his car keys from the rest.

“I’ll have someone drop it off tomorrow. Got a mail slot?” He took the keys, glancing over as Steve nodded. “They’ll put the keys in through there. I’ll be checking in on you. You did good tonight, keeping those kids safe. I don’t know what they would have done without you, and I don’t particularly want to think about it.”

“Okay.” Steve looked at his dark house as Hopper pulled up. It was sometime early in the morning, the sun would be coming up soon. “Thank you.” If Hopper said anything else, Steve couldn’t hear it. He got out of the truck and somehow managed to stay on his feet. He stumbled up to the door and stayed standing until he closed it behind him. His knees buckled as the door latched and he was on the floor.

It was more comfortable than it had any right to be. He could fall asleep there, stay there forever maybe. He blinked a few times, the drag of eyelids over his dry eyes painful, so he let them close for a little bit longer, maybe a few minutes. When he opened them again, the orange light of sunrise bathed the entryway. His mouth still tasted bad.

Getting to his feet took longer than it should have, but Steve had nothing but time. He nearly pitched forward over every step up to the second floor of the house, bracing his body against the wall. The aches had set in, nerves alight with pain, but his single minded focus got him upstairs. He touched his face as he stared at his reflection in the mirror, taking notice of rainbow bandaids for the first time. His skin was bruised to all hell, blood dried on his face. His hair was dark, saturated with blood and sticky. He swished with mouthwash and lowered his head, the counter digging uncomfortably into his gut.

The water was cold as he nudged his head under the faucet, stained red as it swirled down the drain. He didn’t have the energy for a shower, even though he was sure he was gross. He almost drifted off there, fingers twitching against his scalp. He probably would have fallen asleep if his finger didn’t nudge a piece of ceramic in his skin. He hissed, jerking awake. Damn it, he’d figured something like this would happen.

Steve bit the tip of his tongue and tried to breathe through his nose. It was broken and clogged, drawing a frustrated groan from him. He dug his teeth into his tongue harder even though it hurt, and pinched the shard of ceramic between shaking fingers. He let out a low whine and pulled, feeling it cut his head further and yank out a few hairs stuck in dried, coagulated blood. Bright red blood trickled down his cheek, turned pink in the water, and washed down the drain. He panted softly and pressed his fingertips along the throbbing, aching side of his head, wincing when his fingertips were sliced with another shard.

His motions repeated, chin bumping against the sink as he tried to cringe away from his own touch. The throbbing in his head was still nauseating and he knew he had to keep himself from throwing up again. He might pass out if his body tried to purge itself.

Three more shards got pulled from his scalp. He laid them next to the sink, white coated in his blood, hair stuck to the blood. He decided his hair was good enough, he wouldn’t make it all the way to his bed if he spent much longer with his head under the water. His shirt collar became damp as he stood up fully, water dripping from his hair, mostly clear of blood.

He used his shirt to dry his hair, looking down at himself, his aching body. He was dirty, in desperate need of a full shower, a few scrapes and bruises, but he was mostly sore. Most of the damage was to his head, which was good. Not good, but… not many injuries elsewhere aside from blisters on his feet.

His bed had never been so comfortable, jeans stripped off in the doorway to his bedroom. He hardly had his body fully on the bed before sleep snagged him and dragged him down, down, down into the blissful nothingness.

Chapter Text

Steve felt like he was going to throw up, and he was really fucking sick of throwing up. He let out a high pitched sound as he caught himself against the lockers lining the hall. It was Wednesday morning, just after third period, and he wasn’t sure he was going to make it through the day. “Steve!”

“Grant?” His voice was more of a croak than anything else. After Monday morning’s trip through the tunnels, he’d been totally knocked off his feet the second he let himself really stop moving. He’d managed to drag himself to bed, and despite knowing he shouldn’t, he’d slept for about 17 hours straight. He’d spent Tuesday dragging himself from one room of the house to the next, fielding calls from the kids and laying on the floor, drained from doing the absolute minimum.

He’d caught the bus to school, not wanting to risk driving, something he’d immediately regretted when the shouting of other students made his ears ring and his stomach nearly lose the glass of water he’d chugged after waking. He didn’t have anyone to call the school, and the last thing he needed was a pissed off phone call from his parents, so he didn’t want to risk cutting even one more day.

He regretted it. He so badly wanted to go home and collapse into his bed and bury himself under blankets for the next ten years. But he technically felt better than he had, even if it wasn’t by much.

“Yeah, it’s me.” Grant wrapped an arm around Steve to help him keep his balance, frowning. “Where have you been? Eddie heard that Hargrove kicked your ass, and Nancy and Jonathan haven’t been in since last week. What’s going on?”

“He got lucky,” Steve grunted. “I could’ve taken him out.” His words slurred together as he gripped Grant’s sleeve, feet dragging against the floor. “He’s an ass.”

“Yeah, yeah, he is.” Grant frowned when Steve almost pitched forward, dropping his books in his scramble to throw his shoulder against the wall, preventing himself from following. “Why don’t you let me carry those for you? You’re going to math next, right? Buckley’s in your class, I can ask her to keep an eye on you.”

“Don’t need a babysitter,” he grunted, shoulder aching as he picked up the notebooks. He was sluggish, squinting against the lights, left eye not quite focusing. “Shit. I don’t know if she even likes me, man.”

“Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure she does, but she at least tolerates you. Not something a lot of people can say.” Steve paused at that and looked up at Grant before tearing his eyes away. “Shit, hey, listen, I didn’t mean it like that. You’ve just…”

“I know,” Steve mumbled, tongue nudging at a tooth that wiggled a little too much for his comfort. “I know, okay? Everyone either hates me for being an ass or for not being one anymore. I’m lucky to have anyone who doesn’t wish I was dead.” He lifted a hand to his face, pressing his palm against the bruise that had bloomed against his cheekbone. It hurt, but the pain was grounding as he sucked in a deep breath. “I don’t… Fuck, man, I don’t know.”

Grant gave his shoulder a squeeze and Steve pretended it didn’t hurt. His whole body ached, his thighs still burned from walking the tunnels and through the forest, his ears still rung, he just felt like a disaster. But he still wasn’t sure drifting in and out of an uneasy sleep at home would be better. He just wanted to stop feeling, stop thinking. “Have you seen any of the others today? Eddie, Gareth, Jeff? Becca maybe?” Steve shook his head, the motion making his stomach churn.

He let himself be guided into his math class a few minutes before the bell and dropped his books on his desk, cringing at the sound it made. “Steve? Oh my god, I thought you were dead!” Robin’s voice was loud and so were her footsteps as she ran across the room to him.

“Why?” He squinted at her as he took a seat.

“I’ll leave him in your capable hands, Buckley.” Grant patted Steve’s shoulder. “We’ll be in the library at lunch, okay? I’ll find Eddie, let him know you aren’t dead.”

Steve groaned, covering his face. He should have brought his sunglasses. “How pissed is he that I didn’t call? I was going to on Sunday night, I was, I just…”

“Got your ass kicked, apparently. He’s…” Grant sucked in a breath. “I think he’s acting more pissed than he actually is. We’ve all been worried. You just… dropped off the radar, man.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” He leaned forward until the backs of his hands hit the desk, letting his voice be muffled. “I’ll see you at lunch.”

Footsteps echoed in his skull as Grant left, Robin kneeling on the chair in front of the desk to look at him. “You gonna tell me what happened?”

“Did the rumor mill not get to you yet? …what’s the rumor mill even saying?” Steve peeked up at her and she sucked in a sharp breath.

“Jesus.” She reached out and touched the bridge of his nose, making him jerk away. “I heard that you and Billy Hargrove got into a fight, but that’s it. He had a black eye yesterday, didn’t see him on Monday. But he looked way better than you do.”

Steve fixed her with a look. “Thanks.” He sighed. “Will Byers got… sick, while Ms. Byers was watching his friends. I got called in to keep an eye on them, and Hargrove’s step sister was with them. He came looking for her, didn’t like… who she was hanging out with. I got in between him and the kids and well, you can figure out the rest.”

“Didn’t like who she was hanging out with? What, a bunch of nerds…” Her voice trailed off. “Lucas Sinclair…?” At Steve’s nod, she sucked a breath through her teeth. “Yikes. I don’t know those kids personally, but Dustin Henderson lives up the street from me. I see his friends biking out there sometimes and when Will went missing last year, my parents and I were helping search with his mom, I guess he was staying with one of their other friends or something and-” She cut herself off. “Um sorry. Rambling is a bad habit of mine.”

“It’s okay. Means I don’t have to talk.” Steve gave her a weak smile, but all that did was make his split lip start bleeding again. He didn’t say anything, just tucked his head into the crook of his arms with a sigh.

A tissue was nudged into his hand, and when he lifted his head to press it against his lip, Robin was tucking something back into her purse. “Um… I hope you feel better soon. I hope your whole…” She gestured, looking uncomfortable. “Face… heals.” She turned around when the bell rang again and he just slumped down in his seat, covering his eyes.

The day was going by at a crawl. Steve winced as Eddie tried to hand him a packet of saltines, curled in on himself in the back corner of the library. He’d been trying not to heave all day, the rocking motions of just his own breathing feeling like too much. He shook his head and buried his face in his arms, Gareth’s hand on his elbow. “Steve,” he murmured, shifting a little closer. “Steve, you need to go home.”

“I can’t.” Steve’s voice cracked and he cringed at the sound as he took in a breath. “I need… can’t be absent again.”

“You look ready to fall apart.”

“I’m not falling apart, I’m just…” He rubbed his palm against his bruised, aching eyes. “I’m just tired.” Jeff and Grant shared a glance, and a spark of frustration lit in Steve’s chest. He clung to it. It was easier than trying to address the real jumble of emotions burning behind his eyes. “I’m not going home,” he grumbled, pushing the packet of crackers away. “I’m not hungry.”

“When did you last eat?” Something about Eddie’s voice made him want to spill everything. Made him want to listen and do whatever he wanted.

“It doesn’t matter.” He’d had a granola bar on Sunday before picking up Dustin. The idea of eating made his stomach clench though, and he’d thrown up yesterday when he’d tried to eat a slice of bread, unable to get past the first few nibbles.

“It matters. Look, Steve, I’ve had concussions before. And what you’re doing isn’t gonna make you feel better.”

“Eddie-“

“Please. For me?”

Steve peeked up at Eddie’s face and swallowed, hating the way his chest tightened. He didn’t say anything, but he picked up the crackers and tore the thin plastic wrapper. The crunching was loud in his head and his jaw ached as he chewed. He lifted his hand to rub at the aching, bruised skin, the warmth helping just a little. He could feel the eyes on him as he ate and squeezed his own shut, pushing past the sick feeling to finish the two crackers. His stomach churned, but he didn’t feel like he was going to throw them back up.

“There we go,” Eddie murmured. “That’s a good start.” He reached to hold Steve’s hand, thumb brushing across his knuckles.

God, Steve had gotten this far without bursting into tears, his emotions and thoughts all swirling in his head, an overwhelming pressure against his skull. It was too much, he was scared, he was tired, he needed everything to stop. This couldn’t be what broke him, a tiny touch on the hand, he couldn’t break, he was a Harrington, he wasn’t allowed-

Steve yanked his hand away, pressing it to his mouth and taking sharp breaths through his nose as nausea spiked. He nearly pitched himself off the chair, dizziness making him unsteady. “Woah, hey, hey, you’re alright Steve. In and out, slow breaths.” Jeff nudged Eddie aside, coaching Steve through breathing. He was able to catch his breath and keep himself from hurling after a few long moments, the lump in his throat painful as he swallowed it back. He didn’t want to go back to his house, didn’t want to go back to the empty silence. “Are you going to throw up?”

“I don’t think so.” Steve let his hand drop from his mouth, feeling like he was under control once again. As under control as he could be. “Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing man,” Grant said softly. “You’re hurt right now, it’s okay. Do you ever let anyone take care of you?”

“I take care of myself.” He let his voice sharpen, trying to get them to drop it. Something defensive was curled up in his chest, wrapped around his ribcage. “It’s gotten me this far.” He bent his arm on the table and buried his face in the crook of his elbow, draping his other arm over the top of his head. He brushed his fingertips over a scabbed over gash on the side of his head, hidden by his hair. It had bled longer than he was comfortable with, but he hadn’t sought out any medical attention. He wasn’t weak, he could handle a little bit of pain and blood.

As soon as he had his head down, drowsiness tugged at him, pulling him down, down, down. He felt his body lose its tension before he fell asleep, drifting through the dark abyss of rest. He didn’t usually fall asleep so fast, had gotten used to aimless tossing and turning, but the last few days had him slipping seamlessly between awake and asleep. It was a shock he hadn’t had any nightmares yet, but he wasn’t complaining.

When he was nudged awake, presumably at the end of lunch, his head snapped up, eyes darting as he took stock of his surroundings. He didn’t know if he was safe, never knew if he was safe, but Gareth was peering at him with open worry. “I really think you should go home.”

“Don’t have my car.” Steve rubbed his eyes, leaning back in his chair and slumping down. “Took the bus.”

Eddie slid another packet of crackers towards him. “Meet me out front after school, I’ll drive you home.”

“Eddie, you don’t-”

“Hey.” Eddie frowned. “You’d do the same for me, I know you would. You drove Jeff home back at the beginning of the year when he got sick in sixth period. You drove me around when my van was out of commission back in summer. Let me do this for you, man.”

“...okay.” Steve nodded, despite the pain it sent shooting through his skull. He looked down at the crackers, stomach feeling unsteady, but he tore the package open anyway. He knew they were all watching him, the tight, unpleasant feeling still tight in his chest. He shoved a cracker into his mouth, knowing it had been too long since he’d eaten. He knew how long he could usually go between meals before it started to hurt, but everything hurt so badly that he didn’t think he’d be able to register hunger. He hadn’t had a real meal since… well, Halloween at lunch. The argument with Nancy had sent him off kilter.

And now the nausea. He didn’t want to eat, but he needed to. He powered through the ache of his jaw and the churning of his stomach, feeling the very distant edges of the nausea start to ebb. Maybe he was hungry. It was hard to tell anymore, he just felt like a stranger in his body.

He didn’t remember the rest of his day, was only mostly sure he attended the rest of his classes. He remembered a hug from Gareth that had been a little too tight before he left the library. That had almost made him cry too, but instead, he’d just hunched over so he could tuck his face against Gareth’s shoulder, his sweatshirt soft against Steve’s broken nose. He had spent the day drifting through the halls, pain the only thing grounding him to his body, ignoring the whispers that chased him, ignoring the stares that bored into his skin. He didn’t remember making his way to Eddie’s van, doesn’t know if they talked on the drive. The ringing got worse after a long day, echoing off the inside of his skull. Maybe Eddie tried to talk to him but he didn’t hear it.

Steve let out a sigh that was almost a whimper as he made it to the couch. His bedroom felt so far away, too far away. He wasn’t sure he’d make it up the stairs this time, so the couch would be fine. He grabbed a throw pillow and held it to his face, basking in the relief from the light. His eyes and head ached, his stomach kept churning, but he was home, he could rest. He was probably safe as long as he avoided the pool, but that was a given to him.

He lifted his head from the pillow when footsteps cut through the ringing in his ears, blearily watching as Eddie searched for a glass and filled it. “You don’t have to stay.” The words felt heavy on his tongue. He meant it, but he didn’t mean it. He didn’t want Eddie to feel pressured to stay. But he didn’t want Eddie to leave.

“I’ll hang out for a while!” Eddie’s voice was chipper, but Steve knew it was for show. He didn’t have the energy to fight him though. Eddie would do what he wanted to, something that made a smile creep across Steve’s lips.

Before he could let himself collapse to the side, though, a shrill ringing cut through the house. Steve hissed and lifted a hand to cover his ear as he got to his feet. He trudged to the phone in the kitchen and leaned heavily on the wall. “Harrington residence, Steve speaking.”

“Stephen, how good to hear from you, darling.”

“Mother.” Steve straightened up instinctively, toying with the coiled phone cord. “How- how is New York?”

“Dreadful, my dear.” Her accented voice had a mix of dismay and joy pooling in Steve’s stomach. He hadn’t seen her in… at least a month, maybe two, he thought. It was harder for him to remember dates at the moment though. He missed her. “Dreadfully cold and dreary.”

“It’s getting cold here, too. Are you and father coming home soon?” He didn’t know what he wanted the answer to be. It would probably be soon if they were coming back before the end of the year. He could feel Eddie’s eyes on him and he pressed himself into the wall like he could hide there and disappear.

“Oh, I doubt it. Your father does hate the roads this time of year. Perhaps when it warms up we’ll visit. For now, we’re headed to visit your aunt in Miami for the rest of the month, then to Texas for several weeks so your father can check in on some investments.”

“O-oh, tell Aunt Wendy I said hi…”

“How are you, dear? Is school going well?”

It took Steve a moment to swallow the lump in his throat and catch his breath. He felt like he’d been hit in the head with a plate all over again. “Um, I’m good. School is okay.” He was going to have to tell her about his concussion. He didn’t have a doctors’ note, he hadn’t gone, but his coaches already knew, he was sure of it. They’d kick him off the teams, his father would find out.

“Are you staying healthy? Eating right?” He knew what she meant by eating right. Eating as little as possible to get by. He wanted to throw up, maybe then she would be satisfied, maybe it would finally be the right thing to do if he purged everything inside him.

Steve looked down at himself and wrapped an arm around his stomach. He had lost weight again. He kept losing weight, but that was good, he was supposed to look good. “I’m doing my best. I… I think I lost a few pounds…”

“Excellent. Appearance is everything, remember that.”

“I know, mother.” He blinked a few times, rapid enough that it was making his head ache worse. “You won’t be home for thanksgiving?” Not that he’d been expecting them to, but it hurt for some reason. It hurt more than it had in a long time, the pounding behind his skull exacerbating the sadness seeping into his voice.

“No, no, we’ll be with your aunt, aren’t you listening, Stephen?” Her tone took on an annoyed edge and Steve had to bite his tongue to keep himself from apologizing and begging for forgiveness. She hated when he would blurt out apologies, said it was unbecoming. What was wrong with him? Had she said that? Every thought was beginning to feel like sand, sifting through his fingers before he could latch on to it. “Thanksgiving is such an ugly holiday, so… American,” she said distastefully.

“I… suppose so.” He wrapped the cord around his finger, tight enough that his fingertip began to pale above his bruised knuckles. He pulled harder, watching as the pale turned pink and began to darken. He swallowed again, eyes burning as he looked at the floor.

“I’ll have your aunt call when we arrive at her place. I need to finish packing your father’s things now, goodbye Stephen, we love you.”

“I love you too-“ She had hung up before the words finished leaving his mouth.

He hung up the phone and let himself slide down to the floor, tilting his head up towards the ceiling and squeezing his eyes shut tight. A shaky exhale pulled from his lips as he fought the prickling burn behind his eyes. He shouldn’t have expected anything different, he shouldn’t be upset. He should be over it, should be old enough to accept what he was given and not want more. He just wanted to be enough to make them want to come home.

What would his mother even do if she were home? He could tend to his own injuries. She’d never been one for hugging, just a kiss on the cheek if she was feeling particularly affectionate. She’d tell him to take some aspirin and go outside. That exercise would make him feel better, even if the simple act of shaking his head was enough to make him nauseated.

God forbid his father be home to see him like this. He’d be angry, yell at Steve about how he shouldn’t have lost a fight, shouldn’t have gotten into any fight he didn’t know for sure he’d win. Call him ungrateful. Tell him to be a man and pick himself up.

Yeah, if either of his parents were home, he wouldn’t be resting. He’d already rested though, a full day, almost two, and he wanted to be okay again, didn’t understand why he was still in so much pain. He wanted to be fine again.

“Steve?” Eddie’s voice was quiet, and when he opened his eyes, Eddie was crouched down in front of him. “Hey.” He pressed a glass of water into Steve’s hands. “I… was that your parents?”

“My mother.” He ached to call her mère again, like when he was little. He was grasping for comfort where there was none to be found. “They, um, they’re going to visit my aunt, she wanted to let me know in case I need to call them.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, hissing at the pain it caused him. Instead of pulling his hand away, he pinched harder, using the pain to ground himself. “She likes to check in on me sometimes.”

“You didn’t tell her you got hurt.”

“They’ll find out somehow. Mother likes gossip, I’m sure she’ll hear it through the grapevine soon. I’m just… biding time until they kick me off the basketball team. Father is… he won’t be pleased.” Steve sipped the water, letting it soothe the lump in his throat.

“What was that about losing weight? Do I need to make sure you eat? Because I will absolutely call you constantly to make sure you do.” Eddie’s eyes held Steve’s, his hand reaching to hold his arm.

Steve flinched away, immediately cringing at himself. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “It’s just… it’s nothing. I eat enough, she just wants me to look my best, is all. I can always stand to lose a few pounds, you know?” He patted his stomach with a painfully fake laugh. A tired numbness began to spread across his body, taking away the burning behind his eyes. He blinked away the dampness and finished the glass of water as fast as he could. “Maybe I’ll just go up to bed, you should go.” He pressed his hands against the wall and braced himself, getting to his feet.

His head swirled and he nearly pitched over, an aborted gasp catching in his throat when Eddie grabbed his shoulders to steady him. “Easy, big boy.” Eddie tugged Steve’s arm over his shoulders, bumping his cheek against his wrist. “I’ll get you upstairs, you protect that pretty head of yours, okay?”

Steve didn’t answer, just dropped his head against Eddie’s shoulder. He squeezed his eyes shut and allowed himself to be led. He hadn’t let anyone care for him, not since he was little. And he hated to admit that it felt nice. He didn’t have to think too deeply, he could just let Eddie take the lead. He tried not to think too deeply about the phone call with his mother, about how he was looking at another Thanksgiving alone, probably another lonely Christmas.

A laugh jerked from him as he thought about the coming year, about how 1985 wouldn’t be the year his parents suddenly cared enough to be around. It wasn’t funny, but it was, a little. He’d always had the sneaking suspicion that he hadn’t been wanted, not really. It just felt more real than it used to. “What’s on your mind, sweetheart?” Eddie got him up the stairs, giving him a moment at the landing to catch his breath and get his feet under himself.

“Nothing,” he muttered, nuzzling his cheek against Eddie’s sleeve. “Just wishing my head didn’t hurt.” He blew out a long breath, feeling Eddie’s hair brushing his cheek. “Eddie?”

“Hm?” Eddie guided Steve until his legs bumped his bed.

“Will you… will you stay? Just until I fall asleep?” His voice was small and pathetic, he couldn’t bring himself to look at Eddie.

“Always.” He kept guiding Steve until he was laid down in bed, the exhaustion finally overwhelming. It was finally too much, he had nothing left. He barely felt Eddie sit down on the bed before his eyes fell shut and he was pulled into warm, sweet nothingness.

Chapter Text

Steve’s tongue poked out as he used the comb in his hands to finish styling Dustin’s hair. “Aaaaand there. That should be… that’s the best I’m gonna do.” He cocked his head, putting his hands on his hips. “Your hair is way curlier than mine, but… what do you think?” He stepped back to let Dustin turn and look in the mirror.

Dustin beamed, leaning forward with his hands against the sink. “It looks awesome! Steve, thank you!” He turned, smile wide as he looked up at Steve. “I am going to kill at this dance!”

“Slow your roll there.” Steve couldn’t help his soft laugh. “The confidence is good though, keep that.” He patted Dustin on the shoulder, setting the comb and hairspray on the counter. “Maybe get to the dance before you decide to kill it,” he joked.

The joke got a flat stare from Dustin. He was such a judgemental teenager, Christ. Steve knocked his fist against the side of Dustin’s head, grinning when it made him laugh. “Steve,” he whined, shoving past him to get out of the bathroom.

Steve just rolled his eyes and followed, grabbing his sweatshirt from where he’d set it on the couch. “Go say bye to your mom, but hurry! You don’t want to be late, man.”

“I’m hurrying!” Dustin ran into the kitchen, Steve waiting while he pulled on his sweatshirt.

He hadn’t expected to hear from Dustin after everything that had happened. He frowned and rubbed his head as he thought back to the tunnels, the beat down, the terror of that long fucking night. He’d expected his life to go back to how it had been before, but Dustin had called the very next day to make sure he was nursing his concussion.

He’d only lied a little, said he was resting more than he was. Said his vision had cleared up when his left eye was still a little unfocused. But he didn’t need a kid worrying about him.

Dustin had managed to worm his way into Steve’s life, and it was looking like that wouldn’t change. Steve wasn’t too upset about it though. It was like keeping an eye on Will, he didn’t mind it. It was nice.

He looked up when Claudia walked Dustin back into the living room. “Thanks for taking my Dusty to the dance!” She was cradling a kitten in one arm, the other hand on Dustin’s head as he tried to get it away.

“It’s no problem at all, Ms. Henderson. I’m meeting up with a friend tonight and the middle school is on the way. No skin off my back.”

“You have friends?”

“Dustin!” Claudia chastised.

“I- did you think I don’t have friends?” Steve wasn’t sure if he should be offended or not. He probably should be, actually.

“You’re never busy when I call you!”

“Yeah, because I got kicked out of swim and basketball for getting too many concussions. And I was, you know, dealing with a concussion for a few weeks. I have friends.” Steve sighed, shaking his head. “Let’s go, you little jerk, before I change my mind.”

“I’m coming!” Dustin hurried to hug his mom before bolting to the door. “Bye mom!”

Claudia shook her head as Steve gave her a small smile. “Mrs. Wheeler is going to give him a lift home. Have a good night!”

“Drive safe, dear.”

Steve waved, hustling Dustin out the door. Dustin started yanking on the door handle, making Steve groan. “Come on man, you know you need to wait for me to unlock it! Be gentle with the car.” He unlocked it, rolling his eyes when Dustin yanked open the door. He gave Dustin a look, waiting for him to buckle his seatbelt.

Dustin buckled himself in, but made sure Steve saw him roll his eyes about it. “Can I turn on the radio?”

“Yeah, sure, go nuts.” Steve pulled out of the driveway, static filling the car for a moment before Dustin began to flip through different stations. He didn’t have a lot of opinions about music, not the way Eddie or Jonathan did, though he’d been listening to a lot more rock since he’d been unceremoniously adopted by the Hellfire Club. He just tapped along to the beat on his steering wheel, glancing over at Dustin. “You excited for tonight?”

Dustin nodded, squirming in his seat, hands moving as he fidgeted with his bow tie. “Yeah. Yeah, definitely excited.”

Steve reached over to knock his hands away from the bow tie. “Hey, it took us like half an hour to get that tied, don’t ruin it.” He sighed as Dustin instead started to fidget with the buttons on his jacket. “You’re gonna be great. I bet you’ll be dancing with Max before you know it.”

Dustin groaned, his head falling back against the headrest. “Steeeeve, I told you already, it’s not Max! I don’t want to dance with her.” His expression soured, chest heaving with an exasperated sigh. “But… thanks. I guess.”

“Well, whoever it is, you’re gonna have fun. That’s what this shit is about. I wish I’d been this excited for stuff when I was your age.” Steve laughed, coming to a stop at a red light.

“Did you go to your Snow Ball?”

“I… I did. Tommy’s mom drove me, but he and Carol kind of… well, they didn’t abandon me, but I was the third wheel, you know?” He frowned, remembering sitting on the bleachers alone. He hadn’t wanted to ask any girls to dance, he’d just wanted to spend the night with his friends. He remembered Tommy talking about how his dad helped him with his tie, Carol complaining about her mom braiding her hair. He remembered the ache of jealousy, the bitterness he’d felt. He’d ended up sneaking out to smoke cigarettes he’d pilfered from his father’s office. “It wasn’t that memorable for me.”

“Oh.”

“But you’re going to have more fun than I did, kid. If nothing else, you’ll be hanging out with your friends, right?”

“Yeah. Yeah.” Dustin nodded, more to himself than Steve as the car turned into the middle school drive.

“Alright, remember, you’re gonna go in there…”

“I’m gonna pretend I don’t care.” Dustin sat up a little straighter.

Steve sucked a breath through his teeth. “Ah, that might not have been my best advice. Be yourself, if whatever girl doesn’t like you, that’s her loss.” Dustin looked down at his lap, hands gripping his pants tightly. “Hey.” Steve knocked his fist against Dustin’s arm. “You look great.”

“I look great.” Dustin nodded slowly, reaching to pull the mirror to look at himself.

“Hey, hey, come on. I’m serious, you look great.” Steve readjusted the mirror. “You’re gonna go in there-”

“Yeah.”

“Look like a million bucks-”

“Yeah!”

“And knock ‘em dead. Okay?”

“Like a lion.” Dustin purred, making Steve cringe.

“Maybe… Maybe don’t do that.”

“Don’t do that.” Dustin nodded, brightening when Steve held out a hand. Their hands clasped for a moment and Steve wondered if this is what it felt like to be an older brother.

“Good luck, Dustin.”

Dustin nodded, rolling his shoulders before getting out of the car. Steve watched him go, waiting until he got inside to shift back into gear. He pretended the Christmas lights didn’t make his stomach feel tight. He sighed softly when he caught a glimpse of Nancy. She was beautiful, always had been, but something about the sight of her made Steve feel… lighter. Lighter in a way that didn’t hurt anymore.

But he had elsewhere to be tonight.

He grabbed a cassette and shoved it into the player, smiling when KISS began to pump through his speakers, one of Eddie’s mixtapes. Warmth spread in his chest as he pulled out of the parking lot, the music settling under his skin. He liked listening to this kind of music in the car, especially when he could feel the vibrations in his hands, could hear the music through the ringing in his ears that hadn’t quite gone away.

The streets were quiet and dark. But it was Hawkins, that was to be expected, especially as he turned the car towards the trailer park. It was a familiar path to him, but tonight, his heart was pounding and his palms were sweating. As he parked next to Eddie’s van, the door was already swinging open, Eddie standing there in pajama pants and a loose tee. He wrapped his arms around himself to ward off the chill, beaming as Steve got out of his car.

“Hey.” Steve waved, locking the car and shoving the keys in his pocket. “Get inside before you freeze.”

“It’s barely cold.” Eddie’s teeth chattered as he shifted from foot to foot. “It’s a normal temperature.”

“Oh my god, just go inside.” Steve made a shooing motion as he hurried up to the door. “You’re such a dork.”

“Don’t fucking slander my name.” Eddie shivered as he was nudged inside. “I’m a very cool and neat guy.”

“Neat, yeah.” Steve snorted, pulling the trailer door shut behind him. “You were outside for ten seconds. Are you cold?”

“Maybe a little.” Eddie’s eyes widened a little as Steve closed the space between them. “What are you- oh, that’s nice.” He hummed as Steve began to rub his hands up and down his chilly arms.

“Do you have low iron or something? You’re freezing.”

“Or something,” Eddie murmured, biting his lip as he looked down at Steve’s hands on him.

Steve could feel his own face warming, but he didn’t pull his hands away. “You should warm up, man.” He licked his lips, mouth suddenly feeling dry. “You should, um, go get some blankets. You said you rented something for us to watch, right?”

“Right, yeah, yeah.” Eddie nodded, his gaze still locked on the hands on his arms. Steve didn’t want to pull away, but he felt suddenly self conscious of making Eddie uncomfortable. He gave a light squeeze and dropped his hands to shove them in his pockets. Eddie frowned, but he was turning away before Steve had the time to question it. “I swung by Family Video bright and early this morning, managed to snag a copy of…” He did a little drumroll on his thighs, something that had Steve rolling his eyes, chest swelling with fondness in a way that it only would for him. “The Year Without a Santa Claus. Classic shit right here.”

“Classic? It’s not that old!” Steve toed off his shoes and made himself comfortable on the couch, stretching his legs out in front of him with a cozy hum. He watched as Eddie bent down to contend with the VHS player, maybe watching a little too closely.

“Classic material then. You’ll see!” Eddie got the tape fed into the player and got the movie started. He took a moment to stare at Steve, his smile growing. “You look good like this. Comfy.”

“I’d be comfier if you joined me.” Steve patted the cushion next to him and was pleasantly surprised when Eddie immediately took up the offer, pressing in close so they were practically on top of each other, sharing warmth. “There’s a whole couch, you know.” He tugged Eddie in a little closer by the sleeve, letting out a tiny yawn. Eddie seemed to hesitate, but relaxed into Steve’s side, stretching his legs out. Steve glanced over out of the corner of his eye, biting the inside of his cheek as he admired those long legs. Even in the baggy pajama pants he looked fucking good.

He settled in to watch the movie, only halfway aware of the story. He was too focused on the hand that rested on his knee. He could feel how cold it was through his jeans and stared at it for a long moment.

Steve took a slow breath before taking Eddie’s chilly hand in both of his and rubbing to start warming his skin.

Eddie didn’t say anything, but soft curls were in front of Steve’s eyes as he dropped his head to his shoulder. His hair was soft against Steve’s neck and he nuzzled in closer. It smelled clean and fresh and he knew he’d be dreaming about it tonight. Steve laughed softly and bit his lip, hesitating. But he lifted the hand, exhaling slowly to blow warm air over it. He brushed his lips against Eddie’s knuckles, light enough that it could be passed off as an accident, just in case he was reading this entirely wrong.

Which he thought he might be when Eddie’s hand was suddenly jerked away from his hold, quicker than he knew how to process. “Sorry,” he blurted out before he’d even fully processed the loss. “I was- I was just-”

“Steve.” His name sounded good like that, coming from Eddie’s mouth, hardly louder than a breath. “Steve, I can’t… not like this, I can’t let you- you just- you’re making me crazy, man!” Eddie dragged his hand through his hair, shifting so they weren’t touching anymore.

Steve already missed being pressed against him, missed the warmth where their bodies had touched. He shouldn’t have done that, it didn’t matter how much he’d wanted to, how close they had been, how much he wanted to kiss Eddie’s face. That had definitely crossed a line somewhere. “I- I’m sorry. That was weird, I should go. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, I just- woah!” He’d started to get up, ready to go home and bury himself in blankets and hide until after winter break, but Eddie reached out and grabbed his wrist. “...Eddie?”

“Steve, that’s not- that’s not what I mean. I don’t want you to go, man.” Eddie sighed softly. “You should know something.” He tugged until Steve sat back down, but didn’t look up to meet his gaze, even as the already forgotten movie filled the room, keeping it from falling silent. “You shouldn’t be all… touchy with me. You shouldn’t let me sit so close or cuddle up to you or whatever. It’s not… normal, it can’t be normal, not with me. It’s not fair to you.”

Steve blinked, staring at him for a moment, trying to focus on him and not the little animated characters singing about the Heat Miser. “What do you mean? Do you not like being touched? That’s totally fine, but I wish you’d said something.” He would be fine if Eddie wouldn’t touch him, it’s not like he dreamed of holding Eddie and being held by him in turn. …he only sometimes dreamed of that.

Eddie groaned, a loud sound as he tilted his head back. “That’s not what I mean!” Another agonizing few moments passed before Eddie turned to look at Steve, staring him dead in the eye. “I mean that I’m gay, Steve. I’m fucking queer and you shouldn’t be touching me. It’s not fair to you because I think about it way too much and in gross ways that should make you want to run away from me. I’m using you, Steve!” His eyes were big and wet and pretty.

Steve felt like he was being sucked in. “Using me?”

“Using you! I dream about things I want to do to you and it’s totally inappropriate. I think about your hands and your face and your voice! And your stupid, perfect hair!”

There wasn’t much he could say to that. Saying ‘me too’ felt impersonal and Eddie hadn’t said the word love, so ‘I love you too’ was out… But he couldn’t wait too long to say something either, he knew that would make Eddie spiral and panic.

So maybe he didn’t have to say anything.

Instead, Steve reached out to hold Eddie’s face, fingers curling against his jaw. Before Eddie could open his mouth to say anything more, Steve leaned in and pressed their lips together, slow and gentle. He hadn’t kissed anyone in over a year now, and he might have been worried he’d forgotten how if it wasn’t for the warmth of hands cradling his face and the slow movement of lips against his.

Eddie was kissing back.

He was kissing Eddie and Eddie was kissing back!

“Holy shit,” Steve whispered as Eddie broke the kiss. He let out a tiny noise in the back of his throat and tried to lean in to chase his mouth and kiss him again, he wanted to kiss Eddie for the rest of time, exist in this moment until he could soak in every minute detail. But Eddie was pulling away and his eyes were shining. When he blinked, a tear began to roll down his cheek. “Are you crying?” A slight undertone of panic was caught in Steve’s voice. “Oh shit, are you okay? Was that the wrong move?”

“No, no, I’m okay!” Eddie laughed and dropped his hands from Steve’s face so he could wipe his eyes. “I’m okay, that definitely wasn’t the wrong move, that was… that was incredible, Stevie.” He cleared his throat and let out a small laugh. “Really incredible. I didn’t know you were gay.”

“I had the most obvious crush on Jonathan Byers in the world, Eddie.” He let out a little giggle, blushing. “I’m… I like both. I like girls too, but… but I mostly just like you. Really like you.”

Eddie leaned in and pulled Steve in close, nuzzling his face into his neck. Steve took a deep breath and held his waist, just soaking in the scent of his shampoo, something like cucumber and mint. “I really like you, Steve. So much, man, it’s been killing me! I tried so hard to ignore how I felt, I mean, how could I fall for a jock, but you’re… you’re more than a jock, you know?”

Steve laid back with a laugh, tugging Eddie so he was on top of him. “You’re ridiculous. You’re worried about me being a jock?” He felt more at peace than he had in a long time, Eddie’s weight on top of him grounding, comfortable.

“A little. You’re not what I expected, Steve. Not what I thought you’d be at all.” Eddie sat up a little and let his hands skim over his waist. “You’ve changed my view on strong, pretty boys. Turns out they can be pretty sweet… and fun… and nice.” He leaned back in to catch Steve’s mouth, their lips sliding together. It was the best kiss Steve had ever had in his life.

His hands slid easily through Eddie’s curls, soft and silky. He let out soft noises as Eddie’s hands slid up to his chest. He could feel the warmth of them through his thick sweater, and that was enough to have him getting hard for the first time in… awhile. He pushed Eddie away and blushed, clearing his throat. “Eddie, we- I’m…”

Eddie shifted his weight and grinned as his thigh brushed against the front of Steve’s pants. “Oh? Do you want me to…?”

“No.” Steve looked away. “Listen, um, Eddie, it’s not that I don’t want you, I just don’t want to rush this. I don’t want this to be one night. I want this to be more than a sex thing.” He squeezed his eyes shut when Eddie’s hand rested on his cheek.

“That’s okay.” His voice was low and reassuring as he shifted his weight back on Steve’s thighs. “We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for. Someday though? Because I really want to see you shirtless and touch you and put my mouth on you-”

“Eddie, please.” Steve groaned. “Alright, come here and kiss me, watch the tongue.” He opened his arms, laughing as Eddie flopped forward to press their bodies together.

“Nah. I don’t think I’ll be able to watch the tongue,” he teased, nuzzling in close. “We’ve missed a bunch of the movie anyway.”

Steve’s hand found its way back into Eddie’s hair and he hummed. “Yeah… okay.” He tilted his head forward to breathe in the scent of Eddie’s shampoo again. He didn’t know a scent could be so comforting.

Eddie nuzzled in close, warmer than any blanket and more comforting than anything Steve had ever felt.

Chapter Text

Steve’s hands buried in Eddie’s hair, fingers wrapping in soft curls as he held onto him like a lifeline. Eddie’s mouth was warm against his, his hands sliding over his stomach and hips under his shirt. Steve felt like the whine he let out was physically pulled from his chest, enough that he had to pull back to catch his breath. “Eddie,” he whispered, swallowing hard.

“I’ve got you, Stevie.” Eddie’s hands drifted along his sides and up to his chest, the metal of his rings chilly against his skin. “Is this okay?” His voice was soft as he pressed a kiss to the corner of Steve’s mouth, lingering. It made his breath catch in his throat as their eyes met.

“Yeah, really okay.” He cleared his throat and his hands slid to cup Eddie’s cheeks, one of his thumbs tracing the curve of his lip. “I think you can do anything to me and I’ll be okay with it.” He tugged Eddie’s head forward to connect their lips again, sighing into the kiss. His eyes fluttered shut as Eddie’s tongue brushed along his lower lip, easing into his mouth.

There was a gentleness that Eddie retained, even as he guided Steve backwards until he hit the wall. Steve gasped against Eddie’s mouth, eyes rolling back as a thigh slotted between his legs. Eddie’s thumb caught against a nipple, drawing a sharp moan from the back of Steve’s throat. Ever since he’d left the swim team, he’d stopped shaving, his short, bristly chest hair still a new sensation. He liked the way it felt when Eddie ran his fingers through it.

He whined, a high, embarrassing sound when Eddie’s mouth moved away from his. “Eddie, please,” he whispered, hands gripping his shirt.

“I’ve got you, Stevie.” Eddie pressed slow, wet kisses to Steve’s jaw, making him shiver. “This okay? Not too much, is it?”

“I want you, Eddie, please-“

“Ah, that’s not what I asked.” Eddie’s hands slipped from under Steve’s shirt. He gripped his chin, tugging to force him to make eye contact. “Are you overwhelmed? We can slow down.”

Steve swallowed, eyes darting as he tried to get his brain to catch up with his body. “It’s… it’s a lot,” he said softly, eyes closing for a moment. “I want this but…”

“I’m the first guy you’ve been with, right?”

“And it’s been… awhile.” Steve nodded as Eddie let go of his chin. “Maybe… maybe slowing down would be good.”

“Slow is good,” Eddie agreed. He took Steve’s hand and led him through the trailer to his bedroom. Steve’s hands were shaking, but Eddie’s were steady and warm, soothing some of the bubbling anxiety that was brewing in his gut.

Eddie sat on the bed with his back against the pillows, pulling Steve up onto the bed. He reached for Steve’s face and pulled him in close to share a gentle kiss, stroking his cheek. Steve relaxed into the kiss, taking slow breaths through his nose as Eddie’s tongue prodded against his lips. He liked that Eddie was taking the lead, liked not having to be in charge. A low sound was tugged from his throat when Eddie pulled away, lips parted slightly, slick with their mixed saliva. “Do you want to take your shirt off?”

Steve nodded and tugged off his shirt, tossing it to the side. He took a sharp breath as Eddie leaned in, tongue grazing his collarbone. He lifted a hand to slide it through Eddie’s curls, holding on when Eddie’s teeth pressed against his skin. He didn’t bite down, but Steve wanted him to. He wanted Eddie to bite him, draw blood, scratch him, make him hurt.

Steve swallowed, cock throbbing in his jeans. He didn’t know where the thoughts had come from, but something about the idea made him whimper. “I’ve got you.” Eddie’s breath cooled the spit on his skin, hands drifting down to his waist. “This good? Gentle enough?”

“You don’t have to be so gentle.” A tremor sat in Steve’s voice as Eddie’s metal rings trailed down his skin. “I’m okay Eddie, I’m not gonna break.”

“Baby, you sound like you’re about to cry.” Eddie nuzzled his nose against Steve’s jaw.

“I’m not going to cry, it’s just… been awhile since I was touched like this.” Steve didn’t know if he’d ever been touched like this, though. He’d been with a number of girls, but he was usually a lot more focused on them. He wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself now that the attention was on him.

“Gonna ease you back into it, Stevie.” Eddie sat back and it made something in Steve’s chest twinge. He wanted Eddie’s hands on him again. Instead, he mimicked Eddie’s position, sitting back on his heels. “I want you to show me how you touch yourself.”

“What?” Steve licked his lips as his mouth went dry, eyes widening.

“You heard me. Want you to jerk yourself off for me, show me what you like. Just like you would if you were at home.”

Steve swallowed, reaching to undo his belt. “Can I be, um, can I be honest with you, Eds?”

“Always, baby.” Eddie gripped himself through his tight jeans, drawing Steve’s eyes to the bulge of his erection.

“It’s been a while since I touched myself. I don’t- I haven’t- I try to keep myself busy these days.” Steve didn’t look at Eddie as he wiggled out of the jeans, letting them fall to the floor, leaving him sitting in just a pair of white briefs.

“Yeah?” Eddie licked his lips, staring at Steve like he was a gourmet meal. “When’s the last time you made yourself cum?”

“It’s… probably a month ago? Maybe longer. …probably longer.” Steve rested his palms against his thighs, nails pressing down against his skin. It had definitely been longer. It was hard for him to get himself in the mood anymore. Being by himself had a way of turning his brain down a dark path. But right now, with Eddie, he was safe.

“Yeah? Well, I still want you to show me. I want to watch your face as you make yourself feel good.”

“What if… what if I want you to touch me?” Steve’s eyes widened as Eddie stripped off his shirt, leaving him bare chested. His guitar pick necklace sat in the middle of his chest and Steve wanted to push it aside and mark his skin.

“You want me to touch you? Well, we’ll have to see. Can you be a good boy for me?”

Something about that made Steve choke on air, his cock throbbing as he tried to catch his breath with hot arousal blooming in his gut. “Y-yeah.” Steve cleared his throat, licking his lips. “Yeah, I can be a good boy.” He tugged at the waistband of his briefs, waiting for Eddie’s nod before he took them off, his red-flushed erection bobbing hard and heavy in front of him.

“That’s it, baby. You’re already so hard for me. Bet you’re desperate for it.” Eddie reached out, cupping Steve’s cheek. “So fucking perfect for me,” he practically purred.

Steve wanted to melt, body hot with arousal, a tinge of embarrassment tugging at the back of his mind. He felt so exposed, laid bare for Eddie to see. He sat back on his heels again and wrapped his hand around his cock, shivering at his own touch. “Ah, fuck,” he mumbled, lifting his other hand to cover his mouth. His thighs were trembling as his fingertips dug into his cheek, mouth open behind his hand as he panted. It really had been awhile, especially if he was so keyed up with barely a touch.

“Hey.” Eddie reached out and tugged at Steve’s wrist to pull his hand away from his mouth. “Come on pretty boy, let me hear those sounds.” He grinned as Steve’s hand dropped to grip the sheets instead. “Yeah, there’s a good boy.” Eddie’s smile only grew when Steve moaned, each breath sharp as he stroked his aching cock.

It felt so much better than it ever had before. Eddie’s brown eyes were heated as he stared, unashamed as he touched himself through his jeans. Steve liked the eyes on him, liked being able to hear Eddie’s choked off breaths.

“Is that how you like it? Nice and slow? Do you tease yourself, Steve?” Eddie unbuttoned his jeans, shifting forward to get into Steve’s space. “You like the foreplay, the build up, don’t you?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.” Steve thumbed at the head of his cock, spreading the beads of slick precum over the shaft. He groaned low in his throat, lips parting slightly.

“That’s it, baby.” Eddie leaned in, brushing his lips against Steve’s. He pulled back when Steve tried to deepen the kiss, grinning at the frustrated huff of air that hit his face. “Come on, need you to work for it. I’ll give you what you want, but you have to prove you’re good enough for it.”

He let out another groan. “Eddie, I’m good, I promise, I want to be good for you.” There was a desperate edge to his voice as his hand began to slow. He wanted Eddie to see that he was a good boy, he was Eddie’s good boy. What did he need to do to prove it? Had he done something wrong? His head felt… fuzzy, like his thoughts were gummed up with something.

“Hey.” Eddie tapped his cheek. “You okay? We can stop.”

“I don’t want to stop, please, I’m being good for you, right? I-I want to be good.”

Eddie reached for Steve’s free hand, grasping it between both of his. “Yeah. You’re being good. Keep touching yourself nice and easy. That’s it, Stevie.” He kissed Steve’s fingertips and pulled his hand up to his cheek which settled some of the worry in his gut.

His cock was slick with precum as he stroked, more dribbling over his knuckles with each stroke. It sounded wet and filthy and Eddie’s eyes were dark as he watched Steve. His cheek was stubbled, just a little, rough under Steve’s fingers. Steve shuddered, feeling like he could only see Eddie. He stared with wide eyes as Eddie tilted his head into the touch, pressing a delicate kiss to the inside of Steve’s wrist. And then he bit down on the thin, sensitive skin, leaving bright red indents in his wake.

The moan he got in response was loud and throaty. “Oh, you loved that. Did you like that it hurts? Do you like the idea of me leaving all these pretty marks on your body?” Eddie crawled forward, ducking his head down to mouth at Steve’s neck, teeth nipping the skin.

“I want everyone to know that I’m yours.” Steve’s eyelids fluttered shut as Eddie bit and sucked at his neck, surely leaving marks behind, hopefully dark enough to be harsh against his skin. Eddie’s long fingers wrapped around his, guiding his strokes, languid and slow. “So good, Eddie, please…”

“You say please a lot,” Eddie murmured, voice muffled by Steve’s skin, barely loud enough to hear over his heartbeat pounding in his ears. “You just want to be my good boy, is that it? Want me to see how much you want me, how much you want this.” When Steve nodded, nearly knocking their heads together, he nipped at Steve’s jaw. The sharp pain of it made him cry out, hips jerking in surprise.

“Promised I’d be good, I ha- I have to say please.” There was a distinct stinging behind his eyes and a lump in his throat, but Steve had said he wasn’t crying. He wasn’t going to cry, especially not over this, some hickeys and a pseudo-handjob. He just sucked in a deep breath, filling his lungs for what felt like the first time in ages. Clarity crashed in his brain as he got his breaths under control, and he sank into the twisted pleasure of teeth on his skin.

“So good, Steve.” Eddie’s hand squeezed around his, tightening his grip. He was steadily dripping precum now, it was wet and slippery as it seeped between their fingers, Eddie’s hand sliding over Steve’s as he tried to hold on. “Fuck, you look so hot like this, so turned on, blushing down to your pretty tits.” He kissed Steve's pec, tongue just barely grazing his skin. Eddie kept doing that, kept tasting him.

Steve closed his eyes tightly, focusing on all the warring sensations. Eddie’s hand slid over his and he fought to keep up, gasping in a breath when Eddie suddenly let go, instead lowering his hand to cup Steve’s balls. “Eddie,” he moaned, biting the inside of his cheek. “Oh my god, Eddie, oh my god…” He said it like a mantra, like a prayer. If religion had ever felt like this, maybe he’d still believe in a loving god.

“Yeah? That good?” Steve knew Eddie was grinning and forced his eyes open to see it. He nodded, letting out a groan from deep in his chest. “Look at you, so fucking beautiful for me. Such a sweet boy. “ Steve couldn’t help himself, hips jerking forward into his own hand, thighs tense as he leaned forward, trying to catch Eddie’s mouth against his. Eddie’s teeth nipped at his bottom lip, harsh and perfect. His lips would definitely be swollen after this, he was going to be marked up. It was going to be obvious that he’d been ravished.

He wished he could scream it from the rooftops, that Eddie Munson had pulled him apart bit by bit until he was a writhing, gasping mess. That he was Eddie’s, no one else’s, would never be anyone else’s.

He wanted the marks to be permanent, he thought distantly as he looked at the mark on his wrist, letting Eddie’s tongue press into his mouth. His hand worked faster over his cock, the wet sound almost embarrassing. Almost.

Eddie’s hands were gone from his body, drawing a faint whine from Steve. “It’s alright baby,” Eddie murmured, pulling back from the kiss, lips slick with spit. “Just need some relief myself, here.” He was shoving his pants down, boxers tented from his erection. There was a damp spot by the head of his cock and Steve wanted to put his mouth on it. He watched with wide eyes as the boxers were taken off, leaving Eddie totally nude in front of him.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, voice reverent. He took a moment to fully admire him, his pale skin, the spider tattooed high on his chest, the hair that trailed from his belly button down to his long, thick cock. He wanted it in his mouth, he wanted to gag on it.

He had no idea where the thoughts were coming from, just knew they made his cock pulse. “Thank you Stevie,” Eddie murmured. He held his hand up to Steve’s face. “Get my hand wet for me, will you baby?” Steve let his tongue loll out of his mouth and dragged it from the base of Eddie’s palm to the tip of his middle finger. When he got there, he wrapped his lips around the first joint, sucking gently. Eddie’s breath caught but he was grinning, pressing his fingertip down against Steve’s tongue, tracing his scar. “Look at you, look how goddamn perfect… Jesus Christ.”

Steve swallowed when Eddie pulled his hand away, watching as he began to stroke himself. “Do you… have you ever thought about me like this?”

Eddie moaned as his thumb nudged the head of his cock. “Like what? On my bed naked? Touching yourself with the prettiest pink blush? Moaning my name? Yeah, yeah, I’ve thought about all of that more than I want to admit.” He leaned back, his free hand pressing down into the mattress to hold himself up. “Thought about you laid out for me, about how beautiful you would look feeling all hot and bothered. And you know what?”

“Hm?” Steve pulled his eyes away from Eddie’s cock long enough to look up at his face, the sweaty curls that framed his dark eyes, his pink lips, the red flush blotted across his cheeks.

“I was wrong. You’re so much more beautiful than I could have ever imagined, Stevie.”

“Eddie,” Steve breathed, the warmth in his face creeping down his neck. His chest was feeling tight again, something about Eddie’s voice curling so perfectly around his feelings. “Oh god,” he whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut. His stomach clenched as he squeezed his cock, trying to fill his lungs. “I’m… can I… Eddie, please,” he begged, unable to find the words.

“You’re going to cum for me, aren’t you?” Eddie’s hand moved rapidly over his cock, his breath coming in sharp gasps as he watched Steve with dark eyes. “Fuck, baby, I bet you look so hot when you cum, wanna see it, come on, do it for me.”

Steve’s back arched as his hand moved impossibly faster, slick and wet with precum as he panted. “Eddie! Eddie, Eddie, fuck, please…” He squeezed his eyes shut as he felt his balls pull up, hips jerking desperately as he finally came. “Fuck,” he gasped, feeling it spurt against his belly, hot against his skin. His hand slowed but didn’t stop, drawing out his orgasm with each stroke coaxing another burst of cum from his cock. “Oh my god,” he breathed, panting for breath as his cock began to soften.

“Jesus, baby.” Eddie’s voice was rough as he pumped himself, eyes dark as they raked over Steve’s body. “Do you have any idea how gorgeous you are? I don’t think you get told that enough. Your body, shit… your arms, your chest, I’m the luckiest man in the world, getting to see you all disheveled and covered in your own cum.” Eddie was panting softly and Steve thought he was the beautiful one.

“Thank you,” he murmured, getting on all fours so he could lean in to kiss him. Eddie moaned against Steve’s mouth, giving him the space to slide his tongue between Eddie’s lips.

Steve swallowed all of Eddie’s noises, his legs feeling a little shaky under him, but he lifted a hand to card it through Eddie’s hair. His fingers caught on a tangle and he accidentally pulled, but the sharp moan made him think it wasn’t much of a problem. He slid his hand up towards the roots of Eddie’s hair and yanked again.

Eddie pulled away to gasp in a breath and Steve looked down just in time to see him squeeze his cock, translucent precum dribbling from the flushed head. He licked his lips, his spent cock twitching in interest. He wanted to taste Eddie so badly. “Stevie, baby,” he whispered, fucking into his fist.

“You look amazing like this,” Steve murmured back. He untangled his fingers from Eddie’s hair, sliding his hand down his cheek and shoulder, down to his chest. He let his thumb catch against Eddie’s nipple, biting his lip at the sharp gasp it earned him. “Sensitive…”

“Steve, holy shit, don’t… fuck, keep touching me!” Eddie’s back arched when Steve pressed closer, kneeling between Eddie’s spread legs. He kept one hand tangled in soft curls, the other pressing flat to Eddie’s chest. He could feel the pounding of his heart, could feel it racing against his palm. The slick sound of Eddie’s hand pulled Steve out of his fascination, though a part of him wanted to keep his hand there all day, just feel the sturdy heartbeat. Instead, he moved his hand to pinch a nipple, tugging at the bud. The answering moan filled the room. “Please, oh shit, please, I’m so fucking close, baby!”

Steve leaned in even more to kiss at Eddie’s neck, just a gentle press of lips to his skin, starting near his collarbone and traveling upwards. He could feel the way Eddie responded to every touch, the way he gasped and tensed and whined. He pressed a kiss to Eddie’s pulse point, feeling his thundering heartbeat. It fascinated him, sturdy and strong. He wanted to feel it and hear it. He nipped at the sensitive skin, a shy flash of his teeth, but it dragged a long groan from Eddie.

His back arched, pressing him closer to Steve, and he was cumming, head tilted back to expose his throat. “Steve!” he cried out, hips jerking into his hand. “Oh fuck, baby,” he gasped, his cum splashing against Steve’s thigh. “Holy shit.”

“Eddie,” Steve breathed and tugged him into a kiss. The kiss was slower than previous ones and Eddie tugged Steve closer so they were pressed chest to chest. After a few long moments of exchanging kisses, Eddie pulled away and reached for his discarded shirt. “What are you-?”

Eddie shushed him and used it to wipe Steve’s belly clean. “Before it dries and gets gross.”

“That’s gross, it’s gonna stain your shirt.” Steve didn’t fight it too much though, he liked feeling taken care of. He leaned back a little and shivered as Eddie wiped his still sensitive cock.

“I’ll find a way to live.” Eddie grinned, dragging the shirt down to Steve’s thigh. “Was that good for you? Because it was pretty great for me.”

“Yeah. Really great.” Steve smiled as Eddie kissed him again, a laugh bubbling up. He watched as Eddie wiped himself off and tossed the dirtied shirt onto the floor. “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me, baby.” Eddie shifted and laid down, grabbing Steve’s wrist to tug him down. Steve laid next to Eddie and hooked a leg over his hip, wanting to be as close as possible. Eddie didn’t seem to have any complaints, nuzzling in close. He tucked his chin against the top of Steve’s head with a soft yawn, reaching back to switch off the lamp and pull a blanket over their nude bodies.

Steve wasn’t… afraid of the dark, per se. He was wary of the dark, preferred to be able to see the shadowy corners of whatever room he was in. But cuddled up in Eddie’s arms, able to hear his heart, he felt safer than he had in a long time. Safe enough to drift off to sleep without worry or fear.

Chapter Text

Steve slipped off his sneakers as he re-entered the house with mail tucked under his arm. He frowned as he flipped through the junk and credit card offers and bills he was instructed to set aside for his parents. His fingertips froze as he came across an envelope from the Indiana Central University, the school’s seal bright against the white of the paper. In all of the chaos of the last few months, demodogs and his concussion and babysitting and Eddie, he’d nearly forgotten about college until just the other day, when he’d gotten a rejection from Perdue, something that had filled him with, well, relief. Yesterday had been another rejection, that one from a business school in Bloomington.

He’d forgotten about hours of applications and essays and the phone calls from his father.

He’d forgotten about what had been his planned escape from Hawkins, wrapped up in protecting the town that had been drowning him his whole life.

Steve’s hands shook as he set the rest of the mail on the couch before tearing the envelope open. This was the last school he’d applied for. This was the last one he had to face for now. No more anticipation. He sliced his finger against the letter in his hurry to pull it out. But he didn’t even notice, his heart clenching in his chest as he read, holding the paper close to his face as he stared hard at the words. It was an acceptance letter. He’d gotten into ICU, but he didn’t feel happy about it. He felt numb, staring at the letter without feeling much of anything. The edges of the letter crumbled under his now shaking grip.

He couldn’t leave Hawkins. It wasn’t an option, leaving Hawkins would mean leaving behind the kids and Nance and Jonathan, who he’d finally gotten to a good place with, and Hopper and Joyce, and he couldn’t… he couldn’t leave. He didn’t like to give himself too much credit, but if he hadn’t been there, Jonathan and Nancy might have been killed. The kids might have been mauled in the junkyard. Billy might have seriously hurt Lucas or Max, or they would have been in the tunnels alone.

Maybe someone else would have taken his place. But if something happened again, if he wasn’t there, he’d never forgive himself.

Steve had wanted nothing more than a ticket out of Hawkins and now he had it. And it made him feel sick and scared and he…

He couldn’t leave.

He’d already disappointed his father so many times in his life, what was a little more disappointment? One more lie?

Besides, he wasn’t fucking normal anymore. What was he going to do if he lived with a roommate? How was he supposed to explain the splitting headaches, the nightmares that left him panicked and dry heaving? The need to have a weapon near his shaking hands at all times?

His grades had been taking a sharp downturn. He’d never been an ace student or anything, but he’d been passing all his classes by a decent enough margin, but now, now it was harder to see the board in class, the ringing in his ears made him struggle to listen to lectures, his handwriting was so much worse than it had once been. Flunking out of college would be more humiliating than not going at all. People would see him for the failure that he knew he was deep down, but in Hawkins, it was like he could hide it. Hawkins had Eddie, had the kids, had his friends who seemed to give a fuck for some reason he couldn’t grasp.

Steve made a sharp, whining sound from deep in his chest, a sound he didn’t think he’d ever made before. It was painful and wounded and he needed… he had to lie, knew he had to lie even though it hurt. This pain was… it was grief of some kind, a grief like he’d never felt. He was giving up the future, wasn’t he?

It wasn’t like there would be nothing for him. But the future he’d been so sure of was slipping from his fingers. There was no such thing as a sure thing anymore, not when there were kids with powers and monsters in the walls, and girls disappearing from his pool, and, and, and-

And he needed out. Because the house was a monument to what was supposed to be. What he was supposed to be and couldn’t. The expectations he couldn’t live up to lest they trap him in his own mind, in the depth of the pain that wouldn’t end. The ringing in his ears was deafening and he couldn’t get in a deep enough breath. He couldn’t hear it, but he could feel that he was making the grief-stricken whine again, the vibrations in his chest too much on his overworked lungs.

He touched his face, but there was no wetness dragging down his cheeks like he feared. His vision wasn’t blurred with tears, he was okay. He had to be okay, he wasn’t crying, he was fine, he needed to be.

If he wasn’t fine, the lies would choke him, squeeze his windpipe closed and leave him gasping for air like his latest nightmares. He’d be found out, he’d be more of a failure because he couldn’t accept the one time he’d done something right. He hated that he knew what rage he would face, had faced before, hated that he could be honest and it would be easier. He crumpled the letter in his fist, a smear of red from his paper cut slashed across the stark white. He grabbed the envelope and shoved his feet into a pair of sneakers. He took a sharp breath in to clear his racing thoughts, fill his lungs for real.

With a second thought, he grabbed the letters from the last two days, a move that helped ease his racing heart. The words “we regret to inform you” soothed him in a twisted way. He hated the joy he took in his own failure, but it was for the best. It had to be.

Sitting in his car, the headlights illuminating the edge of the quarry, Steve stared out at the vastness above. He imagined the stars had been clear once. He didn’t remember, just knew that now they were warped and blended into each other. The moon wasn’t lighting the sky, but when he killed the ignition, the headlights shutting off, he could still see the ground.

He could see and was aware enough of the edge of the abyss, aware enough to hang back. He shoved the crumpled letters into his back pocket and began to gather stones. He collected several as large as his fists and began to make a small circle. The cold night was a backdrop to his breakdown. Or whatever this was.

Steve knelt down in front of the circle of rocks and flicked his lighter. The warmth of the flame was a shock to his frigid fingertips. He hadn’t realized how cold he was getting, but he didn’t stop to consider it. He didn’t take the time to think about the cold creeping up his bare arms and the wind sending his hair into disarray.

The flame lit some dead leaves and small sticks in his makeshift fire pit. He watched the flames lick upwards into the winter night, dancing in the wind that he couldn’t block. They were tiny, spitting sparks as they ate through the leaves and sticks, leaving faintly glowing ash in their wake. He stared, unable to pull his eyes away as he reached into his back pocket. The creases on the hastily stored papers were rough against his fingers. He clenched his fist around them before tossing the envelopes onto the open flames.

For a moment, he thought he’d smothered the fire, the envelopes just barely fitting into the circle. But then he saw the orange glow through the paper and the center of the top envelope burst into flames. Smoke invaded his nose and he coughed, turning his head away. He sniffled, something that only succeeded in making him inhale more smoke. It reminded him of struggling to breathe, adrenaline and panic suffocating him as the demogorgon burned in the Byers’ living room. Of choking on spores and having a clogged nose in the tunnel as the vines flailed and burned.

He swore softly and shuffled back, his knees scuffing against the stony ground. The envelopes were engulfed now, giving off a warm light, the flames larger than they had been with just the leaves. He sat and watched as sparks popped, floating up towards the endless sky. He imagined the night was beautiful, but he could only imagine. The orange sparks grew blurrier as they rose and he watched until they disappeared.

With a deep breath, he tossed the rejection letters into the blaze. He shifted closer to feel the warmth, holding out his hands to try and bring feeling back to his fingers. He gazed past the small fire, watching the shadows dance on the ground. If he listened, he could hear trees rustle, he could hear rocks falling into the quarry with each gust of wind. He could hear… footsteps.

Without thinking, Steve threw the letter from IOU into the fire as well. He watched as the edges charred, the burn spreading inwards. He watched as his future lit up in flames and… well. It wasn’t his future. Not anymore. It was a future that could have been. A future he was going to reject. He wasn’t sure he regretted it, but… he didn’t think he… didn’t regret it either?

“Steve?”

He turned, looking up at a tall figure just behind him. “Eddie.” He rubbed at his eyes and blinked a few times. “Eddie, hey. What… what are you doing here?”

“It’s the new moon.” Eddie gestured towards the sky. “I come here to stargaze when the moon isn’t out. Better for seeing the stars.” He sat down on the ground, bundled up in an oversized jacket. “What are you doing here? What’s with the bonfire?”

Steve looked down at their legs, where their knees knocked together. “I, um, I got letters from the schools I applied to.” He leaned closer to Eddie, the papers burned beyond recognition now.

“And…? Did you get in?” Steve shook his head silently. He didn’t want to lie to Eddie, but…

“No. I didn’t.”

“Oh baby.” Eddie wrapped his arm around Steve’s shoulders, tugging him in close. “Come here, I’ve got you.”

Steve laughed, but it was a hollow sound. Eddie was warm, he was sturdy. He shifted close to bury himself in Eddie’s side, curling up so his cheek pressed into his ribs. It was his favorite place to put his head, even if he couldn’t feel or hear Eddie’s heart through the thick jacket. “I’m… I’m not sad. I think I’m supposed to be.”

“You don’t have to be sad. I mean, if you’re not sad, then… you just aren’t.” Eddie shrugged, rubbing his hand up and down Steve’s bicep. “I’m proud of you.”

“...proud? But I didn’t… there’s nothing for you to be proud of, Eddie.” Steve could hear his own voice echoing in his ears and it sounded wrong. His chest hurt. He wanted to hear Eddie’s heart pound, wanted to hear it over his own voice and thoughts, needed it like he needed reassurance that he was solid and sitting there and this wasn’t some dream that was going to start warping around him.

“There’s so much for me to be proud of, Stevie. Look, I… I’m probably not going to graduate this year.” Steve felt Eddie look up, but he didn’t lift his head, instead nuzzling his cheek against Eddie’s chest. That knocked him back to reality, or something close to it.

“I thought ‘85 was-”

“My year? Yeah, me too. It was supposed to be. Talked to Ms. Kelley last week and she said since I failed a few midterms, I’d have to seriously turn it around. That’s not going to happen. I try, Steve, I really fucking try, and it’s not enough. It’s never enough.” His voice took on a rough edge.

Steve sat up, careful not to dislodge himself from Eddie’s side. There were a few long moments of quiet and when Eddie looked at Steve, the dying flames reflected off tear tracks.

“Eddie.” Steve reached up to wipe away the tears, mouth twisted into a frown. “This shit is hard, it’s going to be okay. I’m proud of you too, you know.”

“Yeah?” Eddie sniffled softly. “What are you proud of me for?”

“For trying.” Steve kept wiping away tears as Eddie cried, watching them fall from his eyes with an odd sort of fascination. Eddie was so… so open with his emotions in a way Steve couldn’t ever hope to be. He was beautiful. He was ethereal, his long hair catching the light, his eyes big and watery and shiny. “You… you put so much of yourself into everything, Eddie. And you're so wild and passionate and incredible. It’s not your fault that it doesn't always translate into math and science and whatever… whatever bullshit they want from you. You’re gonna graduate, Eddie, even if it’s not in spring with me, you’re going to.”

Eddie let out a strangled little sob, squeezing his eyes shut. “Fucking hell. How are you real, Steve Harrington?” The way he said Steve’s name made him… made him feel alive, alive in a way that had felt so distant. “I’m- fuck, Stevie. You’re pretty incredible, you know that?”

“I’m nothing special.” Steve shifted so he could kneel and lean in, kissing Eddie’s cheeks. He could taste the sharp salt of his tears and a part of him wondered if he could absorb some of the essence that made Eddie so… Eddie. If maybe he could become more like him, could be more open and honest in the way his boyfriend was. “I’m just lucky to have you.”

“God, I’m… you were upset.” Eddie’s voice lilted into a whine as he tipped his head forward. “You came out here because of those letters and I’m talking about how I’m not graduating and-”

“It’s okay. I mean, I’ll graduate high school for the both of us, right?”

Eddie snorted. “Uh huh, let me know if that works out.” He let out a big sigh, his whole body seeming to collapse with it. “What are you going to do now? You told me that you wanted to see what was beyond Hawkins, beyond Indiana. Where are you going to go?”

“I’m gonna stay here.” Steve held Eddie close and held the back of his head to keep it in place. He wasn’t going to be able to keep it together if Eddie looked at him. “I’ll just be here. In Hawkins, with you. At least for now. That mall is supposed to be open by summer, I guess I’ll just see what opens there, find a job, hang around, you know?” He scratched the back of his neck. “Not sure how it’s going to open by summer, I swear they just started construction. But… I don’t know, maybe I can get a job at some clothing store.”

“With your sense of style?” Eddie’s laugh was a balm for Steve’s tired mind. “Baby, you’d have half of Hawkins in shirts like this.” He reached to tug at the collar of Steve’s shirt.

“What’s wrong with my shirt?” It was one of his polos with stripes around his middle and chest. “There’s nothing wrong with this!”

“You look so stiff in it sometimes. Like, you look hot, but it looks like you’re coming home from some boring office job that makes you hate your life.” Eddie wiggled out of Steve’s arms to laugh, using his hold on the collar to yank him forward. “You’re a cutie, but you could stand to relax. Gotta get you out of this shirt…” Before he could say anything to defend himself, Eddie was pressing a slow, easy kiss to his lips.

Tension bled from Steve. Things couldn’t be so bad if he had Eddie. If Eddie wanted him, he must be worth something. His hands cupped Eddie’s cheeks, an aborted noise slipping from him when Eddie jerked away. “Hm?”

“Fuck, your hands are freezing!” Eddie gave an exaggerated shiver. “Look at that, your fire went out. Why don’t we take this party back to the trailer?”

“Party? I think we’d need at least one other person for that.”

Eddie snorted and tapped Steve’s nose. “Yeah, okay. I don’t plan on sharing you with anybody else, baby. Maybe this isn’t a party.” He carefully wiggled his way out of Steve’s hold.

Steve wanted to protest, but he didn’t. He got up and brushed himself off, sighing as he stomped out the last few glowing embers. “I don’t want to tell my dad.” His voice was hardly louder than a whisper in the dark night. “I’m already a disappointment, I’m just proving him right about everything he’s ever said about me.”

Eddie’s arms wound around his waist. “Fuck what your dad says. You aren’t a disappointment. Not to me, not to the people who matter, who actually show up for you when you need it.”

Steve’s eyes prickled as he stared out into the quarry, leaning back into the comfortable hold. He took a deep breath and blinked away the pain in his eyes, tilting his head back against Eddie’s shoulder. “…okay.” He let himself be led to the van, let Eddie guide him away from the ashes of a future that wouldn’t come.

Chapter Text

Steve laughed as he leaned closer to Jeff to peer at his notes, leg stretched out to hook his ankle with Eddie’s. He cleared his throat and read off the paper that was nudged in his direction, squinting at the wiggly letters. “Beware travelers! Ahead lies a beast beyond all…” He frowned, picking up the paper to hold it closer to his face. “Beyond all perception! If you journey onwards, you surely will perish!”

“Spooky,” Becca muttered, rubbing her d8 and d10 between her palms. “Can I make a perception check on this guy?”

“Sure. Roll for it.” Jeff shuffled his papers, looking for something.

She dropped the dice in her hands and reached for another, letting it roll across the table in front of her. “14?”

“He definitely believes that you’ll die if you keep going. He’s been overseeing these parts longer than any of you have been alive. Except for Elric. Elric is old as hell.”

Eddie clicked his tongue. “Old as hell but he’s still got it!”

“You’ve crit failed two charisma rolls in a row.”

Steve covered his mouth to hide a laugh. “He got a nat 20 with me!”

Eddie’s jaw dropped and he stared at Steve for a moment. “Steve, marry me. Like right now, I need you to be my husband.”

Steve shrunk down in his seat, laughing as he covered his face. “Shut up, Eds,” he whined, heat rushing to his cheeks. That word echoed in his head, though. Husband. Husband, the idea of being Eddie’s husband. It made him feel giddy, bubbly joy sitting in his chest as he gazed at Eddie between his fingers.

“Can you stop reminding the rest of us that we’re chronically single?” Gareth’s voice was teasing as he threw a die at Eddie. “We get it! You got over your pining.”

“You could too,” Eddie muttered, just loud enough for Steve to hear.

“What?”

“What?” Eddie tossed the die back at Gareth. “I say we press on! We can take out whatever Jeff the Mighty throws our way.” Steve watched as Eddie rolled his d20 between his fingers, letting it clink softly against his rings. His eyes trailed the movement, the distant urge to wrap his lips around Eddie’s fingers sitting in his mind.

He was pulled from the thoughts by the doorbell ringing, making his head snap up. “Hm. Uh, you guys keep playing, I’ll go see who it is.” He got up from the dining room table, leaning to kiss Eddie’s cheek before making his way to the front door. It was getting late, the sky overcast outside and wind knocking branches against the windows. He had the urge to run upstairs for his nail bat, but he had company, he had his boyfriend over. He couldn’t let them know the depths of his paranoia.

Besides, if there really was a threat, he doubted it would wait for him to run upstairs and come back down.

He switched on the living room lights, tense as he reached the front door. He cracked it open, a breath rushing out of him when he saw it was Ms. Henderson with Dustin. “Ms. Henderson! Hi, what can I do for you?”

“Steve, honey, hi. I need to ask a favor. The hospital is short staffed and they called me in to cover for the night shift. Would Dusty be able to spend the night here? I would hate to leave him home alone, he gets these nightmares.”

“Mom!”

Steve laughed at Dustin’s embarrassed glare. “I’ve got some friends over, but yeah, of course I can keep an eye on him. I’ll even be nice and feed him breakfast in the morning.” Steve reached out to adjust Dustin’s cap where the wind was almost knocking it off his head, grinning when the glare was redirected at him.

“Oh, you’re a lifesaver, thank you dear.” Ms. Henderson gathered Dustin in a tight hug and Steve looked away, knowing Dustin would hug back just as tightly, only if no one was looking. “I’ll be by in the morning to pick him up.”

“Don’t worry about being too early, I’m sure I can keep him entertained!” Steve waved as she made her way down the driveway and closed the door, checking the locks.

“I don’t get nightmares,” Dustin insisted, fidgeting with the strap of his backpack as he avoided meeting Steve’s eyes.

“Yes you do.” Steve cocked a hip and looked down at Dustin. “And so do I. And so does everyone else in our little… situational group.” He gestured in a way that made Dustin laugh. “Waking up to an empty house when you can’t breathe… it sucks, okay? I’d rather keep an eye on you here, give you space where the shadows are just that, shadows, and not some flower-faced monster about to eat you.” He clapped his hands. “Now! How would you like to meet my geeky friends?”

Dustin leaned to the side to try and peer around Steve. “You really have nerdy friends?”

“My soft spot for dorks didn’t start with you and your friends, Henderson, don’t get cocky.” Steve grinned, leading Dustin into the dining room. “Gentlemen, Becca, we have a guest. This is Dustin, one of the kids who saw me get my face caved in by Hargrove!”

Steve cringed a little when he saw Dustin look away. Okay, they weren’t at the point where they could joke about it, good to know. He cleared his throat, lifting his fist to his mouth.

Becca was the first to speak up, a grin on her face. “Shit, you weren’t kidding about the brats, were you Harrington?”

“Why would I lie about driving a bunch of middle schoolers around?” Steve grabbed another chair for Dustin, tucking it between Jeff and his empty chair. “Dustin, put your bag down, we’re ordering pizza in a little while, okay?”

“What the hell, Steve?”

“What?” Steve blinked, looking at Dustin.

“You’ve had cool friends this whole time!”

“I literally talk about them to you. I told you I have friends who play your nerd game.” He glanced back at Eddie, who had a particularly evil looking grin. “Oh no.”

“So you’re the famous Henderson that Stevie won’t shut up about!” He got up, pushing his chair back with a flourish.

“Eddie-“

“Shh. The nerds are speaking.” Eddie draped himself against Steve’s side, grinning at Dustin. “Did you know that Steve has played with us before?”

“What?” It was an accusatory shriek and Steve groaned, leaning into his boyfriend’s side. “You always make fun of us for playing!”

Steve covered his face. “I… okay, yes, but it’s different!”

“No it’s not,” Gareth piped up.

“Thank you peanut gallery,” Steve grumbled. Maybe the floor would open up and drop him into one of those tunnels. He thought he might prefer that to this. “Dustin, this is Eddie, Becca, Jeff, Gareth, and Grant. Guys, this is Dustin Henderson. He’s a menace but if you’re not nice to him, I’ll fight you.”

“Ooh, scary.” Jeff snickered. “You’ve got such a good record with fights.”

“…hey.”

Eddie snickered and knocked the side of his head against Steve’s. “I’ll teach you to throw a punch one of these days, big boy.”

Steve groaned as his cheeks flushed pink. “Everyone stop being mean to me for 30 seconds, my god. Dustin, you sit next to Jeff, you can read the NPP-“

“NPC,” Eddie corrected.

“NPC lines.” Steve nodded. “I’ll sit next to Eddie and steal his dice when he isn’t looking.”

“Hey!”

“You had the chance to be nice to me.” Steve sat down, grabbing his abandoned can of Tab. “If you had been nice to me in front of the kid, I wouldn’t be stealing your dice, now would I?”

Eddie pouted and sat down next to him, stretching out his leg to press their thighs together. “I’m gonna steal your kid, Harrington. He’s gonna join Hellfire next year and like me way better.”

Dustin peered at Jeff’s DM notes, kneeling on his chair. “Aren’t you a senior?” he asked, glancing over at Eddie.

Eddie cringed. “Yup. Will be again next year.”

“It’s gonna be your year, man.” Gareth held out his fist to Eddie, who sighed, but bumped their fists together.

“It better be.” He ran a hand down his face before perking himself up. “Anyway! Not the point here. I usually DM longer campaigns, but Jeff is running a one shot he wrote! We’ve just entered the lair of the basilisk.”

“Cool.” Dustin looked at Jeff’s DM notes and Steve couldn’t stop the way he was smiling. He tangled his fingers with Eddie’s under the table as Jeff described the lair. He reached out for his soda with his other hand, getting comfortable to listen to the story they wove.

Later, as he was bringing pizzas into the kitchen, he felt arms bracketing his waist and pinning him up against the counter. “It’s too bad your kid showed up,” Eddie murmured, breath hot against Steve’s neck. “Was hoping to get some alone time with you after the others leave.”

Steve breathed in sharply as Eddie pressed his hips forward against the curve of his ass. “Hey, hey! Not in the kitchen!” He pressed himself back into the hold anyway, feeling a spark of heat low in his gut. “Maybe later. If we’re quiet…”

“Really?” Steve could feel the way Eddie’s mouth curved into a smile.

“Maybe! We’ll see. …probably not, but maybe in the morning after his mom picks him up?”

“I wouldn’t mind a nice, long morning in bed with you.” Eddie pressed his lips to Steve’s neck, trailing them down towards his collarbone. “Pin you down and watch you writhe against the sheets for me, begging me because you can’t take the teasing…”

Steve let out a sharp noise as Eddie’s long fingers wrapped around his hips. “Please,” he breathed. He jumped when a throat cleared from the doorway, turning to see Gareth with a raised eyebrow. “Hey.”

“So are you going to fuck in front of the pizza or can I come in and get some?”

“We’re still deciding, give us 10 minutes.” Eddie grinned, but yelped when Steve elbowed him and wiggled out of his arms. “Ow, hey!”

“Don’t seduce me in front of Gareth! He’s a child.”

“I’m 16!”

“Exactly. Practically a baby.”

“You’re a year older than me.”

“Year and a half! Practically a lifetime. Eat the damn pizza I ordered.” Steve patted his arm and scooted around him, taking a second to cool off, let the heat in his gut fizzle out.

Dustin was practically chattering Jeff’s ear off about a character he was making with Mike, but before Steve could cut in, Jeff laughed loudly and nodded. “No, dude, a little imbalance can be fun! Besides, it’s way more fun to kick ass when you’ve got an unexpected skill. No one sees the dwarf monk coming.”

“Dwarves can’t be monks.”

“That’s why it’s fun!” Jeff grinned. “Eddie’s not much of a rules lawyer. He likes when we bend the rules, especially when he gets to use it against us. He’s a mean motherfucker about it.”

“Hey, watch the language.” Steve swatted at Jeff’s head with a magazine. “There’s a kid here.”

“I’m almost 14!”

“Almost.” Steve used the magazine to point at Dustin with a grin. “I’m in charge, and I’m telling you both to watch the language.”

Becca leaned against him to stage whisper. “I’m older than you.”

“You’re in my house!” Steve tossed the magazine onto the coffee table. “Go and get some pizza, get out of my hair.” He waved them into the kitchen, unable to stop smiling. His house hadn’t felt alive like this in a long time. Even his parties had always had a hollow note to them, however small they had usually been. He’d only ever thrown one rager, as a freshman, and the cleanup had been a bitch.

He got everyone herded to get some pizza before sitting down on the abandoned couch with a quiet laugh. It was a little surprising that none of the kids had crossed paths with his friends until now. He hadn’t expected it to go poorly, but he was pleasantly surprised that it was going so well. Of course, Eddie loved to go on and on about how the future of Hellfire was in the hands of the other members, especially Gareth since they hadn’t been able to recruit any freshman. But Steve was confident they’d have at least four new members next year. If Dustin got along with them, it was no question that the others would too.

“Hey babydoll.” Eddie flopped down next to him, a slice of greasy pizza on one of his mother’s china plates.

Steve snuggled in close, slotting into Eddie’s side like he belonged there, a thought that made him smile. “Hey. Dustin and Jeff are already getting on really well.”

“Oh my god, that kid is such a nerd.” Eddie beamed as he took a bite of pizza. “He’s perfect, I can’t believe you’ve been hiding him from me!”

Steve shouldn’t have found the way he spoke around food so charming, knew he wouldn’t find it charming on anyone else. Eddie was just special in so many ways. “I haven’t been hiding anything, you two just managed to avoid each other until now.” He nudged Eddie. “But now you’ve met him, and yes, the rest of his friends are exactly as nerdy as him. Except for Max, she’d rip out my throat if I called her a nerd and lumped her in with literally all her friends.”

Eddie snorted as the others began to make their way in and sit. Gareth shoved past Grant to claim the last spot on the couch next to Steve, sticking out his tongue with a grin. “I called it!”

Grant rolled his eyes and sat with Becca on the loveseat. “You’re like an obnoxious dog.”

“A pomeranian,” Eddie stressed, making Steve snort.

“Rude.”

“Pomeranians have great fur, dude.” Steve ruffled his hair and let out a loud, sharp laugh at the glare it earned him. “It’s a little bit of a compliment, Eddie was being so, so nice to you.”

“Mhm.” Gareth picked pepperoni off his pizza, eating them individually. “So, you’ve got a girl in your friend group? We’ve got one too.” He pointed at Becca with a little grin.

Becca sighed. “Oh god, I need a girlfriend.”

“Like… as a friend or as a date?”

“I’ll take either.”

Dustin watched the interaction with an odd expression from his spot on the floor, eyes falling on Becca for a long moment. Steve didn’t know what he was thinking. He usually didn’t. “Um, two. Max and Jane. But Jane is homeschooled and doesn’t like going out much. Max is pretty cool, she’s really good at Dig Dug and skateboarding. She’s uh… she’s dating Lucas.” He made a face.

“Come on dude, we’ve talked about the jealousy.” Steve reached out a leg to poke Dustin’s knee with his foot. “And she’s really not that good at skateboarding. She’s just the only person in Hawkins who can do it at all.”

Dustin frowned and scooted out of foot poking range. “I’m not jealous of Lucas, we’ve talked about this, Steve.”

“Look, there are plenty of girls who are gonna love your dorky charm, you’ve just gotta stick it out until everyone gets over themselves. I mean, it took me a while, but I got there!”

“Charm, huh?” Dustin smirked and Steve knew that wasn’t a good sign.

“Hey. Hey, don’t do it!” Steve pointed at him. Dustin raised his eyebrows in challenge and Steve leaned forward. “Don’t do it, Henderson.”

“Do what?” Gareth asked.

Dustin took that as a cue and purred, making Steve cringe. “Oh god, I hate it when you do that!”

“That’s what makes it so fun!”

Eddie cackled and Steve was about to fall into his side, if only to shove him, but the lights flicked off for a moment before flicking back on. A lamp behind the couch was flickering on and off. He felt himself freeze, a chill running up his spine. “Shit.” Eddie looked over at him curiously, but Steve could feel his chest getting tight. It was back, how was it back? El closed the portal, Hopper said so, it was supposed to be over. “Henderson-”

“On it.” Dustin had abandoned his plate and was digging through his bag. Steve watched him closely as he pulled out his walkie and fiddled with the channels. There was already chaos coming through the speaker. “This is Dustin, El and Will, are you there? Over.”

“I am here.” El’s stilted voice made some of the tension leave his shoulders, made it so Steve could breathe a little easier.

“The power went out for a second here and one of the lights is flickering. Over.”

“It went out for a second here too. If it’s everywhere- Erica, get out!” Lucas. That was three of the kids accounted for. Steve’s fingers twitched, the urge to get up and run to his room sitting heavy in his chest. His bat was upstairs, that was so stupid of him. What did he think would happen if something attacked while he was downstairs? If a monster came out of the pool again, if demodogs broke down the door? The bat was only helpful if he was in his bedroom, and he spent at least a night a week on the couch downstairs. He needed another one, he’d have to go to Melvald’s, he could definitely get nails from there, he might have a baseball bat somewhere in the garage from when he’d played as a kid.

“Will, come in!” Dustin’s voice was laced with frustration, yanking Steve out of his thoughts. He barely registered the confused whispers of Becca and Gareth or the hand Eddie laid on his thigh. “Over.”

“I’m here, I’m here! I’m pretty sure it’s just the wind, the power has been sketchy all day. But nothing has happened. Um. Over.” Will sounded nervous, Steve had the urge to drive over and check on him personally, but that was stupid. He didn’t need to check on all of the kids, that was ridiculous. He just drove them to the arcade sometimes.

Steve got up, ignoring all the glances in his direction as he pushed the curtains open. He stared outside, scanning the road and adjacent yards. He didn’t see anything but a few lit porch lights. A dog barked in the distance and he felt his fingers twitch again.

“Mike, Max, can you confirm? Come in. Over.” Dustin rocked in place, grip on the walkie making his knuckles turn white. Steve crossed the room and sat down on the floor next to him, resting a hand on his back. Some of the tension eased and he leaned to press against Steve, curling up slightly. He wondered if this was what it felt like to have a little brother.

“I’m fine, nerds.” There was a little bit of tension in Max’s voice that betrayed her. “What’s got you all freaked out, anyway?”

There was a beat of quiet before Lucas chimed in. “You’re supposed to say over. You remembered what happened in November? The lights are a sign that it’s happening. But it’s probably a false alarm. Over.”

“God, you’re all such morons. I’m fine. Over.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm on the last word.

“That’s five,” Steve mumbled, drumming his fingers on his knee. After another moment of empty static, he grabbed the walkie from Dustin and ignored his protests. “Wheeler, can you just check in?”

Dustin grabbed it back, snapping a quick “Over” into it. He glared at Steve. “Walkies talkies are for use by party members only!”

“I’ll leave you alone as soon as Wheeler checks in, okay? You shits have imprinted on me or whatever. I feel better when I know you’re all safe.” He flicked the brim of Dustin’s hat.

“I’m here, I’m here.” Mike sounded annoyed. “It’s fine here, over.”

“Mike!” Will sounded relieved. “Good, we were getting worried. You weren’t checking in and I- and we thought… I’m glad you’re safe. Over.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay, Will.” Steve had to resist the urge to roll his eyes at the way Mike’s voice got gentle as soon as he heard Will. “Over.”

Dustin nodded, pressing down on the talk button. “Good. See you all on Monday, over and out.” He curled up tighter into Steve’s side. “They’re all safe.”

Steve nodded and held him tight. “Yeah, they’re all fine. It’s just the wind.” He said it to reassure himself as much as Dustin.

“What was… any of that?” Grant frowned and Steve realized they were being watched.

“Oh, um.” Shit, he didn’t totally remember the cover story. “Remember when uh, when Will Byers went missing…?”

Dustin rolled his eyes, being way too sassy for someone who was practically cuddling up to him. “When Will went missing, that was when the power was being all weird all over town. So… so we check in with each other when the power is weird. Just to be sure.”

Gareth frowned. “I don’t think the power had anything to do with your friend going missing. I mean, he got lost in the woods, right?”

Dustin clenched his jaw and Steve squeezed his shoulder, doing his best to be reassuring. “It’s a trauma thing.” He bit back the urge to say something about how the power and lights had everything to do with Will’s disappearance, with the monsters on the other side.

“A trauma thing, yeah,” Dustin grumbled. He rolled his eyes and moved away from his spot by Steve. “Because we’re just a bunch of dumb kids with dumb trauma.”

“Hey, come on man. Trauma isn’t dumb.” Eddie leaned forward and watched as Dustin grabbed his plate of half eaten pizza. “I mean, come on, I’m just oozing with trauma.”

Gareth made a face and kicked at Eddie. “Don’t say oozing.”

“It’s my trauma, I get to say oozing if I want to.” He grinned and shoved at Gareth. The sight made Steve’s racing heart calm a little. “Sometimes you get these fears that are rational because of what you’ve been through, but they seem irrational to everyone else because they don’t understand. I can’t stand the sound of slamming doors. For years, I’d start crying over doors closing just a little too hard. It’s the sound I associated with my dad coming home drunk. But I got bullied for it because people didn’t understand, they just saw an easy target. If the power going out scares you, it’s not stupid.”

“Oh.” Dustin nodded slowly, tearing his pizza crust into little pieces. “Um… okay. Thank you.”

“Being scared isn’t something to be ashamed of!” Eddie grinned. “I am… the world’s biggest coward. I’m never going to do anything important or save lives or whatever, but there’s nothing wrong with that.” He reached out to pull Steve back onto the couch.

“You’ll have your adventures from behind your DM screen.” Steve kept an eye on Dustin.

“Exactly. Speaking of!” Eddie clapped his hands. “We still have a treasure to find because apparently the basilisk was a red herring.”

Jeff chuckled, smirking as he stretched out his legs. “That’s the conclusion I wanted you to come to, at least.”

Eddie gasped. “Oh, you’re hiding something!” He draped an arm over Steve’s shoulders. “Let’s hurry it up here so we can get back to it!”

Steve laid his head against Eddie’s shoulder as his panic began to wane. He could smell Eddie’s body wash, something like sandalwood, comforting and familiar. He was safe. Nothing was coming out of the walls and Eddie was here. His friends were here. Dustin was here.

Safe felt like a foreign concept to him anymore, but he settled into the feeling, settled into Eddie’s side.

Chapter Text

It hadn’t gone well, telling his parents that he wasn’t going to college. He’d been lucky, instead of a vacation, they were in New York for business this time, there was no chance of them actually coming home to shout at him. Steve had stood in the kitchen, trembling like a child as he was chewed out over the phone. Reminded how worthless he was. How much of a disappointment he was. And no matter how much Eddie reassured him otherwise, well. Maybe Eddie was just wrong about him.

When his mother had come on the line, she’d all but waxed poetic about the hope she’d had for him, that she’d wanted him to be better than they’d expected him to be. His throat had felt clogged when she said that. That they expected him to be a failure, like he was doomed from birth. His voice had been strained as he whispered “je suis désolé, mére.” He’d been scolded for speaking French with such poor pronunciation, and when she passed the phone back to his father, he was scolded again for speaking French at all.

He felt small. The pressure behind his eyes was painful and he choked on an apology. His father got angrier as he chewed Steve out for behaving like a child, sounding on the verge of tears like that, showing too much. And Steve was grateful they weren’t home. If he was in the kitchen, Steve wouldn’t be able to grit his teeth against the urge to break. He wouldn’t be able to drop his head against the counter after hanging up, hard enough that he saw sparks behind his eyelids. He would’ve been told off for acting like a toddler when he kicked the side of the counter, if only to get some of the sad, angry, embarrassed energy out. But he didn’t cry, that’s what was important.

That brought him to today, sitting in the passenger seat of Eddie’s van in the parking lot of the Starcourt Mall after school. His dad was cutting him off. Steve had some of his own money from the past two summers in the bank, an account that would officially become his in a month, the ties to his father severed. He had a little bit of money from the government just sitting until he was 18, set aside to keep him silent. Not that he’d ever want to talk about what happened.

He hadn’t told anyone that he was being cut off, that his choice was to get a job or starve. He didn’t need anyone else to know. It was embarrassing and he didn’t want to whine about it. That wasn’t going to solve anything, it would just make him look weak. And he wasn’t weak.

So he needed a job. Being a lifeguard would hardly be enough to pay for gas and food, god forbid he have any kind of emergency. Something Hawkins had become increasingly prone to. His resume, clutched in his hands against his khaki pants, felt depressingly empty, even after Dustin had helped him put it together with bits of input from Gareth and Grant. It was at least better than Eddie, who doesn’t even have one.

Eddie reached out and rubbed his hand along Steve’s thigh. “Ready to go get interviewed within an inch of our lives?”

That had Steve smiling. He looked around to make sure the empty parking lot really was empty before leaning in to kiss Eddie on the lips. “Yeah. Ready as I can be.”

He hopped out of the van and looked around again. The parking lot was freshly paved and there were areas of the mall tarped off for last minute renovations, he assumed. A truck with a cat logo backed up to a shipping bay around the side of the just completed building. Hawkins had never had something like this, the only mall Steve had ever been to was a few towns over, where his mother had taken him once when he was a toddler to get pictures with Santa.

Eddie took the lead and Steve wanted to pull him into the back of the van and just kiss him for a while. His long neck was exposed with his hair tugged into a neat bun, he was wearing one of Steve’s polos and his tight black jeans. He looked like a wet dream come to life.

Before Steve could give in to the urge to lick up Eddie’s throat to his mouth, to drag him back to the van, they were stepping into the mall and the chill of the powerful air conditioning. A large sign greeted them, boasting open interviews with a list of stores under it. “Where should we start, Stevie?”

Steve hummed, taking a moment to squint at the names. There were a bunch and thankfully, the sign had pretty big print “Looks like they’ve got a music store.” He tapped one of the logos. “That might be a good fit.” He could imagine Eddie behind the register, giving recommendations. He’d gotten Steve to listen to a lot more metal than he’d ever expected to.

Though Steve had definitely gotten Eddie to listen to more Springsteen and even the occasional Journey track, too.

Eddie grinned. “Oh, that’s the dream. Maybe they’ve got an employee discount. They’ll probably have better selection than the shop downtown, which gets like, a shipment every other month and nothing metal!”

“I know, Eds, you tell me every week after you browse for an hour without finding anything.”

“I have high expectations!”

“I know!” Steve laughed. “I mean, I’ll check out the Gap, maybe see who’s hiring in the food court. I don’t know if I’m… you know, good enough for any of this. I’m about to graduate high school and I have no prospects.” He wasn’t sure he was really qualified for anything. He could see himself fucking up basically any job if he thought about it long enough. He didn’t know if he even had a dream career. He’d always thought he’d end up working for his father, but now that it was completely off the table, he realized he’d never had all that many prospects for beyond high school. God knew he’d end up dead at the claws of a demogorgon or demodog anyway.

“You’re the perfect hire for the mall, then!” At Steve’s unimpressed stare, Eddie cleared his throat. “What I mean is that anyone who doesn’t hire you is stupid.”

“I guess I can work with that.” Steve covered his mouth to try and keep himself from giggling like a teenage girl. The gentle jab to his side from Eddie didn’t help. “Knock it off!”

“You’re just so damn cute when you laugh like that!” Eddie grinned and linked their arms together, pulling him down the too chilly corridors. It felt empty and eerie, but Eddie’s exuberance made it feel a little warmer, like it could be full of life. There were a few people milling around, but Steve only had eyes for Eddie.

He took a moment to take in the bright lights and white floors, the neon everywhere. It would be a nightmare if he had a headache, but he thought he’d be able to push through it. It was almost overwhelming, there was nothing like it in Hawkins. Even the movie theater seemed a lot more extravagant than The Hawk Theater downtown. More modern, at least.

Eddie patted Steve’s back between his shoulder blades and offered a bright grin. “Here’s the tape shop. Right across from the food court too, huh?” He grinned, putting his hands on his hips. “Wish me luck, Stevie!”

“Uh, break a leg?” Steve laughed as Eddie patted his head, careful not to mess up his hair.

“You do the same.” Eddie winked and headed into the store, a sign over the entrance declaring it “West Coast Records”.

Steve hesitated a moment before continuing towards the food court. He lifted a hand when he saw a familiar face coming his direction. “Robin! Hi!”

“Hey.” She was carrying a bundle of clothing under her arm, all the fabric navy blue and white, but he couldn’t make out any details. “Are you here for open interviews too?”

“Yeah, I need a job for at least the summer, and this seems to be my best bet…”

Robin nodded. “Well, they’re hiring on the spot over at the ice cream place. We could be coworkers!” There was something about her smile that felt off putting, like she was trying to trick him into something, but maybe he was paranoid.

“I’ll definitely go over then. It’ll be nice to work somewhere cold when it’s in the 90s, right?”

“Hopefully.” Robin gave him a mock salute. “I’ve gotta get home and study for my finals, but maybe I’ll see you at work!”

“Maybe!” Steve waved as she walked away, looking in the direction she’d come. He squinted at the sign over a smaller shop, blue with an anchor logo. “Scoops Ahoy,” he murmured to himself. It couldn’t be the worst place to work, it was ice cream!

A rush of cold air hit him in the face as he stepped into the empty shop. He took a moment to look around at the maritime decor, trying to picture himself behind the counter. It was an odd little shop, it felt almost out of place in the mall. But he liked ice cream well enough on the occasions where he felt like a little treat wasn’t the end of the world.

“Ahoy there!” A tall, chipper looking man came out from a back room. “Are you here for the interviews?”

Steve squared his shoulders and straightened his back. “I am.” He held out a copy of his resume.

Twenty minutes later, he found himself clutching a bundle of navy blue clothes and a terrible little hat that was part of the uniform. His first day would be the day after graduation, and a few days before that he’d have to come in for training. He didn’t imagine it could be all that bad, scooping ice cream. He hoped it wouldn’t be that bad, anyway.

Eddie came barreling out of the record shop, slamming into Steve with a loud laugh. “I got the job!”

“You did?” Steve grinned. “Hey, congratulations!” He let himself be held, nuzzling his cheek against Eddie’s shoulder. “That’s awesome.” He didn’t pout when Eddie pulled away, but he felt like he could have. “I uh, I got a job too.”

“Baby!” Eddie’s squeal was louder than it should have been in public, but luck seemed to be on their side, no one around to overhear. He cleared his throat and lowered his voice. “Stevie, that’s incredible. Where?”

Steve jerked his head towards Scoops Ahoy behind him. “The ice cream place over there. I’m sure the kids are going to be demanding my discount before I know it.”

“Oh, you know it.” Eddie nudged him with a laugh. “You don’t suppose you’d be able to hook up a certain someone with the occasional scoop?”

“I might be able to. The certain someone is Gareth, right?”

Eddie pouted and let out a huge, melodramatic sigh. “You are the meanest person in the whole entire world, you know that?” He reached around Steve to snatch away the little hat. “Oh, well hello there, what is this little accessory?”

Steve blindly tried to grab it back, but Eddie was already pulling the hat onto his own head. And damn it, it was fucking cute on him. “Give that back, that’s part of the uniform.”

“Uniform, yeah? Mm, you know what they say about a man in uniform. I think I’m going to have to see you try that on, make sure you’re fully ship shape, sailor.” His voice lowered to a near purr, which sent a shiver down Steve’s spine.

“Eddie, we can’t ruin my work clothes the second I get them.”

“You have a washing machine!”

“I do have a washing machine.” Steve looked up at Eddie and shared a grin with him, laughing as Eddie grabbed his hand and pulled him along back towards the front of the mall. He’d been expecting to feel glum and tired, ready to collapse into bed as soon as he got home. He was tired, but that was a constant of his life, and he was ready to fall into bed for a different reason.

As it turned out, the shorts fit a little too well, it was hard to get them back off in the heat of the moment. Eddie’s lips on his neck as he tried to wiggle out of them made him laugh, and if by some miracle, he didn’t tear them, no one would be the wiser about what he’d gotten up to in his work clothes.

Chapter Text

Sitting next to Tommy Hagan after not seeing him for more than a few seconds in passing in months wasn’t exactly Steve’s idea of a good time. The evening sun was beating down on him and the polyester green gown only seemed to absorb the heat, holding it against his skin. He was pretty sure he’d entirely sweat through his polo shirt already, and the class president was still droning on about… something. He’d zoned out, instead staring at the back of Julie Fisher’s head. She had a pretty bad knot in her long, blonde hair. It looked like she’d tried to braid it without looking.

He could feel Tommy glaring at the side of his head and was silently grateful that Billy was the year below them. He didn’t think he’d be able to stand both of them sneering at him. He shifted again in his seat, glancing to where the stands were full of families. His parents, of course, were absent. But they hadn’t been around for him before, why would they start now?

He was mostly just glad that he’d graduated at all. The sharp downturn of his final semester had been nipping at his heels, but a last second B on his History final had kicked him over the finish line. He really owed Becca one after all of this was over. She’d come over almost every night after school for three weeks straight to help him study for finals.

Steve blinked back to himself as applause rose in volume around him. The class president had finished talking and Principal Higgins had taken the mic to address his class. He found himself zoning out again sometime after “To the class of 1985…”

He’d been having a harder time focusing again. He wanted to pay attention, but today, he just felt sad. He wasn’t looking forward to the empty house he knew he would be going home to. He was looking forward to going to bed after all of this, to shoving his face into his pillows until he fell asleep. The heat and the brightness of the sun were giving him a headache. And it was loud. It was so loud.

He sighed softly and brought a hand up to rub his eyes. He should’ve worn sunglasses. He’d had them in his hand before he left the house and decided against wearing them. They were sitting on his dresser, he should have clipped them to his shirt.

“Shut the fuck up, Harrington,” Tommy hissed. At least, Steve was pretty sure that’s what he’d spit, it was a little hard to hear over the principal reading out names. When Steve looked over, squinting slightly against the glare of the sun, Tommy’s eyes were narrowed in a hate filled glare. “Gotta be fucking obnoxious today, don’t you?”

“I’m not doing anything, man.” Steve held his hands up slightly, defensive. “I just want to get my diploma and go home.” He’d briefly considered not even showing up and just picking up his diploma on Monday. But he’d promised Becca they’d get a photo together after.

“Whatever.” Tommy crossed his arms, nose scrunched up in irritation.

Steve could remember teasing him about that in middle school. His stomach twisted uncomfortably as he thought back to the early days of their friendship. They had been close as brothers for a long time, best friends, family. Steve had spent holidays at the Hagan house when his parents were away. And some when they were home and chose to go to parties where Steve would have been in the way.

Their friendship hadn’t always been bad. It had been great for a long time. It had been the most important thing to Steve. And then high school had changed them, both of them. All three of them. Steve glanced back and caught a glimpse of Carol’s red hair against her graduation gown several rows behind him. Popularity had suddenly been more important than anything else. He and Tommy had made the basketball team and Carol had gotten sharper, a little meaner.

But he’d still had them by his side, so he didn’t worry about it. He’d watched as they spread rumors and snapped at people. He’d started to do the same. And he wasn’t innocent, not by any means. He’d been a dick to people on his own accord. He could’ve stopped sooner, he could’ve taken a step back.

But it wasn’t until he was slapped across the face and then beaten into the ground that he had turned himself around, realizing that maybe, it felt better to stop being a dick, to stop looking for other people’s weaknesses in order to hide your own. It felt better to connect with people genuinely instead of worrying about getting stabbed in the back.

He still missed what had once been.

But he was happier now than he’d been in a long time, even if melancholy crept into his lungs from time to time. He stood up and followed Tommy up to the small stage that had been set up in the middle of the football field. He felt a little numb as names were called ahead of him. Part of him was expecting something to go wrong. For a monster to break out from under the stands, for his diploma to be ripped away, for someone to punch him in the face, give him a third broken nose in two years.

But nothing went wrong.

“Stephen Harrington.”

He blinked as loud cheers came from the stands, chest feeling warm, heart feeling too big for his ribs as he took his diploma. He looked over his shoulder and grinned when he saw Eddie’s unmistakable silhouette standing up on the stands, hands cupped around his mouth. He could just barely make out Jeff standing next to him with his arms out. A small smile crept across his lips as he walked down the other side of the stage. He clutched the diploma to his chest, ducking his head down in an attempt to hide his grin as he found himself sitting back down.

He cheered extra loud for Becca when she got her diploma, ignoring the looks from the people around him. Even after almost two whole school years, there were still lingering expectations, and being friends with one of the smartest, artsiest theater kids in their year went against those expectations. He didn’t care though.

Steve moved the tassel on his hat and threw it in the air with the rest of his class, grinning when Becca found him after hardly a minute. “Steve!”

“Becca, hey!” He held open his arms and absolutely beamed as she crashed into him, practically headbutting his chest in her rush to wrap her arms around him. “We did it.”

“We did it!” She grinned and squeezed him for a long moment before letting go. “My mom is gonna be down here any second, brace yourself.”

“What about the rest of your family?” He raised an eyebrow as she held up a hand to shield her eyes from the sun.

“They’ll be behind her somewhere. She’s… enthusiastic.”

Sure enough, a short woman came bustling through the crowd. “Rebecca!”

“Hey mom.” Becca giggled as she was pulled down into a hug, her mom talking a mile a minute. “This is my friend Steve, remember I was telling you about how I was helping him study?”

“Hi Mrs. Minh.” Steve gave a little wave, smiling. “Becca was really helpful, I probably wouldn’t have graduated if it weren’t for her tutoring.”

“She’s such a bright girl!” Mrs. Mihn beamed. “She said you are very smart and do not give yourself enough credit,” she chided, making Steve blush.

“I don’t know about all that…” He laughed as Becca punched him in the shoulder. “Okay, okay, stop it!”

“You’re so mean to yourself man!” Becca punched him again, a little gentler this time. “But look at you now! High school graduate, starting a job tomorrow… You’ve got way more figured out than you think.”

“Huh. Maybe. I don’t know if-”

“Steve!”

He grunted as a body crashed into his, arms wrapping way too tight around his waist. “Henderson? The hell are you doing here?” Steve laughed and hugged the boy back tight, dropping his head to press it against Dustin’s.

“You’re graduating, I had to come and say congratulations!”

“Don’t you leave for your dork camp tomorrow?”

“Okay, you already know it’s not a dork camp, but yeah, but I wanted to come see you before I leave. Everyone else is going to get to come see you at work except for me.” Dustin tilted his head up without letting go.

“I’m still going to be working there in July.”

“Unless you get fired like a dingus,” Robin piped up from behind him.

“Robin?” Steve twisted to look back at her. “You’re here too?” His chest warmed and he untangled himself from Dustin’s arms to hug her too.

“Yeah, well, Eddie said he wasn’t sure who would be here for you, so…” She shrugged as they hugged. She lightly pushed his chest after letting go. “But this means you have to come to my graduation too.”

“Duh. I mean, I kind of figured I’d be there, anyway.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Oh, hold that thought.” He caught a glimpse of a familiar blur and braced himself. “Jesus,” he wheezed. “Hi Gare.”

“Hi Steve.”

Steve was too warm, but he didn’t care, just clinging to Gareth. He snickered as he felt Jeff throw himself against them, followed in no short order by Eddie and Grant. “Thanks guys,” he mumbled against Gareth’s hair. After a moment, he started to squirm, his chest ready to burst. “Okay, okay, get off of me, it’s like a thousand degrees!”

His mortar board was knocked off as he got away from them and he started to unzip the gown, but Becca’s hand wrapped around his wrist to stop him. “Hey, hey, not yet!”

“Right, right, yeah.” He stooped over to pick up the hat, letting himself be pulled in against her side. He put on the hat, not even caring that his hair was sweaty and falling out of place. He beamed for the picture, hoping his eyes didn’t squint all the way shut when the flash went off.

“Think you can get one with me, sweetheart?” Eddie’s voice was low in his ear, sending a pleasant little shiver through him.

“I don’t have a camera with me.”

“He does.” Eddie jerked his head back and Steve was shocked to see Jonathan coming up to them, Nancy at his side. “Like Buckley probably said, I reached out to a few people. You were pretty upset when you told me your parents wouldn’t be coming and… well, I know you worked really hard. You deserve to be celebrated, baby.”

Steve felt stinging behind his eyes, and for the first time, maybe ever, it was because he was bubbling over with actual joy and happiness. He took a deep breath and grinned at them. “Hey, you guys didn’t have to come.”

Jonathan shrugged and reached out to adjust the hat on his head, straightening it and fixing the tassel. “Lot of things we don’t have to do. We’re here because we want to be.” He smiled. “Mom and Will send their congratulations, I promised to pass the message to you.”

Nancy tucked her hands into her pockets. “You mentioned you were having trouble this last semester, so… well, I’m proud of you, Steve.” She looked at the boys with a small smile. “You know,” she mused. “I almost joined Hellfire as a freshman.”

“What?” Steve wasn’t sure if it was him, Eddie, or Jonathan who said it first.

She grinned, a certain sparkle in her eye. “Who do you think got Mike into Dungeons and Dragons? It definitely wasn’t our parents. He introduced it to Will and Lucas. They were already playing by the time Dustin moved to town. I was pretty into fantasy as a girl.”

“Why didn’t you join?”

“Well, I ended up joining the school paper. I didn’t want to get bullied, I thought it would make me an easy target. And… oh, god, this is silly, there was a girl who was really pretty and I felt intimidated.”

Eddie grinned, wrapping an arm around Steve’s shoulders, thumb brushing against his neck for just a second. “We’ve only had a couple of girls since my freshman year. You’re about to be a senior, right? Becca would’ve been a sophomore, she was the only girl… Becca, get over here!”

Steve watched as Nancy went pink and couldn’t help his smile. “She’s pretty nice, you know.”

“Oh god, Steve, don’t-”

“I’m trying to take pictures with my family!” Becca jutted out her bottom lip. “What is it?”

Eddie pulled her in close and leaned their head together conspiratorially. “Nancy Wheeler here was just telling me that she could’ve been one of our lost little sheepies.”

Nancy sputtered a moment. “I didn’t say anything about being a sheep.” She winced when a flash went off. “Jonathan!”

“You’re cute when you’re all flustered.” He shrugged, holding his camera carefully. “Now I’ve got a picture of it.” He laughed as she shoved her shoulder against his arm.

Becca grinned, hands on her hips as she moved closer to Nancy, taller than her by several inches. “You were interested in joining Hellfire? It would’ve been great to have another girl around.”

Nancy swallowed and nodded, looking up at Becca with wide eyes. “I um, I thought about it. I played D&D with my little brother and his friends sometimes. I joined the paper instead though.”

“Was it because of Eddie? He can be a lot at times.” Becca laughed when Eddie let out a big, offended sound. “See?”

“No, no, it wasn’t Eddie. I don’t think I really saw him much until after I’d decided.” She ducked her head down with a shy little giggle. “I’m sure my brother is going to join next year, though.”

“Well, Eddie doesn’t mind the occasional spectator. Maybe you’ll have to listen in on a future session. Too bad I won’t be there to see you, I’m going out of state for college.” She winked. “Maybe I’ll see you around when I’m home for breaks.”

“Okay,” Nancy breathed, bright pink now. “That sounds good.”

Jonathan shook his head with a little grin. “Okay. Steve, I want to take some pictures of you, sound good?”

Steve let out a huff of a laugh. “Yeah, alright. Henderson, get over here.” He held out an arm and pulled Dustin into his side, squishing him in close as they both beamed for the camera.

Steve felt lighter than he had in a long time. He grinned for photos with his friends and sent Dustin home with a tight hug and a promise to give him a free scoop of ice cream when he got home in July. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten his picture taken like this, outside of picture days at school. He even convinced Jonathan to pass the camera off to Nancy to get some pictures with him.

The sun had sunk low in the sky by the time Jonathan had taken enough photos to fill a roll of film. Gareth smiled brightly, wearing the cap he’d snatched from Steve. “Do you guys want to come over and celebrate? We can order a couple pizzas and hang out.” Becca had already left with her family to get dinner.

Eddie slung an arm around Steve and pulled him in close. His chest rumbled with a quiet hum that only Steve could hear. “I mean, Stevie and I have our first day of work tomorrow, so we probably shouldn’t stay out too late, but I could go for a few slices of pizza.”

Steve nodded, grinning. “Yeah, that sounds great. Not like I had any other plans tonight. I kind of just thought I’d crash at Eddie’s or something.”

“Gross,” Grant teased. “I know what that’s code for.”

Steve blushed and shoved him with a laugh. It was nice, not having to keep his relationship with Eddie a total secret. There were people that knew, people who were just happy that he and Eddie were happy. “Yeah, yeah, shut up man. Nance, Jonathan?”

Jonathan shrugged. “I mean, I don’t have to be home or anything. If it’s okay…?”

Jeff clapped him on the shoulder. “Totally okay. A friend of Steve is a friend of ours.”

“Oh, Gareth?” Steve looked over with an innocent grin.

“Yeah?”

“Is your mom home?”

“Steve, you son of a bitch!” Gareth groaned loudly, slumping against Grant. “Leave her alone!”

“I’ll be your stepdad one way or another, you’ll see!”

Grant shoved Gareth off with a grin. “I think he really likes your mom, dude. Maybe he can make her happy. Don’t you want her to be happy?”

“Not with Steve.”

Steve gasped and clutched his chest like he’d been shot. “Gareth! You’re so cruel!” He slumped against Eddie, who was cackling loudly. “He doesn’t want me to be happy, Eddie.”

“The nerve of this kid, I can’t believe him.” Eddie stroked his cheek. “We should make him get extra cheese on the pizza.”

“That would be the only thing that could make up for him ruining my whole day.” Steve nodded, wishing he could kiss Eddie right there. If there were fewer families lingering around, he might have risked it, but he settled for leaning on Eddie for another long moment. “Sound fair to you, Gare?”

Gareth sighed dramatically. “Whatever. Just… don’t hit on my mom.”

“I make no promises.” Steve grinned and let Eddie guide him away towards the parking lot. He unzipped the graduation gown, sighing. “I’m so gross, I completely sweat through my shirt.”

Eddie wiggled his eyebrows. “Yeah? That’s not gross, baby, just means you smell extra good.”

“You’re so gross!” Steve let himself be backed against Eddie’s van in the mostly empty parking lot. “So fucking gross, man…” He bit his lip and tugged Eddie in by his belt loops.

Eddie pressed their mouths together, slow and sweet. “Hey. I’m proud of you, Steve.”

“Shut up…”

“No, baby, I am. You did it, you graduated! We’re gonna have… the best summer ever, okay?”

Steve laughed and leaned in for another kiss. “Okay. Best summer ever.”

Chapter Text

“Steve! Tell your kid to quit loitering.” Robin pointed across the shop, drawing Steve’s gaze to Mike Wheeler, doing his best to look inconspicuous near the entrance. “He’s been there for like 10 minutes now.”

Steve had been… entirely zoned out, wiping at the same spot on the counter for god knows how long. That was the problem with an ice cream shop opening bright and early at 8 am with the rest of the mall. He rubbed his eyes and nodded. “Yup, okay. Mike, if you’re gonna hang out in here, at least get a scoop of something.”

Steve could feel Mike’s stare, but he couldn’t quite make out the expression on his face. After a moment, he shuffled towards the counter, arms crossed over his chest. “…can we talk.” It was almost a question, but he looked like it pained him to ask.

“Yeah, sure.” Steve grabbed his ice cream scoop and a cup, rolling a heaping scoop of raspberry swirl. He stuck a spoon in it and pushed it over the counter to Mike. He deposited the scooper into the sink and tossed a few quarters into the till from his pocket. “I’m taking my 15, Rob. Tell Eddie if he comes over.”

Mike looked surprised at the cup of ice cream, but shoveled a spoonful into his mouth. “…thanks,” he murmured as he followed Steve into the back room. Steve took a seat at the little folding card table and stretched a leg out to kick out the other chair.

“Have a seat, kid. What’s going on? Are you like… safe?”

“What? Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I mean, not fine, but… fine.” He groaned, stabbing the spoon into the ice cream. “This is so dumb, I don’t even know why I’m coming to you. But it’s not like I can go to any of the guys for this, definitely not Nancy. You just seemed like the safest bet.”

“Well, whatever you need to say, I can promise you I won’t talk about it to anyone else. This can stay just between us.”

Mike nodded, stabbing at the ice cream with his spoon. He was quiet for a few long moments, occasionally licking the spoon clean without meeting Steve’s eyes. “It’s about El,” he said, breaking the fluorescent buzzing filled quiet. “I mean, I really really like her. She’s awesome, and like, a superhero. And she’s… she’s just…”

“How long have you two been together?” The timeline had always felt fuzzy to Steve. Even on the rare occasion that he saw El, it was usually brief.

“When Will first went missing, that’s when we found her in the woods, and we kissed before she like, banished the demogorgon and herself.” He paused, looking down at his cup of ice cream again. “I mean, I kissed her, I guess. I’m not sure she really knew what it meant. And then she disappeared for a year, and we’ve been seeing each other when I can go over to the cabin. And we mostly listen to the radio and, um, you know, make out.”

Steve took off his hat, fidgeting with it. It felt weird, for Mike to be telling him all of this. As far as he’d known, the kid didn’t like him, just tolerated him because of the Upside Down. “Right, so… what’s the problem?”

“She’s great. El is really great, you know? But when I’m with her, I don’t feel… I don’t feel the way I’m supposed to.”

“The way you’re supposed to…?” Steve made a vague hand gesture. “I’m gonna need more than that.”

“I don’t know!” Mike groaned and stirred at his ice cream, a touch more aggressive than he needed to be.

“Okay, well… let’s start with how you think you’re supposed to feel.”

“I’m supposed to want… you know, more, or whatever.” He squirmed in his seat, spoon hanging out of his mouth. “She’s really cool and she’s… I’m supposed to l- to like her.” He wouldn’t meet Steve’s eyes.

“You… don’t like her?” Steve was confused as he watched Mike’s obvious discomfort. “What do you mean you're supposed to like her?”

“You know! She saved my life, I’m supposed to… fall into her arms or whatever.”

“She saved Will’s life too. Do you expect him to start swooning?” Steve raised an eyebrow at the way Mike’s face twisted.

“What? Do you think that he- oh my god, does Will like El?” He looked up at Steve with wide eyes. “I- I mean, they do spend a lot of time together, like, she’s at their house sometimes.”

“What? No, that’s not what I was saying. I was trying to make a point.” Steve sighed softly. Why was Mike so concerned about if Will liked El? Unless… He shook off the thought. “Your life isn’t some cliched plot. I mean, you’re not expected to be with someone unless the relationship makes you happy. Does dating El make you happy?”

Mike didn’t say anything for a long moment. He set the cup of ice cream down and nudged it away from himself like it was making him sick. “I don’t…”

“You don’t know?” Steve gave him a faint smile. “That’s okay. You’re 14, you don’t need to have it all figured out.”

Mike shrugged and kicked at the floor. His jaw worked for a moment as he sat there silently. Steve had never really connected with Mike, not the way he kind of had with the other kids. Mike was stubborn and angry and… god, definitely traumatized. Mike was like a warped mirror. He was a lot of things that Steve had been at his age. Vengeful and angry and ready to spit blood.

He was okay to sit in silence and let Mike collect his thoughts. He was pretty sure they were more alike than either of them really thought. He wasn’t anticipating to hear Eddie’s voice carry through the window dividing the back and the front of the shop. Or for the door to slam open. “Stevie!”

“Hey Eddie. Didn’t Robin tell you I’m having a conversation back here?” He raised an eyebrow, but he couldn’t make himself be too annoyed with him. Or, well, annoyed at all. Seeing Eddie always brightened his mood.

“She did. I ignored her because I go on shift soon and wanted to see you first.” He leaned on the wall by the door. “You’re one of Henderson’s friends, right?” He nodded at Mike.

Mike blinked, looking between the two of them. “Yeah. Who are you?”

Eddie bent forward in a deep bow, giving a flourish of his hand. Steve covered his mouth to keep himself from laughing, rolling his eyes so far back it made his head hurt for a second. “Eddie Munson the First at your service!”

“Ooh, the first, huh? What a title.” Steve grinned when Eddie snapped his teeth in his direction, something that should’ve been stupid and not hot.

“You’re friends with Steve? But- But you’re cool! Dustin talks about you all the time!” Mike seemed genuinely shocked. Rude little shit.

“Hey, I’m wearing a polo.” Eddie tugged at the collar of his work shirt. “I’m totally Steve’s type.”

“Is that what you think of me, Munson?” Steve leaned forward against the little table, doing his best not to think about biting him. Eddie really had rubbed off on him, and not just in the fun way.

“I mean, have you seen what you’re wearing?” Eddie eyed him with a smirk, a look in his eyes that made Steve’s gut swoop. “Now, what are you doing back here with someone who certainly isn’t an employee of this fine establishment?”

Mike sneered, but Steve could tell it didn’t have its usual heat behind it. “It’s nothing.”

Steve sighed softly. “Mike, it’s fine. Eddie’s cool, he won’t tell anyone anything you might want to say. But we can totally kick him out and never give him free ice cream again.”

“...hey.” Eddie crossed the room and snatched Steve’s hat with a little huff of air. “So, so mean, Stevie. The cruelest ever and so, so, so mean to me.”

“Give me my hat back, Eddie.” Steve let out a fond sigh, holding out his hand. Eddie held it just out of reach with a little smirk. He grabbed for it, letting out a bratty little whine when Eddie tugged it away before his fingers could grasp the cheap fabric. “Eddie! Give it back!”

Eddie snorted and dropped it, watching Steve fumble to catch it. God, Steve loved his stupid boyfriend so much. “Nice catch, Stevie. Almost let it hit the dirty floor, though. I bet that’s against company policy…”

“Don’t even mention company policy to me, Munson.” Steve rolled his eyes again, making sure Eddie could see. If they were alone, he’d be baiting Eddie to pin him against the wall and shove his tongue into his mouth. He loved when Eddie pressed him up against a wall. They had to be careful, it was easier to get away with a little making out in the break room at West Coast Records, the door had an obnoxiously loud knob. Here, there was just a swinging door and a window with shutters.

And Mike, at the moment.

Eddie glanced down at Mike. “So… cleric, huh?”

Mike sighed, dropping his head down on the table. “I’m not a very good one,” he muttered.

“Woah, did something happen? I mean, you kids don’t ever shut up about D&D. And Max won’t shut up about how you guys won't shut up about it.”

“It’s not like we can even play right now!” Mike kicked at the floor, his sneakers scuffed and dirty. Dustin’s at his dumb camp and Lucas is way more worried about whatever dumb argument of the week he’s having with Max.”

“They’re still dating, right?”

“Probably.” Mike shrugged. “They had some kind of fight yesterday, though. She breaks up with him so often I can’t keep track of it.”

“Ah, young love.” Eddie leaned on the card table and let out a little yelp when it swayed under his weight. “Woah, shit, someone should do something about that.”

“Maybe don’t lean on it.” Steve leaned down to make sure Eddie hadn’t bent anything too out of shape.

“Alright, alright.” Eddie cleared his throat with his usual level of dramatic flair. “As I was saying. Young love got you down, Wheeler?”

“It’s not- I don’t love her,” Mike blurted.

Steve hummed. “Well. That was… honest.”

Mike groaned and covered his face, shrinking down in his chair. “I’m supposed to. I know I’m supposed to, but I can’t. I’m trying to. I care about her so much.”

Eddie hesitated before patting him on the shoulder. “It’s nothing wrong with you,” he said, his voice gentle, gentler than Steve was used to hearing it. “Sometimes we don’t feel the way we think we do about things or people. It doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with you, it doesn’t make you a bad person. It’s just how life is sometimes.” Eddie crouched down to meet Mike’s gaze. “It’s okay, Mike. But I think you should tell this girl that.”

“I don’t want to lose her,” he whispered, tearing his gaze away from Eddie. “I mean it, I really do care about her. I just don’t love her the way I’m supposed to.”

“Supposed to is… It’s unfair to you. Sounds like she’s going to be a really awesome friend. And hey, for all you know, she’s feeling the same.” Eddie groaned slightly as he straightened back up, wincing as his knees cracked. He scrunched up his nose and shot a look at Steve when he snickered softly. “Watch it.” He looked back at Mike. “You’re only hurting yourself if you don’t talk to her, man. Well, and her. It’s not fair to either of you to stay in a relationship that isn’t working.”

Steve nodded with a small smile. Seeing Eddie get along with any of the kids made his heart race a little faster. “Eddie’s right. Just sit down and have a long talk with her, be honest, it’ll be good in the long run, even if it sucks a little bit.”

“It’s gonna suck so much,” Mike griped, but some of the tension had visibly left his body. He shoved a hand through his hair and tugged at it. “I’m a shitty person,” he groaned, dropping his head down against the table.

“You’re not a shitty person. You’re 14.” Steve leaned forward to pat the top of Mike’s head. “You’re a kid. And not just that, you’re a kid who has been through some real shit, seen stuff no one should ever have to.” He shot a quick glance at Eddie, who just nodded along, thankfully not asking any questions. “You’re not a bad person, Mike.”

He got up and patted Mike’s back when he heard another voice coming from the front. He nudged the shuttered window open to see Max leaning against the counter. “Boys are the worst,” she was complaining to Robin.

“Yup.” Robin scooped some mint ice cream onto a cone and passed it to her. “You want my advice? Don’t date them.”

“I’m thinking I never should’ve started.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Robin said with a snicker.

“Hey Mayfield. I heard you and Lucas were having another fight.”

Max frowned and licked her ice cream. “From who? We’ve been like, fine for two weeks.” Her voice pitched up slightly and he could see Robin raising an eyebrow.

“Not according to Mike.”

“Dude,” Mike hissed. “Seriously?”

“...what?”

“Why is Mike talking to you about me and Lucas?” Max glared and shoved her way into the back room. “What the fuck, Wheeler?”

“What? You’re always at his throat for no reason!” Mike stood up and crossed his arms, matching her glare. “Lucas has done nothing but try and make you happy! You’re- you’re such a bitch, Max!”

Steve winced as he watched Max crush the ice cream cone in her hand. Eddie took a few steps back so he was hidden behind Steve, and even Robin cringed from where she was watching through the window. “Ooh, bad move kid.”

Max dropped the crushed cone and Steve sighed as it splattered against the floor. He was going to have to clean that up. “I’m a bitch? Is that the best you can come up with? I know you don’t like me, but you could at least pretend once in a while!” She grabbed a napkin to start wiping her hand clean, eyebrows pulled together angrily. “You’re the asshole here, not me!”

Mike looked taken aback, but he met her glare. “I’m the asshole? You’re constantly critical of everything we do! You’re negative about everything, you never want to do the things we do. If you hate me so much, why don’t you just go away?”

“I’m critical? Am I fucking critical, Michael?” Max took a step forward, her cheeks flushed red with anger. “All of you find ways to remind me that I’m not as smart as you and I haven’t been around as long as you all, and I don’t fit because you don’t want me to!” She threw the napkin at Mike. It hit him in the chest and fluttered down to the ground. “And you don’t need to know this, but I broke up with Lucas because he was implying that I’m not smart enough to take the same classes as you guys next year when I know I had better a better grade in math than you and a better grade in history than Will!”

Mike looked about ready to hit her and Steve was ready to step in before they got physical. “Yeah, well… well you like girls!”

Max’s eyes widened and she glanced at Steve for a brief second before looking back at Mike. “You want to kiss Will more than your girlfriend!”

“Okay, okay, that’s enough out of both of you!” Steve finally stepped between them. “Both of you need to cool off, okay? I don’t know if that stuff is true or not, and if it is, that’s fine, it’s not shit you should be using against each other in a fight. Especially not in front of other people. That’s fucking dangerous. If the wrong people hear that, it could get you guys hurt.” He crossed his arms and looked at Mike. “And if it isn’t true, that’s not something you use as an insult, you got it?”

“But-”

“I said, you got it?” Steve raised an eyebrow. “I know you and Max don’t always get along, but whether you like it or not, she’s part of your little party. So figure out how to be friends.” When Mike nodded, he turned to Max. “And you. I know you go out of your way to antagonize him. You guys have a lot in common, which is why you butt heads so much, but try to find ways to get along, alright? I’m sorry Lucas was being a dick to you, you’re allowed to be angry, but you don’t have to take it out on Mike.”

Max nodded, actually looking ashamed. “...you’re right. I’m sorry Mike.”

Mike crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m sorry, Max.”

“Good.” Steve smiled and put a hand on top of both of their heads. “Alright, if you two can promise to get along and you won’t tell the others about this… I can get you into the movie theater.” He and Robin had figured out how to navigate the back halls during their first few days. Technically they were only supposed to use them to pick up shipments when they showed up, but they’d snuck in to see the new James Bond movie after a shift. “And you can’t tell anyone I let you through. Deal?”

Max looked over at Mike, seemingly considering him for a long moment. “Yeah. Okay, deal.”

Mike nodded and held out a hand. “...I drew first blood,” he said quietly. Steve could remember Dustin and Lucas doing something similar.

Max shook his hand, glancing between Eddie and Robin for a moment before looking back to Steve. He showed them how to get to the movie theater. “Be stealthy. Don’t let anyone see you.”

Robin and Eddie were talking in hushed whispers when he got back and he sighed as he looked at the quickly melting ice cream and the crushed cone on the floor. “Damnit,” he muttered, grabbing a mop to clean it up. “Do you think they’ll actually start getting along now?”

Eddie turned from Robin and smiled a little. “You handled that remarkably well, Steve.”

He shrugged. “Well, if I’m gonna have kids of my own someday, I might as well get as much practice dealing with them as I can.”

Robin chuckled. “Harrington, babysitter extraordinaire.”

“Something like that. Pretty sure babysitters actually get paid though.” He smirked. “Eds, you’ve got work, don’t you?”

Eddie groaned. “Can’t I just hang out here instead?”

“No.” Steve was tempted to pull him in for a kiss, but he wasn’t going to do that while they were under Robin’s watchful eye. “Go to work. I'll see you later.” He put the mop down as Eddie bumped their shoulders together.

Robin shifted awkwardly as they were once again alone in the shop. “Do they fight like that often?”

“More than anyone else in their little friend group. They’re both hotheads.” Steve put the mop away and joined her in the front again. “They’re usually good about not pulling out that kind of… insult, though. But I guess they’re teenagers, so…” He trailed off with a shrug.

“You, uh, you told them that kind of thing isn’t an insult.”

“Yeah?” Steve frowned as he looked over at her. “I mean, it’s not. Being gay isn’t an insult, it’s just… something some people are. But it’s not… safe to make those accusations. Probably not anywhere, but especially the middle of Nowhere, Indiana.”

Robin nodded. “Yeah, yeah. I just didn’t think you’d be so cool about that kind of thing.”

“I’m insanely cool about everything.” Steve nudged her as he started to clean the scoopers. “Admit it, Buckley, I’m the coolest person you know.”

He looked up to see a slow smile stretch across her lips. “In your fucking dreams, Harrington.”

Chapter Text

“Mm, Eddie…” Steve’s head bumped against the wall as he tilted his head to the side. Eddie’s hair tickled his skin, lips leaving wet little kisses up and down his neck. Steve yelped in surprise when the lips moved to his throat and teeth playfully grazed his adams apple, but it dissolved into giggles. “Eddie!”

Eddie’s lips were kiss swollen as he lifted his head and grinned. “What?”

“Didn’t ask you to stop,” Steve groaned, bringing up a hand to tug at Eddie’s curls, spilling out of a rushed ponytail. He took a few breaths to slow his racing heart and grinned as the familiar heavy beats of Crazy Train began to fill the shitty little break room. “You got control of the music today?”

“Mhm.” Eddie nipped at Steve’s throat, drawing a little sigh from him. “I love throwing on some classic Ozzy, baby.” He hummed along to the music, little vibrations tickling Steve’s sensitive skin.

Steve snorted at a too-gentle kiss that tickled the side of his neck. “Classic? Wouldn’t this have to be a little older to be a classic?”

“Fine, in 40 years we can have this conversation again.” Eddie pulled back to meet Steve’s gaze.

40 years? “That long?” Steve felt something warm in his chest, something almost too big for his body to contain. “You’re still gonna… be arguing about music with me?” He was still going to be around? He thought he'd still want to be with Steve that far in the future?

“Duh. I mean, I’m sure we’ll find other things to argue about, but I’m always gonna love a healthy debate.” Eddie leaned in for another kiss and made the prettiest little sound as Steve pulled him in tight. His fingertips traced Steve’s cheek down to his jaw and made him shiver despite the warm, sticky temperature. “I’m gonna watch you lose all this gorgeous hair, gonna mourn it with you…”

Steve snorted and pushed his chest. “Hey, I’m never going bald, alright? This gorgeous hair is going to be on my skeleton for the rest of time.”

Eddie let out a laugh that bordered on a cackle and pressed in so their chests nudged together, warm breaths being shared between them. “Your skeleton, huh?”

“Mhm. When archeologists dig up the ashy ruins of Hawkins in a thousand years, my hair is going to be right there for all to see.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works.”

“It is for me. I’m special.” He stuck out his bottom lip in a pout, letting out a sharp, surprised laugh when Eddie leaned in and tugged at it with his teeth. “Ow, hey!”

“So special, Stevie.” Eddie’s hand, big and warm, pressed against Steve’s chest. “My special boyfriend.” He kissed him again, slower this time, and Steve sunk into the comfort of it.

He’d have to be getting back to Scoops soon, he knew his break was almost over. He was supposed to be getting lunch, but he’d much rather be here in Eddie’s arms. “Come over tonight?” Eddie asked softly, between breathless kisses.

“Okay.” Steve smiled. “Are you gonna make dinner for me?”

“Only the best for my baby,” Eddie murmured, dipping his head to kiss Steve's jaw. “Gonna make you mac and cheese from the fanciest box.”

“You spoil me.” And Steve meant it, even if his tone had a teasing edge to it. The way Eddie treated him made him feel special. Loved. He tugged at a lock of Eddie’s hair. “I have to go.”

“I know.” Eddie lifted his head and kissed him again, just a hint of tongue swiping against Steve’s lips. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll see you soon, Eds.” Steve hugged him, taking a moment to bask in it. “Love you.”

“I love you too, Stevie.” Eddie kissed his forehead.

Steve’s cheeks were warm as he slipped out of the break room. He glanced down at his watch and winced. Time had slipped away faster than he realized and he was running late, he’d promised to be back at Scoops five minutes ago. Robin was going to be so annoyed, he was definitely keeping her from getting her lunch. He dashed back across to the shop and pulled his hat from his back pocket. “Sorry I’m late!”

“Ugh, were you hanging out with Eddie again?” Robin slipped out from behind the counter and knocked her shoulder against his. “You have visitors, by the way.” She gestured to one of the tables and Steve grinned when he saw Grant, Gareth, and Jeff. “Thought I’d let you serve them.”

She wiggled her fingers in a wave and walked out of the store, Gareth hopping up with a bright smile. “Hey Steve.”

“Hi Gareth. What can I get for you?” He gestured up at the menu board with a little grin. “Can I recommend a sundae with too much on it that still isn’t worth what you pay? Or a milkshake that will inevitably have to be mopped up by me in 20 minutes?”

“So, you like the job, huh?” Gareth leaned against the display case with a laugh. “Ooh, the chocolate raspberry looks good, though. Can I have a cone of that?”

“Sure, man. Jeff, Grant, what do you guys want?” Steve leaned down to start scooping.

“So, where were you? You’re not usually late for stuff.” Jeff leaned over Gareth’s shoulder to look at the ice cream. “Were you over at the record shop?” He smirked when he caught Steve’s eye.

“Eddie and I got caught up in talking. I lost track of time.” Steve could feel his cheeks warming and knew they were pink. “Have you gone to bother him yet, or am I just special?”

Gareth leaned back against Jeff and Steve tried not to smirk at the look that crossed Jeff’s face. Gareth reached out to take his ice cream cone, licking the scoop with a pleased smile. “Nah, we thought we’d come see you first. It’s cooler in here.”

“I feel loved, knowing you came all the way here to stand in the air conditioning.” Steve dunked the scooper into hot water to rinse it off. “Come on, Grant, Jeff, what do you guys want?” He raised an eyebrow at the way Jeff was intently watching Gareth eat his ice cream. Man, he had it bad.

Grant flicked the side of Jeff’s head and grinned when he blinked a few times and pulled his gaze away from Gareth. “Huh?” Steve rolled his eyes and gestured to the ice cream. “Oh! Um, right, yup. A scoop of the cookies and cream, in a cone, thanks Steve.”

Steve mock saluted and scooped it up for him before looking to Grant. “And you, man?”

“Just a little bit of vanilla in a cup with a cherry, thanks.”

“Really? I can like, put some whipped cream on it too.”

“Nah. I’m a little lactose intolerant.”

Steve scoffed and added two extra cherries to his bowl. “Okay, so is Eddie. Has that ever stopped him?”

Grant made a face and took the bowl when it was offered. “I can’t believe you’re sleeping with him.”

Steve blushed and ducked his head, biting back a grin. “Yeah, I am.”

“Gross.” Gareth grinned and dug a hand into his pocket, passing money over to Steve. “Things are still good?”

Steve nodded and counted out change, dropping coins into Gareth’s palm. “Really good. I’m going over tonight after work, so… yeah, pretty great.”

“Gross.” Jeff looked more like he was sulking than anything else and Steve shared a look with Grant, who just shook his head. “I’m happy for you guys or whatever.”

“Thanks Jeff, you know it means a lot to us.” Steve grinned at him and grabbed a rag to start wiping down tables. “How about you guys? Any love life updates?”

“Nope.” Grant sat down at one of the tables and spooned out a cherry. “We’re all single as ever.” He leaned over to be closer to Steve before mumbling, “Even if certain someones don’t have to be.” Steve had to strain his ears to hear him.

“Oh please, they’re going to swoon over each other forever, we all know it.”

“I was so sure one of them would do something by now. Eddie and I almost had a bet going, you know.”

“Good thing you didn’t put money on it, then.” Steve swatted his arm with the rag and smirked. “You would’ve paid for our date night.”

“Oh, definitely a good thing I didn’t.” He laughed as Steve flipped him off with a playful little grin.

Steve turned his attention to Jeff and Gareth, who were looking over a map of the mall, heads bowed together. They were definitely closer than they needed to be, Steve could practically feel the tension in the air, hear it crackling. But Jeff just started to fold up the map after another minute. Oh well. One day they’d get it figured out.

He chatted with them as he cleaned off tables, a spray bottle of cleaner hooked into one of his belt loops.

There was always a weird little quiet period after the big lunch rush, the perfect time for him and Robin to slip away on their breaks and go grab food from somewhere else in the mall. Though Steve usually took his break and used it to go make out with Eddie or just sit down and get off his feet for fifteen precious minutes. He’d figured out pretty quickly that the management was more concerned with the inventory of ice cream than anything else and no one noticed if he swiped a few bananas or a handful of strawberries.

He was just finishing cleaning the tables when Robin returned, sipping on a soda from the Burger King. Gareth finished his ice cream and gave Steve a hug, the other guys waving as they headed out, presumably to go bother Eddie. And just a moment later, Erica Sinclair walked in, flanked by her usual friends. Steve sighed and shared a look with Robin, turning to scrub his hands clean. “I’ll grab more sample spoons from the back.”

“Hooray,” she deadpanned.

The rest of his shift was spent on his feet, running back and forth between the back and the front of Scoops Ahoy, making sundaes, cleaning tables, mopping spills, and counting change. It was becoming a familiar routine to him, which he kind of liked. Working at the pool had been similar in a lot of ways, though making sure kids didn’t drown had always felt a little more urgent. Here, the most urgent concern was making sure no one choked on anything or the little stove keeping the hot fudge hot didn’t burst into flames. And so far, neither of those things had happened.

If he was lucky, Erica demanding fifteen samples in a row would be the worst thing he’d deal with all summer.

By the time he was clocking out, his back ached from heaving the huge buckets of ice cream and he wanted to collapse onto the nearest soft surface. The most interesting thing that had happened was a girl Steve sort of recognized from school coming in. Robin had shoved him to take care of her order, chatting with Vickie with her usual nervous ramble, giggling way too much. That had definitely been interesting.

He yawned and stuffed the hat into his back pocket as he dragged his feet over to Eddie’s van. He slumped against the hood, folding his arms under his head. Nuzzling his cheek into the crook of his arm, he stared out at the door Eddie usually used to leave at the end of his shifts.

Usually was the apt word apparently, a pair of arms wrapping tight around his waist. Steve let out an undignified noise and looked down at the ringed hands on him. “Eddie,” he groaned as his head fell back. “You scared me! Make some noise next time.”

Eddie laughed, right next to his ear. “Okay baby,” he murmured. “I’ll take louder steps next time I approach you from behind.” He gave Steve a squeeze around the waist. “I heard you got some visitors at work today.”

“I take it you got the same ones?” Steve wiggled free and turned to look at Eddie. He leaned back against the van and pressed his hands against the sun warmed metal. “Can we please talk about Jeff and Gareth? Because Jeff couldn’t stop staring at Gareth’s mouth and I can feel myself losing my mind over them. I mean, how long can two people carry mutual crushes?”

Eddie laughed softly, reaching out to hold Steve’s chin a moment. Steve felt heat rush to his cheeks and his tongue poked out to wet his lips. “They’ll figure it out eventually, I’ve got faith in them.”

“That makes one of us.” Steve leaned forward to bump against Eddie before slipping away to get in the van. “Let’s get out of here, I think your bed is calling our names.”

Steve swore there was an Eddie-shaped cloud left behind when he dashed to get in the van. “My bed you say?”

“I’ve been on my feet all day.” Steve batted his eyelashes at Eddie. “Maybe a little bit of rest would make me feel better.”

A warm hand came to rest on his thigh, fingers nudging the leg of his stupid short little shorts up. “Rest? Maybe I’ll have to tire you out first, get you nice and relaxed so you sleep real good all night.”

Steve bit down on the inside of his cheek to keep himself from making any embarrassing noises. “Yeah, maybe.” He rolled down the window and closed his eyes a moment as the hot breeze passed through the van. “I believe I was promised very fancy mac and cheese first, though.”

“I am a man of my word, Stevie. I can provide you with two things.” Steve could practically hear the smirk in his voice. “We’ve got the trailer to ourselves and I plan on taking full advantage.”

Steve melted, just a little bit as he gazed at Eddie, at the way the sunset made Eddie’s skin glow, made his hair look like a halo. “Gonna tire me out so I sleep all night?” Eddie was aware of his nightmares, there was no hiding them this far into their relationship. But they weren’t as bad when he wasn’t alone, when he had Eddie’s body pressed up against his own.

“You know it, baby.” Eddie's thumb dug into the thickest part of Steve’s thigh, massaging the muscle in little circles. “When I’m done with you, you’re going to have the best night of sleep you’ve ever had.”

Steve felt a pleased shiver run down his spine. “I’m holding you to that,” he murmured, settling in for the drive across town.

And, well, that night, with his arm slung around Eddie, his sweaty chest pressed to Eddie’s sweaty back, he smiled as drowsiness tugged at his mind. His nose bumped against the back of Eddie’s neck and Eddie’s fingers laced with his. “I love you.” Eddie’s voice was just loud enough to be heard over the whirring fan in the corner of the room.

“Love you too,” Steve whispered, breath ghosting against skin. He didn’t have any nightmares that night, only blissful dreams full of love and warmth.

Chapter Text

The thing is, Steve didn't know if this was the right call. As a punch to the face split his eyebrow, sending an almost instant stream of blood down his face, he didn’t know if he made the right choice. He tried to blink his eye clear, but it was already swelling, the lid forced halfway closed. His hearing had become muffled, but he knew he was being screamed at as he leaned forward to try and lessen the pressure in his head.

He could hear faint screams, he was pretty sure they were Robin’s. He could’ve held that door by himself, at least for another moment, should’ve sent her with the kids. What if they were lost? What if Robin was in just as bad a shape as him? Worse?

His trail of thought was broken by a hit that snapped his head back. He hadn’t been ready for it, hadn’t been braced. There was an undercurrent to the pain, a feeling he’d never put a name to. There was a satisfaction to taking a hit, the moment before it set in where it felt right. The pressure before the pain, striking him like a wave. Then the pain.

He fell into a zen like state, staring blankly at the ground as his chin met his chest, trying to figure out how he’d gotten here.

He’d been so excited for Dustin to be home. To bicker with him about anything and everything, to be conned into giving him rides to the arcade and let him dig through the ashtray for coins. He’d wanted to have a normal summer, to work his dumb ice cream job and make out with his boyfriend and go to the basketball court with his friends, and just feel… normal.

Steve had finally been happy. He’d finally settled after everything, he’d even been sleeping through the night more often than not for the first time since… well, the Byers’ living room. But Dustin had been so insistent that they’d be heroes if they found some stupid Russian plot, and then Robin had decoded the message, they’d cracked the stupid code.

His eyes prickled as he was punched in the gut and he could taste blood and bile on the back of his tongue, could feel it burning in the back of his throat. He groaned and bent forward, trying to protect his stomach. He jerked his arms against his bindings, hardly flinching as he felt skin tear, felt his skin rubbed raw in the places that weren’t outright bloody. He felt himself answering the questions instead of knowing what he was saying. He blurted that he worked for Scoops Ahoy, that he wasn’t a spy, that he had ended up here by accident.

The elevator had been the worst. He had reached for Dustin and Erica and Robin during the freefall, but he’d been unable to move much, unable to take steps towards them. He’d been crushed under boxes as the elevator had stopped on a dime and he was pretty sure his head had hit the floor. Taking hit after hit to the face with blood running down his lips and dripping off his chin, he wasn’t so concerned with that knock to the head, but it had left him with a headache throbbing behind his temples for the hours and hours he’d sat awake with Robin, talking in hushed voices as Erica and Dustin slept.

They’d kept watch, pressed shoulder to shoulder when he was able to make himself sit, and Steve had worried that something or someone would try to ambush them while the kids weren’t alert. He kept pacing the small space, desperate to find a way out. Desperate to not let his brain connect what was happening now to what had been happening for a year and a half already.

He’d driven Robin up the wall, he knew he had, but he had been ready to puke the whole time. He puked now as he took another hit to the stomach, spitting up blood and half digested banana from his snack before they’d gone looking for the delivery bay. He stared at the puddle in his lap with bleary eyes, his vision blurring more than it ever had. He thought he might be going cross eyed from all the hits to the head.

He gasped when a hand grabbed his hair roughly and yanked his head back. The lights weren’t bright in the metal room, but he felt like they were stabbing into his skull. He hoped Robin remembered the cover story they’d come up with in the elevator, the one that wasn’t so far from the truth. “We were looking for a lost shipment,” he managed, words heavy on his tongue. He’d bitten it at some point and blood was pooling in his mouth, a sensation so familiar to him from nightmares and his memory. He felt it dribbling down his chin and neck, probably getting absorbed by his already sweat soaked shirt collar.

Another punch to the side of the head had lights flashing under his eyelids and he let out a low whine as blood began to trickle from under his hairline. First his tongue and now his head, this was a greatest hits compilation of all his injuries until now. His head was throbbing like a heartbeat and his ears were ringing, his stomach kept lurching, even though there was nothing left in it.

It didn’t stop him from hiccuping a little gag at the next blow to his gut. If this was what torture was…

He could handle a few more hours of it. If he was really lucky, the dark spots that peppered his blurring vision would take over and he’d get some reprieve from it. He tried to remember what he knew about interrogations from movies and tv, but it was getting harder to think. “Who do you work for?”

“Scoops Ahoy,” he gasped out. He didn’t think they believed him. But they weren’t pouring water over his face or… or leaving him alone to go crazy. If they left him alone for days at a time… he could actually probably handle that. He remembered one time as a kid when his dad locked him in his bedroom for a whole three day weekend. It hadn’t been the first time he’d been locked in his room as a punishment, but he’d started to think they’d forgotten about him when the sun rose on the third day. He’d stopped pleading to be let out by the end of the first few hours. And it’s not like that had been torture, obviously. He’d had his bed and…

Well, not much else. He was pretty sure that was the whole reason he’d never had many books or toys or anything as a kid, so that being sent to his room couldn’t be considered anything but a punishment.

Steve blinked blood out of his eyes and lifted his heavy head slowly. Maybe it was weird to think about his childhood and his parents at a time like this, but he wondered if they’d know he was missing. If they kept him down here forever, would anyone look for him?

He almost hoped they wouldn’t, that Eddie would move on and forget him, he didn’t want Eddie to mourn him. His head snapped back as a fist collided with his face, his already broken nose gushing blood down his lips. He choked on the blood streaming down his throat, sputtering on it. Was it possible to drown in your own blood? He didn’t think he had the strength to pull his head forward. The choice was made for him, a hand yanking his head forward by the hair. He coughed, spraying blood on his pants, already stained by puke.

He didn’t want Eddie to have to be sad if he died down here. Maybe he’d find someone else, someone who would love him just as much as Steve did. That would be nice, right? If Heaven was real, maybe he’d get to watch Eddie live a happy life. Maybe he could watch Gareth too. God, he missed Gareth. He hadn’t seen him in days, knew he was camping with his dad for the fourth, he hoped he was having fun. If he ever got out of here, he’d ask, he’d invite the guys over, maybe they could stay forever and he’d never be alone like this again.

Alone?

Steve blinked blearily and looked around the room. He was alone? He swiveled his head, but the only thing he could see were the blurs of the lights and the vague shape of the door. “No,” he rasped out. “I didn’t mean it! Wait, wait! Don’t leave me here!”

He whined weakly and lifted his head to look up at the lights. They felt like icepicks going through his eyes, probably the sign of another goddamn concussion. He sighed and closed his aching eyes, feeling the way his eyelid was already swelling, he knew he wouldn’t be able to open it come morning. Or evening? He wasn’t sure how long he’d been there, wasn’t sure if he’d ever escape.

He struggled with the restraints, but he wasn’t even sure what was holding his hands back. Cuffs maybe? Not- he twisted to try and feel them against unbroken skin- probably not ropes. The circulation to his hands was being cut off, he could feel tingling in the tips of his fingers. There wasn’t enough give to do anything but let the material cut deeper into his skin. He yanked and could feel the way his shoulders protested, but he just pressed his feet flat on the floor and leaned forwards, gritting his teeth until his jaw ached.

“Come on, come on,” he hissed. Something popped, his wrist or his shoulder or a rib and he gasped loudly. “Oh fuck,” he hissed lowly. He stilled, not moving a single muscle for several long moments. He didn’t know how much time passed. He could only track the passage of seconds and minutes in beats of his heart, in the throbs of his skull, in the way blood began to dry and itch on his skin, in the way pins and needles climbed up his hands to his wrists until numbness began to chase them from the very tips of his fingers.

He finally began to ease himself back until his back hit the wall, his bound hands pressing into his lower back. His shoulder popped again and he grimaced, gritting his teeth until the throbbing ache wasn’t so urgent on his mind. He curled his numb fingers until they pressed to his tingling palms because for a terrifying second, he thought they were gone. He felt sick and scared, jerking his arms one more time to no avail.

He was stuck. He knew he was stuck. He wondered if this was what animals caught in snares felt like, trapped, ready to bite off their own limbs. Maybe if he pulled hard enough, he could scrape off enough of his own skin to free his hands. He leaned forward again and grit his teeth.

If Steve was home, in his room, he could handle the quiet. He could handle the isolation. He could handle staring at his wallpaper and track the shadows on the wall. But there was nothing here, just the harsh lights above and the throbbing ache of his body. Just the ringing in his ears and the slow drying of his mouth, the flake of blood on his face. Just the knowledge that Robin was trapped here too. And Dustin and Erica were out there somewhere, he didn’t know if they were safe. He didn’t know how long it had been, didn’t know if he was losing his sense of self or what, but he needed out, he needed out of this room, needed something, anything more than this.

He let out a noise that he couldn’t hear, but he felt it scrape in his dry throat, felt it vibrate in his throbbing ribs. He wanted to scream, maybe he was. He wasn’t sure. He wanted Eddie, wanted Robin or Gareth or Grant or Jeff or Jonathan or Becca, someone, anyone. He’d take the fucking Russians if it meant there was more than just him and the gray walls.

The door swung open in the corner of his vision and he could just barely make out the now-familiar blur of Soviet uniforms. “I didn’t mean it,” he groaned, dropping his chin to his chest and squeezing his eyes shut. “Please. Please, I work for Scoops Ahoy, we just sell ice cream! I’m not a spy, I work for minimum wage and deal with people’s annoying kids, I’m not-”

Steve found himself blinking at the ceiling before he even processed the punch to the face. Oh god. Oh god, it was happening again, they wouldn’t fucking listen. He knew what it was like to not be listened to, but usually, it just ended up with him being bulldozed and not getting what he wanted or needed. He could handle frustration and anger just fine, but the pain was becoming a little much, was becoming too much.

He gagged as a fresh wave of hot, salty blood washed over the back of his tongue. He was never going to breathe through his nose again, was he?

He wasn’t sure if they were asking him questions between the blows to his torso and head anymore, but he babbled that he worked for Scoops and he wasn’t a spy and they needed to let him go, it hurt, it hurt, it HURT-

His eyes fell shut, eyelids fluttering, and he swore he just blinked for a second, but when he opened them again, his wrists weren’t tied behind him anymore. Instead, he was tied to a chair around his legs and chest, arms pinned to his sides. His wrists were bound, but not tight enough to cut off circulation and lower, away from his aching wounds. His fingers felt like they were on fire, like the blood was reaching them for the first time in…

Well, obviously he didn’t know how long. He flexed them a few times and stared at the harsh marks on his wrists, sluggishly seeping blood. The restraints had dug deeper than he thought. He cringed as he twisted his wrist. It hurt, but he could move it. He just needed to-

“Help!”

He could hear Robin over the ringing.

Robin?

“Help!”

He let out a breathy little groan. “Robin? Stop yelling, please…” The words slurred past his swollen lips.

“Steve!” He felt movement against his shoulders and oh- oh, he was tied to her, not just the chair. If he really focused, he could feel the tug of the restraints at his chest as she breathed and moved behind him. Good, that was good. She was here, she was alive. They hadn’t killed her. “Oh my god, what did they do to you?”

“Did they do anything to you?” Speaking felt hard, like the words were heavy. He cringed as he lifted his head to look around, straining to try and turn enough to see more than just a glimpse of her hair. It felt like something was going to pop when he tried to move his eyes all the way to the side. Like the pressure would keep building and building until it was too much and his eyes or his skull would give out. He didn’t know if they were in the same room as before or if they were all identical, but the possibilities seemed about equally likely to him. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine. I mean, not fine, they knocked me around, tried to get answers out of me, asked where I work, threatened me a lot..” She trailed off, she might have said more, but Steve couldn’t hear it. “But no, no, I’m fine, just tied up. So are you, though.”

“Yeah.” He flexed awkwardly and felt her gasp when he pulled hard at the restraints. “Not getting out like that,” he mumbled.

“They’re bringing a doctor! We’re gonna be… fine. We’ll be fine.” Her voice cracked. “So fine, right?”

“Right.” He didn’t think they’d really bring a doctor, but he didn’t want to tell her that. He leaned his head back, it felt like it weighed a million fucking pounds, until he could feel it press against hers. He took slow breaths and tried not to think about the taste in his mouth, a mix of blood and his own breath. The distant taste of his own puke. It was pretty fucking bad.

“Hey.” Her arm jerked against his. “Hey, Steve. See that table over there? To your right?” He looked. “No, no, other right.” He swiveled his head, and sure enough, there was a silver table. He hummed and she kept going. “Well, if we move at the same time, we can get over there, you kick the table and I can get the scissors on it.”

He squinted and could sort of make out a vague shape, but it blended into the surface too much. He trusted her though, if she said it was a pair of scissors, he believed it. “Okay. Yeah, yeah! What the hell were they thinking? Just leaving those right there? Goddamn morons.”

“Right? Morons!” He felt her arms tense up against his. “Ready? 1, 2, 3!”

“Hop on 3,” he mumbled to himself, putting all of his focus on his legs. They ached, but they were probably the least injured part of his body. The ache was probably from all the walking they’d done in the long, long corridors that would house his nightmares. He pushed down hard on 3, gasping when the chair moved under him. It worked. They were closer to the table, the glare off it harsher from the new angle. He squinted against it, shifting slightly as Robin’s head bumped against his. “Okay. Okay!”

“That worked!” Robin’s voice pitched up slightly. “Okay! 1, 2, 3!”

Again, he pushed down against the floor. He felt sick as the chair jolted, but it wasn’t like he had anything left to throw up anyway. He just grit his teeth and pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth. He’d breathe through his nose to try and stave off the nausea. But he was never breathing through his nose ever again, he fucking knew it.

Steve counted slowly with her the next time, trying to brace himself for the movement. It sucked, it sucked so bad, but they were so close. He had to grin and bear it, he was good at grinning and bearing. “1, 2, 3-” He let out a weak shout as the chair tipped over under him. Sparks lit up behind his eyelids and he let out a low groan. Strangely enough, though, he felt a little bit better like this. He slumped against the cold floor as much as he could, nuzzling his cheek against it. It felt good, staving off the pulsing warmth of his whole face. But then he felt the little jolts of Robin behind him. “Hey,” he rasped. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay.” It was okay to lie to make someone feel better about an impossible situation, right? “Don’t cry, Robin.”

The next sound she made was very distinctly not crying though.

“You’re- are you laughing?”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” He could sort of hear her giggles now. There were worse ways to cope, he supposed. He knew he’d laughed inappropriately at shit before. “I’m sorry, I just can’t believe I’m going to die with Steve goddamn Harrington in a secret Russian bunker!”

“We aren’t gonna die.” Steve didn’t know if he was lying now. Was it lying if you were just wrong? Maybe it wasn’t a lie? His head hurt. “You gotta let me think for a second, alright? We’re gonna… We’ve gotta get out of here.” Blood pooled in his cheek and he felt too weak to spit it out.

She kept talking and he couldn’t quite make out everything, even though he was really trying. It felt like he couldn’t think. Thoughts were just slipping through his fingers now as he racked his brain. But the only thing that could save them now was someone else. He couldn’t fix this, he just had to wait and hope and beg whatever was out there that a savior would come before it was too late for Robin.

Ideally before it was too late for him, too.

“But I just… it was weird to get to know you. To find out you’re just as deeply weird as the rest of us,” Robin was saying. “For so long, I thought you were just above it all somehow. That you didn’t have the same worries as the rest of us.”

“Nah.” Steve sighed. “I pretended a lot because I thought I had to. Gareth made me realize that there were people who could like me for the parts I tried so hard to keep under wraps.” He closed his eyes and leaned back as far as he could, ignoring the way it sent pain through his back. His shoulders pressed against Robin’s and he felt like he could breathe easier even though the position was making it harder to take full breaths. “Eddie’s little band of freaks doesn’t care, you know? We play our dice game and laugh and ignore what everyone else says. I just wish it hadn’t taken me so long. Maybe I had to wait for Gareth, you know? He’s gonna be a junior, that’s… he’s the same age I was when we met, that’s fucking crazy. It feels like I should’ve known him forever. Feels like I should’ve met you way sooner too…”

“Maybe we were supposed to meet like this. Maybe my mom and dad are right and it’s something cosmic.” He felt her sigh. “Maybe if we had met sooner, we would’ve worked somewhere else. Or I’d be working with some other schmuck.”

“I liked being your schmuck. While it lasted.”

He felt Robin tense before he saw a pair of boots walking up to them. He sighed and slumped down against the floor as much as he could, going slack against his restraints. He felt them being lifted back up, the chairs righted under them. He tried to be dead weight. If these assholes were going to kill him, he was going to at least make it a little inconvenient.

He felt himself whimper as the man who had been asking questions leaned down, getting too close to his face. Fear struck him like lightning and he tried to squirm away as the man’s hand touched his face, touched his hair. He tilted his head back, obviously unable to go anywhere. He knew the man was talking to him, but he wasn’t sure he was processing what was happening.

Before he knew it, he was crying out in pain and terror as a needle stabbed into his neck and drained something that absolutely fucking burned into him.

Chapter Text

Everything after the needle was a blur. Steve remembered new, awful pain in his hands, worse than the burning of cut off circulation, Dustin and Erica appearing and the terror that came with it, he remembered the elevator going backwards and the brief euphoria of fresh air. A movie that didn’t make sense and the realization of how painfully dry his mouth and throat were.

Steve hiccuped as he stared up at the ceiling. It was swaying, the lights leaving trails behind as they moved across his vision. “Woah…” It was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen, maybe only beat by Eddie’s eyes. God, he hoped Eddie was okay, he hadn’t seen him in who knows how long. He didn’t know what day it was now, what day it had been when they first got taken. Was it still the same day?

The lights swirled and blurred together, a little clearer when he closed his aching left eye. “Robin.” Her name sat heavy on his tongue, slurred as he reached out blindly behind him like she might be right there. “Robin, you gotta come look at this.”

Shuffled footsteps sounded like they were echoing, then a warm body pressed up against his, her chin tucking against his shoulder. “What are we- ohhh.” He could feel her hair tickling the side of his face as she turned her head upwards. “Woah, that’s so pretty…” She gripped his wrist weakly, somehow managing to avoid the bruising. He could feel that her middle finger was warm and swollen like it had been broken, but it curled around the side of his hand anyway. The lights kept swaying and the back of his throat burned a little.

Okay, it was burning more now. The lights were a giant swirl, his stomach turned and he made eye contact with Robin for just a second.

His knees ached as they hit the tiles of the bathroom. Distantly he wondered how long it had been since the bathroom had been cleaned, but another wave of nausea had him spilling his guts and forgetting about cleanliness concerns. His eyes burned the same as his throat, he was shaking, he could hear Robin’s gags and heaves just on the other side of the divider. He wanted to ask her if she was okay, but another wave of nausea had him ducking his head back down into the toilet.

Steve groaned, clutching his stomach as he tried to catch his breath. “Robin?” He sounded like he’d been gargling gravel. “Robin, are you okay?” The answer came in the form of a loud gag and splashing. His nausea cranked up again and he felt bile rising in his throat again, hot and burning. “Ugh.” His stomach lurched, popcorn and water rushing up in a sludge. It tasted a lot worse coming up.

The last thing he’d eaten before the elevator ride to hell was a few bananas swiped from Scoops. He’d been trying to be better about eating, but it was so hard. He couldn’t imagine he’d want to be eating much of anything anytime soon. He wiped aggressively at his eyes as they watered and almost whined as it aggravated his bruises. He heaved again, but nothing came up, his chest just lurched. He rested a hand on his stomach over his shirt as he retched, feeling the way his muscles rolled and twitched.

He gasped for breath and tried not to think about the smell coming from the toilet, tried not to look down at it. Another moment passed without any gagging and he sighed, sitting back on his heels.

He flushed the toilet and leaned against the stall wall, rubbing his aching eyes. He wanted to go home, the quiet would be merciful. The floors didn’t move at home and the walls weren’t wobbly. He had a nice bed where he could lay down. God, laying down sounded so nice. He let out a low sound, halfway between a whimper and a groan. “I want to go home,” he mumbled, hardly able to hear his own voice. Somewhere around the fifth hit to the head, his hearing had started to give out and it hadn’t recovered yet. “I want… Eddie.” He wanted to let himself fall to the floor fully and give up. He wanted to close his eyes and let his head hit the floor until the empty darkness pulled him under again, the emptiness that didn’t hurt, that was nothing and soothing and wasn’t too hot or too cold and just didn’t hurt. Another strained sound forced its way out as he tried to hug himself, ignoring the ache in his shoulders and his ribs and his lungs. “I want Eddie.” It was almost a whimper.

“Wha’ was that?” Robin’s voice was weak.

“Are you okay?” Steve let his head knock against the wall, closing his eyes as sparks danced behind his eyelids. “Robin, are you…” His voice trailed off, he didn’t quite know what he wanted to ask. He didn’t know if he had the words to ask anything.

He covered his mouth as he burped, a burning feeling as his stomach twisted. He wanted home so bad. Not the empty house, but Eddie’s arms. He wanted to curl up in a little ball and hide under the blankets as Eddie wrapped around him, protecting him from the pain. He wanted to bury his face in Eddie’s neck and hold onto him, hook his leg over Eddie’s hip to keep him as close as physically possible in his warm bed. Eddie was his home, he missed Eddie so much it hurt.

“I’m okay,” Robin groaned after another sickening gag. Steve tried to sit up, wanting to reach out to her, to hold her hand or touch her ankle or do anything remotely comforting. But his body just felt so heavy. He looked down at his arm, covered in hand shaped bruises, looking dark against his skin already. How long had they been down there?

His hands hurt so bad he didn't know if he’d be able to hold anything if he needed to. The bruises around his wrists were covered in dried blood, where his restraints had rubbed right through the skin. Two of his nails were broken, jagged lines diagonal towards the nail bed, more dried blood there from when they’d been oozing. Another was torn completely off and he wished he didn’t know what that looked like, wished he couldn’t see his own hands.

He tried to curl his fingers down towards the floor, but the pain was awful almost immediately. He choked on a groan, the noise coming out as a wheezed breath. Thank god he’d managed to graduate, he didn’t think he’d ever be able to write again, especially considering how badly his hands were shaking. He hoped they wouldn’t shake like that forever.

His vision blurred for a second and he thought he’d started crying, but it was just another wave of nausea. He dropped his head down, slimy yellow bile dripping off his tongue. He barely managed to get his head over the toilet again as he retched. His chest hurt even worse with each convulsion of his stomach.

Steve thought he might have blacked out from the pain, spots dancing across his vision. His hands clutched weakly at the sides of the toilet bowl as the latest wave of pain began to ebb. But he felt a tiny bit better, his stomach didn’t hurt so much anymore, it wasn’t throbbing against his other organs.

“Huh.” He let his eyes crack open as his back dragged against the wall. “The ceiling stopped spinning. What do you know?” He rubbed at his eyes as he felt the dizziness begin to wane. “Did it stop for you?” It hurt to breathe. His nose was clogged and broken and his ribs ached with every breath he pulled in, like a knife was sticking out of his side. He looked down, half expecting to see that, but only saw his sweaty work shirt.

“Yeah. Yeah, it did!” The echo made it hard to make out her voice, but he was able to decipher it well enough. “Holy shit!”

“Guess we puked it all up.” The surprised little laugh he let out made his head throb. He rubbed his eyes and sighed.

“Maybe. We should test it.” He heard her kick the dividing wall and then she was talking in a Russian accent. “Interrogate me.”

“Sure, yeah. Interrogate you.” Steve hummed. “When is… the last time you… peed your pants?”

“Today.” She answered almost immediately.

“Today?” He shifted to try and peek under the wall, catching a glimpse of her scribbled on converse and legs.

“Mhm. When the doctor took out the bone saw.” She let out a sharp laugh and made Steve grin, almost against his will. “It was just a little bit!”

Steve laughed even though it hurt. “Just a little bit? Yeah, we’re definitely still drugged.” He rubbed the side of his head and let out another couple of giggles, dropping his chin to his chest for a moment. “I think that means it’s your turn though.”

“Okay, okay.” Robin’s giggles began to ebb.

“Come on, hit me. Ask me whatever you want.”

“Okay. Um, whatever I want…” There were a few long moments of quiet, and Steve was starting to worry his hearing had completely given out or maybe Robin had passed out. “Oh! Okay, okay. Who is like, your real best friend?”

“Gareth, definitely Gareth.” Steve smiled tiredly, wrapping his arms around himself. “He’s like, this total little dweeb, you know? He’s so cool, and like, talented, and he was the first person to hang out with me after my life sorta collapsed, you know?”

Robin’s hand came slapping at the ground from under the divider between the stalls. “Oh my god. Wait, wait, wait.” She pulled herself into his stall, making him grimace.

“Ew, Robin, that’s the bathroom floor.” He reached out to help her get situated. “That’s so gross.”

“We’re covered in blood, dingus.” She held up the little ascot from her shirt and he could see that several of her fingers were swollen, almost certainly broken. “I wiped my mouth with this. It’s nasty. All of this is so nasty.”

Steve grimaced and pushed her arm away, noticing the bruises that matched his. Phantom hands wrapped around her skin, purpled and painful looking. “If it’s nasty, don’t put it near my face! It probably stinks.”

“Of course it stinks! We’re so gross,” she whined, leaning back against the divider. “You’re so gross. Like, grosser than usual. You’re usually a tiny bit gross, like a teensy little bit.” She held her fingers together and Steve could see they were held just a little apart.

“Gee, thanks.” He smiled even though it made his face ache and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “God, I miss my bed.”

Robin hummed, tapping her toes against the floor. “That fight with Byers, that was- was that because of all of the weird shit?”

“No. Yes?” Steve rubbed the side of his head and winced at the way dried blood pulled at his hair. “Kind of. I saw him with Nancy, they had been hunting the monster, and I assumed the worst. You know the rest. I keep taking hits to the head, it can’t be good for me.”

“When we get out of here, I’m dragging you to the library. We’ll read all the medical books, figure out what’s wrong with your head.”

“M’kay.” Steve looked at Robin and could feel his heart squeeze tightly. “You know… Gareth is really, really awesome and all but… I think maybe there’s someone else who could be my best friend too. Like, a second best friend, if I got to be lucky enough to have two best friends.”

Robin blinked at him then squinted. “Munson?”

“No, no, not Eddie. He’s… he’s something else. But there’s someone that I didn’t expect to become close to. Who helped me when she had no reason to, for something that she could’ve brushed me off about. And was… was worried about me when I thought she hated me. And never made fun of me because I have trouble reading and writing stuff… and made me laugh so hard this summer, like, constantly making me smile even when I felt like I couldn’t. The smartest person I know too, probably smarter than Eddie and Dustin and the rest of the nerds I hang out with. She’s like, crazy incredible and I’m… so glad she’s my friend.” The words had just tumbled out, but he was too tired to really feel embarrassed as he gazed over at Robin.

Robin was smiling faintly as she looked back at him, something reflected in her eyes that he couldn’t quite read. “She uh, she sounds pretty great, Steve. But I don’t know if you’d be her friend if you really knew her.”

“I think I know her pretty well. I mean, not to toot my own horn, but I did kind of get trapped in some crazy situations with her. Feels like you know a person after that.” He pulled his knees closer to his chest, even though it hurt, felt like the stabbing in his chest began to go deeper, he couldn’t breathe. “I think I want to be her friend no matter what.”

Robin let out a deep sigh. “Shockingly… I really like you. More than I thought I would, I have since we first hung out, since I helped you with that recipe book. Do you remember what I said? Down in the bunker?” Her voice was almost too quiet for him to hear.

Steve tried to compress himself even more to give her more space, but wheezed out a breath when it caused him to lose the air in his lungs. He shifted uncomfortably and leaned forward to hear her better. “You said a lot of things in the bunker, Robin. You ramble a lot.” He liked it though, he’d learned to enjoy the constant chatter that kept him from slipping too far into his own head, that had kept him from just giving in when he’d woken up tied to her.

“About being obsessed with you. In Mrs. Click’s class. It wasn’t because I was like, in love with you or anything like that. It’s because she wouldn’t stop staring at you.” She was looking down at the floor between them, her fingers tugging at the hem of her shorts.

Steve closed his left eye as he looked at her, frowning. He didn’t remember her saying anything about that, but he knew she’d said a lot he couldn’t hear. Wouldn’t stop staring at him? “Mrs. Click?”

“No. Tammy Thompson.” She finally lifted her gaze to meet Steve’s, and he noticed a streak of dried blood on her cheek that he hadn’t before. He reached out to brush it away, watching her cringe as his thumb pressed down against a small but wide gash across her cheekbone. “You were… you were late a lot, and it would grate on my nerves. And you’d bring food with you but half the time you didn’t even eat it, just picked it apart and left your desk a total mess! You asked all these questions that didn’t even make sense, like you couldn’t even read! And she couldn’t stop staring at you. I’d be so… so angry about it that I wanted to scream, that I did when I was at home. And you were… you weren’t an asshole anymore.” Robin let out a weak laugh. “You weren’t! You asked me to translate words for you and you drove me home from school and you weren’t a dick! And I almost wished you were sometimes.” She sighed.

“Tammy Thompson, huh?” Steve’s voice broke a little as he decided to ignore the rest of what she’d said. He’d felt so invisible in the months between the demogorgon and being swept up by Gareth, but Robin had noticed him. She’d seen more than anyone else had.

Robin was staring at him, eyes wet. She looked like she might cry. “Yeah. Tammy.”

“I mean… she’s cute and all, but she’s kind of a dud.”

“What?” Robin sat up straighter, jerking out a leg to kick him. He hissed, his whole body aching like one big bruise. “She is not!”

“She is!” Steve wiped under his nose, which still felt so clogged he couldn’t breathe. Dried blood flaked off against his hand. “She wants to be a singer, move to Nashville or some shit!”

“She has… she has dreams!” Robin was laughing now, she wasn’t upset, wasn’t about to cry.

“She’s tone-deaf, Robin! You need some taste, seriously! Have you heard her sing?” It took him a second to remember the song she’d always been singing in class, to remember all the way back to his junior year, and god, it shouldn’t take so long to remember something from a year and a half ago. “You see me now tonight… You see me more than ever…”

“Shut up!” Robin’s lip split as she grinned, fresh blood dribbling down her chin, overlapping with dried streaks. “She doesn’t sound like that!”

“She does! She sounds exactly like that!” He grabbed some toilet paper and reached over to try and wipe away the blood on her face. It was clumsy and his hand trembled enough that it took him a few tries to wipe away the fresh blood.

“Dingus, oh my god.” She sighed dramatically, but let him fuss over her. “You’re like, way worse off than I am.”

“I’m fine. I’ve had- well, I probably haven’t had worse, but this concussion probably isn’t as bad as the one from Billy Hargrove last year.”

She sighed, lightly closing her eyes. “You don’t sound anything like her.”

“I sound just like her.” He dabbed at her lip, which only bled more as she began to laugh.

“You sound like a muppet.”

“She sounds like a muppet!” Steve’s ribs hurt as he laughed, head tilting back as he tried to gasp in a breath. “She sounds like a muppet giving birth!”

Robin was cackling, bringing a hand up to her face. “No! Steve!”

“And if you could hold me tight!”

“We’ll be holding on forever!” They were both doing awful muppet impressions and Steve couldn’t breathe, but he couldn’t stop smiling either.

“Exactly, yes!”

They were still laughing when the door swung open, the sound of the door hitting the wall making his head throb. “Okay, what the hell?”

Dustin was standing there with Erica, glaring at them and it was… god, it was kind of funny. After all the time Steve had spent running after the kids, here was Dustin, glaring at him like a disappointed mother. Or, well, like his mother. He’d seen Claudia giving Dustin that same look when she caught him swearing. He laughed harder, wheezing in painful breaths as he bent forward on himself.

He didn’t know how long he and Robin sat there laughing, but eventually, Dustin was grabbing his wrist and pulling him to his feet. His stomach lurched and it felt like his head was way too heavy. “Jesus, Henderson, careful,” he grunted, nearly tipping forwards. He managed to keep himself standing and looked over in time to see Robin stumble into the wall. He snickered as she caught his eye, grinning as she stuck her tongue out.

“Eyes on your own balance,” she grumbled.

Dustin let go of him and moved to peek out of the bathroom and Steve shuffled along behind him, peering out curiously. He’d forgotten they were in the movie theater, and it was probably nothing short of a miracle that no one had walked in on him and Robin during their little… whatever that had been.

Dustin said something that Steve missed and then he was being yanked forwards, out of the bathroom. Someone knocked into him and he wheezed, keeping his head down as his ribs throbbed. Robin’s hand wrapped around his wrist again and he jerked in shock. Her fingers slid, gripping him tighter, right on the bruises. He tried to focus on Erica as she turned to say something to him, but then he bumped into Dustin, who had stopped in the middle of the hall.

“Ab-”

“What?” Steve blinked to try and clear his blurring vision.

“Abort!”

He nearly tripped as Dustin turned on his heel and pushed Robin, but he reached out and grabbed Erica’s arm and pulled her along as gently as he could. He didn’t fully know what they were running from, so he glanced over his shoulder and- yeah, okay, ominous guy in black clothing, definitely looked like he could be a part of the plot to end the world.

He was mostly running on instinct, knowing that if he thought too hard about anything he was doing, he’d trip and fall flat on his face. The last thing he needed was his head hitting anything or being hit by anything else. As he scrambled to his feet at the bottom of the escalators, he herded Erica forward to keep her and Dustin ahead of him.

Robin jerked her head and pointed to a small door between two stores, an entrance to the back corridors of the mall. The halls connecting all the back rooms. She dashed ahead in a surprising burst of speed and made frantic motions for Dustin and Erica to run ahead. Steve yanked the door shut behind them, taking just a moment to try and catch his breath. It was like reverse dry heaving, though, like air wasn’t reaching his lungs, getting lost somewhere in his throat.

He stumbled forward, doing his damn best to stay upright as Robin hurried ahead to catch up with the kids. He let out a low groan and picked himself up, running after her.

Eventually, they found the back door leading into one of the stores in the food court and crept in to hide behind the counter. Erica peeked up over the counter and her expression twisted. “Commies.”

Robin pulled her down, sitting with her back against the counter. She held a finger to her lips and Steve just tried to shrink down on himself more. He covered his mouth as he wheezed, trying to keep himself silent. He watched as Erica pressed herself against Robin, watched as Robin cringed in pain but held Erica close. He reached out towards Dustin, flinching as he squeezed a little too hard.

Dustin’s hand wrapped around his wrist and he could feel his pulse racing. He could only hear the ringing in his ears, but judging by the look on Robin’s face, she could hear the footsteps of the Russians out in the lobby. Dustin gripped his wrist tighter and it looked like he was about to cry.

Then there was a blaring that even Steve could hear. He jolted and if his tongue didn’t feel so heavy, he probably would have let out a surprised yell. A loud crashing and Dustin was turning to peek over the counter, Robin and Erica following his lead. His vision was still blurry, but he felt an odd sense of dread as he stared at the carnage. Overturned tables, a smashed car, and bodies, the Russians that had been chasing them down since the movie theater. “What the…”

Dustin smacked his arm, which, ow, but it drew his gaze upwards, where an El-shaped blur was standing at the upstairs railing. And with her were the other kids and Nancy and Jonathan and… “Eddie!”

He launched himself over the counter despite his aching body’s protests, letting out a sharp wheeze as his feet hit the floor. He could hear Dustin yelling behind him, but he couldn’t make out the words and he frankly didn’t care. It hurt to smile, he could feel his bottom lip splitting again, but Eddie was running down the escalator, practically tripping over himself.

“Stevie.” Eddie’s hands were cool against his face and Steve was all but melting. “Steve, what the hell happened? Who did this? Where have you been?”

All Steve could do was push forward to hug him. “Eddie.” He held on as tight as he could, digging his fingers into Eddie’s shirt and gripping, even though it fucking hurt. “Eddie, you’re here. You’re… you’re here.” He winced as Eddie’s hand brushed over a sore spot, pushing himself back. “You’re here. What the fuck are you doing here?” He looked at the kids and Jonathan and Nancy. “What is he doing here? Does he… does he know?”

“I know.” Eddie cupped Steve’s cheek again, pulling his gaze. “I was keeping an eye on them like I promised. And things got out of hand. I know what’s going on.” There was a sadness in his eyes that almost made Steve break, the tightness in his chest making him wheeze. It could have been broken ribs too, he was pretty sure he had at least one broken rib. “They told me, they told me that you’ve… everything that’s been going on. You’ve been fighting monsters and… they told me about how you really got that concussion last year and… Jesus H Christ…”

Steve blinked hard, his vision blurring more as he fought tears. He couldn’t think of anything to say, but Eddie was here, the person he needed to see more than anyone. Eddie was here, but he was involved now, he was in danger. He was going to break if he didn’t do something to stop it. So he leaned in and kissed Eddie, still gripping his shirt. His lips were bloody and it hurt, but he needed the reassurance that he was here and this was real. That he wasn’t still trapped in a drugged haze.

“Steve,” Eddie whispered, blood smeared across his mouth as he broke the kiss. “Steve, who hurt you?”

“Steve!” Dustin was staring at them wide eyed. “Are you- wait- Eddie?”

Steve cleared his throat, looking down at the ground. “I didn’t think this through, did I?” Robin was staring with wide eyes and she pointed at him silently. He slowly nodded and tugged at the hem of his shirt. “Um, yeah. Me and Eddie are together, have been since December.” He rubbed his cheek and shifted his weight, but his eyes weren’t tearing up anymore. He sucked in a breath, ignoring the way it made it feel like a hot knife was being shoved into his ribs.

“Steve. Steve, I never had a crush on Max.” Dustin was approaching him. “I never wanted to impress her with Dart. I was trying to impress Lucas.”

“Oh!” Steve blinked as it clicked into place. “That… that explains so much.”

“I had no idea you were like me.” Dustin ran over to hug him and Steve was relieved when he did it gently, slowing so he didn’t crash into him.

“It’s not exactly something I’m open about.” He put a hand on the back of Dustin’s head to hold him close for a long moment. “You too, huh?”

Dustin nodded, Lucas watching with wide eyes. “Wait, you had… a crush on me?”

Dustin buried his face against Steve’s chest. “...kinda.”

“Huh. Cool.” Lucas looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. “That’s cool, man.” Steve’s legs were shaking, but he held himself up through the ache, took off Dustin’s hat and dragged his fingers through his curls. Lucas looked over at Erica. “Wait, what the hell are you doing here? You’re supposed to be at Tina’s!”

“What the hell am I doing here?” Erica put her hands on her hips, pointing at Robin and Steve. “Blame them!”

Steve winced. “Yeah, okay, technically our fault.” God, the shame was hot in his chest and he held onto Dustin tighter, guilt making him feel heavy and tired. He felt like he could drown in it. Eddie was tangled up in this mess, now. So was Erica, practically a baby. She’d kill him if she knew he thought that, but she was so young, had seen too much already.

Robin rubbed her eyes, looking over at the now smashed car. “Wait, what happened to that car?”

“El threw it with her mind.” Will looked over at Robin curiously. “I mean, I assume she’s a part of this now?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m a part of this now.” Robin let out a long breath. “I‘m a part of this madness.”

Erica looked over at El. “So you’re the El that Lucas won’t shut up about?”

Robin leaned in close to Steve and pointed. “That one is El?” He nodded.

“Who are you?” Nancy’s voice was a little too accusatory for Steve’s taste, but he attributed that to the ringing that was flooding his senses.

“I’m Robin. I work with Steve.”

“She cracked the code,” Dustin chimed in.

Steve’s head was starting to ache again, a pounding against his temples. He wiped blood from his mouth, wiping his hand on his already horribly soiled shirt. “Which is how we found the Russians.”

“Russians?” Hearing Eddie and Jonathan say something in unison was a weird experience.

He shook off the thought and gestured to the bodies in the wake of the crashed car. “The Russians!”

“Those guys were Russians?” Max took a step forward, shooting Steve an appraising look, her lip curling as her eyes met his.

“Some of them.”

Lucas covered his face for a second before narrowing his eyes at Erica. “What are you talking about?”

Dustin held up his walkie, shaking it. “Didn’t you hear our code red? Russians, the gate?”

“We couldn’t understand a thing you were saying!” Mike threw his hands in the air.

“Goddamn low battery.”

Steve groaned and crossed his arms and resisted the urge to gasp in a breath at the pain the movement caused. Dustin and the fucking batteries. “What have I told you about the battery?”

“It worked out, didn’t it?”

“Worked out?” Erica shoved Dustin’s arm. “We almost died!”

Steve ignored the horrified look Eddie shot at him, he didn’t have the time to unpack that right now. He let the kids keep arguing and rubbed his forehead. Dustin was going on and on about something, but his head felt full of fog. He felt like his body was starting to give out, the drugs and the exhaustion catching up to him.

Then he saw movement out of the corner of his eye, head snapping up as El collapsed.

Mike was the first to start running, Max and Will hurrying to her side right behind him. Jonathan was kneeling by her head by the time Steve got his legs to start moving again. “El!” Mike’s voice rose above the panic and the ringing. “El! What’s wrong? What happened?”

She sobbed something, then Jonathan and Nancy were unwrapping bandages from her leg. It looked terrible, bloody and oozing and- and moving.

Eddie gagged and turned away, Steve could feel the way his body lurched. El shrieked, grabbing out blindly until her hand found Max’s. “There’s something in there!” Mike shifted back, looking horrified, Steve unable to tear his eyes away from the something that writhed inside of El’s leg. Eddie looked over for just a second before tearing his gaze away again with a dry heave.

“Keep her awake, keep her talking!” Jonathan got up and began to sprint away, Will scooting into the space he’d left.

“El, hey, hey, look at me, okay?” Will reached to tap El’s cheek as she sobbed, drawing her gaze. “You’re gonna be okay, Jonathan definitely knows what he’s doing, he’s gonna help, you’re going to be fine.” She just kept crying, but reached out for his hand, squeezing it tight.

“Get her- get her on her side.” Dustin shifted, sliding himself across the floor, and god, Steve didn’t know if this was going to end well.

He followed Dustin’s lead though, Nancy and Max on El’s other side as they got her rearranged. She ended up laying back against Mike, reaching out for Will again with a pained cry. “It’s not that bad, actually!” When Robin spoke up, for a horrible minute, Steve thought the drugs were kicking back in. “There was this girl on my, uh, on my soccer team? Beth Wildfire, and she broke her leg when some other girl slid into her.” She flapped her hands a few times, looking on the verge of panic. “The bone came out of her knee-” Eddie gagged again and it sounded wet, like he was actually throwing up.

“Robin. Please.” Steve gave her a pleading look. “Not- not helping.”

“Right. Right, yeah. I’m sorry.”

Thank god for Jonathan Byers, he came running back with-

A huge knife in one hand. He knelt down at El’s feet, putting a hand on her ankle. “This is going to hurt like hell. I need you to stay still.” He kept his voice even and calm, even as El’s sobs picked back up. But she nodded, holding Max’s hand so tight the other girl winced. Jonathan pulled on gloves and held a wooden spoon to El’s mouth. “You’ll want to bite down on this.”

Steve finally put all the pieces together and swung himself so he was looking at Eddie. “Eddie, don’t-” He was already getting up. Steve watched as he went to the nearest trash can and bent down, gagging again. Steve’s stomach churned in sympathy.

El’s screams and groans of pain became louder, and when Steve turned back, she had her eyes squeezed shut and was clamping her jaw down on the spoon. She stayed still, but was clearly in agony. He kept his eyes on her face, not sure he’d be able to keep from throwing up like Eddie if he looked down.

Dustin had taken Will’s place, clutching El’s hand as he watched Jonathan with horror. He and Mike supported her as she wailed, her cries picking up in volume as everyone watching let out a chorus of horrified gasps and groans. Will looked ready to burst into tears as he reached out to grip Mike’s sleeve. Steve’s stomach churned as the sound of- of whatever the fuck Jonathan was doing managed to grow loud enough to be heard.

He didn’t look down. All of the kids looked like they were crying now and Eddie was still retching.

Suddenly El sat up, spitting out the spoon. “Stop it!” She panted, letting out a few more pained sobs. “Stop it!” She panted for breath, pushing herself to sit up with Mike and Dustin’s help. “Stop. I- I can do it.” Steve and Dustin made brief eye contact before looking in opposite directions. “I can… I can do it.” She reached out and Steve covered his ears, knowing he wouldn’t be able to take it if he heard anything else.

El cried out a few more times and it felt like forever as she sobbed next to him. He was caught off guard when the giant window display shattered in front of him, eyes widening as he stared at the falling glass. He knew a few pieces hit him, one or two leaving shallow cuts, but he hardly felt it.

Her screams finally stopped and it felt like he could breathe again as he finally looked at her. Her nose was bloody and her face was streaked with tears. He followed her gaze to see Hopper and Joyce standing with two unfamiliar men.

Well, one of the men looked a little familiar. Steve was pretty sure he’d been around at Barb’s funeral. Though he had been concussed, so he wasn’t sure if he was remembering that right. Jonathan took off the plastic gloves and helped El to her feet, motioning for Will to support her other side. They helped her stumble her way to Hopper, who hugged her, a hand supporting the back of her head as she started to cry again, tucking her face into his shoulder.

Eddie shuffled back over, using the collar of his shirt to wipe his mouth. “What the fuck was any of that?”

“Welcome to my world.” Steve closed his eyes and tucked his head against Eddie’s shoulder. “Welcome to my fucking world, Eds.”

“I’m so sorry you were dealing with this all alone. I mean, I knew you had secrets, you’re terrible at being subtle-”

“Hey.”

“-but monster fighting wasn’t exactly on my list of guesses.” Eddie kissed the top of his head. “Who are those guys with the Chief and Mrs. Byers?”

“The bald one is Murray Bauman.” Nancy stepped up to stand on Steve’s other side. “He’s a private investigator, he helped me and Jonathan get out the fake story about Barb’s death being caused by Hawkins Lab.”

“Was it not Hawkins Lab?”

“It was, sort of, technically.” Steve blinked his eyes back open. “But it was no chemical leak. It was a monster, it took her from my pool.”

“Oh. Oh. Oh my god, Stevie.” Eddie looked at him with wide eyes. “That’s why you never go in the pool?”

“He doesn’t?”

Steve shifted under the weight of their combined gazes. “Yes. I haven’t gone in since that night, okay?” He shoved his hands in his pockets, regretting it immediately when one of his torn nails caught on the seam. “Shit.”

It had started bleeding again and he clutched his hand to his chest. Eddie reached for it and looked ready to be sick again. “Your hands…”

“It’s fine, Eddie.”

“None of this is fine!” Eddie clutched Steve’s hand, loosening his grasp when he hissed out in pain. “Sorry. But… you got beaten half to death for what, exactly?”

“I told you, it was the Russians.” He didn’t want to talk about it, didn’t want to think about it at all. If he thought about it too long, he was going to start throwing up again. He rubbed his face, grimacing at the way his skin was tacky with sweat. “Come on. This isn’t over, we need to be ready for whatever comes next.” Steve didn’t let go of Eddie’s hand and tugged him along where the others were convening in the food court. The kids were here, Eddie was here…

He needed to be strong.

He didn’t know how many hours had passed, but it was all an exhausted, painful blur. The asphalt was hot, Steve could feel it through his shoes. He could feel the heat of the fire behind him as the mall blazed, crackling as parts of it began to collapse. Max was heavy in his arms as she clung to his shoulders and wept into his neck, but he hardly felt her weight.

He passed her off to Nancy, who seemed to be mostly uninjured, though her eyes darted frantically as she got Max to her feet and held her tightly. El had one arm around Mike and the other around Will as she hopped over to hold Max, whispering to her.

“Steve?” Robin’s voice was very far away. When he turned to face her, swaying on his feet, she was looking at him worriedly, but all he could see were her bruises, the injuries on her face, the swelling of her cheek, her broken fingers. A new bruise was on her forehead, a slight gash in the middle of it, sluggishly oozing blood. He vaguely remembered the way she had pitched forward when he slammed into Billy’s car.

Bile rose up in his throat again, but he was empty. He had nothing left to throw up, but his stomach seemed to squeeze anyway. He could hardly lean forward to let it dribble out of his mouth. He wasn’t sure how he was staying on his feet, how he was keeping himself from collapsing onto his knees. His teeth hurt. His head hurt so bad that it made his teeth hurt.

There was shouting that Steve could just barely make out. When he turned, he saw Murray and Hopper, both looking shell shocked. The Russian man, Steve couldn’t remember his name, clutched his side and hurried to Murray, lips moving in frantic speech. Murray said something in return and Hopper covered his face.

Steve understood what was going on when Will let out a horrified sob, wrapped in a blanket on the back of an ambulance. He collapsed against Jonathan and screamed. Jonathan’s lips moved slowly, a quiet question that Steve couldn’t hear, but he could understand perfectly. “She’s… gone?”

Steve’s knees gave out, but before he could hit the ground, arms wrapped around him. A hand pulled his head to the curve of a neck. Eddie. It was Eddie, he would know the body pressed to his anywhere. And Steve choked. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t- he was sobbing.

He let out pained, anguished noises as it all finally settled against him. As the weight of the world crushed down against him and left him broken, shattered, empty after containing too much for far too long. His hands clutched Eddie’s shirt tightly as he wept, searching for something that could keep him grounded, but only finding pain.

The fingers in his hair were the closest thing to nirvana he’d ever felt, pulling a weak whine from the back of his throat. All his weight was pressed against Eddie, his legs couldn’t hold him anymore. He hardly noticed when his knees hit the ground, didn’t realize they scraped. The pain was starting to feel distant, his ragged breaths getting shallower and shallower until he thought his chest was collapsing in on itself. Eddie was tapping his cheek, trying to draw his attention, but Steve could hardly feel it, he couldn’t hear anything. He could only sob, purging the agony that had begun to feel like it belonged.

Joyce was gone, she was gone. Billy was dead, he had died in front of the kids, the kids, fuck.

“The kids,” he wheezed, pushing his hands weakly against Eddie’s chest. He hiccuped, a sob catching in his throat. “Eddie, the kids, are they-”

“They’re safe, okay? You kept them safe, they’re all safe, you protected them, Stevie.” Eddie’s voice was almost too quiet for him to hear over his own sounds. Steve tried to choke back the sobs, tried to focus on Eddie’s voice. Eddie. Eddie was here, he needed to focus on Eddie.

“Are you hurt?” Steve wiped frantically at his face, the tears feeling like they were burning into his skin. He couldn’t remember the last time he allowed himself to cry, but now he couldn’t imagine ever being able to stop. His chest hurt so bad, like something had gone wrong, like his ribs were crushed, misshapen and too tight around his lungs. He wanted to go home.

“No, no, I’m okay.” Eddie was crying too, oh god, oh god, what was Steve doing? His boyfriend was crying and he couldn’t even breathe, he couldn’t- “Stevie-”

“I’m fine.” Steve cringed as he wheezed out a breath, bringing up a hand to claw at his throat. Something had to be pulled tight around his neck, that had to be what was keeping him from breathing. Another sob ripped through his aching body and he couldn’t hold himself up anymore. He collapsed forward into Eddie’s chest. “I’m fine,” he choked out, trying to tell himself more than anything. He needed to be fine, needed to pull himself together. This was embarrassing, but another sob tore from him, from somewhere deep inside him that had been locked away for years and left him feeling small and scared.

His wrist was tugged until he wasn’t scraping his nails against his throat. A hand cupped the back of his head and it felt like some of his broken pieces were being dragged towards each other again. His head tucked into the curve of Eddie’s neck and he wailed. The sounds he made were hardly human and he couldn’t hear himself anymore. Eddie was saying something, he could feel the vibrations in his throat, but he couldn’t hear.

He couldn’t hear anything, he needed… the kids, were they safe? What if the Russians came back? What if they got Robin or Dustin or Erica again? They’d gotten Joyce, they’d killed her, he already knew it, he could see it in Hopper’s face. He wept harder, because that was Will’s mom. Jonathan’s mom, and she was gone. She had been the only adult aside from Hopper that the kids could talk to about it all, she had given Hopper advice for El, she had invited Steve for dinner from time to time or offered to let him stay the night when he watched Will until it was late. She had been the one who didn’t give up on Will after everyone thought he died.

And now she was just gone? How was that fair? If anyone should have died in that fucking bunker…

It should have been him.

With one more choked, desperate wheeze, finally, mercifully, Steve’s eyes slid shut and everything went dark.

Chapter Text

“Jonathan.” Hopper’s gruff voice dragged Steve from the haze of sleepiness, but he didn’t have the energy to open his eyes, just nuzzled his aching face against his pillow and listened to the creaking of the shitty plastic chair as Hopper sat. At least, he assumed the chair was shitty plastic. It sure sounded like it.

“Hm?” Jonathan’s voice was low, coming from towards the end of the hospital bed.

“We need to have a talk. About… about you and Will.”

“We aren’t going to Lonnie. I’m… I’ll do whatever I have to do, but it’s not safe there, not for Will. I’ll get a place, I’ll take him in, we can’t-”

“I know. I’m not sending you to him. Joyce… your mom and I… we got some paperwork sorted out back in spring. Just in case something happened to one of us.” He let out a long sigh and Steve could feel the tension in his voice. “It was supposed to be a precaution, but… you and your brother are going to go into my custody. You won’t even have to move. The paperwork is sorted out, it’s all… logistics.”

“She… you’d take us in?” Jonathan’s voice wavered, his breaths sharp. “What about-”

“Everything is going to be taken care of, I promise. You don’t need to worry, it’s not your job to worry. Right now, you need to focus on… on getting better. On processing your grief. You’re 17, Jonathan. It’s not your responsibility.”

“Oh.”

“I want to know what you need, okay? Not what Will needs, not what you think I need, what you need.”

“What… what if I don’t know what I need?” Jonathan sounded close to tears, voice cracking harshly.

“Then we’re going to figure it out together. It’s going to be a lot of adjustment, things are… they’ll never go back to how they were, but I’m not going anywhere, alright?”

“Yeah… yeah, I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do now.” There was a quiet sob and Steve finally forced his eyelids open against the harsh lights, tilting his head to get a good look at Jonathan, who was sitting in a wheelchair with a hand covering his eyes.

“Y’re not al’ne,” he grit out, tongue feeling heavy in his mouth, but getting a little lighter with each word he forced. “You aren’t… we’re gonna be there for you, man.”

Jonathan sniffled and looked over at him, blinking a few times. “How long have you been awake?”

Steve just grunted, shifting to lay on his back, trying to sit up. “I heard, ow, fuck, everything. Sorry.” He clutched his chest as he struggled before flopping back down. “I give up, ’m going back to sleep.”

Jonathan huffed out a quiet laugh, wheeling himself to the side of the bed. “Hey. Uh, thanks. It’s been a long couple of days.”

Steve rubbed his eyes, smacking his lips as he realized how dry his mouth felt. “How long have I…?”

“It’s been two days since the, uh, fire. You’ve been awake a couple of times, but after you collapsed in the parking lot, you’ve mostly been asleep.”

Hopper helped Steve sit up, holding a cup of water to his lips. “You had a collapsed lung, kid. No idea how you were able to cry that much.”

Steve flushed, lifting a shaking hand to hold the cup for himself, but nearly dropped it. Hopper hadn’t let go, just urged Steve to drink more. “Eddie’s gonna be pissed. Is… is he okay?”

“Munson is fine. Few burns on his hand from launching fireworks and a black eye from defending the kids, but he’s in good shape. Much better shape than you.”

“Way to boost a guy’s confidence, chief.” He leaned back with a tired sigh. “Robin? Is she okay?”

“She’s okay. She was discharged this morning, but it sounds like she’ll be back before too long. Was pretty worried about you.”

Steve nodded, eyelids feeling heavy. “Why am I so tired?”

“You’re on a lot of medication. It’s why you’re not feeling any pain.”

“Huh.” Steve looked down at his hands and the bandages that wrapped around his fingers. He turned his heavy head towards Jonathan. “Who else is hurt?”

“El had to get her leg stitched up and she’s pretty freaked out right now.” Jonathan fidgeted with his hands. “Nancy’s wrist was sprained pretty bad. I uh… I’ve got a couple cracked vertebrae.”

“Jesus.” Steve frowned and leaned back tiredly, just watching Jonathan for a long moment. “The rest of the kids?”

“Scrapes and bruises. Nothing severe. Just the… you know, the trauma.” He cringed and his expression mirrored Steve’s own exhaustion. “That explains why a mall was built in a shitty town like this.” There was a tone of bitterness to Jonathan’s voice. “It was a front.”

“I can’t believe they were trying to open a gate. I thought only El could do that.”

Hopper grimaced. “Yeah. Well, that was one hell of a machine.”

“I need a new job.” Steve rubbed his palms over his eyes, ignoring the dull pain of it. The IV was probably keeping it from being unbearable. “Fuck, what am I supposed to do?” He looked at his hands and grit his teeth in frustration at the way they shook. “Goddamnit,” he hissed, letting the frustration burn in his already hurting chest. It was easier than sitting there and what? Processing what had happened to him?

“Jesus, easy there, man.” Jonathan reached out and lightly touched the back of his hand. “Give yourself a while to get back on your feet.”

“I don’t have time,” he groaned. Steve rubbed his face again, ignoring the way it stung, the way his wrists fucking hurt when he bent them. Then it hit him. “Wait, shit, I’m 18 now. I can…” But the medical bills would be a nightmare. “Wait, I’ve been here two days?” His head felt mixed up and he kind of wanted to cry again. “I can’t afford any of this.”

“You don’t need to worry about medical bills, alright? The lab is going to cover it, more than just cover it. I’m making sure of it.” Hopper clapped him on the shoulder and Steve cringed, looking down at the tube hanging out of his side.

“What is-“

“You had a collapsed lung, remember? That fixed it, it should be coming out soon.”

“It hurts,” he complained. He leaned back against the pillows and groaned. “This sucks.”

“It’s gonna suck. What the hell happened to you, man?” Jonathan pulled Steve’s hands away from his face with a frown. Steve blinked slowly at him and grimaced when he saw a smear of red on his hands. He touched his cheek, finding a bleeding gash. “Erica said you and Robin were down there for a whole day.”

“Is that how long it was?” Steve laughed weakly and closed his eyes, feeling like the room was spinning. He’d moved way too fast. “Oh shit,” he breathed out, making a wet noise. “Hopper-” His stomach lurched and Jonathan helped him lean forward as Hopper held a bedpan over his lap. Not much came up, just the water he’d sipped and burning bile. “Fuck,” he groaned, trying to grip the sheets. His hands felt clumsy and he hiccuped, gagging again. “I can’t-”

“Just try and breathe,” Jonathan said quietly, rubbing his back. “You’re alright, it’s okay.”

Another long moment passed with his stomach lurching. He took a few deep breaths and slowly leaned back. “‘M good,” he mumbled, closing his eyes. “I’m done throwing up, I think.”

Hopper let him lay back down. “You can’t catch a break, can you?”

“None of us are catching any breaks.” Steve pulled the pillow out from under his head and covered his face with it. He was dizzy and exhausted, everything hurt. He wanted Eddie. Or Gareth, or Robin. Nothing against Jonathan or Hopper, but he kind of wanted to cry when he looked at them. He was trying not to think about Joyce, about what losing her was going to mean. He had a lot of questions, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to ask them, not yet. He let out a heavy sigh, ignoring the way it made his ribs feel like they were going to explode.

A nurse came in and asked questions, he did his best to answer and cringed back as she shined a light in his eyes. She explained everything that was wrong with him and he nodded along, doing his best to follow. He hoped they’d give him a paper with everything written down, though, his head felt like a colander. He’d be able to sign himself out soon, but Hopper cut in and told him he’d have to speak with someone from the government first. He felt lightheaded again, thinking about the paperwork he’d have to read and sign. He let out a faint groan. “I just want to go home,” he griped.

“You’ll get out of here soon, alright? There are things that need to be taken care of first, but you’ll get out of here.” Steve just let out a grumpy little noise and laid down with a sigh that hurt.

He was planning the little nest he’d make himself when he got home, he knew that there were some soft blankets stashed away in the downstairs closet. He was supposed to leave those be, they were for guests. But they hadn’t had guests in years and his parents hadn’t been home since a weekend in March, they wouldn’t know. He’d cover the couch in blankets and lay in them with the air conditioning turned up, he had a clean load of clothes in the laundry room. He wouldn’t have to brave any stairs if he wasn’t feeling up to it. He didn’t know if there was food in the kitchen, he couldn’t remember, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever want to eat again with how awful he felt.

Another few moments passed and Steve felt about ready to doze back off. Jonathan had closed his eyes, seemingly asleep in his wheelchair, and Hopper was watching the door with his arms crossed over his chest. His heart jumped when he heard a familiar voice from down the hall. He tried to sit up, but that wasn’t happening as easy as he wanted it to.

“Stevie.” Eddie stood in the doorway with wide eyes. “You’re awake. You’re awake!” He hurried up to Steve, reaching out to cup his face. “You scared us all pretty bad, sweetheart.”

Steve closed his eyes and tilted his head into the touch. “Hi Eds.” Eddie’s hand was cool against his cheek, more comfortable than any pillow he’d ever laid on. “I’m sorry I-”

“No. No, none of that, baby. No apologies.” Eddie leaned in to kiss his forehead. “I’m so glad you’re awake.” He looked over at Hopper, who had politely averted his eyes. “Did you get ahold of his parents?”

Steve cringed and leaned forward until his head was against Eddie’s shoulder. “No,” Hopper said, a string of tight tension in his voice. “Tried every number I could, just got a secretary who said she’d pass along a message.”

“Mother will call back,” Steve mumbled. “Eventually. They get… busy, you know? It’s not a big deal, I’m 18 now, I don’t need them.”

“I heard you missed your birthday, son.” Steve looked up at Wayne’s gruff voice. “This one here wanted to make you cupcakes. I was expecting to come home to a burned down kitchen, instead I end up getting a call that he was at the burned down mall.”

Steve blushed, looking down at Eddie’s hands, one of them bandaged carefully. He put his hand out, looking at the way they matched. He couldn’t help his pathetic little smile. “It’s not a big deal. I don’t celebrate it anyway.” He loosely held Eddie’s hand. “Besides, I’m fine.”

Wayne looked down and Steve followed his gaze to the chest tube. “I don’t think I believe that.”

“Wayne, step outside with me for a minute?” Hopper got up and left the room, Wayne following close behind.

Eddie stroked Steve’s hair back and smiled sadly. “You’re going to stay with me and Wayne for a little while, okay?”

“What? No. No, I can’t do that. I’ll be totally fine at home.” Steve wanted that though. He loved the Munsons’ trailer, with the comfy couch, the mugs and hats on the wall, Eddie’s cozy bed… But he didn’t want to put them out, not when he wasn’t sure he’d be able to earn his keep. The idea of getting out of the bed made him feel kind of sick, he wasn’t sure he’d be up to do much of anything for awhile.

“What? No you won’t. If I let you go home, you’re going to lay on the couch and suffer alone. You won’t take your meds or drink enough water or eat enough, if you actually eat at all. If you stay with me, I can take care of you, make sure you’re actually healing.”

Steve’s eyes started to water when Eddie cupped his face. Of course he’d already figured out his plan, Eddie knew him too well at this point. “Eddie-” He had to clear his throat, blinking hard to keep himself from crying. “...okay,” he whispered. “As long as it’s okay with Wayne.”

“If it’s okay with him? Baby, he insisted.” Eddie kissed his forehead again after glancing back towards the door. “Listen, I talked to the guys yesterday. They’re going to show up at some point to check in on you. Gareth already knew, I guess his mom told him about what happened at the mall as soon as he got home. I’m actually surprised he hasn’t-”

“No, I’ve waited long enough, okay?” Gareth’s sharp voice cut Eddie off.

“Speak of the devil,” Eddie joked.

Steve looked past Eddie and smiled weakly when he saw Gareth nudge past Hopper, expression set. “Steve!” Gareth practically shoved Eddie aside in his rush. “God, is this what happens when I go out of town?”

Steve laughed and reached out to him. He couldn’t pull him in, even with the medicine running through his system, the pain was too intense for that, but he hugged Gareth as tight as he could. “Hi,” he mumbled. “It’s not my fault the mall burned down.”

“I’m not blaming you!” Gareth just about squawked. “Man, I’m gonna be used to seeing you all banged up at this rate.” He studied Steve’s face a moment. “Stick out your tongue.” He frowned when Steve did as he asked. “You bit your tongue again!”

“Okay, but… barely. I didn’t mean to, obviously, it just happened when I- when something fell on me.” Steve wasn’t sure what the cover story was going to be, but the mall had definitely been burning down.

“Of course you didn’t mean to. I’m not saying you- it’s whatever man.” Gareth sighed softly. “I’m glad you’re okay.” He looked over at Eddie, frowning at his black eye, the edges yellower than Steve remembered. “You’re looking a little better too.”

“Thanks. I think.” Eddie sighed. “Steve’s gonna get out of here soon, right?”

“Yeah, Hopper said there’s more to take care of, but I want to get out of here.” He looked over when Jonathan let out a faint laugh. “What?”

“You’ve been awake for less than a half hour and you can’t wait to get out of here?” Jonathan gave him a tiny smile. “Some of us have been awake the whole time.”

“You’re clearly not being confined to a bed!”

“I can sit up without puking.” Jonathan actually smiled this time and Steve felt like he was doing something right.

The smile fell as Gareth spoke up. “Jonathan, hey man. I uh, I heard about your mom. I’m so sorry.”

“Uh…” Jonathan blinked a few times as his expression fell, eyes getting wet. “Thanks.” He brought up a hand to cover his face, taking a deep breath. “It’s… been a long couple of days.”

Eddie swatted Gareth’s shoulder. “Do you get out of here soon, man?”

“Yeah.” Jonathan cleared his throat. “Yeah, I should get out tomorrow. Until my back heals, I’m stuck with this thing.” He pulled up his shirt to reveal a brace made of metal wrapped around his torso.

Eddie leaned down to get a better look and let out a low whistle. “That thing is… it doesn’t look comfortable.”

Jonathan shrugged. “They’ve got me on some good painkillers. It could be connected to my bones and I’m not sure I’d notice.”

Steve eyed Jonathan with a frown. “Where, uh, where has Will been staying? How’s he doing?”

“He’s with Nance and Mike for the moment. I guess… we’ll be going back home soon.” He wrapped his arms around himself and stared down at the blankets on Steve’s bed.

“Do you not want that…?”

“Just feels like… I don’t know. It’s going to feel wrong when she’s… when she’s not there.” Jonathan let out a trembling breath and covered his eyes. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

Eddie stepped around the bed and gave Jonathan’s shoulder a firm squeeze. “Hey. You don’t need to apologize. It’s… it’s gonna hurt really bad for a long time, I’m not telling you it won’t. But it gets… easier with time. You grow around it, man. Soon, the good memories aren’t going to hurt anymore. The bad ones fade, you’re left with… with how much you loved her and how much she loved you.”

Jonathan looked up at him. “Did your…?”

“Yeah, when I was a kid.” He sighed softly and sat down on the bed so he was level with Jonathan, reaching back to pat Steve’s ankle. “There’s a reason I live with my uncle. What happened to you isn’t fair. Seems like a lot of things that have happened to your family aren’t fair. But you’ve got Will, you’ve got Nancy, you’ve got us. It’ll get easier, I promise. But you have to let it hurt first.”

Jonathan was quiet for a long moment before he brought his hands up to his face and began to sob. Eddie scooted forward and gently tugged the wheelchair to pull him forward. He wrapped his arms around Jonathan and cradled the back of his head, just letting him cry. It was a little heartbreaking to watch.

Steve looked up at Gareth and smiled weakly. “Hey, how was your camping trip?”

“Oh. Um, it was okay. My dad brought his new girlfriend which was kind of weird. I mean, she was nice and everything, it was just weird. I guess he met her through his work.” He glanced over at Eddie and Jonathan. “Why’d the mall burn down? And how’d you get so messed up?” Gareth pulled over the chair Hopper had been sitting in. “You look really fucked up, Steve.”

“Thanks.”

“You know what I mean.” Gareth reached out, touching Steve’s cheek with his fingertips. “You look like someone beat the shit out of you. You have some burns on your hands…” His gaze trailed down, past the chest tube, past the bandages on his wrists, settling on his hands. “Who hurt you? And do you want me to kill them?”

A horrible thought passed through Steve’s mind, a flicker of Gareth in Robin’s place, bound and bruised and crying out in pain. “No!” He sucked in a breath too fast and sent himself into a coughing fit, his raw throat and broken ribs making him want to curl into a ball and hide under the blanket. “Gareth, no,” he wheezed out between breaths. “You can’t- it’s-” He brought a fist up to his mouth as more coughs wracked through him.

Eddie moved to rub Steve’s back. “Easy, easy, big boy,” he murmured. “Come on, in and out, slow.” The monitors Steve was attached to were blaring now, the room too fucking loud.

Hopper came back in with a frown, Steve could hardly see him. The coughing brought tears pricking at the edges of his eyes and blurring his vision. “What’s going on?”

“He’s okay, chief.” Eddie kept his tone gentle, probably for Steve’s benefit. “He’s catching his breath, see?”

Steve groaned and listed to the side until his head bumped against Eddie for just a moment. God, he felt like shit. “Gareth,” he wheezed. He cleared his throat and winced at the way it made his head spin. Hopper held a cup to his lips again and he drank it slowly. “Gareth, you can’t look into this, okay? The mall burned down, that’s it.”

Hopper frowned and looked at Gareth. “They cut corners when they were building, the mayor was taking bribes to look the other way. The wiring wasn’t up to code and Steve was trapped in an elevator with his coworker. The cables snapped and it fell through to the basement. They helped get kids out anyway and Steve was hit by more falling debris, alright?”

Gareth turned to look at Steve, who couldn’t meet his eyes. He’d have to memorize that story. He had trouble remembering the other lies, too, but they weren’t as important, not to him. His involvement had been… considerably limited compared to this. The mall burned down. He’d been in a falling elevator, a normal one, with Robin. He’d been hit by falling debris. He’d… rescued kids?

“Okay.” Gareth didn’t sound like he believed them, eyes narrowing when he looked at Eddie and Jonathan.

Jonathan reached down and wheeled himself back and around the bed. “I think I’m going to head back to my room for now. I’m tired.”

Hopper nodded and stepped aside to let him out the door. “I’ll come with you, kid. Help you get back in the bed.”

Jonathan looked like he wanted to protest, but he sighed and nodded. “Okay. Thank you.”

“What do you know? Byers accepting help.” Eddie turned so he could lean up against the headboard, his hand laying on Steve’s arm. “He must really be fucked up.”

Steve leaned his head against Eddie’s shoulder, nuzzling against him. “I should make them a quiche or something. Will likes them, at least.” He was so tired but fought against the urge to go back to sleep. He’d slept for two whole days.

Wayne peered down the hall from his spot by the doorway. “Looks like you might have another visitor, Steve.”

Robin burst into the room, holding a stuffed bear. “Steve!” She lowered her voice after he cringed. “Steve, you’re awake! How are you feeling? Are you okay?”

“Feel like shit.” He smiled weakly and took the stuffed bear. “How about you?” He looked at the dark bruises along her arms, the rawness of her wrists that matched his, the stitches in her forehead, splinted fingers, and the swelling and bruising by her eye.

“I could be a lot worse.” She pointed to her eye. “I have a fracture right next to my eye and if it was any worse, I would’ve needed surgery. On my eyeball! It could’ve like, kept me from moving it.”

“Ew.” Steve shuddered at the idea of eye surgery. “Have you talked to any of the kids?”

“Yeah, Henderson has been running around like crazy. He’s got his mom driving him all over the place. I don’t know how he found out where I live, but he’s come over twice now. I checked in with the Sinclairs on my way here, they’re doing okay. Erica’s complaining about her legs hurting, it looks like they got kinda bruised up. Dustin’s too, but I don’t think he’s slowed down enough to notice.”

“God, Erica…” Steve’s voice cracked. “She’s so young, what were we thinking?”

“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” Robin weakly offered. “She’s okay though. She’s resilient and she’s got Lucas. They’ve got each other.”

Steve shook his head. “Max? She was… she was so upset, Rob.”

Robin sat down on the bed and draped herself over his legs. He immediately felt a little better and stretched a hand out until she took it, lacing their fingers together. The splints felt weird against his hand. “I haven’t seen her, but Mike said she responded to check ins on the walkie talkies. And… well, I’ve been keeping an ear to the ground for gossip, people just say stuff in front of me, like I’m invisible or something. But I was in Melvalds with my dad to get my prescription for my eye, you know? And I overheard some people talking, it sounds like her stepdad is really pissed about Billy…”

“He’s really dead…?”

“Yeah. Yeah, he’s really dead. I guess they didn’t get his body or something? Or something with the county coroner or paperwork? The details are fuzzy. I’m going to try and check in on Max and her mom later.”

“Good, that’s good.” Steve yawned, cringing at the way his jaw ached. “When I’m out of here… I’ll check in on them too, maybe Henderson will let me borrow his walkie.” He let his eyes fall shut as Eddie stroked his hair. “I’m sorry I’m not more entertaining, Gare,” he mumbled. “I’m just so tired…”

“You need rest. You’re… really hurt.” Steve could hear the worry in Gareth’s voice, but couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes again.

“I’m gonna be fine.” His tongue felt heavy in his mouth and he pressed his face against the pillow and squeezed Robin’s hand. He could trust them to keep him safe if he just dozed off for a few minutes…

Chapter Text

Steve grunted and cracked his eyes open, his cheek pressed into the flat, soft pillow under his head. “Eddie…?” He cringed back as a hand stroked his hair, but settled into the touch after a long moment, finding comfort in it.

“Yeah, it’s me, baby.” Eddie’s voice was just a little too loud, but Steve didn’t hush him. He was worried that if he did, Eddie would stay quiet. Too loud was better than too quiet because he could actually hear it. “I’m just checking on you, like the doctor said to. Do you know what day it is?”

Steve shook his head slowly after a long moment of thinking. “It’s July. 1985. Don’t know what day.” He let out a tiny whine as Eddie’s hand moved away from his head.

“That’s okay. Um…” Eddie frowned and Steve closed his eyes, listening to him fumble for a paper on his cluttered desk. “A ha! Uh, shit, you know where you are?”

“Mhm. In your room. Smells good in here.”

“It smells like weed and sweat, baby.” Eddie laughed and the sound made Steve’s aching head throb, but he wanted to listen to it forever. Eddie sat down on the bed, Steve rolled over as the mattress dipped, and the fingers were back in his hair. He curled his aching body around Eddie as much as he could, feeling clingy. “Are you hungry? Wayne found some homemade applesauce in the freezer yesterday, it thawed in the fridge. It should be easy on your belly.”

Steve cracked open an eye to look at Eddie. Even with the way his vision was blurred, he still loved the way the sun reflected on his curls. He reached up and clumsily touched Eddie’s cheek, letting his eyes close again as he felt the rasp of stubble against his palm. Eddie was looking at him expectantly and… oh shit. He’d asked a question. “What…?”

Eddie’s cheek pressed against his hand a little more firmly. “Do you think you can eat? There’s applesauce if you want it. I’m gonna start worrying if we don’t get something in you.” He laid a hand on Steve’s belly, careful of the bruising that had developed.

“I know what you could get in me,” Steve mumbled with a snicker. He smiled wide enough that it made his face hurt when Eddie laughed. He liked making Eddie happy, he thought blearily. “Applesauce sounds okay. I haven’t thrown up since the hospital…”

Steve closed his eyes for a moment and when he opened them, Eddie had gotten up and wasn’t in the bedroom anymore. He’d been out of the hospital for a few days now and was mostly drifting in and out of sleep. That first day had been the most lucid he felt, but he was slowly getting back there. Eddie and Wayne helped him stay on schedule with his medicine and changing bandages. They reassured him that he didn’t need to pay him back at all, that he was family.

The first time Wayne said that, Steve had burst into tears and ended up crying into Eddie’s shoulder for a while while Wayne rubbed his back. God, he really had cried way more in the last week or so than maybe the rest of his life combined. Wayne said it was a good thing and Eddie was more than willing to wipe away his tears and wipe away his snot, nose stuck in a splint for at least the next few weeks.

He reached up to fidget with it, cringing at the way it dug into his skin, the way it pressed uncomfortably against his nose as he tried to adjust it. “Hey, hey, hey, you knock that off.” Eddie’s long fingers wrapped around his hand and tugged it away from the splint. “You’re gonna hurt yourself.”

“Hi Eddie.”

“Hi sweetheart.” Eddie stroked his hair back. “Do you want to move out to the couch? I can put on one of Wayne’s records, put something on the tv, get you sitting up for a while?”

“M’kay.” Steve brought his hand back up to his head, pressing it against his temple. He sucked in a slow breath and Eddie’s hand settled between his shoulder blades, bringing him up to sit. “Okay,” he murmured, waiting for his head to stop spinning.

Eddie’s lips pressed against his temple. “There we go. You’re doing amazing, baby.”

Steve smiled and leaned on Eddie as he slowly got to his feet. “Thanks, Eds,” he mumbled. Every step was difficult, testing his balance. The carpet was soft under his feet as Eddie guided him slowly to the living room. The couch was comfortable and he could smell cigarettes as he leaned his head back. He sighed and felt the couch dip as Eddie sat down next to him. “Where’s Wayne?”

“Oh, he went out to get lunch with his, uh, his friend Scott. He’ll be back soon.” When Steve opened his eyes, Eddie was holding up a spoon. “Open for me.” Steve did, letting Eddie feed him a spoonful of applesauce.

It was good, really good. The first semi solid food he’d eaten in days. He’d mostly been sipping broth and juice whenever he was awake enough for Eddie to nudge a straw into his mouth. “It’s good,” he murmured, opening his mouth for another bite. He closed his eyes again and ate the applesauce slowly, letting it settle in his stomach.

“Good job, baby,” Eddie murmured when he finished it. “You wanna lay back down? You can put your head on my lap, I’ll play with your hair.”

Steve nodded and let Eddie help him shift. “Have I been snoring?”

“Oh, so much, baby.” Eddie’s fingers slid through his hair and he groaned, content as he rolled over to press his face against Eddie’s belly. “You’ve been snoring so loud, it’s kind of cute.”

Steve groaned, tilting his head slightly so he could look up at Eddie. “How is it cute? It’s definitely the least cute thing.”

“It’s cute because it’s you, baby.” Eddie stroked his cheek and Steve wanted to melt, wanted to close his eyes and just bask in the moment. He wanted this moment forever. Of course, it would be nicer if his head didn’t hurt and he could breathe through his nose, but he yawned and settled, curling up just a little.

“Eds, you’re gonna make me blush.” He closed his eyes and smiled as Eddie’s fingers kept messing with his hair. He heard the tv turn on, but he didn’t turn to look at it, just felt him breathe as he rested.

He didn’t know how long he stayed like that, just drifting in sleepiness, but he jolted when there was a banging at the door. “What-?”

“Easy, babe.” Eddie lifted Steve’s head and maneuvered out from under him, laying it down on a pillow. Steve could hear his voice, but couldn’t make out the words, lost them with the ringing that hadn’t fully gone away yet. The muffled sound of Eddie’s voice washed over him like a blanket though. He yawned, his face scrunching up with it and reigniting the ache of his nose. He’d have to ask Eddie when he could take his next dose of pain meds.

When he opened his eyes again, he was blinking at the concerned face of Dustin. “Henderson?” He grunted and sat up, rubbing his eye, pretending it didn’t hurt. “What are you doing here, man?”

“I tried to check in on you, but you weren’t at your house. I had to walkie like half the party before Lucas told me you were here!”

“Sorry man.” Steve leaned back against Eddie when he sat back down. “I didn’t think to tell anyone. Lucas knows because Erica knows because Robin knows, I thought you’d get in the loop somewhere.” He frowned. “Have you heard from Robin?”

“Yeah, um, her parents pretty much have her on house arrest right now. I don’t think she’s grounded, but she said she doesn’t think she’ll be getting to go anywhere until like, the end of the month, at least.” Dustin looked between them. “She said her eye doesn’t hurt as much!”

“Good.” Steve tilted his head back to press it into the curve of Eddie’s neck, humming as he stretched his back. “Good, it looked… pretty gross last time I saw her. Not the eye, the uh, the bruising around it.” He gestured to his own face and Dustin nodded.

“Got it, got it.” He shifted uncomfortably. “I was worried about you. I mean, last time I saw you, you were in the hospital and hadn’t woken up yet and the doctors kept talking about brain damage!”

“They what?” Steve tried to twist to look at Eddie but hissed as it caused a sharp spike of pain through his head. “Fuck.”

Eddie stroked his hair gently and guided his head back down. “Easy honey. It was… mentioned once or twice, we didn’t want to worry you or anything. They said you might have some… difficulties after you woke up, but weren’t sure. I mean, you had a pretty major concussion, they said you must have gotten hit-”

“I took a couple knocks to the head,” Steve cut in. He didn’t want Dustin to know all the details, he really didn’t. Ideally, no one would know what happened to him down there. “But what do you mean by brain damage? I’d know if I have brain damage!”

“We’re not saying you have brain damage, baby. Or that you wouldn’t know.” Eddie reached to take Steve’s hand, which was trembling, which had been trembling ever since he woke up. Oh god, was that a sign of brain damage? “The doctors were just trying to prepare for every possibility.”

Steve groaned and closed his eyes, exhaustion sitting heavily in his head. “Ugh, I want to stop being tired,” he whined, shifting to lay down with his head in Eddie’s lap again, his legs hooked over the arm of the couch. “How long until I stop being tired?”

Dustin frowned. “See, that’s another sign of brain damage!”

“It’s a sign of a concussion.”

“Which can lead to brain damage! Steeeeve,” Dustin whined. “Everyone has been worried about you. I mean, you kind of collapsed in the parking lot and we all thought you were… I don’t know, not like, fine, but you had been running around and you carried Max away from the fire and the mindflayer. You didn’t wake up for two days.” He looked young and scared and Steve reached out to him. “I thought you were gonna die.”

“I didn’t die, kid.” Steve pulled him in for an awkward hug, he didn’t have the energy to sit up for it. “I’m sorry I scared you, but I didn’t die, okay? I’m gonna be here to bother you kids for a long time. Who else is going to give you rides to the arcade or rent movies for you?” He held Dustin tight and knocked his hat off, letting it fall to the floor. In all the ways that counted, Dustin was his little brother.

“Okay.” Dustin’s face was smushed against Steve’s shoulder, but he didn’t make a move to pull away. “I’m glad you have Eddie looking out for you.”

“I have a lot of people looking out for me. I’m pretty lucky, you know.” He ruffled up Dustin’s hair and cradled the back of his head for a long moment, before letting him go. “I love you, Dustin.”

“I love you too, Steve.” Dustin sat down on the floor next to Eddie’s legs and leaned his head back until it pressed against Steve’s arm.

Steve hummed sleepily and started to card his fingers through Dustin’s curls. He liked Dustin’s hair a lot. He’d cut it at Ms. Henderson’s request about a week before school let out. He’d been cutting his own hair for years now, since he didn’t like (most) people touching his hair. He’d figured Dustin’s couldn’t be much harder, plus he could see the back of Dustin’s head without three different mirrors.

It had come out pretty well, though some of his curls were a little lopsided when he’d finished. Dustin had been all smiles and said he couldn’t even notice the little imperfections. He’d started using a better conditioner too, so his hair was all soft. It felt nice under Steve’s fingers.

He was just dozing off again, petting Dustin like he was Tews, when the trailer door swung open. He let out an irate grunt at the noise and turned his head against Eddie’s thigh. It made his nose throb, but he insistently nuzzled his face against Eddie’s leg. Eddie’s hand rubbed over his back in soothing circles. “It’s just Wayne, you can sleep.”

“No, gonna say hi,” Steve mumbled, forcing his heavy eyelids open. “Hi Wayne.”

“How are you feeling, boy?” Wayne’s rough hand came to rest on his forehead, a comforting weight. “You’re looking better every time I see you.”

“Thanks.” Steve tried to lift his head, but decided it was too much effort. “My face hurts.”

“It’s killing me, son.”

Eddie snorted and Steve managed a small smile. “Can I have more meds?”

Wayne clicked his tongue. “You didn’t give him more medicine, Ed?”

Steve felt Eddie strain to look at the time and grunted again, reaching out to grip his shirt. “Hey, stay still, you’re nice.”

“I didn’t realize it was that late.” Eddie massaged Steve’s temples and he arched into the touch. “Come on baby, sit up for me. Another pill, it’ll help your head.”

Dustin’s cold hand came to rest on his shoulder, Eddie’s on his back to ease him up. “Is he going to feel bad forever?” Dustin asked.

“Nah, he’s already doing way better than he was. He’s awake, isn’t he?”

“...mostly, I guess.”

“I can hear you,” Steve grumbled, blindly reaching out for Eddie’s hand. He blinked his eyes open with what felt like way too much effort. “I’m gonna be totally fine, Dustin. I just need some time to fully bounce back.”

Wayne brought him a pill and a mug of water with a straw. “You really are looking better every time I see you.” He patted Steve’s head as he took the pill. “How are the ribs doing?”

“They hurt.” Steve sighed and sipped the water. “But less. Have you met Dustin yet?”

“Don’t think I have. You’re the little brother?”

Dustin perked up and scrambled to his feet. “I’m the little brother! Dustin Henderson, it’s nice to meet you sir!” He held out his hand with a bright smile.

Wayne chuckled and shook his hand. “Alright, none of that, now. Just call me Wayne.”

Eddie took the mug and leaned forward to set it on the coffee table. “So how was your date, old man?”

Steve looked up curiously and raised an eyebrow when Wayne’s cheeks pinkened. “It wasn’t a date, I was just catching up with Scott.”

“Hey, I know your last relationship ended, well…”

“It ain’t a relationship.” Wayne lightly cuffed Eddie over the head, making a little dent in his curls. He rolled his eyes when Eddie groaned and pretended to be wounded. “Enough with the antics. You focus on your boy.”

Steve’s face warmed at being referred to as Eddie’s boy. He liked that, liked being Eddie’s. He snuggled in closer and curled his legs up as much as he could to make room for Dustin to sit on the couch. Eddie guided him to lay down and it wasn’t long before the painkillers began to kick in, leaving him soothed, relaxed and sleepy. He sighed and lifted his feet to stretch them out across Dustin’s lap, ignoring the protests he could hardly hear.

He blinked blearily at the tv and settled in, letting himself float in the cozy haze. He could hear the other three talking, but he was happy to just be in the moment.

Chapter Text

It had been about two days since Steve left the Munsons’ home for his own house. Eddie had spent the first night back at the house curled around him in bed before going home, though he left Steve with several lingering kisses.

The funeral for Joyce had come and gone, and it had been an upsettingly tiny event with low attendance. Nancy had said it was probably because of all the funerals around town lately. Joyce’s was one of the last.

There were no remains of her body in the wake of the explosion.

When Hopper had told him that, he held onto some hope, that maybe she was trapped in the rubble and the firefighters or soldiers would pull her out. But his hope dwindled as the smoking rubble was abandoned on the edge of town, smoldering ruins that stood as a grave to the people who were lost. Including Joyce.

But Steve knew her funeral wasn’t poorly attended because of the timing. It was because of what the town had labeled her as. It was unfair, but there was little to be done. Jonathan had said there was nothing anyone could do that would make him forgive them for how they’d treated his mom when she was still alive.

Steve had sat behind him during the service, pressed between Robin and Eddie. Will and Jonathan had been clutching each other’s hands, both of them crying silently. Jonathan had given her eulogy with a timid, shaking voice. Steve couldn’t remember what he’d said or if he’d even gotten through it before he’d returned to his brother’s side. He was sure it was nice, though, and told Jonathan as much.

The reception after was an equally quiet affair. He saw Murray in a pair of sunglasses and a dark coat in the back corner of the room, wringing a handkerchief and whispering to Hopper whenever he got close enough. He didn’t see Murray leave, just knew he wasn’t there when he looked again. The rest of Hellfire had stopped by and Steve had to smile when he saw Gareth sitting with Will and Lucas. Will had even smiled at one point. Grant and Becca had sat with Jonathan in silence for a while.

Before Becca left, she’d given Steve a careful hug, telling him that with everything that had happened, her parents wanted to send her to college a little early and get her away from Hawkins. Steve told her it wasn’t a terrible idea and she promised to visit over the holidays.

El had sat with him and Eddie for a while, using crutches while her leg healed. She told them about moving from the cabin in the woods to the Byers’ house and how she was sharing a room with Will now. But Will usually ended up in Jonathan’s room and she didn’t know how to help. Eddie had told her to just be present for him, to keep reminding him she was there for him.

Around that time, Max had shown up, wearing a black skirt. Steve didn’t know she owned any skirts if he was being honest. Billy’s funeral had been the same day at a church outside of town, she’d convinced her mom to drop her off to pay her respects. He watched as she hugged Will and sat with him for a while. He hoped they would be okay, maybe they’d find comfort in being together.

That led him to today. After spending the better part of a month away from home, things had gotten… dusty. He’d cleaned the upstairs first, dusting shelves and art and doing a quick sweep of his parents room and en suite bathroom in case they came home. And now he was vacuuming, changing the sheets in the guest rooms, doing laundry…

There was a lot to be done. He was off of his usual schedule for cleaning. He’d just finished vacuuming and was getting ready to dust off tables and shelves, replace the magazines on the coffee table, when there was a knock at the door. He frowned, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. He set the duster down carefully and peeked out the window (which also needed to be cleaned).

“Gareth? Robin?” He pulled open the front door. “What are you guys doing here?”

Robin elbowed Gareth with a grin. “Hey, I brought you some soup!”

“…in August?”

“Soup is always in season. It’s got fresh carrots and shit in it!” She held up her container.

Gareth tucked his hands in his pockets, shooting Robin a Not-so-subtle glare. “I came to see how you’re doing. Now that you’re back home and everything.”

Steve took a step back. “Oh, uh, come on in, excuse the mess. But the air conditioner is on, don’t let the heat in.” He directed them to take their shoes off before making his way back to the living room to pick up the duster. “I’m just doing some cleaning, it needed to be done.”

Gareth looked around the room, arms crossed over his chest. “Excuse the mess? What mess are you talking about?”

“The dust! And- and the couch isn’t made up. And I haven’t changed out the magazines yet- shit, let me make up the couch.” He pressed a hand to his ribs, still a little sore, when he moved a little too quickly and scooped up the pillows, tongue poking out as he adjusted them on the couch.

Robin came in from the kitchen. “Yeah, if you’re cleaning, you might wanna get the apples out of the fridge before they start fermenting.”

“Shit! I haven’t checked the fridge!” Steve groaned and lifted one of the pillows to his face. “Completely slipped my mind. It doesn’t smell bad in there, does it?” He looked at Robin, who made a so-so gesture with her hand. He grunted and pressed his face into the pillow again. He wasn’t using the nose splint anymore, but it was still a little tender from all the hits he’d taken.

Gareth nudged a pillow aside and sat down. “You know, we can like, give you a hand. If you want.”

“No, no, you’re my guests. I’ll get you guys something to drink.”

Robin sighed and put her hands on his shoulders, he could feel which of her fingers were still bound in splints. “Steve, it’s okay, seriously. Why are you worried about making up the couch and changing out the… the magazines? That’s weird.”

“That’s what I’m supposed to do.” Steve shrugged. “It’s how I’ve… always been expected to do it.” His cheek stung for a moment, a memory of what happened when he didn’t care for the house properly. “I mean, I really let things get out of shape around here. I guess I wasn’t here, but… you know.” He gathered the old magazines to put with the recycling and found the new ones that had come in the mail. “I know the magazine thing is a little much, but it’s just one thing.”

He could practically hear the expression on Gareth’s face. “Your parents are… weird.”

“It’s not that weird.” Steve carefully arranged them. “Shit, I didn’t water the plants,” he mumbled to himself. He craned his neck to look out into the entryway. The plant drooped and the leaves were paler than he remembered, but it didn’t look dead. Just thirsty.

“Are they coming home soon?” Robin asked.

“Maybe? If they are, it’s usually around this time of year. I guess the city is pretty hot and their other homes are south of here, anyway. My mother doesn’t like the cold much.” He went into the kitchen to fill a watering can. And yeah, okay, it definitely smelled bad, he’d have to go through the refrigerator and get rid of anything that had gone bad. He shook off the smell and set about quickly tending to the plant. “I called the other day, left a message with the secretary. I’m sure I’ll hear from them soon.”

“…when were they home last?”

Steve frowned and prodded at the orchid under one of the living room windows before watering it. His hands were shaking and he spilled some of the water onto the windowsill. “I don’t know, a weekend in March, I guess. It’s not a big deal. I can take care of myself, you know.” He touched his nose with his fingertips and frowned. “Well, I can usually take care of myself.”

“Clearly.” Gareth knelt on the couch so he could lean over the back. “Like, I get it, kinda, you know my mom works nights so I don’t get to see her that often, but your parents are just never here? Doesn’t that suck?”

“I mean, it’s worse when they are here. I’m never totally sure when they want me to stick around and when they want me to fuck off.” He frowned, gripping the watering can a little tighter. “It’s really not a big deal though.” But it kind of was, wasn’t it? He didn’t think his parents had ever wanted kids, that was kind of the impression he got when he heard about them when they were younger. But they were expected to, especially with his dad being a hotshot on the rise at the firm he owned now.

There had always been expectations for Steve. Expectations that were high enough that his fingers could barely graze them when he reached and stretched and jumped. But maybe he was just a lot lower to the ground than he’d once thought.

He couldn’t meet their standards and he was a disappointment. Sometimes he hoped that they would forget about him. Forget about Hawkins and forget to call him. Leave him as a part of their past never to dwell on.

It was a terrible thing to think, wasn’t it? To harbor resentment for the people who had given him everything he needed? Because it was his fault if he couldn’t live up to their standards. Couldn’t get the grades he should, couldn’t be the perfect athlete, couldn’t represent the family name the way he was supposed to. It was his fault for not being enough. Because if it wasn’t his fault, then why…

Why did they leave him?

Steve blinked a few times. “I’m just… not good enough.” He shrugged, his voice rasping in his throat. “Even though I try. I really try to be good enough. I don’t know why it’s so hard.” His voice broke and he was horrified to feel tears burning in his eyes.

“Steve, shit, don’t…” Gareth nearly face planted as he scrambled over the back of the couch. “Shut the fuck up, okay?”

Steve blinked a few times, the first tear falling down his face, but he felt bewildered as Gareth tugged the watering can out of his hands. “What…?”

“Shut the fuck up!” Gareth reached to grab his face, gentle but firm as he made Steve look at him. “That’s my best friend you’re talking about. And I know there are things that are hard for you. And you can be bitchy sometimes and you roll your eyes so much. But you aren’t… you’re not undeserving of people loving you. Anyone who doesn’t love you is stupid and doesn’t know you the way I do. The way we do.”

Steve swallowed and nodded slowly. “I love you too,” he mumbled, leaning in until his forehead hit Gareth’s shoulder. “I love you too, man…”

It was a weird angle and weird positioning, but Gareth’s arms wrapped around him and they stood there for a few long moments. “You’re not a disappointment, not to me, not to Robin, not to Eddie. You’re Steve, that’s all we want you to be.”

Steve didn’t start crying, but his eyes felt awfully wet as he clung to Gareth. He didn’t know what to say, words felt distant and his legs ached. His body ached, he felt tired. He should finish cleaning, but maybe…

“Come on.” Gareth was guiding him until suddenly the bumped into the couch. Robin tugged him down to sit and he slumped down into it. He was tired.

He pulled them both in closer and let his head fall back with a sigh. “I’m not crying,” he mumbled as he closed his eyes.

“Yes you are.” Robin’s hair tickled his neck as she nestled in close, wrapping her arms around his arm. “But that’s okay.”

“Crying is like, a totally masculine thing,” Gareth said insistently. “Like, it’s so manly to show your emotions.”

Steve let out a sharp laugh. “I’m not that concerned with being masculine, okay? I’m just getting used to… showing emotions.” He wiped at his eyes with a sigh. “I have other concerns.” He tried not to think of his father yelling at him to be a fucking man. Maybe he was a little bit concerned about being masculine. Fuck.

Gareth reached up to brush his fingers against a mostly faded bruise on Steve’s cheek. “What happened to you?” His voice was quiet. “Something happened in there. That wasn’t just a fire.”

“Gareth.” Steve reached over to grab his wrist, holding it as tight as he could without hurting him. “Gareth, man, I need you to not think about it. It’s… there’s a lot of things that have happened in this town that I shouldn’t know. That none of us should know.”

“What…?”

Robin leaned over Steve, pressing herself as close to him as she could. “Gareth, hi. I don’t know you very well, but I have a feeling I’m going to. You need to listen to Steve, okay? It’s for the best that you stay in the dark. I wish I could have, but I can’t. It’s too late for me, but it’s not too late for you.”

“That clarifies nothing and now I’m scared.” Gareth leaned into Steve a little harder. “I won’t ask. But promise me you’re safe?”

Steve hesitated but nodded. “I’m safe, Gare, okay? I’m as safe as I can possibly be, especially because I have you here with me.” He wrapped his arms around Gareth to hug him close, Robin pressed to his back.

He might not believe in god, but he’d pray to anything out there that Gareth would never become involved with any of this.

Chapter Text

Robin sobbed as her knee knocked into the side of the tub, already bruised from slamming into the porcelain several times prior, her voice garbled under the wet towel over her face. Her hands were bound at her sides and her ankles were tied together. “Who do you work for?”

Her voice was raw as she shook her head, trying to toss the towel off her face. “Scoops!” Her voice rasped, gravelly from screaming. “I work for Scoops Ahoy!” She screamed again, but it was cut off as her mouth was filled with water. Her chest heaved as she flailed again, not able to get away. Even after the stream of water stopped, she sobbed harder and desperately gasped for air.

The towel was removed and she cried harder as Steve helped her sit up, dropping the bucket onto the floor next to the tub. She spit up water, letting it dribble down her chin and chest. She trembled as she collapsed forward against his bare chest, whimpering as he untied her wrists. She shook out her hands, touching Steve’s face, trying to wipe away the tears falling from his eyes too. “I didn’t like doing that.” Steve’s voice was quiet as he pulled her in closer, hugging her tight.

“It wasn’t fun on my end.” She tried to laugh, but it was more of a cough as she seemed to fight to get her breathing under control. She held on to Steve as she reached down to untie her ankles, also rubbed raw by the rope they’d bought from the hardware store earlier that day. She tossed the rope to the back of the tub and groaned as she brought her hands up to wipe at her eyes.

Steve held her close as they sat in the cold tub half nude, rocking her until she stopped shaking. “Better?”

“Yeah.” She wiped her eyes and pushed her wet hair back from her face. “Yeah, I’m okay. Your turn?”

“Yeah. Yeah, my turn.” He shifted to swap positions with her and held up his hands, watching as she tied them together. “Tighter. I think it has to be tighter.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, dingus.”

Steve raised an eyebrow, grinning a little. “You don’t want to hurt me? You’re about to waterboard me.”

“Waterboarding doesn’t leave scars!” She huffed, wiping at her eyes again. Her hands were trembling as she pulled the knots tight. “Okay, ankles too. Don’t want you breaking your foot or something.” She put a hand on his calf, tugging his leg closer. Her fingers shook against his skin. “You’re sure about this?”

“Rob, I just did it to you. It’s only fair, right?” He felt a cold spike of terror in his gut as the rope bit into his skin, slightly frayed from Robin’s thrashing. “I got my fingernails, like, halfway ripped off, I can handle a little water. Probably.” He shifted as the water in the bottom of the tub dampened his briefs.

“Well, that’s why we’re doing this, right? To find out.”

“And you apparently hold up well under torture.” He let out a faint laugh and slowly laid back. “Come on, let’s see how I’d shake out, yeah?” He shifted to try and get a little more comfortable, his bound hands digging into his back. He let out a grunt as the wet towel smacked against his face, already making it a little harder to breathe. He heard the water running, filling the bucket just over his head.

His heart was racing as he tried to brace himself. This felt stupid, he knew they were just traumatizing themselves all over again. But part of him needed to know, he had to know that he would’ve been okay if they’d done this to him. He’d barely held out when it was just a few blows to the head.

He wasn’t prepared when the first splash of water hit the towel. He’d been inhaling, the water filling his mouth and flooding his nose as it poured down on him. He choked and jerked, back arching over his bound hands. The ropes dug into his wrists and rubbed against his back, next to his spine.

His legs jerked outwards, accidentally knocking against Robin’s foot. He tried to gasp out an apology, but that only ended with his mouth filling with more water. It was fucking cold, he could feel it tricking down his cheeks, down into his ears. He shook his head as his already tenuous hearing became, well, watery.

It stopped, making him gasp for air through the soaked cloth, trying to spit out the water in his mouth. It soaked back into the towel, some dripping down his chin and neck, down the side of his face. “Who do you work for?” Her voice bounced off the tiled, echoey bathroom walls, and for a moment, it wasn’t Robin, it was the Russian general and his face was beaten in again, it wasn’t water in his throat, it was blood.

“Scoops Ahoy, I work for Scoops Ahoy! We don’t know anything, we don’t!” Steve wasn’t quite crying, part of him was afraid that if he started, he’d drown, that his own tears would make it harder for him to breathe. He tried to yell again, but his mouth was flooded with water. The ropes rubbed harder against his wrists as he squirmed, heels hitting the bottom of the tub hard. He couldn’t fucking breathe, couldn’t get his hands out from behind his back.

He tossed his head, trying to spit water from his mouth. It only resulted in water going up his nose, making him try and cry out. The water kept coming, spilling into his nose and mouth and eyes. As soon as the water stopped, he desperately gasped, the wet towel keeping him from getting much air. He thrashed harder, just barely managing to suck in enough breath to let out a sob. “Please! I don’t know!”

He didn’t know how long he’d been laying there, maybe thirty seconds, maybe thirty years. Time didn’t have meaning anymore as he frantically tried to tear his wrists apart, struggling to comprehend when the water was and wasn’t pouring over his face. He couldn’t hear anything over the frantic beating of his heart, could only see the barest hints of light through the wet towel.

His lungs burned as he tried not to drown, limbs jerking frantically. He was sobbing, almost heaving as the towel was removed from his face. His vision was blurred as he tilted his head to the side, coughing up water. It pooled in his cheek, he felt too weak to spit it out. He could distantly hear voices shouting, but he just groaned and closed his eyes as he took ragged breaths.

Eventually, hands on his shoulders guided him to sit up and… a second pair of hands were untying his wrists. He didn’t know who else was there. “R- Rob?”

“I’m here, Steve.” Her voice was gentle, it was her, it was her and not a Russian trying to kill him. He let his head fall forward, hitting her shoulder as he shivered. “I’ve got you, Stevie, I’m here. You’re safe, you’re in your house, we’re in the downstairs bathroom.” It was a mirror of earlier, when she’d cried into his shoulder with her wet hair against his neck.

“Why- why did we do this?” Steve’s next sob was mixed with a laugh, his wrists a little bloody and rubbed raw as they were finally unbound and he was able to grab onto her.

“Because we’re morons!” That got a surprised laugh out of Steve. Another hand was rubbing his back, it felt nice, it was soothing against his cold skin.

“Morons,” he echoed, sobbing again, a shaky noise that tore out of his body from deep in his chest. Crying still felt so unnatural to him, felt wrong, like he was contorting himself to be allowed to cry. He swiped the heels of his hands against his eyes, reaching out again before long to cling to Robin again, like part of him was detached if he wasn’t touching her.

He leaned his cheek against her arm and turned his head to see who was rubbing his back, blinking away the tears blurring his vision. Eddie was watching him with a sad little smile, his eyes warm and soft and comforting. He felt like he could breathe easier just from seeing him.

“What on earth were you two doing?” Eddie’s voice was just as gentle as his eyes when he reached out to stroke Steve’s wet hair back from his face.

“We wanted to see if- if we could hold out under other methods of torture.” Steve closed his eyes and let go of Robin to reach down and untie his ankles with shaky fingers. “I mean, not that… we actually had information. It’s not like they asked us about the Upside Down, which she barely knows about. But…”

“I mean, the hitting and yelling was scary, but it wasn’t as bad as them making me think Steve was dead.” Robin curled into Steve’s side, starting to shiver. They probably could’ve used warm water, but Robin insisted it would be more of a shock to their systems if it was cold. “They threatened me a lot. I mean, my eye bone was broken or whatever. They were worse to Steve.”

Eddie looked between them, his expression horrified. Though he was trying to politely avert his eyes from Robin’s bare chest. “Buckley, Stevie, what are you talking about?”

“With… with the Russians. When we were under the mall?” Steve reached to turn on the water, settling a little as he made it warm and turned on the shower head. “The interrogation stuff?”

Eddie just sat there for another long moment, watching as the two of them huddled together under the warm spray. “I didn’t know it was… you guys were tortured.” He rubbed his eyes, letting out a shaky breath. “Every time I think… that it can’t get worse, that what you’ve been through is bad enough, I find out it’s worse than I thought.”

“Eds-“

“Hey, no, I’m not mad at you, baby.” Eddie reached into the tub to stroke Steve’s hair back. “I’m upset that that happened to you guys, but it’s not your fault.”

“Mm.” Steve closed his eyes, melting against Robin as Eddie’s nails scratched along his scalp. “I would’ve survived waterboarding.”

“Fuck yeah you would’ve.” Robin gave him a tiny squeeze, letting out a shriek when his fingers wiggled against her side.

“You would’ve too.”

“I would’ve too!” She held her arms up, laughing as she fell backwards in the tub, pulling Steve down on top of her.

Eddie peered down into the tub. “Steve, I can see your dick through your underwear.”

Robin shrieked, cackling as she tried to get away from him. “Ew, your dick is visible!”

“You’ve literally seen me naked!” Steve fumbled for the knob to turn off the shower, holding a hand in front of his crotch, his white briefs transparent from getting wet. “And your tits are totally out right now!”

“So are yours!”

“Why has she seen you naked?” Eddie grinned as he got up, getting them both towels.

“I snuck in through his window while he was laying naked on his bed.” Robin began to dry her hair, ruffling it up until it was sticking in every direction.

“That’s not giving me any answers.”

Steve wrapped the towel around his waist and awkwardly rubbed it against his wet underwear to try and draw out some of the water. “I had a nightmare and felt like my clothes were suffocating me. So I took them off and was laying on top of my blankets. She crawled in my window because she’d also had a nightmare and doesn’t like using the key I gave her for the front door. And then she saw me naked and had to fumble through telling me my body is gross without giving me more self esteem issues.”

“I love you. I love you so much, Steve. But your body is unappealing to me.” Robin patted his cheek.

“I love you too and… I haven’t really given your body much thought? I guess you’re hot.”

“...thanks?”

Eddie sighed. “This is the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen. Both of you go put clothes on.”

Steve giggled, though his hands trembled as he and Robin headed upstairs wrapped in towels. His wrists ached as he pulled his dresser open, shoving a long sleeved shirt at her. “Shorts or sweatpants?”

“Sweatpants.” Robin turned away to strip off her wet underwear as Steve tossed sweatpants towards her.

He stripped off his briefs and dried off, tugging on sweatpants and a soft, worn tee. He left the towel in a heap on the floor before climbing into his bed. He made a faint sound and reached out towards Robin, who easily flopped down next to him, pressing herself close. “That was so stupid.”

“So stupid,” Robin agreed, yawning as she tucked her head next to his. “Oh, hey, I got us a job interview for next week.”

“Really? Where?”

“Family Video. The guy who’s gonna interview us, Keith, totally had a crush on me in school. I’m gonna use that to our advantage.” She nuzzled in against his neck and sighed. “How much do you know about movies, dingus?”

“I’ve definitely watched movies before. I can probably talk about them to people.” Steve yawned, rubbing a hand over his opposite wrist, cringing. “Ugh, we should’ve used one of my old belts instead of rope. Or like, a bathrobe tie…”

“Eddie! Come here!” Robin propped herself up, yelling out the door. She laid back down and nuzzled her head into his chest. “Oh shit, you’re super comfy.” She reached out for his hand, frowning as she looked over his wrist. “Man, you were writhing like crazy. I’m sorry you got hurt.”

“It’s not as bad as it was in the bunker. That was way worse.” He flexed his wrist a few times before tucking his arms under the blanket they were laying on. He was sure it looked ridiculous, but he didn’t want her to look at his wrists anymore, he didn’t want to look at them anymore. “I could hear you screaming when we were down there,” he said, his voice quiet. “Not for long, but I was really scared that they were hurting you.” He turned to look at her. Their bruises had faded for the most part, Steve’s ribs still ached if he overexerted himself and had to breathe too heavily, the chest tube incision was itchy, but healing, and lights and sound didn’t make his head hurt anymore.

“I could hear you too. You were… you were so scared, Steve. They wouldn’t stop, even though you were screaming…” Robin’s eyes started to look wet as she tilted her head up to look at him. “They brought you in and I thought you were dead, you were barely breathing. They tied us together and I just… sat there and waited for them to tell me you really died or come back and kill me.”

“I’m sorry, Robin. I thought that maybe I could keep their attention and you wouldn’t get hurt, but you did. I couldn’t keep you safe.”

“That’s not your fault.” Robin pulled him in closer, clinging to him tightly as Eddie came in. “It’s not your fault that they hurt me, okay? I don’t want you blaming yourself.”

“Blaming yourself for stuff that isn’t your fault again?” Eddie dropped down onto the bed, wiggling out of his jeans. “You gotta stop doing that.”

“Ew, don’t take your pants off!” Robin cried.

“But you’ll sit in the bathtub shirtless with him?”

“He’s… he’s Steve, it’s different with him.” Robin reached across Steve to slap at Eddie’s chest.

Steve groaned and pulled his arms out from under the blankets to pull them both closer. “Stop fighting, I’m too tired to be the med- the uh… the meditator.”

“Mediator,” Eddie corrected, curling in close to spoon up against Steve’s back. “Buckles and I will stop fighting.”

“Don’t call me Buckles.” Robin huffed and stretched out, her knee nudging close to his. “But! For your sake, Steve, I will do my best to get along with Munson.”

Steve groaned and reached out to lace their fingers together. “That’s good enough for me.” He yawned and nuzzled his cheek into his pillow. “Damn, waterboarding really takes it out of you, huh?”

“Steve!” Eddie held him a little tighter. “Wait until I tell Wayne what I caught you two doing.”

“No, hey, you can’t tell Wayne, he likes me.” Steve pouted. “He’s gonna think there’s something wrong with me.”

“Hate to break it to you baby, but you’re dating me, he already thinks there’s something wrong with you.” He kissed the back of Steve’s neck to make him laugh.

“Stop flirting when I’m in the bed.”

“You don’t know anything about flirting.” Steve nudged her. “Have you seen a certain someone since the mall disaster?”

“No.” There was a pout in her voice. “I haven’t.”

“Ooh, got a crush, Buck?” Eddie tucked his chin against Steve’s shoulder to look over him at Robin.

“Maybe. It’s a lost cause though. Total lost cause because um, well. It’s Hawkins.”

“Well, I bagged the hottest guy in Hawkins. If I can land someone like Steve, you can land whoever you wanna kiss.”

“Don’t say it like that!” Robin sighed. “Look, it’s just… she. It’s a she.”

“Ohhh, yeah, I can understand that. Again, dating a dude here.”

“Don’t call me a dude,” Steve grumbled.

“A total babe, then.” Eddie kissed his neck. “Who is the fair maiden who has captured your lovely heart?”

Robin groaned and shifted to face Eddie. “Vickie Hunter. She’s in marching band and auto shop, she’s got this old truck that she’s restoring, and she always wears this wildflower perfume. She’s so cool and cute and I want to kiss her pretty face. She’d always get a medium strawberry milkshake with extra whipped cream and a drizzle of chocolate syrup.” She sighed. “She’s so out of my league. And was totally dating some guy named Dan for so long.”

“Oh, yeah, I’ve seen her around. A redhead?”

“Yup.”

“Maybe we’ll get the job at the video store,” Steve hummed. “I mean, we could like, waive her late fees. You never charged her for the syrup, right? That’s like, totally flirting.”

“I’d never make her pay late fees, Steve, you know that.” Robin nudged her head under Steve’s chin.

“We are gonna get you a girlfriend, I promise.” Steve made a gesture to cross his heart. “You’re gonna be the second cutest couple in Hawkins.”

“After you guys? Gross.”

“Nope.” Steve grinned, watching as Eddie’s expression switched to one of confusion. “We’re gonna be third. Jeff and Gareth are totally cuter.”

“Rude.” Eddie squeezed him around the waist. “They’re not cuter than us.”

“Try and be cuter, baby.” Steve reached back to cup his cheek with a little giggle. “You’re pretty cute, but you can take it up a few notches.”

“Gross.” Robin nuzzled in closer. “Go to sleep, dinguses.”

Eddie pressed another kiss to Steve’s neck, drawing a laugh from him. “Okay, okay. I’ll think about being cuter.”

Steve snickered and closed his eyes as he settled in between them. He hadn’t felt this safe since… well. It had been a long time. He could feel Robin’s slow breaths against his chest and feel the rise and fall of Eddie’s against his back. It was perfect.

Chapter Text

Steve was pointedly ignoring Eddie’s complaints from the back seat as Robin coached him on how the interview would go. At least, that’s where the conversation had started, but now she was certifiably rambling about The Apartment, some movie Steve had never seen, but was growing more certain that he’d be sat down to watch it before long. He was really hoping she’d be able to carry the weight of the interview. He was supposed to be fully recovered from his concussion now, but he still felt like he wasn’t back to normal, back to where he should be. Robin and Eddie and Gareth were all super patient with him when he lost his train of thought or trailed off in the middle of a sentence, but he was worried it would keep him from getting the damn job. He really didn’t want to rely on the money from the government.

If it were up to him, he’d never touch it, just to prove a point, but he’d already had to move some of it to his checking account so he could restock the kitchen after he’d realized how empty it was after getting rid of the old apples and expired milk.

“Why does she get to ride shotgun! You’re my boyfriend, I should be up there with you!” Eddie was outright lamenting now. “Stevieeeee!”

Robin smirked and leaned over so she could stare at Eddie through the rearview mirror, head practically on Steve’s shoulder. “I’m his favorite now, Munson!”

“No way! I had him first!” Eddie shoved a hand up into the front to flip Robin off, making Steve snicker.

He reached over to gently pull Eddie’s wrist away from Robin. “Babe, be nice to her. And for the record, neither of you are my favorite.”

“What?”

“Hey!”

Steve laced his fingers with Eddie’s for a moment as he turned onto the street leading towards Family Video. “Gareth is my favorite, I’ve made this very clear to both of you.”

“What happened to platonic soulmates?”

Steve could feel Robin’s sad kitten eyes, so he didn’t look over. “He was my platonic soulmate first, I have two. And he’s my favorite because he’s not currently arguing over who my favorite is.”

“Does that mean I’m your favorite romantic soulmate?” Eddie shoved himself between the front seats, elbows leaning on the center console. “I’m your favorite romantic soulmate, aren’t I, Steve?”

“You are, obviously.” Steve rolled his eyes, fondness simmering in his gut. He wished he could lean over and kiss Eddie, but he was pulling into a parking space, so he settled for gently knocking their heads together. “Okay. Out of my car. Let’s go.”

Robin snatched Steve’s resume as she got out of the car. “You put Wayne as a reference?”

“Yeah, he’s like, a hard worker and super cool. Plus he thinks I’m a good influence on Eddie.”

“You’re not.”

Eddie snickered, straightening Steve’s vest. “You’re a fantastic influence on me, Stevie.”

Steve stuck his tongue out at Robin and reached over the car until she handed him the resume back. “Woah, what’s going in over there?” He gestured across the street with the paper.

He wasn’t sure if he ever remembered a business being in the building across the street, it had always been kind of rundown. But now, there was a small crew of people doing renovations, and sticking out like a sore thumb was a boy who looked to be around their age in brightly colored clothes and long, long hair tied back in a ponytail. He was holding a clipboard and chatting eagerly with a woman in a hard hat. Robin tilted her head, watching. “I think I heard it’s going to be a pizza place. Some chain from the west coast that’s expanding. I’m not sure why they’d pick Hawkins, but it’ll be nice to have some decent pizza out here.”

Eddie’s face scrunched up and he leaned against Steve. “West coast pizza? Yeah, we’ll see.” He dropped a hand down to give Steve’s ass the quickest little squeeze. “Alright, break a leg in your interview! I’ll be right next door.”

“Break a leg? I thought I wasn’t supposed to break any more bones?” Steve smirked at the exasperated eye roll that earned him. “Okay, okay, I’m going!” He hopped up onto the curb and pulled open the door, making a sweeping gesture for Robin to go ahead of him.

He’d been in Family Video before, it was the only place to rent movies in Hawkins, but he’d never thought about the people that worked there. He recognized Keith from school, he’d been in Eddie’s original graduating class. He was pretty sure he’d been in the A/V club. But Keith glowered at him and Steve had the sinking feeling that he’d been a dick to him at some point or another. He got that feeling sometimes when he could feel someone glaring at the back of his head at Bradley’s or Melvald’s, or when he was herding the kids around town. He squared his shoulders and bumped his elbow against Robin’s as they approached the counter.

She wordlessly slid the resumes across the counter to Keith and Steve cringed at the state of his. It was slightly crumbled and had shaky pen scribbling out one of his references. He had to blink a few times as he thought about the name that had been there, Joyce promising a glowing recommendation when he’d asked to put her name down before he’d even applied at Scoops Ahoy. Robin had managed to get a new copy of hers printed, her references being a teacher who had moved out of town when he’d been a junior, the best English teacher he’d ever had, and one of her mom’s friends, a woman named Dorothy who lived in the city. And Robin had eagerly joked about her being a “friend of Dorothy” too. Which, well, it was cute to see Robin laughing over her own jokes.

Steve shifted uncomfortably and pressed his hands against the counter, hoping it would get them to stop fucking shaking. It was constant and embarrassing and he could barely eat anything with a spoon anymore unless he held the bowl directly under his face. But putting his hands on the counter made it feel like his entire arms were shaking instead.

“Why would you want to work here?” Keith’s voice sounded bored and Steve had to sympathize. It was summer, sure, but it was also the middle of the week and the store was dead. He’d be bored too.

Oh god, if he got this job he was going to be bored.

Steve looked over at Robin, silently pleading her to take the lead, and thank god they were developing whatever silent language they had, because she just smiled at Keith. “Well, after working at Scoops Ahoy, I’d say we really developed a, um, a passion for customer service. I’ve also worked several other retail jobs and really think this is where I can shine!” Her smile looked a little more strained when Keith’s eyes moved to Steve.

“Oh. Um, well, Scoops definitely was… a job.” Oh fuck, he was blowing it. “That we no longer have. So we’re uh, seeking employment… here. Instead.” He could see Robin’s expression out of the corner of his eye and he knew it was bad, but he didn’t prepare. He should’ve thought ahead and prepared for questions, gotten some kind of script in his head for this. “Because we’re passionate about movies,” he tacked on.

Keith’s expression gave away very little, concern twisting in Steve’s gut as he was stared down. “And you don’t work there anymore, why?”

“It burned down,” Robin blurted out. “We weren’t like, fired or anything, really. The whole mall burned down and a bunch of people died. That’s why we aren’t there anymore.”

Steve nodded. A little too fast, actually, his head swimming when he stopped and Robin’s hand on his arm was the only thing that kept his knees from giving out. “We wore the company uniform until the mall collapsed in on itself.” That might’ve been a lie, he didn’t know when the paramedics had changed him out of the horrible uniform. “Because we’re dedicated employees.”

Keith sighed and it looked like he wanted to be anywhere else. “Top three movies. Go.”

“Oh! Uh, The Apartment, Children of Paradise, and The Hidden Fortress.” Robin’s answer came easily.

Steve was trying to remember the last movie he’d seen when Keith snapped his fingers at him. “Uh, uh… oh, Animal House, easy. And… Star Wars!”

“A New Hope?”

“A New what?” Steve blinked and could see Robin dropping her head into her hands. “You know, the one with the little teddy bears?” He tried to imitate the little creatures. Okay, he didn’t remember a lot of the details, he’d watched it with Eddie and kind of ended up on his knees partway through it, and after that he’d been so comfy and curled up in Eddie’s arms that the details had slipped. Shit, one more movie. What was the one he’d watched with Robin…? “And- and the one that just came out? What’s it called, uh, the one with the DeLorean and Alex P. Keaton trying to bang his mom?” He cleared his throat. “Those are my top three. Classics.”

Keith stared for a long moment and Steve felt his heart drop. “You,” Keith pointed at Robin, “start Monday.” He pointed to Steve. “You start never.”

Fuck. Steve hadn’t… not expected this outcome, but it still stung. Maybe he could see if Melvald’s had filled Joyce’s position yet, as much as the idea made him queasy. Summer wasn’t quite over, he could probably work at the pool for a month until he found something else, maybe the pizza place would open by then. Robin pushed him aside gently as he reached for his resume. “Why don’t you give us a minute?”

He nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. He was pretty sure the whole Starcourt thing had made him weaker. More sensitive. He ducked behind a shelf and wiped at his eyes with a sigh. Fuck, he just needed a goddamn job. Eddie was adamant that his father was wrong, but not having a job or any college prospects was making him feel like a disappointment. Maybe he should’ve taken his chances and not lied about IOU. He still would’ve been in Hawkins for the summer, and yeah, leaving Eddie and Gareth and the kids would’ve sucked, but right now he felt useless. He sighed and ran a finger through the dust at the edge of one of the shelves.

Damn it, he should’ve mentioned how good he was at cleaning. He maintained his house, he could totally keep the shelves clean. He looked down at the floor, making a face at a stain next to his sneaker. He could probably clean up the carpets too.

He peeked past a cutout of Phoebe Cates, an advertisement for Fast Times at Ridgemont High, to look at Robin as she spoke to Keith. And when he tried to turn away, his foot snagged on the bottom of the shelf.

He let out a sharp sound as he pitched forward against the cutout. He held his resume in his mouth and managed to swoop forward to catch the cutout before it fell with a sharp swear. Keith and Robin were staring at him and he felt his cheeks flush. “I forgot about Fast Times!” He awkwardly held up the cardboard Phoebe. “Total top three, great movie!”

He cleared his throat awkwardly as Robin grinned at him. He flashed her a thumbs up and she snorted and ducked her head. That had to be a good sign. She waved him over and he did his best to step around the cardboard cutout this time, managing to avoid knocking her over again. “Hi.”

Keith let out a long sigh and pointed at Steve. “You start Monday. On thin ice. Robin is going to be keeping a very close eye on you.”

Steve nodded seriously. “Understood.” He went to lift a hand to salute, but that seemed dorky and would probably look sarcastic. He paused with his arm halfway up, but Robin just pushed his arm down. “What time?”

“You’ll be working opening shifts, 9:30 to 2. We can discuss her hours when school starts at the end of the month. You’ll likely move to closing, got it?”

Steve nodded quickly, feeling like he didn’t quite get it. He wanted to, he really did, his head just felt like it wasn’t keeping up. Robin reached out and loosely wrapped her hand around his wrist, splinted finger pressing into his skin. She definitely got it.

She calmly led him out of the store and waited for the door to close behind them before letting out a little shriek. “We did it! We got the job!”

“We got the job!” Steve held up an arm and laughed as she threw herself against him. “Thank you. I have no idea what you said, but you did it!”

“You don’t need to worry about what I said. You just need to worry about getting your official cinema education.” She patted his cheek. “And I’m taking charge! You’re coming over tonight and we’re watching Citizen Kane.”

“I have no idea what that’s about. Sounds like a plan.” Steve nodded seriously and Robin giggled.

“Okay, okay, come on, we have to see if your boy got his job!” She tugged his arm and pulled him towards the arcade.

Steve wasn’t like, intimately familiar with the arcade. Most of the games gave him headaches, but he liked skeeball well enough and he and Lucas fought for the high score on the basketball game tucked in the back. It was just so damn loud in the arcade though.

Eddie was laughing with a woman behind the prize counter, which definitely seemed like a good sign. When he saw them, he beamed and waved at them. Locks of hair had fallen out of his bun and were framing his face in a way that made Steve want to kiss him. To be fair, most things he did were done in a way that made Steve want to kiss him. “Steve, Bobin!”

Robin rolled his eyes. “He’s gonna have to pick a nickname and let it stick.”

“He’s not gonna do that, you know that.” Steve laughed and headed over to the prize counter. “Hey Eddie.”

Eddie drummed his hands against the counter, rings clacking against the glass unpleasantly. “Guess who’s the newest employee of Palace Arcade!”

Robin squealed. “Eddie! Congrats! Guess who convinced Keith to hire two people for one job listing!”

Eddie held up his hands to high five her, his fingers wrapping over hers. God, his hands were big. Steve tugged his gaze away from Eddie’s hands to grin. “Guess we’ll have to carpool more often.”

Eddie nodded and scooted around the counter, clearly jamming his hip into the corner of it. “Ow!” He grimaced and shuffled to squeeze between Steve and Robin. “Thanks Patricia! See you Monday!” He ushered them out of the arcade and grinned. “Look at that, legally employed twice in one year. You’re not even gonna recognize me anymore.”

Steve tilted his head against Eddie’s shoulder. “I’d always recognize you.” He giggled as Robin pretended to gag. “Shut up, don’t be homophobic.”

“I’m very homophobic. Until I get a girlfriend, I’m going to be homophobic.” She stood on her toes to kiss Eddie’s cheek, making him fake gag too.

“You’re the worst, both of you.” Steve twirled his keys around his finger, fumbled them, and had to bend down to pick them up. “The worst!”

“Yeah, we’re-” Eddie cut himself off. “Is he… waving to us?”

Steve stood back up and looked across the street. Sure enough, the boy he’d seen earlier with the clipboard was waving eagerly at them. Steve raised an eyebrow, but shrugged and waved back. “He’s gotta be new in town. Maybe we’ll run into him.”

Robin shrugged and climbed in the car with a little yell of “Shotgun!” She slumped down in the seat and looked up at the sky. “Probably. It’s not like there’s anywhere to hide in Hawkins!”

“This old bastard of a town.” Eddie got in the back and hooked his chin over the back of Steve’s seat. “So. Where to next, Steve?”

He smiled and started the car. “To the future, I guess.”

“Boo,” Robin jeered from the passenger seat.

Eddie giggled. “She’s right baby, you’re not quite a modern day philosopher.”

He rolled his eyes with a sigh as he backed out of the parking spot. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll stop trying to be introspective.” Steve pretended to be annoyed but in all actuality, well.

He was really fucking happy.