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Chapter Text

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh no, oh shit, oh my god—"

"Calm down, Jesus, it's okay," Steve said. He reached for his best friend's shoulder, giving her a gentle shake. Robin's eyes were wide, panicked. Her big blue eyes stared at the wreckage. "Hey, hey, look at me," Steve said. He stepped out in front of her, trying to redirect her attention. 

"’Okay’?" Robin demanded, eyes wrenching away from the scene to look at him. "How are things okay, Steven?! Your car, I can't— I can't believe—"

"Shh, hey, hey, listen, it's going to be okay," Steve said slowly, trying to keep her attention focused on him, trying to calm her down. "I promise, hey, no, look at me, it's okay. Take a breath, in and out." He wasn’t usually the one in this position. Frankly, he wasn’t sure how he wasn’t freaking out himself, but well, here they were. Maybe because Robin's reaction was enough for the two of them, holy shit. 

"I'm so so sorry, Steve," Robin said, burying her face in her hands. "How could I do that? You should've never put me behind the wheel! My parents are going to kill me! Your parents are going to kill me!" 

Steve considered that. It'd been a simple enough decision going into it. Robin needed to learn how to drive, Steve was fine with teaching her. She wasn't a bad student, just anxious. That's all. "Listen, you weren't driving, okay?" Steve said, running his tongue over his bottom lip as the idea started to take hold. Robin's head snapped up so fast Steve was surprised she didn’t get whiplash. 

"What are you talking about? Of course I was driving! I totally wrecked—"

"No, no," Steve said, shaking his head, warming to his idea. "You weren't driving, okay? I was driving. This won't be a mark against you or anything, got it? When the cops get here, we'll just... say I was in the driver's seat, okay? It's not your fault. You were just a passenger." 

Robin stared at him in confusion, brow pinched like she couldn’t comprehend the words he was saying. "No, Steve, this is one hundred percent my fault. I can't let you do that; are you kidding?" 

"You are gonna let me do that, Robs, and it's going to be fine." 

"What? No. No." She shook her head, waved her hands, adamant. "I can't let you— I— I won’t."

"Yeah, you are. Okay, look, you think your parents are gonna be willing to let you set foot out of the house if you crashed the Bimmer? No, it's better this way."

Robin paused when Steve brought up her parents. Steve saw her worrying at her bottom lip. She glanced at the BMW's ruined hull then back to him. "What about your parents?" she prodded softly. Based on her tone, he knew she was about to agree. He just had to bring it home.

Shrugging, Steve shook his head. "They'll live. It's fine. Not like I crashed one of their cars." Not like I haven't disappointed them already. What's one more? He could imagine the reaction he'd receive when he got home. When he had to tell them he crashed his car beyond repair. His father's quiet anger. His mother's disappointment. 

They'll live.

While he wasn't sure what he'd do without a car, he had some savings. He doubted his parents would wanna buy him a new one after this. It was fine, he'd figure it out later. Right now, it was more important to take care of Robin who still looked seconds away from throwing up, bursting into tears or hyperventilating. 

Maybe all three. 

"Steve, I..." She shook her head. "Are you sure?"

"Crystal." 

Both of them frowned at the same time. Steve shook his head. "I mean, yes, I'm sure. It's gonna be okay. Promise." 

"Okay," Robin said, her shoulders deflating a little. 

It was going to be okay. 

— —

The police had to fill out a report. Neither of them were hurt, thank God. Kind of a miracle, if Steve thought about it long enough. Both of them walking away without a scratch? He wasn't sure what that spelled for future luck, but he'd take it. The cops offered Robin a ride at least. He thought it was because she still looked pale as a ghost. He told her to get home safe and he'd call her in the morning. 

A tow truck was called and Steve just... watched them haul away the car he'd had since he was sixteen. He'd come out into the driveway on his sixteenth birthday to find his very own car waiting for him. His dad handed him the keys while his mom looked on proudly. Steve had been astounded.

It'd seen him through so many things. He'd made out in that car, took his first road trip in that car, with Tommy (back when they were still friends). So many late night cruises that felt like his own personal haven. His car could take him away from his parents, away from his life. Could take him anywhere he wanted if he just drove and drove and drove...

All gone now. 

He wanted to say goodbye to her, but... thought of how ridiculous that might look. A grown man saying goodbye to his crushed-up car? Fucking juvenile. So he stood, arms crossed, watched the tow truck load her up, and take her away. 

The police, those that remained, asked if he wanted a ride and Steve refused. Said he was going to walk. They left him to it and he watched them go, all the way until the lights faded. Just him on a slice of darkened road. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting to feel. Loss? Grief? Anger? Sadness? 

He shoved his hands in his pockets and started walking, the street empty and quiet, just him alone with his thoughts.

— —

As predicted, his parents did not take the news well. Steve had waited to spring it on them until the following morning. Figured he'd enjoy one more night of good sleep without the extra layer of his parent's dismay hanging over him.

It wasn’t pretty, not that Steve was expecting it to be. He was on thin ice, his father said. As if he hadn't been on dangerously thin ice for years now. The disappointment hung heavy and thick, his father clicking his tongue, breathing into the air exasperatedly, demanding to know when his son was going to grow the fuck up? 

Steve took it all, hung his head, nodded, didn’t dare talk back. He'd heard it all before. How his parents had done their best for him. How Steve had had every opportunity to make something of himself. Consistently and utterly fucking it up again and again every single time. 

Nothing new. 

At least it wasn't Robin. Her parents would have a field day. In fact, he was sure they were going to be wary of even letting the two of them hang out, let alone drive in the same vehicle as him. 

He'd fix it later. Robin's parents happened to like him. He could turn on the charm and smooth it all over sometime soon.

— —

Steve kept his head down, avoiding his parents in the days to come. There was an old bicycle in the garage; he used that to get to and from places. The bike was so old it had rust on it, but still worked fine. He found he did not miss cycling like, at all. He missed his own car more and more with each passing day. 

Hawkins didn’t have a big dealership. None of the cars called to him after he'd had a look around. Steve decided to try his luck in the next town over. He had to take the bus there, but still. Maybe it was silly, wanting to find a car that just... felt right. He didn't get to choose his first car, but he loved her all the same. Got comfortable with her, familiar, knew what every sound, creak, and groan meant.

Now that it was his choice, he wanted to find something that gave him that same feeling. Maybe that was stupid. Maybe he should be looking at like, longevity and cost and mileage and all that crap. Probably smarter if he did, but well, Steve never claimed to be that smart. 

Unfortunately, none of the cars there spoke to him either. One of the employees told him there was an auto salvage nearby. He said the guy that ran it might have something, that he found some good stuff sometimes. May even be cheaper. Steve decided to test his luck, not holding out much hope. 

The place itself left... a little something to be desired. Cars, mostly rusted out, stripped to their bare bones littered the place in rows, one on top of the other. Steve walked through the place feeling like he'd stepped into some sort of automobile graveyard. The whole place was quiet. A light breeze played with his hair as his shoes crunched gravel. 

Up until a hulking monster of a dog came tearing out of nowhere. The big, muscular, black and brown Rottweiler sent his pulse jumping about a mile high before the dog stopped dead a few feet short of him. It barked then sat there, its tongue lolling out. 

"Hey, hey there," Steve said, glancing around before tentatively reaching a hand out for the dog to sniff. It did, letting out a slight chuff of air. It bumped its head against Steve's hand. Steve relaxed considerably, scratching it behind the ears. He smiled when the dog started really leaning into his touch. 

"Sammy!" a man's voice called from out of view. "Sammy, get back here, where d'ya think you're—oh." The speaker came into view. He had a faded baseball cap on his head, stained jeans, and an old flannel to complete the ensemble. He swept his gaze up and down Steve as he walked closer. "Help you?" he asked, no ‘can I’ no ‘hey there’, just straight to it. Steve could appreciate that. 

"Yeah, I heard you might have some cars for sale," Steve began and the man smiled. 

"Sure do."

The man, after introducing himself as Bobby, walked him around the place. It seemed like a fucking maze from Steve’s perspective, but the old man seemed to know his way around. Steve followed along behind him blindly. He made small talk on autopilot, but he barely needed to say more than a few 'uh huh's' and 'yeah's' and 'really's' because Bobby? Apparently, he liked to chat. 

Or maybe he was just hard-pressed for company, Steve wasn’t sure. Either way, his voice was easy to tune out. Not that that was Steve's intent, but nothing Bobby was saying was really grabbing his interest. The man pointed out the few, thankfully, not falling apart vehicles he did have for sale, in a nice big open garage. There were a few fine cars in there. Steve could tell that the guy knew his automobiles.

Still, none of the cars that Steve was shown captured his attention. They were nice cars, don't get him wrong, but none of them felt like his. Maybe that was supposed to come with time, though. Maybe a car started to feel like yours once you'd had it for a while. All he knew was that his car had felt like his the moment he sat behind her wheel the first time. 

Bobby could tell that Steve wasn’t really sold on any of them, so he told him to take a look around the place, that maybe something would catch his eye. Those were just the ones that were ready to be sold, but he had more. Steve thought, it couldn't hurt to look around, could it? 

The salvage yard was quiet as Steve walked up and down the rows. Sammy the dog followed along beside him. It made Steve smile, He occasionally stopped to give him some scratches or throw a ball the dog brought over to him. It was when Steve threw the rather soggy old tennis ball down the end of one row and the ball bounced into the grass next to a car covered in a tarp that Steve paused, intrigued. 

He walked down the row towards it. The fall breeze picked up, catching the tarp. It flapped open to reveal a flash of red. Bright red. The BMW was red. Sammy picked up the ball and trotted back to Steve expectantly, wagging his tailless rump, but Steve's attention was elsewhere.

He wouldn't have done this under normal circumstances. But Bobby told him to look around, so Steve pulled back the tarp, exposing the bright, metallic red sheen of one of the finest cars he'd ever seen. It was red. He knew that from the brief glimpse, but it was red red. Bright, in your face red.

Red like blood. 

It looked... it looked almost brand new. Steve walked around it, peering in through the windows. Nice leather seats. Bigger than his old car. Wider. Longer. There was nothing wrong with it, as far as he could tell. Was this one for sale? It was... beautiful. 

"Ah, see you found it," Bobby said, chuckling and wiping his hands on a grease-stained rag before stuffing it in his back pocket. "Not very well hidden, I s'pose."

"It?" Steve questioned, an eyebrow going up before looking back at the car, fingers itching to run over the lines of the hood. "It's stunning." 

"1967 Chevy Impala," Bobby said with a nod. "Won't find a prettier car out on the road, that's for sure. Not just easy on the eyes, neither. This baby got an engine that'll purr like a kitten under the right hands. Take you far, anywhere you wanna go." 

"Alright," Steve said, eyes brightening with excitement, already picturing himself behind the wheel. "How much?" 

Bobby let out the sharpest bark of laughter Steve had ever heard, shaking his head. 

"Oh, no, not this one. Not for sale."

"No?" Steve asked, turning back to the man though it felt like a travesty to tear his gaze away from the car. "Why not?" 

Bobby rubbed the back of his neck. "Everything I said is true. Impala's are great. '67 is a great year, but this one specifically? Already tried to sell it once and the guy brought it back."

Narrowing his eyes, Steve glanced back at the car. "Why? What's wrong with it?"

"Nothing, technically," he answered with a shrug. "Runs beautifully. Inspected it myself, top to bottom."

"So...?" 

"The guy was just... real spooked when he brought it back. Said the radio kept glitching. The lights flickered." He shook his head before crossing his arms over his chest. "I never would've sold it without making sure it passed the mark and I looked into the issues he brought up but found nothin'. So, either the fella was a few screws loose or I'm losing my touch. Either way, wasn't gonna put this one back on the market until I gave it the once over again." 

"But you said you checked into it all already?" Steve asked. "Seems fine to me. I swear I'm not the superstitious sort. C'mon," Steve said with a smile, drawing on all the Harrington charm he'd cultivated back in high school. "How about we just take it for a test drive?" 

Which is how Steve ended up driving home in the beast. The guy wasn't wrong—the engine was powerful, Steve could feel it as he drove back to Hawkins. The way it almost felt like the car wanted to accelerate and speed down the highway at lightspeed. She drove beautifully, actually. The size was an adjustment, but it just... felt right behind the wheel. 

Steve couldn't explain it, but he'd gotten that feeling as soon as he'd opened the door and slid into the seat, set his hands upon the wheel, and run his grip over the circle. The car was fucking gorgeous, inside and out. Just beautiful. It felt like he got a good price, too. Maybe a little higher than he was hoping to pay for a new car, but still within his budget. He was glad he'd been squirrelling away each and every paycheck from Family Video. He had his own little nest egg should the day come where his parents decided he was too much trouble to house and feed.

Of course, that nest egg was kind of depleted now, but as Steve took the road home, he couldn't help but think that it was worth it. This thing handled like a dream. Steve was impressed. He felt good about it, all things considered. He couldn't wait to show Robin. Hear her ooh and aah. Or make fun of him. It would be one of the two and he wasn't sure which, but he felt like she'd have to appreciate the car, right? How could you not? Look at her.

Because his parents might be at home, Steve decided not to return right away. Instead, he drove down Hawkins' Main Street. Which, wasn't saying much for their small town. He drove by the Hawk and passed the unfortunate alley where he'd had his altercation with Jonathan - not something he liked to think about. But that was all in the past. They were friends now... or... friendly, at least. He headed for the little soda shop to get himself a little treat.

Steve didn't want to get ice cream inside his brand new car, so he leaned against the side of it and licked his scoop of vanilla, smiling at some ladies as they walked by. He saw them side-eye him and the car, giggling at each other, which just made him grin all the more. He was thinking of maybe asking them if they wanted to take a closer look, to start a conversation, ya know, when the car horn blared. 

Steve jumped, dropping his cone on the sidewalk. He whipped his head towards the vehicle. He'd rolled the window down while he'd been driving, enjoying the breeze in his hair even though it was a little bit cold out. It was still down now. Had he knocked against the horn somehow? He didn't think so. He couldn't recall touching it or brushing against it, but he must've. 

"Goddammit," Steve muttered as he looked at his ruined cone, white ice cream pooling beneath it. There was no way of salvaging that. Shit. Sighing, he climbed back into the car and took off for home, the entire fiasco fading from his mind. 

— —

The car was great. Steve loved it. He was pretty sure he loved it. 

But the car was fucking weird, too. 

At least, Steve was starting to think so. 

He didn't notice much at first. The first time the lights flickered, Steve just assumed it was the wiring. That's what the salvage guy had said, right? The former buyer claimed the lights were acting up. It was only the once and Steve didn't think much of it. It wasn't interfering with the way the car ran, and once they were on, they were on, so if they flickered a little at first, what of it? 

But then there was the radio. 

It would just... come on sometimes when Steve was absolutely certain he'd turned it off. It was almost always set to a station that Steve had never heard of, certainly never listened to himself, that played this heavy, pounding rock shit with the volume turned way, way louder than Steve could remember ever having set the volume to. 

He thought it was a glitch. Or maybe the controls were really sensitive. He was careful when he tried to adjust anything, but he wasn't sure how he could be messing it up every single time. 

One night, he was on a date, and it was going well, like, really well. They'd parked out by Lake Jordan and Steve was pulling out all his classic moves. He thought the gal, Stacey, was pretty cool. She was smart, wanted to be a vet. She was fucking gorgeous, too, with big blue eyes and this wild curly blonde hair. 

When the moment was right (they both knew why they were there, right?), Steve went in for the kiss. She kissed back, eagerly, almost took him by surprise, but he didn't mind that. He got a hand in her hair. Listened to every hitch and gasp of her breath. It was all going fantastically until—

"Sanitarium!"

Steve jumped. Stacey jumped. Music blared from the speakers, filling the car until it felt like the music was pounding inside his head. 

"What is that?" Stacey shouted to be heard over the fucking stereo. 

"Leave me be—"

"I— I don't know, give me a second," Steve shouted back, trying, in vain, to turn the volume down, but the knob seemed stuck. 

"Sanitarium!"

"Turn it off!" Stacey said, covering her ears and Steve wanted to roll his eyes. 

"I'm trying," he said, twisting the knob so hard he was surprised it didn't come off. When that failed, he jammed at the button to turn the whole thing off.

"Just leave me—"

Silence flooded the car. Steve panted softly and swiped a hand through his hair. What the fuck? 

Stacey wasn't in the mood to continue their rendezvous after that, so Steve drove her home. He asked her if she wanted to go out again and got a scoff in response before she was stomping off into her house as Steve stared after her. He pulled out of her drive and drove home, chewing on the pad of his thumb in blissful silence. He eyed the radio a few times, pondering. 

When he got home, he turned the car off, then sat there. "Shit," he said, leaning forward to press his forehead against the steering wheel, sighing heavily before pushing himself back up. "What was that, huh?" he asked, tapping his fingers against the dashboard.

The car didn't have any answers for him. Maybe he should take her to a mechanic or something, someone besides the salvage guy. Get a second set of eyes to look her over. Seemed like a good idea. "Whaddya think?" he asked aloud. "Go somewhere nice, get you all fixed up, huh, girl?" 

The horn went off. Steve jumped back in his seat even though there was nowhere to go. He eyed where his hands were stationed at ten and two on the wheel. His heart was pounding, adrenaline spiking hard. He was sure... he was sure that time his hands hadn't moved. There was no way the horn could've honked like that by itself... right? 

His mother asked him if it'd been him honking his car in the driveway when he got inside. Steve waved his hand dismissively, saying he'd hit it accidentally before he jogged upstairs, went to his room, and leaned against the door for a moment. He... he must've hit it, somehow, right? There couldn't be another explanation.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow, he'd take her and get her looked at, yeah. There was a logical explanation for all of this. He was certain. 

— —

"Nothing wrong with it." 

"There's gotta be something," Steve insisted, his arms folded across his chest. The mechanic wiped her hands on a rag. "Like, bad wiring? You looked at the radio, right?" 

"Yep," she said, giving him a nod. "Checked it all out, each of your concerns. Gave it a very thorough onceover. Now, I can do it again, if you're convinced, but your car? It's in great condition. If you're looking for something to complain about, though—"

"No, no," Steve said, waving his hand. "I'm not, I just..." He looked over at the car, gleaming red, sunlight reflecting off her hood. She looked perfect. Dazzling. Everything he wanted. "Are you sure?" he asked, turning back to the mechanic. She sighed heavily. 

"I'll look at it again."

— —

A second look turned up nothing and Steve figured he was just imagining things. What that old guy said must've gotten in his head. Steve had never been that superstitious, at least, he didn't think he was. This was making him reconsider his stance on the supernatural. Maybe there were some things in life that couldn't be explained.

Steve stopped at the gas station on the way home. He needed to fill up the tank anyway. He was lost in his thoughts, trying to convince himself each scenario had an explanation. They must have.

He'd been tired lately from picking up extra shifts at Family Video to try and make a little extra money. He wasn't fully paying attention to what he was doing so when his thumb caught on something sharp and jagged, he hissed. Pulling his hand away, he studied the cut as blood welled up.

He peered at what had caught him, something glinting on the edge of the petrol stand. He better not get tetanus from this. He maneuvered the nozzle into the gasoline tank with his injured hand, feeling blood dripping down over his thumb. "Shit." It was bleeding more than he thought. 

Steve wrapped a tissue around his thumb then put the hose away. When he dug his keys out, he promptly dropped them underneath the steering wheel. Great, this night was just getting better and better. As he bent over to reach for his keys (they'd somehow wound up beneath the seat, rolling away when he tried to reach for them), his fingers brushed against something else. Cool. Metallic. A chain?

Frowning, Steve tried to pull it out from where it lay, but the chain was stuck on something underneath the seat. Tongue poking out of his mouth, Steve worked at it, brow creasing in deep concentration until it popped free. He felt triumphant as he drew it up and out to look at in the light.

It was a simple silver chain. Dangling from it was a red… guitar pick? He thought that’s what it was. Steve brushed over it with his thumb, smearing blood across the surface. He swore under his breath, glancing around for the napkin he'd been using to staunch the bleeding. The bloodied napkin had fallen on the seat. He hung the necklace up on the rearview mirror out of the way before reaching for the napkin. There wasn't much light to examine his cut, so he gave up trying. He got into the driver’s seat and put the keys in the ignition.

As he pulled out of the gas station, back onto the road, he kept thinking back to what the mechanic had said. Nothing wrong with the car. And yeah, there didn't seem to be anything wrong with her, so what was he looking for? An excuse? He didn't need to hear it from his parents if he tried to return the car he'd chosen on his own, based on a feeling rather than hard research. Facts. They'd accused him of choosing something for style over substance, but that wasn't it at all... the car just felt... right. He didn’t know how to explain it.

On the way home, the engine grew really, really loud then started sputtering. Steve stared at it in confusion. The car made noises like it wanted to accelerate, almost like it was straining to go faster. The engine kept amping up and up, then dying. Steve quickly pulled to the side of the road just as the engine cut off completely. 

"No," he scoffed in disbelief. "No, no, no, c'mon." He tried to get the engine started and heard it struggling. "God, fuck, c'mon, girl, don't do this to me." 

The engine roared and Steve laughed, slapping a hand against the dashboard. "Yeah, that's right, good girl, God, thank you." The car jerked forward an inch even though Steve hadn't put his foot against the gas pedal. His exuberance faded. Every muscle froze as he waited to see if the car would move again. 

"Call me a girl one more time, I swear to god…"

The voice was deep, masculine—a rich, low tone that filled the car. It sounded like it was coming from right beside him, or… in front of him. Behind him? Steve whipped his head around, convinced there was someone else in here, but... he was alone. 

"Hel...lo?" 

"Wait. Can you... fuck, can you hear me?"

Chapter Text

Steve unbuckled at lightspeed, scrambling out of the car halfway into the road. He stared at the car with wide eyes.

"What the fuck?" he muttered, raising his hands and pushing them back through his hair, letting out a breath. He'd... he'd hit his head or something. He was hallucinating. He was having a fucking nightmare. There was some kind of explanation. There had to be. The car hadn't... hadn't talked. That was fucking ridiculous. Impossible. No, no, Steve was fucking imagining things or he'd gotten high and couldn't remember. The hell? 

There was silence. Nothing but the sound of some night critters chirping along the darkened road. Steve took another few breaths. That was it. He was just tired or... or something. Cautiously, he approached the car, slid into the driver's seat, and slowly buckled. He did everything with the utmost caution, afraid any wrong move would make the car speak again. 

He'd gotten settled. The keys back in the ignition. He started driving back home, the car silent again except for the purr of the engine. He hadn't been driving very long when...

"You good there, man?"

Steve slammed on the brakes so hard his head whipped forward and hit the visor. "God, fuck—" he said, putting a hand against his forehead. Took him a moment to realize the engine was revving in these short, cutoff bursts, reminding him almost of... laughter?

The car... the car had talked. The car had talked. 

"Uh... sorry 'bout that, but you kinda did that to yourself. You can hear me, right?"

"No, no, no," Steve said, shaking his head and quickly unbuckling. "This is crazy, this is crazy, this is crazy!" He reached for the door handle but the lock depressed. Steve stared at it in horror, a surge of panic rising and clawing at his throat. He plucked at the lock to raise it, but it simply depressed again. 

"Crazy, huh? Wanna see something real crazy?" 

"What? No, no, unlock this door," Steve said, turning back to the radio where the speaker's voice was coming through. "I'm not—God, I'm not talking to a car!" 

"Hate to break it to ya, man, but you kinda are." 

"Let me out right now—"

"Admit you can hear me first." 

Steve went quiet, his jaw clenching. This was ridiculous. Fucking ridiculous. His car wasn't talking to him. He wasn't talking to his car! There was no fucking way; he was dreaming, hallucinating, something. He reached for the lock again and when that didn't work, he dove for the passenger side door. 

"Well, I warned ya." 

The car lurched forward. Steve rolled forward with the speed, letting out a yelp of surprise as the engine roared. The car was moving. Fuck, the car was moving! He wasn't even touching the pedals. Steve scrambled for purchase as the car accelerated down the road, trying to right himself. 

"Slow down, slow down, stop the car!" he yelled as the car only got faster, the force of it pressing him further against the seats. 

"Sure thing," the car purred. "Just as soon as you admit you can hear me, man. It's not that hard. Can. You. Hear. Me?"

"Fuck you!"

The engine revved again, those short, little bursts. Steve had the distinct impression it was laughing at him. He glowered at the radio. 

"Wrong answer, Big Boy." 

The car sped up and Steve couldn't catch a glimpse of the speedometer, but he was sure they had to be going over seventy. He huffed, groaned, tried to catch onto the back of the seat, hoisting himself up into a sitting position just as the radio started to blare again. 

"You'll take my life, but I'll take yours too, you'll fire your musket, but I'll run you through—"

The music was loud, pounding in his skull. Steve gritted his teeth as he finally got up, breathing hard and grabbing onto the wheel, but it was locked into place. 

"Goddammit," he swore, foot finding the gas, but it was pressed all the way to the floor. He switched to the brake, but it wouldn’t budge. "C'mon, stop, stop, okay? Fucking—just stop, c'mon! You're gonna get us both killed!" 

"Ha! Oh, ye of little faith. You got something to say to me?" 

"Fine, yes!" Steve shouted, slamming his hands against the wheel. "I can, fuck—I can fucking hear you, okay? Just stop, please." 

"Well," the car said, sounding amused, "since you said 'please'." 

Gradually the car decelerated, slower and slower, until it finally came to a stop by the side of the road. The music cut off. Steve thought he might be shaking, gripping the steering wheel for dear life. The sound of his heavy breathing filled the interior of the car. There was nothing, no space in his brain for him to figure out what the fuck had just happened. 

"What the fuck?!" he demanded, finally breaking down. "This is... it's impossible." It was insane. Cars didn't talk. "What the hell is going on?" He was going insane, like, certifiably insane. The car didn't answer immediately (what a crazy sounding thought to even go through his brain) and Steve stared at the wheel, then looked out across the hood, the brief glint of the moon reflecting off the chrome. "What? You're not going to talk now? Answer me!"

"Nah, it's way more funny to watch you lose it. You done?" 

"What... What the fuck are you?"

"Finally asking the right questions, round of applause for the man." Recorded applause crackled through the radio suddenly. Steve flinched at the sound, brow drawing down. "Look, you got a lot of questions, I can tell, do you really wanna—"

There was a rap of knuckles against the window and Steve swore he might've jumped ten feet out of his skin, heart practically bursting through his ribcage. He looked up to see a familiar face and rolled his window down, swallowing hard. 

"Officer Callahan," Steve said, glancing up at the man with wide eyes, fighting for normalcy with his tone. "Evening."

"Evening," Callahan replied, eyeing him up and down. "You were driving kind of erratically back there. Going well over the speed limit. You aware of that?"

"Uh, yeah, no, sorry," Steve said, mouth feeling way too dry for this conversation. "I uh, I didn't realize. Sorry." Usually, Steve was better at thinking up a lie on the spot, especially to people in authority. Used to know which teachers he could talk his way out of getting in trouble with; it was all about reading people. He was having a hard time tonight, alright? Look at what he was dealing with, please. 

"Okay," Callahan said, shining a flashlight in Steve's face. He blinked and squinted his eyes, resisting the urge to drop his gaze, sure that would only make him look guilty as fuck right now. "You been drinking?" 

The question was so unexpected (maybe Steve should've expected it; it would make the most amount of sense, wouldn’t it?) that Steve laughed. "I wish," he said, because that explanation would resolve a lot of things. Callahan frowned and Steve realized, too late, what he'd said and cleared his throat, shaking his head, trying to shrug as nonchalantly as he could manage. "I—I mean, I—I don't mean—"

"Yeah, gonna need you to step out of the car for me, son."

Steve wanted to glower at the 'son' part. Callahan wasn't old enough to be calling him son. It was demeaning, but Steve managed to keep his face neutral as he stepped out of the car. 

He had to jump through a bunch of hoops but finally managed to convince Callahan that he wasn't drunk. The whole time, the car just sat there, completely still, silent as the fucking grave. Steve shot it a few glares when Callahan wasn't looking. It was the car's fault that Steve was in this fucking mess but the car got to get off without any kind of punishment?

Steve should be glad he got off with a warning and not like, gotten his license suspended or anything. He drove off extremely slowly when Callahan cleared him to go. He glanced at the steering wheel, almost expecting it to be taken from his control again but... nothing happened. 

He only really relaxed once he'd put Callahan far, far behind in his rearview, letting out a heavy breath. "Okay," Steve said aloud, feeling like a fucking idiot. "Hello? Coast is clear." There was only silence and Steve stared hard at the dashboard, wondering if maybe he had been drinking. Hallucinating. Or something else his brain hadn't thought of. "What? You're not there anymore?" He cursed under his breath and shook his head. Great, so he really was fucking losing it. "I'm imagining things, or what?" 

"You're not imagining things."

The voice, still crisp, still clear, as if the speaker were sitting right beside him, echoed through the car. Steve felt a conflicting number of things. The first one was relief that the car had talked back. Second was oh, great, the car had talked back. He was definitely crazy. Third was, the voice was scratching something at the back of his brain. Like he'd heard it before somewhere. 

"Okay, great," Steve said, shrugging and glancing at the radio. "I'm not imagining things. Uh, what the fuck, man? You wanna explain to me what, exactly, the hell is going on? You almost got us killed!" 

"No one was getting killed," the voice said. The exasperated edge to its tone made Steve glower at the radio. "You think I want to crash myself?" 

The car had a point. Didn't seem like it'd be in the best interest of the car to get itself totaled. 

"Alright, then... what? What the fuck? Who... what are you?" 

Silence.

Steve waited expectantly, eyebrows lifting higher and higher up his forehead. "Uh, hello? You hear me? Car?"

"Don't—don't just call me 'car', man, Jesus. I have a name." 

That was... surprising. Threw Steve for a little bit of a loop but he felt he recovered fairly quickly. 

"Okay. What... what is it?" 

Cars can have names. Sure, he'd heard of that before. Most of the time, it was the owner of the car giving it its name and not the car naming itself. The silence stretched on, so long that Steve was turning onto the road for home before he knew it and the car still hadn't replied. 

"You gonna tell me or...?"

"I'm thinking," the car said, with a terseness to its voice that wasn't there before. 

"Thinking...?" Steve replied. "You said you have a name—"

"I do," the car snapped. "I just... I don't... I can't..."

There was anger there in its voice, but also frustration. Steve didn't think the anger was directed at him, or at least he didn't get that sense. There was something else there too, though, underlying the frustration, something that sounded a little like... fear. 

"Do you... not know what it is?" Steve asked, his voice a little softer. 

"You know what, fuck—"

"Wait, wait, wait," Steve said, cutting the car off before it could say something mean. "It's okay," he insisted. "It's okay if you don't know it, remember it, shit. Maybe I can find it?" He cast about inside the car, looking for inspiration, eyes landing on the guitar pick hanging from the rearview mirror. It was red, like the car. Was that important? A clue? 

It still didn't give him a name and Steve wasn't sure why he cared so fucking much about it. It's just that it didn't feel right calling the car 'car' or 'it' or 'she' (which it very clearly did not like). He needed something to call it, for both of their sakes. He thought of the car when he'd found it, gleaming red underneath that tarp. Red? Scarlet? Cherry? The last two definitely felt a little too feminine. Another thought came to him, though, remembering the license plate. 

KAS-86E

"Uh, Kas!" he said, warming to his idea as soon as he'd latched onto it. "Is that it? Your name? Kas?" 

The car didn't respond for a few moments, the engine idling in a way that reminded him of someone humming when they’re thinking. 

"Sure, yeah," the car responded after a moment, speaking slowly, then with more confidence, "Yeah. Kas. My name is Kas."

Steve felt immediate relief and grinned. "Kas," he said, giving a nod. "I like it. Uh, I'm Steve," he said, realizing he hadn't introduced himself. "Steve—"

"Harrington, yeah, I know who you are."

Utter shock went through him and Steve stared at the radio in confusion. 

"You...? How...?"

"You're the guy that bought me, right?" the car, Kas, said. "Of course I know who you are." 

Steve couldn't be sure, felt like that was too easy of an explanation. It left him feeling really confused, but then again, this whole fucking night was chock full of confusion. What was a bit more? He was pulling into his driveway though, so the confusion had to take a back seat as Steve sat there, the engine still on. 

"Look, Kas, I don't... I don't know what the fuck is going on or if I'm like, hallucinating this whole thing but... I'm home now, so…" He let the sentence hang there, not sure what else he could really say. "Maybe a good night's sleep will clear things up," he muttered. 

"Sure, yeah. Have a good night."

"Um... okay, yeah, uh, you, you too—okay."

He turned the car off and unbuckled, got out of the car, shooting it a look as he walked away, but it just sat there. It didn't move or make a sound as he let himself inside the house. 

Steve was kind of glad his room didn't look out over the driveway; thought he would be peeking out the window consistently throughout the night to make sure the fucking car was still there. Tonight was... what the fuck had happened? He still wasn't sure he hadn't somehow made up the entire thing. 

A good night's sleep would solve everything though, right? He just needed a good night's sleep.

— —

The next day, Steve had to work. He really didn't want to. His mind was reeling, but what could he say to Keith? Sorry, I didn't sleep well because my car was talking to me last night. Didn't think that would go over too well. Steve got up a lot earlier than his alarm anyway. He grabbed his work vest and donned it. After he slipped his jacket on, he decided it was too early to deal with the car, so... he was going to walk. Yeah. A nice walk to clear his head. 

It was early enough, still a little dark out, that he could walk to work and still make it there on time. He passed the car in the driveway but gave it a wide berth, didn't even glance in its direction. It felt like his keys were burning a hole in his pocket, but he was pretty sure that was simply his imagination.

Still, once he was at work, Steve put it all out of his mind. Robin wasn't due to arrive until later in the day. It was one of the shifts they didn't work completely together, but at least there was still some overlap. On the days that he couldn't pick her up, like today, she would bike to work or catch a ride with one of her parents, usually her mom. Today was a drop off day. He saw Robin's mother pull up outside, watched Robin hop out of the car and give her mom a wave before jogging towards the entrance. 

Steve had already been at work for two and a half hours, so he was already in a groove. Robin raised a coffee in her hand as she approached. She had one in her other hand, too. "Lifesaver," Steve said as he took the coffee from her (his second cup this morning, bless Robin Buckley) and took a long sip. 

"Jeez, that could've been scalding hot!" Robin scolded, clicking her tongue and shaking her head before sipping from her own coffee. "You're lucky we stopped at the gas station first." 

"Yeah, well, worth it." 

She snorted lightly and then went to clock in, though when she came back she said, "So, where's the car? You said it's red, right?"

"Uh, yeah," Steve said slowly, forgetting he hadn’t had a chance to show the car off to anyone yet, not even Robin. "It's… red." 

"Alright, cool, where is it? You park in the back? I wanna see."

"Uh, no, I walked today."

He felt Robin staring at him and he glanced over to see her looking at him with the most perplexed expression. 

"You walked?" 

"Yeah, you know, it's good for me. Stretch my legs." 

"But you just bought it!"

"Yeah, and I don't wanna like, use it too much," Steve said, shrugging as he logged into the computer to get started on inventory. 

"That makes zero sense, dingus. If I had a new car, well, maybe not a car..." Steve nodded. Robin had been a little... wary of getting behind the wheel of a car again since the accident. "...but you know, when I get something new, I wanna use it all the time, you know? You've got more restraint than I, my friend. Tell me about it, though. What kind of car is it again?" 

Steve explained, describing the car in detail until Robin got sort of a glazed expression on her face and Steve realized he was saying a lot about its engine (his engine?) and the mileage it got, the specs, etc. Stuff Robin probably didn't know too much about considering she'd never had a car of her own. 

She asked him to describe the car (even though Steve insisted that she was going to see it in person soon enough). "I don't know, like, it's a pretty car." 

"Can cars be pretty?" 

"Uh, yeah," Steve said as if that were obvious. "Have you ever seen a Porsche? A Mustang?"

"I don't know if I'd say they're 'pretty'," Robin said, tossing her head and letting out a scoff. "Boys and their cars." 

"It's sexy, how about that? It's a sexy car." 

It talked... but Steve was still wondering if he had been imagining that. Either way, it was a sexy car, right? Steve wasn't odd for thinking that... or maybe it was a little weird considering the car, Kas, was a car. But it just... it was sexy, Steve couldn't deny something so obvious. Muscle cars were sexy. Something about them…

"Sexy?" Robin echoed, pulling a face at him and Steve made a little face back at her, firm in his stance. "Objectifying cars now?" 

"No, that's... cars can be sexy, right?"

"It's an inanimate object." 

"Okay," Steve admitted. "But it's like... it's like art? Right? Ha, yeah, it's like art. You're always pointing out how art can make people feel things, inspire emotion, all that."

"Alright, fine, yeah, I guess in that circumstance... your argument is valid." 

"Ha, damn right it's valid," Steve said, feeling triumphant. He rarely won arguments between them. Robin was just better at arguing, at laying out her facts straight, and Steve wasn't so good at remembering all of the points he wanted to make besides 'no, you're wrong' (even in the rare cases when Robin was wrong). 

There was silence between them for a time until he saw Robin look up at the window out of his peripheral vision. 

"Your car is red, right?" she asked again, even though he’d confirmed it only a few minutes ago already.

"Mm-hmm," Steve responded, not really paying attention, concentrating on typing. He was a slow typer, fingers prone to making mistakes, so he always had to take his time. Keith hated typos. Always went into a hissy fit about it. Steve just had thick fingers, but he couldn't pass the job off to Robin every time. Even if she was the faster, more accurate typist. 

"And it's a Chevy, right?" 

"Yep, 1967 Chevy Impala."

"Alright, so, either someone has the exact same car as you or you lied to me and you did drive into work today!" she said, swatting at his arm. 

"Ow! Hey—" Steve said, rubbing his arm and then turning towards the window to follow her gaze. "Oh my God." He felt his stomach plummet all the way to the floor. The car was parked outside. The car. The fucking car. Sitting there, right out front, perfectly innocently. Steve felt his jaw drop and Robin poked at his stomach almost gleefully.

"You’re such a liar," she teased before darting out the doors, Steve got to his feet slowly, staring in consternation. But no, that was his car, the license plate, KAS-86E, exactly the same. Holy shit.

"Robin, wait, no—" But she was already gone. "Fuck." He hurried out after her as she approached the car and squealed excitedly, hands coming up to her mouth. 

"Steve, okay, I know I was skeptical before, but oh my god, this car," she said, nodding. "You're right. It's fucking sexy." Steve wasn't sure why, exactly, but he felt his face heat up at those words being said within earshot of the car. Kas. The fucker. How the hell...? "We're gonna go for a ride after work, right?" Robin asked, glancing at him quickly. "I bet it goes really fast," she said, turning to walk around the car, running a hand over the hood and sucking in a breath. "Wow, yeah, I take it all back. It's a work of art for sure. Who knew?" She laughed, then glanced at him, her smile fading into confusion. "What? You don't seem excited." 

"I um," Steve shook his head, staring at the car. The car he hadn't driven. The car that had somehow made it from his parent's driveway all the way to work without a driver. The car was... possessed. Alive? The car was... it was stalking him. Fuck, he couldn't let Robin in the car. Hell, he didn't even want to get in the car.  "You know, I'm not sure if tonight's a good night," he started, making himself look at her with what he hoped was an apologetic expression. "Got uh, got uh, a date." He seized on the first thing that came to his mind. "But soon, yeah?" 

Robin looked a little disappointed, then shrugged. "You can still give me a ride home tonight though, right? Before your date?" 

Steve wanted to say no, glancing at... Kas. Was Kas going to behave? Would it take over the steering wheel again? The gas? What if it took off with them both in the car? What if something happened to Robin? No, no, he couldn't do that, couldn't put her at risk. Wouldn’t put her at risk.

"Sorry, uh, not tonight." 

"Alright, fine," Robin said with an eyeroll and a massive sigh, turning to walk back inside. "Who's this date with anyway? Stacey?" 

Steve snorted, shooting a glare at Kas as he passed it. "No, uh, don't think Stacey wants to hear from me again." 

The rest of his shift went by in a blur. Steve would catch himself staring out the window at the car, checking to make sure it was still there. He got tense any time someone walked a little too close to it, not sure what he expected to happen. It (he?) was a car. Kas was a car. What the hell was it going to do? 

Except...

Except apparently it could do a whole fucking lot. Talk. Drive itself. Operate without the keys in the ignition. That part really got to Steve. How the hell had it turned on without the keys? It was fucking with him mentally and he would've sworn he was hallucinating except that Robin had seen the car, too. Had he driven to work and just... didn't remember? No. No. He wasn't crazy. He hadn't imagined walking to work. 

He wasn't crazy. 

He felt like he was going crazy. 

Steve rushed out a little faster than normal at the end of his shift. Didn't want to get stuck making up more lies to Robin. He hated lying to her, but he kind of had to right now, to keep her safe. Whatever he could do to cause the least amount of damage. So he wished her a goodnight, then hurried out. His keys were in his hand and he tried not to overthink it as he got inside, put the keys in the ignition (though he apparently didn't fucking need to) and pulled out of the parking lot as quickly (but safely) as he could. 

"How was work?" Kas asked, tone innocent. Even though Steve was half expecting it, he still jumped. 

"What the hell?" Steve demanded. "You just... you're stalking me now? What the fuck was that? Explain."

The engine revved, the gas pedal depressing a little. Steve stiffened, leaning back away from the steering wheel. 

"I'm not stalking you," Kas said and Steve scoffed. "You just left, man. You think I didn't see you this morning? What the fuck was that? We don't get to finish our conversation last night, and you just bail on me the next day?" 

"I didn't bail on you; I don't know you! God—" Steve dragged a hand down his face. "What the fuck are you? A demonic car? How are you alive? Talking to me right now?" 

There was a tense moment of silence between Steve's questions before the car, Kas, answered. 

"Look, you and I... we're in the same boat here." 

"Doubt that," Steve muttered and the horn honked really loudly, making him flinch. 

"Listen, Harrington, we are in the same boat here, okay? You think I have all the answers? I'm not omniscient, okay?" Steve frowned, not entirely sure what 'omniscient' meant. He chose not to point that out, didn't need a fucking car laughing at him. "You want an explanation for the answers I do have? Well, shut your yap and I'll tell you." 

"Fine," Steve said, waving a hand. "Fine, yeah, explain it all, your highness."

The car was mean.

"That's funny coming from you," the car muttered and Steve's frown deepened, not sure he liked the way Kas enunciated 'you'. 

"What's that supposed to mean?" 

"Nothing," the car said, engine making a long, low whirring noise. "Let's go somewhere private, huh?" The steering wheel was no longer under Steve's control and he gasped, then swallowed. There was a desperate urge to wrestle back for control, but he had a feeling that wouldn't go well for him. 

It didn't prevent him from resting his hands against the steering wheel, more for his own peace of mind than anything else, like he still had some illusion of control. But he certainly wasn't the one driving. 

Either way, they ended up somewhere familiar. One of the overlook spots at Lover’s Lake. Steve had been here himself, it was a good makeout spot. Fortunately for them, it was empty.

The car pulled up almost to the edge and then stopped, the engine idling before falling silent. The night was quiet too, or seemed so at first up until the sounds of crickets and other night critters began to filter in through the silence. 

"Alright," Kas said finally. Steve sat back in his seat, letting out a heavy breath. He didn’t think he’d relaxed once during the whole drive, entirely aware that the car was not under his control. 

"Alright," he echoed, glancing at the radio expectantly. "Talk."

Silence, once again, but it wasn't an empty silence, felt like Kas was thinking, so Steve kept his mouth shut. 

"I'm not a car, you're right about that," Kas said finally. "At least, I wasn't always a car." A pause. "I think... no, I know, I was alive at one point."

"Alive?" 

"Yeah." 

Steve took a second to process that. How could the car be alive? Shit, how could the car talk at all? Or do any of the things it could do which were very un-carlike? It, he... Kas... being alive at some point, it was as good an explanation as any, he supposed. 

"Okay," Steve allowed, shifting in his seat, stretching one leg out. "You... were alive at one point. So, what are you saying you are now? Dead?"

Another beat of silence. 

"Yeah."

Kas's voice was a lot quieter, hushed. Steve didn't know what to make of it, except the guy (the car, fuck) sounded devastated.

"Shit." It was all Steve could think to say and he knew it wasn't a great thing to say. Could've said 'I'm sorry' or 'condolences' or something like that, but no. "That sucks."

A short rev of the engine broke the stillness. Steve was beginning to recognize what the sound meant; amusement. 

"You're telling me," Kas said, sounding world weary. 

"Are you... are you sure you're dead?" Steve asked. "You seem... I dunno, you seem pretty fucking alive to me." 

"If I were alive, I wouldn't be like this, would I?" Kas asked and well, the car (guy?) had a point. "I mean, I don't know, I don't—I don't know for sure, I just... I just have this feeling that... something happened to me."

Steve felt kind of bad that, of all the people this car could've wound up with, it had ended up with him. Steve wasn't smart. And he sure as shit didn't know anything about the afterlife either. How was he supposed to help? Robin was smart. Dustin was really fucking smart. All the kids were; they put the whole town to shame. 

So, he didn't know what to ask or what to say or anything else that might help. Still, he tried, brow drawing down as he thought about everything Kas had shared. 

"Do you, maybe, uh, remember your death? Remember um... dying?"

It was a weird question to ask, certainly not a position Steve had been in before. He hadn't been to too many funerals. He remembered his grandfather's funeral. He hadn't really known the man, but it was weird seeing him all laid out in the casket. Like he was asleep but there was just something... missing. You knew he wasn't there anymore. Body empty of everything that made his grandfather the person that he was.

Eerie. 

"No, I... I don't remember dying, exactly," Kas replied, voice softer. "I just remember, um, pain?"

That, Steve had no fucking clue how to answer. Kas sounded sad, raw. And so fucking young, too. If Steve had to guess, he'd put his voice around his own age. He could be wrong, of course, but he didn't sound old. 

"Shit."

"Yeah. Shit."

Silence fell between them and Steve looked out at the horizon, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. 

"So, you're... you're like a ghost, maybe?" Steve finally broached, breaking the silence. "A spirit? Haun...ting the car?" He hesitated on the last question because he didn't know if that was a rude thing to say, but like... that's what ghosts did, wasn't it? They haunted things. 

"Maybe. I mean, fuck, I dunno. Maybe."

"You're the one who said you had answers, man," Steve said, letting out a slight scoff, but it wasn't really directed towards Kas, just... the situation. Jesus. Potentially, Steve had in his possession a haunted car, housing the disembodied spirit, or soul, of some dead guy named Kas. Well. Kas was on the license plate, who knew if it was the guy's name when he'd been alive, too?

"I said I have some answers," Kas reiterated. The car creaked, its weight settling, a metallic groan. "I don't know everything. Wish I did."

"Alright, well, what else do you know? Or uh, remember? How long have you been dead?"

A thoughtful silence settled between them. Steve waited, kind of wishing he had a beer or something for this conversation because it was a lot to handle sober. But then he'd have to drive home—wait. The car could drive him home. Steve could get drunk and let Kas drive him home.

Theoretically.

Did he really trust Kas that much? 

"I'm not... I'm not actually sure,” Kas continued. “What uh, what year is it?"

Both of Steve's eyebrows went up, because the car had seemed knowledgeable of things up until a certain point. "It's uh, '86. Nineteen eighty-six." He waited, wondering what Kas was going to say. A shocked reaction like, 'oh my god, twenty years have passed' or something like that. Maybe even the year the car was made? Nineteen sixty-seven? That was a likely option, too, right? 

"Nineteen eighty-six," the car echoed. Kas. Kas. His name was Kas. Steve needed to remember that because the voice was beginning to feel less like a car and more like a person the longer they had this conversation. "I was um... I was gonna turn twenty this year." 

Steve blinked. Okay, that he was not expecting. 

"Twenty? You're like... that's like, my age, dude." A year older than him, actually, but it sent a chill up and down Steve's spine. That was... fucking young. 

"Yeah, I know."

Again, the 'I know', like it was common knowledge to his fucking car. How could it be? Steve was less and less sold on the explanation that it was because Steve had bought him. That couldn't be the only explanation. But then again, it was a ghost car. Maybe it just... knew stuff? Like, after you died, you gained superpowers or something? 

"A year older than me," Steve murmured. He was younger than his car. Which... wait, wouldn't that mean that Kas was younger than the car itself? Then how'd he end up in this car? Or... haunting it, or whatever? "Wait, are you saying you... think you might've died like... this year?" 

He swallowed because that was... fucking crazy. This guy had gotten killed this year? It was... really sad, actually. He supposed it was sad before but the more he learned about the guy, how young he was, it just seemed really, really sad. 

"I think so, um." The engine revved slightly then slowed back down. "I was gonna graduate."

Steve frowned in confusion, brow folding into a deep crease. 

"At... twenty?" 

"Nineteen," the car said, his tone defensive. "I was... am? What month is it?" 

"October," Steve murmured.

"October. Okay. Yeah, guess I'd be twenty now. But I got held back... a couple times, alright? Don't judge me."

Holding his hands up in surrender, Steve shook his head. "I'm not." He let out a soft scoff, more at himself than anything. "Believe me, I'm in no position to judge. Couldn't even get into one fucking college, man."

"Doubt I could've, either."

Quiet fell. Steve didn't like uncomfortable silences, not that this one was uncomfortable, it was just a little... intense. Felt like he should be comforting the car or something. 

"What else? What else do you remember?" 

"I... I remember... music."

"Music?" Steve echoed. 

"Yeah." Kas's tone was warmer, more sure in what he was saying. "Music." The radio clicked to life, a song starting to play, not something Steve had ever heard, a sad sounding guitar that built steadily. Steve frowned, concentrating on the tune as drums started to join in a steady beat before the singer's voice began to fill the car. 

"Life, it seems, will fade away, drifting further every day, getting lost within myself, nothing matters, no one else..."

The singer's voice wasn't bad, by any means, but this definitely wasn't the type of music Steve listened to himself. After the opening words, the song got heavier and Steve resisted the urge to turn the volume down a little bit. He didn't dislike it, it was just... loud. 

Similar to music Dustin had been listening to recently. He'd gotten into some of that heavier shit. Metal, Steve thought it was called. Someone Dustin knew was into it or something. He looked back at the radio before his eyes drifted up to the guitar pick hanging from the rearview. He reached a hand out, swiping his thumb over it. Dried blood from before flaked off against his skin. He should probably clean that off.

"Was this yours?" he asked, not sure how Kas could see, although the car seemed to be aware of things somehow, so maybe he could see… in some… ghostly way.

"I don't remember."

There was a heavier sadness in Kas's tone as the song continued. Steve took a breath. They needed to get out of this... whatever sad funk they were getting buried under. They needed to get out of it. 

"Okay, that's okay," Steve reassured. "Is there, y’know, anything else? Like... how about family? Friends? Uh... girlfriend?" 

The radio shut off abruptly and Steve waited, expectant for a reply. 

"No girlfriend."

"Okay," Steve said slowly. "Um... friends?"

"I mean... I'm sure I had some," the car said, again a defensive tone. "I'm sure I had some."

"You can't remember if you had friends but you're certain you didn't have a girlfriend?"

Steve didn't understand the car's logic. 

"I'm not having this conversation with you, Harrington."

"Okay, sorry," Steve said, tone a bit petulant. He was only trying to help. How was he supposed to know how it all worked? The guy was dead. Any lead they had, any memory or avenue explored was going to help, right? Although it begged the question, what were they supposed to do? Kas was dead, was he just supposed to remain as a car for the rest of his... afterlife? 

Also, what about like, heaven? Hell? 

"Shit."

It was only now occurring to him that, apparently, there was an afterlife. That hellfire and damnation, pearly gates and angel choirs, were all things that could be totally real. Or not. Fuck. He should’ve paid more attention in Sunday school.

"What?" Kas asked and Steve shook his head, teeth briefly sinking into the meat of his lower lip for a second. 

"Nothing, just uh... didn't think ghosts were real." 

"I... who said I was a ghost?" 

"I mean, you kind of are, right? Your spirit, or soul, whatever, it's like, attached to the car? That... that sounds like a ghost to me."

The radio came back on, crackling static for a moment before settling on something that sounded classical to Steve's untrained ears before it shut off again. 

"Normal ghost stories, they uh, have a common theme, you know."

Steve, in fact, did not know, his brow furrowing. 

"What's that?" 

"A lot of times, there's some kind of... uh, unfinished business. That the ghost has. That they need to deal with before they can... move on." Kas's voice got quieter towards the end, to all but a whisper. Steve didn't like that, didn't like how sad he sounded at all. He barely knew the guy, but damn. He could only imagine what it must be like to have your life cut short like that. 

"You think you've got unfinished business?" 

"I know I do."

"Oh," Steve said, surprised by the certainty in Kas's voice. "Okay. You uh, you know what it is?" 

"No, not... not exactly."

"Oh."

That was disappointing. Definitely wasn't helpful to their situation. 

"I think I got an idea what it is, though."

"Yeah?"

"Revenge."

Chapter Text

Steve didn't claim to be the smartest or the best at anything. He thought he was goodlooking. Had a certain charm about him that other people liked. He was good at sports, but not so good that it got him any scholarships. Average in every other area of his life.

He didn't believe in the supernatural. His parents had dragged him to church growing up. He always thought it was boring, much more taken with the stained glass in the windows. Not for the scenes they depicted themselves, but for the way the sun would send the colors shining across the wall. He liked the church bells, too. 

But the sermons? The pastor spitting venom about sin and how the only thing that could save your soul was Jesus, God, whatever? Steve didn't like that part. He got enough yelling at home. Didn't need to disappoint another father figure. Often, he'd tune it all out. Watch the colors on the wall instead, try not to fidget so much.

A ghost car? He could find it in himself to believe. Hell, he'd witnessed it himself, the car taking control over the wheel, driving itself, following him to work, talking to him. Yeah, he could kinda get behind that? It was... ya know, it wasn't normal but like, what options did Steve have? God, it was a lot to think about, he didn't have a brain big enough for this.

A ghost car wanting revenge? 

That was... well. That was something Steve wasn't sure he could get behind. 

"What do you mean revenge?" he asked hesitantly. He really didn't think he wanted to hear this. "We're not gonna like, kill anyone. Right?" 'We'. Slip of the tongue but Steve was already putting them together, him and Kas. Like a team. Something out of a movie or a comic book. Like Knight Rider. Except KITT wasn't a ghost. 

"Not kill, no," Kas said slowly in a way Steve didn't exactly buy, but he wasn't sure he wanted to look too deep. "More like... bring them to justice."

"Them?"

"Yeah," Kas said, tone heavy. "Them. I don't remember exactly how I died. But what I do remember, I think... I think I was murdered."

Steve's eyes went wide, staring at the radio while that thought settled. Murdered. Murdered. The word echoed around in his brain, the air feeling thick and heavy now around his shoulders inside the car, the weight of it hanging all around him. 

"In... Hawkins?" Steve asked. Maybe it wasn't the right thing to ask but like... in fucking Hawkins? No one had ever been murdered here, as far as he knew. There were the rumors kids would come up with in school, small town urban legends. He didn't think any of those were real. 

"What? You think murder can't happen because we're in motherfucking Hawkins, Indiana? Murder can happen anywhere." 

"I know, but like—why—why would anyone want to murder you?" As soon as he asked it, Steve felt a twist of anxiety scurry up his spine. "You're not like... a criminal or something?" 

"Yeah, Harrington, I'm wanted in seven different states for armed theft, grand theft auto, and mass murder." Steve felt like his eyes might bug out of his skull. "I'm joking, Hair. I don't think I was a saint but uh, fuck if I know the reason why someone decided they needed to off me."

Steve's nose wrinkled at 'Hair'. They'd bandied that nickname around in high school at him, though it wasn't as prevalent as 'King Steve'. How'd Kas even know that, though?

"Look, I don't know, man," Kas continued. "I'm in the dark about a lot of it and I would be doing this on my own but..."

"But?"

"Well. A car driving itself around town is kind of conspicuous don't ya think?"

Steve supposed that Kas had a point. A driverless car? People might start freaking out. That did make him wonder if anyone had noticed the car driving itself to Family Video. Was Kas spotted? How would Steve explain it if they linked him to the car? He doubted anyone else in town had a car like Kas. Steve had certainly never seen another Impala around.

Kas stood out. 

"Okay," Steve said, tipping his head back against the seat and staring up at the car roof for a moment, trying to wrap his mind around... fuck... everything. "Alright, so like... what should we do? How do we like... investigate a murder?" 

"Considering this is my first time getting murdered, I say... research." 

"Research," Steve echoed, pulling a face. Sounded like homework, something he'd thought he was well and truly done with forever. He hadn't made it into college, doubted it was in the cards for him now. He'd thought, well, college had seemed like a given before. But he hated school. If he were being honest, he thought he only really managed to graduate because of Nancy helping him the last two years of high school. 

It didn't matter now, of course. His grades hadn't been good enough and he was stuck here, no present, no future. It wasn't the worst his life could be... his parents could've kicked him out, cut him off. He knew they were disappointed that he wasn't 'doing anything with his life' but he tried to avoid the topic when it came up.

Steve just... didn't have an answer. He didn't know what he wanted to do with his life. How was someone supposed to answer that? As a kid, he hadn't ever really had a plan, either. If asked, maybe he would've said something like astronaut or cowboy. But growing up? He thought he'd be heading for sports of some kind. Basketball, swimming. Baseball, even. But he hadn't 'pushed' himself enough, like his father was all too happy to point out while lamenting that neither of them had pushed Steve enough themselves. 

Maybe he hadn't needed to be pushed. Steve would've settled for them being... happy with him for trying. That would've been enough. 

"Alright, so like... the library?" Steve asked, letting out a breath up towards the ceiling. "They've got uh, books and stuff. Newspapers."

"Newspapers might be a good place to start, actually," Kas said thoughtfully. "I wouldn't be able to go in with you."

Steve brought his head back up, staring at the radio. "You want to go now?" 

"Think the library's closed, man. But yeah, as... as soon as they open, sure. I wanna know what... what happened to me. And I'm sure you don't want me as your car forever, right? We can help each other. You help me figure all this murder stuff out and uh, once my unfinished business is ya know, finished, I'll be gone and you'll have your car back. Sound good?"

He couldn't really see any downsides. It'd be nice not to have a car that was... possessed. Or, well, haunted. Just a regular normal car, one where he knew what to expect. It would be nice and he'd be helping someone, too. Wasn't like he was doing this all for selfish reasons. Or maybe he was but he didn't not want to help Kas. Being murdered and turned into a car? Sounded like it sucked ass. 

Had Kas been turned into a car? Or was Kas just possessing the car? Steve didn't know for sure how that worked. Either way, Kas was human before, just a regular kid. Life cut short. Perhaps he should be more concerned about the motives behind Kas's murder. Why Kas? The guy seemed pretty certain that he was murdered and didn't just... die. 

"Tomorrow, then," Steve said with a nod, wishing he could bring Nancy into this. She was good at investigating. She was on the newspaper at Hawkins High, for Christ's sake. Lead editor or something like that. Steve was sure she'd told him her official title but it hadn't stuck. "Uh, after my parents leave for the morning."

"Tomorrow, then. You gonna try to sneak away again?" 

"Why? You planning on following me if I did?" Steve asked and the engine shuddered, short, quick bursts. Laughing. 

"I can stay put if you want, totally up to you. But I think it'd be easier for everyone involved if you just took me with you in the future. Save us all some time."

Kas had a point. 

"Yeah, fine," Steve said with a huff. "I won’t leave you behind again. But you gotta promise no funny business."

The windshield wipers swiped up and down across the window, just once. Steve's gaze flicked up to the motion, brow pinching together.

"Scout's honor," Kas said, sounding extremely positive. Maybe a little too positive. Steve frowned out the windshield, but the wipers didn't move again. 

"Alright. Let's um... can I...?" Steve put his hands out, hovering over the steering wheel without touching it.

"Are you asking if you can drive?" 

"No." He sighed. "Yes."

"Sure, Harrington. Drive your car."

"Thank you," Steve said softly, almost a mutter. Tonight had been fucking weird. He started driving, heading back home. 

For a while, the drive was silent, Steve lost in thought. He wondered if Kas was lost in thought, too. Could cars get lost in thought? Then he reminded himself that Kas wasn't a car. Well, he was, but he wasn't. He was now, yeah. But he'd just been a guy. From Hawkins, no less. Someone who'd gotten their life stolen away, taken from them, cut off. But it hadn't even ended for the guy after that, no. He didn't move on, he didn't find any peace, he was stuck now. Stuck in the body of a car.

Steve thought he'd be going insane if the situations were reversed. Sure, maybe it'd be cool to be a car sometimes, like the Transformers. But they weren't just cars, they were big, super strong robots. Kas was... just a car. 

"Hey, Kas," Steve said as he drove, the quiet hum of the engine the only noise filtering around them. "You don't uh, remember anything else? You know, about... well, you, I guess."

"You're asking if I remember, what, like, who I was as a person?" 

Steve shrugged, eyes on the road ahead. "Well, could be that or uh, stuff about you. Like, what'd you like? What'd you do? Were you in Hawkins your whole life?"

Kas was quiet. The blinkers came on, just a repetitive 'click-click, click-click, click-click' and Steve looked down at the steering wheel in front of him, frowning. They weren't making a turn or anything, but it seemed like Kas was thinking, so Steve didn't turn it off.  

"I think I was here my whole life, yeah," he said finally. "Don't remember living anywhere else. Fuck, I don't remember going anywhere else. At least, not like, far. Some uh, road trips, maybe? With... friends, I think. Yeah." Another thoughtful pause. "Music."

"Music?" Steve repeated. It was the second time tonight Kas was bringing up music.

"I remember music." The engine whirred, the car going just the tiniest bit faster. "It's what I remember the most, actually. Songs I don't remember the name of, tunes I can't get out of my head. Going to see live performances. I think I... I think I played music." 

Steve's eyes darted to the guitar pick hanging from the rearview mirror. 

"What instrument?" Steve asked, voice soft, wondering if the necklace belonged to Kas. But... that'd be fucking crazy, right? Although, everything since Steve had found Kas was fucking insane. 

"Guitar," Kas responded, tone confident. "Yeah, no, it... it was guitar. I had a band, I—I think? I had a band. We were... fuck, what were we called?" The engine revved loudly, drowning out everything for a second. "Jesus fuck, I can't remember. Shit." 

"It's okay."

"No, it's not okay, Hair," Kas snapped before the engine groaned. "Sorry. I... I'm sorry. You don't deserve that."

Steve pulled into the Harrington family driveway and turned the engine off. It didn't seem to matter whether the engine was on or not, Kas could still talk regardless, or so it seemed. Shit, Kas had driven himself all the way to Family Video without the keys in the ignition.

"You're right," Steve said, nodding in the dark. "It's not okay. It's fucked up." 

As if proving his point about the keys, the engine did its short bursts of laughter, but softer this time. 

"Really fucked up, man. Really fucked up."

Silence fell between them, Steve playing with the keys in his hand. It felt weird to go inside and leave Kas out here, alone. But he couldn't bring a whole ass car with him inside the house, that was like, impossible. It still felt... wrong, almost. 

"So, you uh, you believe me?" Kas asked, breaking the quiet. Steve glanced up, looking at the radio. 

"Believe you?" Steve echoed, not immediately getting it. 

"Yeah, um. About... well, all of it. You don't think I'm... crazy?"

A smile tugged at the corners of Steve's mouth. 

"Do I think my talking car that can drive itself is crazy?" He sucked his tongue against his teeth, drawing in a breath. "Damn. That's a tough one." 

"Ha ha, Harrington," Kas said, though his tone was, dare Steve say it, a little amused. "You know what I mean. I mean, I hope you do. I'll explain it if I need to."

"I know what you mean," Steve murmured, glancing out the window and looking at the lights shining through the curtains. His parents were home. His mom was probably cooking dinner. His dad would be in his office until dinnertime. He didn't want to go inside, sit and eat another meal together in awkward silence or forced small talk. He'd rather stay out here, honestly, talking to his possessed car. "Uh, I believe you, yeah," Steve said, nodding and looking back down at his keys. "We'll work on figuring out more tomorrow."

"Right."

"Right." Steve unbuckled and pushed open the door. He looked back at the hood of the car, giving it a couple of taps with his knuckles. "Have a uh, good night?"

"You, too."

Steve didn't look back as he walked up to the house, leaving Kas alone in the driveway. 

— —

Steve was lucky he didn't have to work the next day. He and Kas could focus on finding some answers as soon as his parents were gone. He tried to tell himself it would be just like an episode of Scooby-Doo, all this investigating stuff. That's what the Mystery Gang did, right? They investigated. Drove around town in their Mystery Van, found clues and whatnot. Designed traps. Went to big spooky mansions. 

The monsters were never real, of course, every spooky thing explained at the end in a way that sometimes felt too obvious. At least to Steve. 

He was kind of hoping the answers could all be easily explained away now, in this same situation. In real life. Life was never that simple, though, was it? 

If his parents were home, he didn't see or hear them, which made him think that they'd already left to start their days. There was a big fundraising thing his mom was involved with, something with the school or something. His dad was working, like always. The house was empty. 

Quiet. 

It almost made him wish he could bring Kas inside, so they could talk more privately. If Kas were in a regular body, of course, and not trapped in the Impala. He wondered what Kas looked like, when he was alive. Steve just had his voice to work off of. His mental image of the owner of said voice wasn't coalescing clearly enough. Dark hair, maybe. He couldn't picture Kas with blond hair, he wasn't sure why.

But beyond dark hair… maybe some facial hair? He couldn't picture Kas as anything but the Impala. That cherry red Impala. A muscle car with an engine that purred loudly, announced its presence. You heard it before you even saw it. His old car, the Bimmer, had been quiet in comparison. And that was fine, he'd liked that about her. A too loud engine and the owner came off as obnoxious. And yet... he liked how the Impala sounded, the roar of that engine as every cylinder fired up. 

Steve made himself some coffee and poured it in a travel mug before he left the house, shrugging on a jacket. He walked over to Kas, still parked in the driveway. Thank God he hadn't left again. Although, he supposed Kas could've left and come back without him knowing. If Kas could drive himself really, really quietly. Could he? Was Kas in control of his own noise level? 

Steve unlocked the door and got inside. "Morning," he said, a bit chipper. They had a goal in mind. And sure he didn't know the first thing about investigating, but there had to be some clues and stuff out there. Maybe even just driving around town would spark some memory of Kas's and they could follow that instead. 

He really wished he could talk to Robin about this, but what the hell would he even say? 

My new car? Yeah, it's possessed by some guy that got murdered, we think. No big deal. It's cool.

He thought Robin's brain might implode if he threw that at her. And that's if she even believed him in the first place. 

"Gods, I miss coffee," Kas bemoaned, the radio clicking to life. 

"Could we have kippers for breakfast? Mummy dear, mummy dear..."

"Oh, you... coffee you...? Not like... gasoline?" 

The volume of the song lowered considerably and Steve stared at the radio, eyebrows raised as Kas didn't say a fucking thing. 

"Human, remember? I'm talking about before, Hair." 

God, he was an idiot. "Right," Steve said, shaking his head. "Yeah, no, right, sorry." 

"You're good, man," Kas said, amused, not annoyed, so Steve relaxed, setting his cup in the cup holder after taking a final sip. "Where we heading?" The engine revved before Steve even got the key in the ignition, and Steve clutched the wheel as if the car was going to take off at any second. 

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey," Steve sputtered, hanging on even though the car hadn't moved. He let out a slightly breathless chuckle. "I thought like, the library, like we said? See if um, maybe there's some articles or something in the local newspaper? Like, if you were... murdered," and Steve's voice lowered considerably when he had to say the 'M' word, "maybe it was reported?" 

Of course, Steve didn't have any memories of a murder being reported. He felt like that would be big news in a town as quiet as Hawkins, but maybe Kas wasn't... killed... here. Maybe he was killed in a bigger city or something. After all, Steve hadn't found the Impala in Hawkins, but the next town over. It made sense if Kas had been killed elsewhere. Might be wise to start in that city but... they were here now. 

They could start in Hawkins since Kas was from Hawkins, and cast the net wider if they needed to, so that was something. 

"Alright, Hawkins library. Let's fucking go," Kas said, the engine revving again as the car started to back out of the drive. 

"Fuck, wait—!" Steve shouted as he hurriedly buckled himself up and stuck the key in the ignition, though he wasn't sure why he was bothering when Kas could move all by himself.

"C'mon, don't worry about it," Kas said, the engine rumbling beneath his voice as the car continued to back up. "Sit back, relax, drink your coffee. I got this." 

"Yeah, no, I don't... I don't think that's a good idea."

"Oh, c'mon," Kas said as they reached the street. Steve whipped his head to look behind them to make sure it was clear; it was. "You got a car that drives itself. Why not enjoy it?" The tires squealed as Kas pulled back and then gunned forward. Steve gripped the wheel with a surprised yelp. The engine revved, louder and louder and Steve swore. 

"Jesus Christ, Kas, slow down!" 

The windows rolled down by themselves. The wind whipped at Steve's hair as Kas accelerated. The horn honked and Kas sped up. "Damn, ya think we can go faster?" Kas shouted over the rush of air filling Steve's ears. 

"Kas, c'mon, we're not even on the highway!" 

"Good idea, now you're talking," Kas crowed and Steve thought if Kas were here, alive and human, he'd be grinning ear to ear. "To the highway!" The enthusiasm was unfortunately infectious and Steve started to grin, gripping the wheel less out of fear and more out of excitement. His foot found its way to the gas pedal, slowly pressing down, not even sure how much control he had or if he and Kas were controlling the car together. "Yeah, there we go," Kas cheered. "C'mon, c'mon, man."

Steve let out a whoop as they tore down the residential road, sticking an arm out the window and banging his hand against the top of the car roof. "Alright, let's see what you got!" he shouted and the engine revved even louder if that were possible. 

"Oh, wait and see, baby, just wait and see." 

Kas went faster. Steve's hair kept flying and he didn't even care that the goal had been the library as Kas took the road that led to the highway. The scenery went by in a blur, speeding up considerably once they reached the open road. Steve couldn't tell who was driving, him or Kas, or maybe they were moving in concert together, but it didn't fucking matter. This time of day, there weren't that many other people out on the highway.

Kas roared. A loud, low rumble that reverberated through the whole fucking car. The engine jet loud. Steve laughed, surprised and utterly free. Felt like nothing could touch him, touch them, Kas going so fast. Nothing could stop them. "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon," he urged, fingers gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. "C'mon!"

They shot down the highway like a bullet, going past eighty miles per hour, climbing to ninety, then a hundred, and Steve wasn't sure if he'd ever gone this fucking fast and the speedometer kept climbing. 

"Go, go, go, c'mon," Steve shouted, letting out a yell. 

Anyone watching would've seen nothing but a cherry red blur, faster than a bat out of hell, leaving nothing but the fading echoes of wild laughter and the roar of an engine in its wake. 

— —

When Kas finally started to slow down, Steve could feel himself sweating from the adrenaline. Sweat prickled at his armpits. He was breathing fast as his heart tried to find its normal rhythm again. 

"Holy shit, dude!" Steve hollered, slapping a hand against the wheel and laughing loudly as Kas took the turn that would bring them back to Hawkins. "Holy fuck, that was... that was—"

"Amazing, fantastic, spectacular? All of the above?" 

"Fucking awesome," Steve said with a chuckle and a shake of his head. "Fuck. Don't think I've ever gone above a hundred." 

"Well, you have now," Kas said, sounding ridiculously pleased with himself. Steve rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. At least Kas was in good spirits for a dead guy. Steve wasn't sure if he'd be feeling the same way but then, he'd never been a car, either. What would it feel like to be going that fast under his own power? Like flying? 

"What's it feel like?" he asked, hands on the wheel. It was kind of superfluous at this point, he thought. "Going that fast?" 

"It uh, I guess it… helps me feel more alive,” Kas said. “Probably sounds silly. What's it feel like to you?"

Not expecting the question to be turned around on him, Steve took a minute to consider his answer. His good feelings started to fade. He shifted in his seat, sliding one hand over the wheel, unconsciously thumbing over the inside. He could understand if Kas wanted to go fast. That he liked the feeling, if it helped him feel more alive. He wanted to say it didn’t sound silly to him, that it had to be hard, going from regular life to... this.  Steve wished he had more answers or understanding of why it'd happened in the first place. "It's a good feeling," he said, giving a nod. "I liked it. Felt good."

"Yeah?" 

Steve had to let out a little laugh at the almost uncertain hopefulness in Kas's tone. 

"Yeah, man," he said, letting out a breath followed by a short bark of laughter. "God, felt like a good run or uh, like—" He cut himself off sharply, surprised at himself for the comparison he was going to draw. Where had that thought come from? 

"Like...?" Kas prompted and Steve let out a more embarrassed laugh, feeling his cheeks warm up. He made a gesture with his hand, wrist sitting comfortably against the steering wheel. 

"Like, ya know, like sex," he said with a shrug. "Heart pumping fast, pushing yourself, your body. Feeling like you ran a mile even when you didn't go anywhere. All that adrenaline. Get that same high, y’know?" 

"Right," Kas said, the word drawn out a little slow and Steve cast a quick glance at the radio, hoping the guy didn't think he was weird.

"Not like—not like going a hundred miles over the speed limit is the same feeling as coming but you know what I mean? It's like, the endorphin rush that hits afterwards, you know?" 

"Sure, yeah, okay," Kas said, but he didn't sound a hundred percent convinced. An awkward silence fell between them. Steve wasn't suggesting that what they'd been doing was anything like sex. There wasn't anything sexual about it and Kas was a guy, and like... Steve was straight. Wasn't like they were into each other. He hoped he hadn't made him uncomfortable, though. He opened his mouth to try and explain further without digging himself into more of a hole, but Kas pulled to a stop. "We're here," he announced and Steve looked up.

They'd reached the library. Kas pulled into a parking space on the street just outside the front of the old building. Steve had never been a big fan of the library. He wasn't much of a reader. Didn't seem to have the patience for it like other people did. He'd much rather be doing something rather than sitting in a chair and reading. He fared better with comic books. They were short and mostly pictures and easier to follow when he didn't have to imagine what the people were doing and could just look instead. 

He and Nancy used to come here to study, though. About the only time he'd willingly gone into the building. And like, it wasn't a bad place to study, he supposed. It was quiet and no one bothered you, but if Nancy hadn't been there, he would've been bored out of his mind. 

"I guess I'll just... go in and see what I can find?" he said, reaching for his now cold coffee, taking a sip and grimacing. He needed the caffeine if he was going to be doing research. 

"Yeah, go ahead," Kas said, the engine letting out a loud, slow rattle as the car settled. "I'll be here. Just... sitting here."

"I um... you want me to uh...?"

"What, Hair? Leave the windows open a crack? I'm not a dog or a baby and I can't exactly follow you inside, can I?" 

"Well... no," Steve admitted with a sigh of defeat. He couldn't even leave Kas like, a newspaper or a magazine or something to flip through. How would he turn the pages? Kas could control the car himself, so if he wanted the radio on, he could turn it on but really the only thing Kas could feasibly do was... wait out here. "I'll be quick," he promised, releasing his seat buckle and pushing the door open. 

"Not too quick," Kas called after him, stilling Steve's movements, half in and half out of the car. "Don't... don't rush it, please? If you find something... just. Be thorough, if you can. Please."

"I'll do my best," Steve said, tapping the roof of the car. "Promise." With that, he walked off, leaving Kas behind, bright red cherry chrome glinting in the autumn sunlight. 

— —

The inside of Hawkins library was quiet, still, and cool. A tiny shiver ran down Steve's spine. It felt cooler in here than it did outside. No wonder the library staff always looked so bundled up. Place was a cavern. He wasn't sure where to start exactly. He knew the library held onto old newspapers, had microfiche going back who knew how many years; he'd accompanied Nancy downstairs for a research project once. 

It was cool for all about five minutes. He'd wandered back and forth while she'd worked until she'd sent him upstairs to find a vending machine or something, citing thirst. Really, he thought it was because he was being distracting. He'd been all too happy to get out of there. But now here he was, needing to do the research himself. 

Marissa the librarian was behind the counter. Steve let out a breath, about to take a step forward and maybe ask for some help when a voice stopped him. "Dingus!" he heard along with half the building. Only one person called him that and he turned to see Robin wearing a big grin, a couple of books in her hands. "What're you doing here?" she asked, tone overly loud for the quiet space. Marissa fixed them with a studious glare. 

"Hey," he said more softly, hoping Robin would follow suit. She had sunglasses pushed up on her head holding her bangs back, though there were a few fly aways. "I'm um..." What could he possibly say? That he was researching some random guy's murder when he didn't even have a lead? Not so much as the guy's name? Yeah, that was... how was he going to explain that? 

At the same time, he didn't know how he was going to come up with something else that sounded even remotely plausible for his presence here. Robin was staring at him expectantly, blue eyes searching his face, her frown getting deeper the longer it took him to answer. 

Finally, he couldn't stand it. He shook his head, shrugging his shoulders as he shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. "I'm doing research on the guy that owned the Impala before me," he blurted. It was... sort of the truth. Robin's eyebrows drifted upwards. 

"Why?" Robin asked. Valid question. It threw Steve for a loop.

"There's... I think... It's weird."

Perfect. That explained everything, Harrington. 

"It's... weird?"

Steve made a noise of frustration. Marissa was still watching them both like a hawk, so he took Robin by the arm and led her further into the library, disappearing between the stacks. 

"The car," he said, giving up because he was quickly realizing he couldn't do this, secrets be damned. "It's weird, okay? It does weird things. And I thought if I like, researched some of the former owners, maybe something would come up. To explain it." 

"What? That makes like, no sense, Steve. What do you mean 'weird'?" 

"I think," Steve said, lowering his voice and glancing around to make sure they were still alone, "someone might've died in the car." Robin stared at him blankly. Steve raised his eyebrows, widening his eyes, trying to make her understand what he wasn't saying. "Like, murdered." 

A beat. 

"Murdered?" Robin echoed, then gave a quick shake of her head, her sunglasses slipping down from their perch. She quickly pushed them back up. "What... where's this coming from? You think someone died in your car?" Her voice rose in volume and incredulity near the end of her sentence. Steve quickly shushed her, glancing around. Their aisle was still empty. 

"Look, I... okay, when the guy sold it to me he said the former owner returned it because it was, I dunno, acting weird." Robin raised an eyebrow. "Like the lights flickering and shit. The radio coming on out of the blue. Shit like that." 

"And he said the former owner died?" 

"No, no," Steve said, shaking his head. "That guy's still alive, I think. I'm talking about... whoever had it before him, or like, maybe they didn't own the car at all but I think the car is like... haunted." Robin reached a hand out, placing it against his forehead. Steve pulled his head back out of reach. "What are you doing?" 

"Trying to see if you're running a fever or something. You're not making sense. Have you been getting enough sleep?" 

"I'm not sick!" There was a loud 'shush' and Steve looked up to see Marissa standing at the end of the aisle, pushing a cart of unshelved books. "Sorry," Steve whispered, raising a hand towards her and fixing an apologetic smile on his face. He waited for Marissa to continue on past them before looking back at Robin. 

"Look, I'm all for a good conspiracy theory, little Stevie," Robin said, waving her hands. "But a good conspiracy theory is all in the details, man. What happened? Who's the victim, who's the suspect?"

"I don't..." Steve made a noise of frustration in the back of his throat before taking a deep breath. How was he supposed to explain his knowledge and where it came from without sounding like a crazy person? But this was Robin. If anyone was going to believe him, it'd have to be her, right? She was his best friend. "My car isn't... it's not a normal car." 

"O...kay," Robin said slowly, eyes searching his, but with no ridicule, just confusion. "Is this like, a guy thing? Because I don't know anything about cars and everyone knows cars are just metaphors for a guy's dic—"

"No, that's not what this is, Rob, Jesus," Steve said, pinching the bridge of his nose and taking another breath. "Not everything's about our dicks."

Robin shrugged, folding her arms across her chest. "There's a lot of phallic shaped monuments that declare otherwise, but okay."

Steve glanced at her quizzically, lips parting to say something, then decided it wasn't important and moved on. 

"Just... can you come to the car with me?" 

Robin stared at him for a moment and he stared back, waiting for an answer. He could practically see the realization click in her brain. 

"What, right now?"

"Yes." 

"Alright, I... yeah, lead the way." 

— —

Kas was sitting right where he'd left him. Steve opened the passenger side door for Robin. "What, we're going somewhere?" she asked, looking at him over the car roof as he walked around to the driver's side. 

"No, just... will you...?" He gestured for her to get in the car as he opened the door on his side and slipped inside. He didn't buckle or anything, waiting for Robin to follow him. She settled into the passenger's seat and closed the door, looking over at Steve before taking in the interior. 

"It's nice," she said, glancing towards the backseat. "Roomy." She brought her gaze back to him before her eyes landed on the guitar pick hanging from the rearview. "What's that?" she asked, pointing at it and glancing over at him. 

"Oh, I, yeah, I found that in here." He shook his head, then sighed, placing one hand on the steering wheel while he faced Robin. "I think it belonged to the person that um..."

"Got murdered?" 

"Yeah," Steve said more softly since Kas was here and could hear everything they were saying. He shifted, digging a hand into his jacket pocket and fished out his keys. He held them up and showed Robin, jingling them in front of her face. He wasn't sure how he was going to explain anything when she just looked more confused than ever. "Here, take these," he said, holding them out. Robin's eyes went massive, practically bugging out of their sockets. 

"No, no, no," she said, holding her hands up. "I'm never driving again! Not after last time. Are you crazy? I shouldn't be trusted behind the wheel of a large piece of machinery—"

"Robin, that's not what I'm saying. Robs, Rob, listen to me! Just hold them, okay?" He waited to make sure she calmed down instead of freaking out completely. He held the keys up again. "Just want you to hold them. Nothing else, I swear." Her eyes narrowed. "Please?" 

She gave him a long stare before she sighed and took the keys out of his hand. 

"Okay, so... what are we doing out here?" She glanced around the car. "I mean, she's a beauty, I'll give you that—" The car horn blared on its own. They both jumped, eyes darting to the steering wheel. "Did you...?" Robin asked and Steve looked at her with big eyes. "Oh. Oh, you're... you're messing with me. Ha ha, very funny, Steve." 

"No, no, no, I didn't touch it!" he said. "You saw that! You saw it, right?" Robin scoffed and crossed her arms. "No, no, I swear, Robin! The car is... it's not a car, he's not a car—"

"He?"

"Yeah, he..." Steve lowered his voice. "He doesn't like it when you call him a girl."

Robin stared back at him as if he'd grown two heads. 

"What is going on?"

"Kas?" Steve said, glancing across the ceiling as if he could summon him, patting the dashboard. "Kas, buddy? Are you... here?"

"Kas?" Robin said. "You named it... you named it 'Kas'." 

"That's his name," Steve said, craning his neck around as if Kas would suddenly materialize. "Kas, this is uh, Robin. Buckley. You can trust her, just uh, can you maybe, say something?" 

"Don't talk to strangers," the radio blared, making both him and Robin jump again. "'Cause they're only there to do you harm..."

"Ha! See?" Steve asked, looking at Robin excitedly. Robin stared at the radio then glanced down at the keys in her hand. "Kas, maybe, um, you're there, right?" 

"I didn't agree to this," Kas said, voice low and more serious than Steve had ever heard it, static hissing and popping through his words.

He noticed Robin looking at the radio out of the corner of his eye.

"No, no, I know, man, and I'm sorry," Steve said apologetically, hand sliding over the dashboard. "But you can trust her. Plus, she's really smart, she... what?" Robin was staring at him with wide eyes, keys clutched in her hands. "Robin, are you...? You good?"

"Am I good?" she hissed. "I'm freaking out, man! Who are you talking to?" 

"Kas," Steve said as if it were obvious. Like, did she not get it? "Look, I know it's a lot—"

"Give her a second," Kas interjected. "You freaked out, too."

"Yeah, no, I know I did," Steve huffed. He just thought that Robin, conspiracy theory Robin, Robin who thought aliens were real and the government was keeping some hostage in Area 51, Robin who believed in ghosts and spirits and stuff, wouldn't freak out as much as he had. "Look, it's cool, he can hear you and... see us... somehow. I dunno how it works but it's just like talking to anyone, he's just... a car."

"Not a car, but thanks."

"Right, sorry, he isn't a car, I mean, he is one now, but he's just a—"

"Stop, stop, Steve," Robin was looking at him, face all concerned. She reached for his hands, looking almost scared. "You're acting like there's someone else here in the car with us." 

"There is," Steve said. "I mean, technically, he is the car, but he's here, you can hear him."

"No, Steve," Robin said gently. "I just hear... you. Talking to someone who isn't there." 

"Shit," Kas muttered as a cold feeling washed over Steve. He swallowed thickly, shifting under Robin's gaze. 

"You… you don't hear him?" 

"No, I... I don't hear anything."

"You can't hear me?" Kas said, static crackling through the speakers over the song. Then more loudly, "Hey, hi, hello? You don't hear this? Hey!" 

Robin didn't react and Steve felt his heart sink. "Okay, but the horn? And the radio? It's still going!" He pointed at the radio, the song still blasting.

Robin glanced at it, pursing her lips together before looking back at him. "Look, it could be faulty wiring... or something. All that static? That doesn't sound… right."

"Faulty wiring? Robs, c'mon, it's not faulty wiring," Steve said, throwing his hands up. "Do you think I hadn't thought of that? Even the guy that sold it to me said the previous owner brought it back, had it checked out several times. I had it checked out! Took it to the garage. There's nothing wrong with it— him."

"Damn straight," Kas muttered. 

"Alright, okay, let's just take a breath, okay?" Robin said, putting her hands up. "You start freaking out, I'm gonna start freaking out, you know that. Let's just... breathe? Okay?" 

"Okay," Steve said rather glumly, staring at Robin while she stared back at him, both of them inhaling at the same time. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Steve's heart rate, which had started to climb, began to slow back down. They did it two more times to nothing but their breathing and the soft sound of whatever song Kas was still playing faintly from the radio.

"Good?" Robin asked, searching his eyes when they were finished focusing on breathing. 

"Yeah," he said, giving a single nod. "I'm good."

Robin nodded back, chewing on her bottom lip before looking at the radio. Steve could tell she was thinking. She had her thinking face on, a small crease tucked between her brow. She opened her mouth, promptly closed it, then opened it again, drawing breath. Steve waited. He knew it was a process. 

"You think that... the original owner of the car was... murdered. And you think that... what? The car is acting up because of that? It's become sentient?" 

Steve wasn't entirely sure what 'sentient' meant, like, a sentinel? He wasn't sure what that had to do with anything, but he focused on the stuff he did understand. 

"No, no, I'm saying... Kas..." and he glanced at the radio like he was looking for backup. "He was human once. He lived here, in Hawkins. We think he got... murdered. And he's, well, he's like... possessing the car now? Haunting it? We don't really know. Kas doesn't really know."

Robin's face became more and more confused the longer that Steve went on and he felt like he was botching his explanation. Dammit, he was gonna lose her again. 

"I would share all this myself but, hey, you can't fucking hear me," Kas said, annoyance clear in his tone. "Only this guy can." 

Steve frowned pointedly at the radio. This guy? "The guy helping your chrome metal ass out," he muttered under his breath. 

"Oh, I'm sorry? You got something to say, Hair?" 

Steve rolled his eyes, shifting in his seat and stretching out his left leg. 

"Nothing, just that I don't see anyone else lining up to help you—"

"Steve," Robin cut in sharply and Steve glanced over at her. "Focus." She glanced between him and the radio before refocusing her attention back on him. "So... haunted car." 

Steve shrugged and let out a long sigh, tipping his head back against the seat. "That's the working theory, yeah," he said, flapping a hand uselessly before letting it fall. "Kas doesn't... doesn't remember uh... the dying part. But he thinks, no, he's... he's pretty certain someone um. Did this to him. Killed him."

Kas was quieter than normal. Steve didn't like saying all this stuff out loud but he couldn't not say it. Robin needed to know the full story. Robin sat back in her seat, too, still worrying at her lower lip, moving her hand to play with some of the bangles on her wrist. 

"Okay. Haunted. So... a ghost. Or—or a poltergeist."

"I'm not a fucking poltergeist," Kas said sharply, very adamant and very clear. "I'm not going around trying to lure kids into their TVs and causing havoc and shit."

"Yeah, yeah, okay," Steve said, then looked at Robin, shaking his head. "He says he's not a poltergeist—"

"Fuck no."

"Definitely not a poltergeist."

"How would he even know?" Robin asked, raising an eyebrow. Steve opened his mouth but couldn't think of an answer, so he turned towards the radio until Robin spoke up again. "You know what? Never mind. Doesn't matter. It's like... okay, so it's like... a séance." Steve frowned more deeply at the word. "A séance!" Robin said again, sitting up and turning fully towards Steve with excitement. 

"A... what?" 

"A séance," she said. "It's like... a ceremony. Where people gather and they try to communicate with someone from the Great Beyond." She waggled her fingers and made a mysterious 'ooh-ing' sound. "Like, communicating with a ouija board or—or something. I'm sure there's like, books on it in the library. How to communicate with spirits and stuff. We can do that!"

"Uh," Steve said, not fully understanding. "Ouija boards? Isn't that just like, some hokey game?" Honestly, it'd always given him the heebie jeebies, hearing kids in school talking about a slumber party gone wrong. But maybe those were just urban legends. Either way, Steve had never wanted to mess with the things himself. Why tempt fate, right?

"Hokey game?" Robin echoed, giving him an affronted look. "No, no, it's a tool used to communicate with the dead, Steve. It's been around for ages! Tested! I went to this girl on my lacrosse team's slumber party once, Lindsey Martin? She had one and we talked to her dead grandmother, Steve. Her grandmother."

"Okay," Steve said, still not getting it. "What's that got to do with anything...?"

"No, no, she has a point," Kas interjected. "Ouija boards. I've used one, too. We could... well, we could certainly give it a shot."

"Kas says yes," Steve said and Robin pumped a fist in the air. Not the whole way, because of the height of the car's roof, but a little half (but no less enthusiastic) pump of her fist. Even if Robin didn't fully believe him, it was good to see her getting excited about even this small aspect of trying to find some answers. "Alright, so... where do we get one of these... board things?" 

Chapter Text

The obvious answer seemed to be Lindsey Martin, but Robin said that Lindsey was a no go. When Steve asked why, Robin turned red and immediately tried to change the subject. When pressed, Robin said something embarrassing happened at the slumber party and there was no way she was going to show up at Lindsey's out of the blue, like, obviously, Steve.

So. No Lindsey. 

"We can find one later," Robin said. "We're already here, at the library. Might as well do some research like you'd planned originally, right?"

"I guess," Steve said with a small groan, cursing his luck. He was hoping to have gotten out of studying. 

"Don't sound too excited," Kas said and Steve rolled his eyes, letting out a huff. "Look, you actually get to go and do something," Kas continued. "You wanna switch? I gotta stay out here for who knows how long, rusting under the sun."

"You're not gonna rust," Steve countered, flippantly gesturing towards the clear blue autumn sky. "It's not even raining."

"Yeah, well, it'll be from old age, then. Get going, huh? Time's a'wastin'."

"Uh... you two... good?" Robin asked, eyes searching Steve's only a bit frantically. She was handling this pretty well, all things considered. Steve wasn't sure she really believed him or if she was just giving him the benefit of the doubt. It sounded crazy, he knew. If Robin had come to him with this, he wasn't sure he wouldn't be reacting the same way, if not worse. Maybe concerned she'd hit her head or had a stroke. Young people could get strokes, right? 

"We're fine. He's just impatient," Steve said, going to open the car door but the lock slammed down. "Kas," Steve said with a pointed glare towards the radio. 

"What?" he asked in a tone that belied its seeming innocence. 

"Open the door."

"I don't know what you mean."

Steve felt Robin looking at him, her hand on her own door and he nodded towards her, a silent encouragement to get going. They'd known each other long enough now that they were often able to communicate with just a look. Robin's eyebrows drifted up before she gave a nod, opening her door with ease and climbing out onto the sidewalk. 

"See?" Kas said. "Doors work fine." 

"Uh huh," Steve said, reaching to unlock the door again and then reaching for the handle just as the lock slammed down once more. "Kas! You're not helping your case here, buddy."

"Apologies, your highness," Kas replied smoothly, an air of amusement in his voice that Steve didn't appreciate. "Here."

The lock clicked open and Steve rolled his eyes, lifting the handle and stepping out into the bright afternoon sunlight. "Thanks," he said without a hint of true gratitude. And perhaps he slammed the car door with a little more force than was absolutely necessary. The radio turned to static before it shut off. "Behave," Steve said, putting a hand on the roof and leaning down to peer in through the window. 

"Oh, scout's fucking honor here, Hair," Kas's voice said, fainter now that Steve was outside the car. "No need to worry 'bout little ole me."

Steve's eyes narrowed, fingers drumming along the rooftop for a second more. "We'll be back soon," he promised but he like, couldn't really promise that, could he? Maybe it was more of a hope. He hoped they'd be back soon because God knew he didn't want to spend his whole day at the Hawkins Library. 

Robin was quick to lead them into the 001's, beelining for the absolute beginning of the non-fiction section, fingertips trailing over dusty book spines. Steve scanned the titles as he followed her, a frown pinching his brow. "UFOs?" he questioned. "Aliens? Big Foot? Is this the right section?" he asked. 

"Yes," Robin replied tersely, glancing over her shoulder at him before she stopped in front of a particular set of shelves, dropping into a squat as she perused them. "Here," she said, tapping some titles and drawing his eye to them, most of them had a 133 on the spine followed by another string of numbers after a decimal. "Hauntings, spirits, ghosts. This is what we want." She grabbed a bunch, more than Steve thought really necessary, and got to her feet, arms full, before looking around. "Let's go to the study room." 

The private study room was, fortunately, not currently in use. He and Robin went inside and she dumped her haul onto a table. "Alright, there's gotta be some answers in here."

Steve picked through the pile. "Ghosts and You, Most Haunted Places in Indiana, Communicating With the Beyond. What about... what about like, researching recent deaths and stuff?" he asked, glancing at her. 

"We'll get to that," she said, waving a hand. "But we should prepare for the séance too, don't you think? Like, if you want to do that today? Oh, or would nighttime be better?" She clapped her hands and looked at him. "The witching hour, spooky. Who knows what could happen?" 

"Sure," he said, shaking his head and picking up Communicating with the Beyond, rifling through the pages. The word 'séance' caught his eye and he stopped, peering closer at the section. "Says you need like, four to ten people for a séance, Rob," he said, flipping the book towards her. 

"Huh?" she asked, taking the book from him, her eyes skimming the page he pointed out. "Oh. Hmm. What's it say about Ouija boards?" 

Robin, the resourceful person that she was, started taking notes. Steve tried to help out, he really did, but the words started swimming on the page. Weren't making any sense to him. What did bells and chimes have to do with talking to ghosts? Or salt for that matter? He read something about salt being used as a protective measure, but he didn't get how table salt was supposed to help with ghosts. Did they have a low sodium tolerance or something? 

While the books gave instructions for how to talk to ghosts and summon spirits they sure came with a lot of warnings, too. For instance, the person you were trying to contact—they might refuse to appear or someone else could answer the call instead. It helped if you had something that belonged to the deceased. Well, maybe they had that covered, Steve thought. That red guitar pick on the chain, hanging in the car. It could’ve belonged to Kas, right? Even though Kas couldn’t remember. He hoped that maybe they’d get lucky that way, but he wasn’t known for having the best of luck. Just look at his love life.

The books also mentioned that sometimes ghosts clung to something of theirs that'd been left behind, like hair or fingernails or teeth (gross) or even bones. He really hoped he didn't have to go looking for Kas's teeth. 

Or bones. 

He didn't want to come face-to-face with a human body. Or like, depending on when Kas had died, like a half-decayed corpse or something. No thanks.

Either way, Steve had gotten bored. He pushed his book away from him and rubbed his eyes with his hand, staving off the headache that was threatening to bloom. Robin was deeply absorbed, tapping her pencil against her lips. "How's the research going?" he asked. Robin blinked, dropping her pencil and glancing at him. 

"Oh, good, yeah," she said. "Did you know iron is like, a ghost deterrent? Apparently, it can dismiss a physical manifestation if you pierce them with iron. At least, temporarily, or like... that's the theory." 

"Right," Steve replied, not really understanding. He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed, dropping his elbows on the table and folding his arms across the top. "Wanna check out the newspapers?" 

Steve hadn't been in the library's basement more than a handful of times. Well. A couple of times, once with Nancy, when she was doing research. They were given special access to go downstairs and look at the microfiche. The second time, he'd come here with Sharon Dalton. He knew what key to ask for (after Nancy) and pretended to be working on a paper. They'd had the whole place to themselves and really, it was a great spot for making out. He doubted other people had thought to use it, unless they were nerds. 

But nerds weren't known for breaking the rules, were they? 

Actually, considering the group of nerds he hung around with, yeah, they were. All nerdy little rule breakers, the lot of them. 

Either way, Steve had never come down here to do research himself. "What are we looking for exactly?" Robin asked, jogging down the steps ahead of Steve. 

"I dunno," he said as he followed behind her. "Recent, unexplained deaths? Weird deaths? Maybe?" He shook his head. "What was that thing you read again? About ghosts?" 

"'People who die a violent death are more likely to have unfinished business than people who die peacefully'," Robin read off of her notepad and Steve caught a glimpse of her tiny, spiky scrawl. He had no idea how she could read that chicken scratch. "I... that makes sense, right? A person who like, dies in their sleep from old age isn't going to have as much beef as someone who was, you know, murdered in cold blood. God, can you imagine? Waking up on earth but no one can see you or hear you or... anything. Must be awful."

"Yeah, well, we can hear Kas," he replied, not liking the idea of Kas drifting through the world alone, no one hearing him or acknowledging that he even existed. Trapped in a car and fated to pass from driver to driver. 

"Correction, you can hear Kas," Robin said, shaking her head and glancing at him as they reached the ground floor. "Which, I'm still not sure how you can and I, for some reason, can't. If anyone's got ESP of the two of us, it'd have to be me, right?" 

"ESP?"

"Extra sensory perception," Robin recited, throwing him an excited look. "Able to sense things other people can't. My great great aunt was supposedly psychic, so like..." She gestured between them. "It's in my blood. You?" She shook her head. "You don't even believe in ghosts."

"Kind of hard not to believe in them when one's haunting your car," he muttered, following her as she led the way. Robin didn't respond and he wasn't sure if she'd heard him or not, but then she started pulling drawers open at random (or so it seemed to Steve). 

"Weird, recent deaths," she murmured. "Why don't we go back like, the last six months? Start with the local papers and then uh, go from there?" She looked up at him for confirmation. Steve gave a nod, shrugging and stuffing his hands in his jacket pockets. "Alright, guess we got some work to do."

— —

His headache was well and truly going now. He sat hunched in his chair, scanning past Hawkins Post articles for something, anything, but he kept coming up with a whole lotta nothing. Hawkins was a small town but it wasn't that small; there were plenty of people Steve had never crossed paths with, would likely never cross paths with, but he felt like if there were a murder here, it'd be all over the news.

After all, when Will went missing they hadn't shut up about it, which was good, obviously. He was a kid, lost so deep in the woods no one could find him. The news hadn't stopped talking about that. It seemed like the only thing on the TV for the longest time. Of course, he knew Will now. He hadn't at the time, but after starting to date Nancy and being at the Wheeler house, the designated hang-out spot for the crew of rambunctious teenagers he'd somehow managed to become friends with, he’d gotten to know Will Byers, too.

Lost all his old friends only to gain a bunch of loyal nerdy fucking smart (ass) teenagers instead. He still didn't know how he'd managed to swing that, given his reputation. Whatever the case, he was part of their 'party' now. Still wasn't a hundred percent sure what that meant, but according to Dustin it meant he was one of them. A party member never turned their back on another party member. Friends for life. 

"Finding anything?" Robin asked from the other side of the booth. Steve sighed, leaning to the side so he could see her. After a second, Robin did the same. 

"Not really," he said, giving a shrug before turning back to the article he'd been scanning. "Besides the increasing rise of concern that kids are being inducted into occult societies and shit."

"Oh?" Robin asked, her voice adjusting as she settled back into her own seat. He heard her groan, assumed she was stretching since her chair creaked. "My parents were talking about that. It's just everybody trying to find something to point their fingers at and blame, you know? Like, kids today aren't any different than our parents when they were our age, y’know? Or throughout history! Kids are always going to rebel against authority, that's just the way of things. Same propaganda, different scapegoat." 

"Yeah," Steve agreed, having lost her a little while back, but he wasn't sure she was wrong. Robin wasn't usually wrong. "That and we're apparently experiencing more rain for this time of year than in years past, so, y'know, real page-turning stuff." But not what they were looking for. Nothing about murders. 

"You know," Robin began, then leaned over again so Steve did, too. "Maybe this is the wrong kind of paper."

"Like... newspaper?" Steve asked, confused. 

"Well, yeah, but no, but yeah," Robin said, bouncing up out of her seat. "I mean, maybe if we're looking for weird, we need to be looking elsewhere. Like..." She walked back to the rows of filing cabinets, stopping beside one. "The Weekly Watcher." 

"The paper that publishes stuff on like, aliens and Big Foot?"

"Yeah," Robin says, pulling some of the microfiche out and handing them to him. "Why didn't I think of this before? If anything's 'weird' the Weekly Watcher’s more likely to report it than the Hawkins Post."

"Okay," Steve said slowly, not sure, but trusting Robin's judgement. Taking their finds back to study, they sat back down again. At least these articles had more interesting headlines than the Post did, jeez. That was enough to give Steve some renewed energy. He wasn't even sure how long they'd been down here for, but he felt bad leaving Kas up there by himself.

"'Victor Creel claims vengeful demon killed family'," Robin muttered in a loud, dramatic, spooky voice. "’The murder that shocked a small community’."

"What?" Steve asked. He was tired of leaning over to the side whenever he wanted to speak to her, so he got to his feet, walking around to her side of the booth, peering over her shoulder. 

"It's all right here," Robin said, gesturing to the monitor and yeah, Steve could read the headline himself. 

"That's like... from the fifties," he said, noting the date. "How's that helpful?" 

Robin picked up the box and read the label. "Shit, it must have been mislabeled." She tipped her head back to look at him and shrugged. "But it's weird, right? Some kind of invisible demon, striking at this family, killing all of them except the dad." 

"Weird, sure," Steve said with a soft huff. "But Kas isn't a demon."

"Are we sure about that?" Robin asked and it was genuine enough, but Steve didn't like the implication. 

"Uh, yeah," he said, giving a shrug. "Kas is a ghost." Or a ghost trapped inside of a car, something like that. 

"I'll believe it when we can actually talk to him," Robin said, giving a definitive nod before turning back to her screen. "Let's look at a few more, demons or no."

They didn't have much luck, but Robin wasn't deterred, said they could come back or even request some information, or go to another library. All Steve wanted to do was go home, crash into bed and lie in the darkness for a while, but he wasn't going to bring down Robin's spirits. Even if she didn't fully believe him yet, she was still excited about helping him investigate, at least. That was something. 

Kas sat in the parking space Steve had left him in. He walked over to the car, turning back to Robin. "Need a ride?" he asked her.

"In the haunted car?" Robin asked, raising an eyebrow skeptically. 

"Yeah..." Steve replied slowly. He couldn't help that it was haunted.

"Alright, fine," she said and walked with him, waiting for him to unlock the door and slipping inside while he closed it behind her. "Maybe we don't need a Ouija board," Robin said as he got in on his side. "Maybe we just need to hold a séance."

"And what do we gotta do for that?" Steve asked. "What's the difference?" 

"Well, obviously, with a Ouija board you have, you know, the board?" Robin said as she buckled her seat belt. "A séance is like... candles and crystal balls and stuff like that."

"Okay," Steve said, remembering the little bit he'd read in that one ghost book. "But we'd need more people for that, right? It was like, at least four people."

"Well, there's you," Robin said, counting on her fingers. "And me." 

"That's two."

"And Kas!"

"Not to interrupt whatever this lovely moment is, but... séance?" Kas asked, voice crackling from the radio through static before it evened out. Both Robin and Steve glanced at it, Robin with a small frown.

"Uh, yeah," Steve said, turning to buckle himself in, get the keys in the ignition. "Robin and I, well, we didn't really find anything about any local murders..."

"Great."

"...but we did find some books about ghosts and stuff," he said, looking at Robin and raising his eyebrows at her. Little help here? 

"Oh, yeah, totally!" Robin said, maybe a touch too enthusiastically. "Nothing about any murders, but there was this one guy in the fifties who claimed that a demon killed his whole family and—"

"Are you... does she mean the Creel guy?" 

Steve's eyebrows went up in surprise. 

"Yeah, uh, Vince Creel or something like that—"

"Victor," Robin corrected, glancing between him and the radio before pointing at it. "Are you talking to him right now?" Steve nodded. "Why do you always look there?" 

"Uh, I dunno," Steve said, giving a shrug. "It's like, where his voice comes through." 

"Back to the topic at hand, please?" Kas interjected and Steve nodded. 

"Sorry, um, yeah, he was asking about V— this Creel guy. You've... heard of him?" 

"Kind of an urban legend but yeah," Kas said. "At least, around where I grew up. Guy that went crazy and killed his whole family. His house is haunted. Kids used to dare each other to climb the front porch and ring the doorbell."

"Wait, his house... it's still standing?" 

"As far as I know," Kas replied. "I mean, I remember going there. Not inside. It's all boarded up and shit. Never actually got the balls to try and break in, there's just something... off... about the place." 

"Off?" Steve echoed. 

"Yeah, it's... this is gonna sound so fucking juvenile but it's creepy, man, okay? None of us ever got the courage to go further than the porch."

"What's he saying?" Robin demanded throwing her hands up in the air. "God, this is torture only hearing one side of the conversation." 

"Um, he's, Kas, he said he's been there. That it's still around, but uh, all boarded up." Steve shrugged. "Guess that makes sense. How many people want to move into a murder house?" 

"Okay, so... what? Is it connected?" 

"I don't... is it?" Steve asked, directing his words towards Kas. "Like, is it something worth checking out?" 

"You tell me," Kas said, sounding a little defensive. "You're the ones who brought it up. Is it something we should check out? We can go right now if so." 

"No, no, no, I gotta take Robin home," Steve said and felt Robin looking at him since he'd mentioned her name. To her, he said, "He said we can go check it out right now, if we want." 

Robin paused, a little furrow between her brow; her thinking expression. "I think we're getting ahead of ourselves," she said. "Why don't we just... take a beat? Focus on the séance."

"Okay, and what's a séance gonna do, exactly?" Kas asked. "It's not gonna make me magically remember shit, is it?"

"I mean, we don't know that, do we?" Steve asked, looking between them. "How do séances work?" 

"I don't know what he's saying, but I think if we get all the right tools and found a place to do this, then yeah, it could lead to some answers." She motioned towards the radio. "Answers about you. Things that you're looking for. It might, I don't know, spark something."

"Do either of you even know how to conduct a séance?" Kas asked. With the way his voice sounded, Steve could picture him, some faceless guy, his arms folded across his chest. 

"Uh, Kas wants to know if we know how to conduct a séance," Steve said to Robin, looking over at her. 

"I mean, I do in theory," Robin said, then hefted one of the books she'd checked out. "Which is why I intend to do some studying. We'll reconvene and yeah, find a solution."

"You said you needed four people, if I heard you correctly," Kas said. "I only see two."

"Well, there's..." Steve started and trailed off. Who the fuck else did they have that would be interested in a séance? The kids? Hell, he didn't know. He didn't know if he wanted to involve any of them in this ridiculous, unreal situation. Would they even believe him? He knew they were into like, nerd shit. They'd dressed up as the Ghostbusters only a few years ago! Those were ghost hunters. Damn, maybe there were some answers in the movie. 

"Look, we'll figure it out later!" Robin said, making a wild gesture. "Now, c'mon. I got studying to do. You should, too." She gave Steve a pointed glance. 

"Study? Study what?" he asked, starting the car. But the engine didn't turn on. He looked down at the wheel, giving it a slight tap. "C'mon, Kas, buddy." 

"Fine," he said and Steve tried again, pleased when the car started this time, the engine roaring. 

"Something easy," Robin said. "Go for a drive around town. Maybe it'll spark Kas's memory or something. I'll handle the books. You'll be our man on the ground." 

"Okay," Steve said slowly, not entirely understanding what 'man on the ground' meant. His feet were always on the ground, so he didn't know what she was getting at. "We can just... drive around, yeah."

"Good."

— —

They dropped Robin off at her house. Steve, sitting there to make sure she got inside, watched her drop one of her books and come darting back to pick it up before scurrying on her way. "Alright," Steve said, starting to pull away from the curb. "Let's go for a drive." 

They left Robin's house behind. Steve didn't really have a plan or anything, no thoughts on where to start or what he was even supposed to be looking for. Just drive around and pray that Kas would recognize something? "So, uh, you wanna drop by the Creel house just in case?" Steve asked as he drove. "Since you remember that place?" 

Kas was silent for a stretch and Steve waited, rolling to a stop at a stop sign. There wasn't anybody around, so he kept going after a moment.

"Guess it wouldn't hurt," Kas finally responded. "But I'm telling you now, I don't think we'll find anything there." 

"I mean, I don't think we need to go inside—"

"We?"

"I... okay, just me, I guess, but I'm not going inside someone crazy guy's haunted house." 

"Scared?" 

Steve shot a glare at the radio. "Because I have some sense of self preservation? What if it is haunted? You're haunted." 

"Technically, the car is haunted and I'm doing the haunting." 

"Whatever, I just don't think it's a good idea, is all." 

"It's okay to be scared," Kas said and there wasn't anything snide in his tone, he sounded... really genuine about it, actually. "In the face of the unknown, it's natural." 

"I... okay," Steve said, surprised. His old friends would've poked and jabbered and prodded, made fun of him for being a wuss, a chicken, a pussy. Scared of going into a supposedly haunted house alone. It was exactly the kind of thing Tommy and them would've done, but Steve had never heard of Victor Creel.

"You're handling it all surprisingly well," Kas continued. "Well, aside from freaking out in the beginning." The car engine revved in its familiar short bursts. Steve shook his head, but he started to smile. 

"Yeah, well, maybe this isn't my first time dealing with a haunted object," he said. "You're not special." 

"I'm not?" 

The tone threw Steve off. He wasn't sure why but it sent a faint bit of heat prickling through his cheeks and he cleared his throat, letting out a chuckle. 

"No," he said, shaking his head, playfully tapping the side of the steering wheel. "Not at all."

"Keep telling yourself that, Hair," Kas said, starting to go a little faster. Steve rolled his eyes.

Steve realized he didn't actually know where they were going. He quickly surmised he wasn't in control of the wheel anymore anyway, so he let his hands rest there. It was weird, feeling the car move under its own power while he had no control over anything at all. Weird, but… he was sort of getting used to it.

Soon enough, they were pulling up in a neighborhood Steve had only ever driven through but never spent much time in. The sidewalk and streets were quiet as Kas took a turn. Steve glanced out the window, spying an old playground, a rocket shaped structure pointing up towards the sky, neglected and covered in rust. 

"We're here," Kas said, his voice quieter as the Impala came to a stop. Steve leaned forward, peering out the passenger window, catching a glimpse of a big, imposing house, windows all boarded up. Looked like a dollhouse, like the one Holly Wheeler had gotten for Christmas a couple years ago. Fancy and old-looking. 

"That's it?" Steve asked. "Shit. You weren't kidding." 

Steve couldn't put his finger on it, but looking up at the house gave him a distinctly wrong feeling, like hearing nails on a chalkboard. The feeling crawled along his spine. He couldn't shake the sensation that the house was observing him just as much as he was observing it. 

"That's it," Kas confirmed. "You wanna... you wanna get out?" 

"Not particularly," Steve muttered, chewing on his bottom lip. "Is it uh, sparking anything? For you?" 

The engine idled, the only noise in the otherwise deathly silent neighborhood. 

"No," Kas said, a sigh in his tone. "I remember being here with... with other people. My friends, I think. But I don't remember anything else. Sorry."

"It's okay," Steve said, patting the dashboard lightly. "Just means we got some more driving around to do, I guess."

Driving around town didn't seem to go anywhere, but Steve kept it to himself what a waste of time he thought it was. If he was disappointed, he could only imagine what it was like for Kas. They drove to Main Street. Steve pointed out different landmarks with Kas confirming that he knew them, but other than recalling them, he couldn't remember anything about himself. 

They ended up driving back to Steve's house with no other leads. It was starting to get dark. Steve sat in the driveway, taking the keys out and playing with them. He felt bad, once again, for leaving Kas all by himself out here. His eyes caught on the guitar pick and he reached a hand out towards it, thumbing over the red shade, scrubbing more of the dried blood off. "You sure you don't remember if this is yours or not?" he asked. 

"I mean... maybe?" Kas said, voice softer before he sighed. "It doesn't ring any bells, if that's what you're asking." 

Steve shrugged and let the thing go. "We'll figure it out," he said, giving a nod. "Promise."

"Sure," Kas said. He sounded so dejected. Steve wanted to reassure him but at the same time, he didn't know if things would be okay or not. Or even if they would figure it out. This should've never happened to Kas, to anybody, and Steve couldn't even imagine how he felt. 

"I'll see you tomorrow," he said, patting the seat before he got out of the car to go inside, giving one final look over his shoulder at the Impala.

— —

"Okay, I think I got it figured out," Robin said, barreling on full steam ahead over the phone while Steve stood there trying to play catch up. He hadn't even had his morning coffee. He wasn't ready for this level of enthusiasm. That didn't seem to deter Robin - who wasn't a coffee drinker herself; she preferred tea.

"Okay, so you need a group of people, like you said. They recommend at least three from what I read. We need to find a quiet place where we won't be disturbed, that's important. Setting the mood is important, too. It should be quiet, soft lighting, and we just have to pick out what tool, or tools, we want to contact the spirit with. So, like, a spirit board, or Ouija board, would work, or a pendulum. They even said if you can get a medium, like a psychic, you know? They can be your conduit for contacting the other side."

"Robbie," Steve said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Okay, so... so what's the best thing to use?" 

"It doesn't say, but each method has their pros and cons. Do you know anybody who's psychic?" 

"No," he said, exasperated. "I thought you said your great grandmother or something was—"

"Well, she's not around anymore, Steve! It's just me and I guess I didn't inherit those genes." 

"Are you sure?" he asked. "Maybe you did and you just don't know." 

"I—" Robin didn't say anything for a moment or two. "Okay, alright, I guess I could try."

"You're our best bet," Steve said. "Think it's gotta be you."

"Okay, I... okay, yeah, I can... I can do this," she said, tone still uncertain but gaining some confidence. "I can do this. We need to pick a method."

"What were the methods again?" 

"Uh, spirit/Ouija board, crystal ball, pendulum—"

"What's that one?" Steve asked, frowning. "The penta thing?"

"Pendulum," Robin replied. "It can be used as like, a divination tool or something? For finding things? Maybe that could help."

"I think Henderson has one of those," Steve said, propping a hand against the wall. "Yeah, I heard him talking about it, for a project, I think."

"We do need at least one more person," Robin said slowly. 

"Yeah, but... should we really involve any of the kids?" Steve asked, frowning a little bit deeper. "I don't know..."

"Yeah, but like, if he did a project about it, maybe he can help! And besides, you think if we go to him asking to borrow his pendulum he's just gonna lend it to us with no questions asked? C'mon, Steve."

She had a point. Steve highly doubted that Dustin would let them have it without asking a bajillion questions about what they wanted to do with it. "Alright, but... what are we going to tell him?"

— —

They decided to wait to tell Dustin anything until they had a plan for the séance in place. Had to be a day, or night, when neither of them were working, and it had to be private. That was key. Fortunately for them, Steve's parents were both going to be away this week, so he had the house to himself.

Robin thought the basement would be the best choice even though Steve thought that was going to be a little too spooky. She was undeterred, though. Claimed that the atmosphere had to be perfect. Apparently, the basement, with its bar his father didn't even use and pool table and everything, had the 'perfect atmosphere'. Oh well, at least it was going to see some use, he supposed. 

Kas was a little skeptical of involving anyone else when Steve brought it up to him on the way to work. Which, yeah, Steve guessed he could understand. Robin was already involved, which was one more person than either of them expected. Even if Steve was really, really grateful that Robin knew and, while yeah, she may not fully believe him, it seemed that she was fully on board with getting to the bottom of it all. Or maybe she was just really into the idea of holding a séance. 

He just hoped it would be successful. 

But either way, they had a plan. All they needed was for Dustin to be on board with it. While Steve knew he was into all the science nerdy shit, he didn't know if Dustin believed in ghosts or the supernatural or anything like that. Robin had suggested that maybe they just tell Dustin they wanted to hold a séance but not give him any specifics. Steve wasn't sure he felt right about keeping Dustin out of the loop (and wasn't sure he'd be able to convincingly lie to Dustin’s face). 

"I don't think you should tell him," was Kas' opinion about the whole thing. "The more people that know, the more it could get out, ya know?"

"Get... what out, exactly?" Steve asked as they drove (mostly Kas) to Family Video. It was getting easier to relinquish control to the Impala, although it probably wasn't a good habit to be building. Eventually, he'd have to be in control of his own vehicle again, but who knew when that would be? 

"It could tip off whoever was responsible for offing me, Harrington," Kas said, tone terse and impatient. "I'd prefer them not to know I'm on their trail."

"We don't even know who they are yet," Steve pointed out. 

"Yeah. I know. We should be focusing on that instead of kum-by-ya'ing around the fire." The engine revved. The Impala sped up for a stretch before slowing back down and Steve frowned, not sure what to say to comfort the guy. What could be said? 

"Look, let's just... do the séance thing," Steve said. "We'll see what happens. You'll be there. We can see if it brings back any of your, y’know, your memories and stuff. Then after that, we'll make our next move. We're flying blind here right now. Any answers we might get, that you might have, are going to help."

Kas was silent and Steve could tell he wasn't that happy about it, but he didn't suggest that Steve go fuck himself so... that was something. 

"Alright," Kas said finally. "Guess it couldn't hurt. Who is this kid anyway?" 

— —

"Dustin, Steve's here to see you!" Steve smiled politely at Claudia as she waved him inside. "He's in his room, but you can go on back. You two want anything? We have juice or soda, or I can get a pot of coffee going?"

"We're good, Mrs. Henderson," Steve said, looking at Robin to confirm that was the case and she nodded. "He's in his room?" 

"Oh, yeah, go ahead," Claudia said, waving them on. "Let me know if you two need anything." 

They assured her they would before they both walked back to Dustin’s room. Steve rapped on the doorframe before he entered. Dustin was at his desk, a pair of headphones over his ears, bopping his head in time with whatever music he was listening to and tapping his pencil along with the beat. Steve could kind of catch the music. Whatever it was, it was loud. Loud enough that Steve thought maybe Dustin shouldn't be listening to it right up against his ears like that.

It was clear that Dustin hadn't heard them enter, nor apparently, his mother calling his name. Steve spotted a rubber band on top of Dustin's dresser and pulled it back between thumb and forefinger, sending it to the wall by Dustin's head. He was pleased to see Dustin jump when the rubber band, seemingly out of nowhere, hit the wall and landed on his desk. Robin jabbed him in the gut with her elbow. "What?" he said and she rolled her eyes. 

Removing his headphones, Dustin whirled around in his seat, relaxing when he saw who it was. "Did it ever occur to you that there are better ways of getting my attention, Steve?" Dustin asked, folding his arms across his chest. 

"Uh, yeah, but this was the more fun way," Steve said, shaking his head like it was obvious. Dustin rolled his eyes, then glanced at Robin before back at Steve. "Alright, so besides interrupting my homework, what are you doing here?"

"We're just uh, in the neighborhood," Steve began. Robin nudged him, hard, in the side. "Ow," he said, fixing her with a glare. She raised her eyebrows at him, so he took a breath and looked back at Henderson. "We um, needed to ask you some... questions." 

Dustin raised one eyebrow, gaze focused on Steve for a second before he looked at Robin. 

"What are you doing here? Some actual answers, please." 

"Okay," Robin said, turning to Dustin eagerly. "You know how like, there's things in the universe that can't be explained? Like, the feeling of déjà vu or how you can see the moon in the sky at the same time as the sun sometimes—"

"An... eclipse?" Dustin broke in, looking as confused as Steve felt. What the fuck was Robin on about? The moon and the sun in the sky at the same time? That's where they were supposed to be, right? 

"No, no, not an eclipse," Robin said with a vehement shake of her head. "I'm just saying, like, like, the things you can't explain away easily. A tingle down your spine, the way you can feel when someone is watching you but there's no scientific way to prove that—"

"I'm sure there is," Dustin said, interrupting again. "There's probably been studies and we just don't have the information—"

"We're talking about ghosts," Steve said, tired of this roundabout conversation, thoughts firmly on Kas and everything that was weighing on the guy, all the unanswered questions. If he were here, he'd likely be very impatient and frustrated. The image he held of Kas in his head was still faceless, but Steve could imagine him pacing.  

"Ghosts?" Dustin asked. Instead of his imperious expression, the one in which he looked oh so high and mighty (the one that always made Steve want to knock his ego down a peg or two), his expression morphed into one of pure confusion, searching gaze split between them before resettling on Steve. "Like, if it's scientifically possible for ghosts to exist? I mean, there've been studies into the paranormal but a lot of it is hypothetical. Is there life after death? We don't know, and it's hard to research something no living person can experience but there have been several studies done on—"

"We need to communicate with a ghost," Robin said, jumping back in (thank God, because Steve was losing his footing trying to figure out what Dustin was even talking about). "We think... we think we found one."

"O...kay," Dustin said, his eyes narrowing. "Robin I can believe, but Steve? You? You think you saw... a ghost?" 

"No, no, no, no," Steve said quickly, shaking his head and waving a hand. "I didn't see it, but I um... think I heard it." He cut a quick glance to Robin, raising pointed eyebrows at her. What are we doing here, Robs? 

Robin raised her own eyebrows back at him, giving an encouraging nod before looking back at Dustin. "Okay, look, you might not believe us, but—but, in the name of science, we need you, okay? We want to hold a séance. And we need you because... because Steve said you did a project with pendulums."

"I... what?" Dustin asked. "Yeah, I mean... I don't get how a pendulum is going to help with a... I'm sorry, did you say you want to hold a séance?" 

"Yes," both Steve and Robin said at the same time and they glanced at each other before Robin cleared her throat and continued. "We've got it all figured out. We need at least three people. Me, Steve, and..." She gestured at Dustin. "And a private place. Steve volunteered his parents’ basement. And we just need a tool to use to speak to the spirit. Hence, pendulum."

Dustin was looking at both of them as if they'd started speaking gibberish before he shook his head, brow furrowed together. "How is a pendulum supposed to help?" He got to his feet and turned around, reaching up to one of his shelves and pulling down a little device. It was metal, Steve could tell, and clacked faintly as parts of it moved. Dustin put it down on his desk, an unassuming row of metal balls on strings. "This is a pendulum," he said, stopping the balls from moving. "I was doing a project on physics and..." He plucked one of the balls on the end and swung it back. Steve and Robin watched as it clacked into the motionless balls, the ball on the opposite side moving. Dustin grinned and looked over at them. "See, the way it works is—"

"I don't think that's the right kind of pendulum," Robin said with a frown, digging into her bag and pulling out a book. Steve recognized it as one of the ones from the library. There were colorful Post-its sticking out of it every which way and Steve wondered when the fuck she'd had time to make all these notes. Impressive work when he thought that she wasn't entirely sold on the idea of Kas being real. Maybe she was starting to believe in him?

Or maybe she was just really excited about holding a séance. 

"Here. It's this," Robin said, flipping her book open and showing Dustin an illustration. He took the book from her and Steve tried to catch a glimpse of the page, spotting only an oblong triangular looking shape before it was out of his field of vision. "It's used in divination and to communicate with spirits beyond the grave." She shrugged. "That's what the book says, at least."

"No, I definitely don't have one of these," Dustin said, humming thoughtfully and flipping through the pages, eager eyes scanning Robin's marked pages way faster than Steve could. But of course, this probably made more sense to Dustin than it did to him. He looked up at them both, opening his mouth, then closing it, wordlessly handing Robin her book back. "I don't know about a pendulum, but I do know someone who might be able to help."

Robin and Steve exchanged a glance before Steve waved a hand for him to continue. "Go on, Henderson, don't leave us hanging."

"Jane," Dustin said with a shrug, leaning back against his desk and folding his arms over his chest. "She's uh, into those kinds of things."

"What kinds of things?" Steve asked and Robin looked as curious as he felt, so at least he wasn't alone. "Like, ghosts and stuff?" 

"Look, I don't know exactly," Dustin said with a shrug of his shoulders. "I just know Lucas is always saying she's got like, ESP or something. Max swears by it. Says Jane can just... look at someone's picture and..."

"And...?" Robin prompted when Dustin trailed off. 

"And, I don't know, know stuff about them?" Dustin said. "Look, I don't know if it's true or not, but..." And he looked around, glancing towards the open door before lowering his voice. "I've heard her say some weird things that... turned out to be true." 

"So, she's a... fortune teller?" Steve asked, trying to think of Jane, sweet, soft-spoken Jane sitting in front of a crystal ball, predicting people's futures. 

"No, no, I didn't say that," Dustin said, shaking his head. "Just... I don't know, sometimes she knows things. Like a sixth sense." 

"Right," Steve said, though he wasn't sure he completely understood. "You think she would help?" he asked, wanting to stay on topic. Whatever was going to help Kas, that's what they were going to do. 

"I... yeah," Dustin said, giving a nod. "I think she would help. Max and Lucas will probably wanna get involved, too. Those three are inseparable." 

Robin huffed slightly, too soft for Dustin to notice. Steve cut a glance towards her, noticing the slight upturn of her lips before her expression slipped back into neutral and Steve couldn't be entirely certain he'd seen anything after all. 

"Alright, so, you, me, Steve, Jane, Max, and Lucas," Robin said, counting on her fingers. "Six of us. Should be good enough for a séance, wouldn't you say?" she asked, glancing over at Steve and raising her eyebrows in question. Waiting for him to sign off on it. It was a position he wasn't entirely used to being in, the others looking at him expectantly. But he supposed, it was his car. Kas. Well. He wasn't really Steve's car. He was and he wasn't. God, this was confusing. 

Kas was his own person but while Kas couldn't solve his own murder, Steve could help him. And that was, well, he supposed it was like his... mission or whatever. 

"Yeah, I think six is good." 

Kas might not enjoy three more people getting roped into his murder investigation (fuck, he might have a field day) but the more people the better, right? 

"How's this Thursday?" Steve asked. 

— —

"Are you fucking kidding me?" 

Kas was... less than thrilled about the news. Steve had expected it but after relaying it on the drive home. He sounded really upset. 

"First, we bring this one in," Kas continued, the windshield wipers flicking up quickly to the right and Steve could only assume he meant Robin since she was still in the car. He noticed Robin clock the movement before her eyes drifted over to Steve's hands which hadn't moved from their positions on the wheel. "Then we have to go talk to this kid for some reason," Kas continued, wipers starting to flick back and forth, faster and faster even though there wasn’t a drop of rain in sight. "And now you're saying you want to bring in three more of them?" 

"They're not kids," Steve said, though they'd always be kids in his eyes. "They're in high school." 

"Yeah?" Kas sounded less than impressed. "So was I." 

"Yeah, but you're like..." Steve's voice trailed off. Right... Kas was held back a few times. He'd said as much. Steve shook his head. "So, you get it!" he argued. "They're really smart. Too smart, really, little smartasses." 

The wipers slowed down slightly to a more steady swish back and forth, the engine humming. Steve wasn't sure if it was a good sign or not. "And you think a group of teenage smartasses is gonna fucking help the situation?" 

"Uh..."

"Look, car," Robin said, interjecting with wandering eyes that couldn't seem to pinpoint on one aspect of the car to address.

"Kas," Steve corrected under his breath. Robin waved a hand dismissively. 

"Kas, whatever," she said. "I don't know what you're saying but trust me, we wouldn't ask them for their help if we didn't think they could... y’know, help." She let out a frustrated sigh. "You're just going to have to trust us, Kas. So… deal with it." 

"'Deal with...'?" Kas asked, a touch of incredulity in his tone, static hissing through his words. "'Deal with it'?" 

"Uh oh." The car began to accelerate, and Steve looked down at the wheel, tightening his grip. "Kas," he warned as the speedometer began to go up... and up and up. 

"What's happening?" Robin asked, wide-eyed and clinging to her seatbelt. He caught her glance at the radio as it buzzed with static.

"Think you made him mad," Steve muttered, pressing his foot against the brake. It wouldn't budge. "Kas! Hey! She didn't mean it!" 

"Like fuck she didn't mean it," Kas growled, metal creaking and groaning. "Deal with it, huh? You try dealing with it! You try dying and not knowing what happened to you and waking up trapped in a fucking car." 

"Kas, buddy, c'mon," Steve entreated as their surroundings whizzed by them, trying to get Kas to relinquish control back to him or at least slow the fuck down, this was becoming dangerous. 

"Steve?" Robin pleaded and Steve couldn't stand that note of worry tinged with fear in her voice. 

"It's okay," he said, but he really didn't know if it was okay. Kas was fucking pissed. "Look," he said to Kas, gripping the steering wheel so hard it was starting to hurt. "I know it's shitty, what happened to you. It fucking sucks, man, it's not right. Whoever you were, are, you don't deserve it, okay? We're just trying to help. And the more people who are involved, the more brains we can put together to figure this out! We're on your side, man. Really." He let out a sigh and looked over at Robin quickly, trying to stay calm even though his heart was hammering with fear that Kas was going to lose control and send them to an untimely death. Maybe they'd all become trapped in the car at that point, fuck. "Robin didn't mean what she said. Right?" 

"R-Right," Robin stammered, pushed back in her seat, fingers clutching the seatbelt strap so hard he could see her arm shaking. "I'm sorry, Kas, I just blurt the wrong things out sometimes. My mom says I suck at social situations and maybe she has a point, because all I do is keep talking when obviously I should shut up and I didn't mean it; it's hard, I know, I'd be frustrated, too—"

"Robin."

"Right, sorry, doing it again," she said with a nervous, breathy laugh. "See? I just... I'm... I'm sorry. Really. Please, please, don't crash us. Please." 

Kas didn't say anything, but the car started to slow down. Steve let out a sigh of relief as they returned to the speed limit. He checked his mirrors and over his shoulder to see if there were any cop cars chasing him down, but... it looked like they were in the clear. For now, at least. Holy shit. Remind him never to piss Kas off again. Guy had a short temper. 

Not that it was right, what Robin said. But Kas didn't know her like Steve knew her. If Robin had any remaining doubts that Kas was real, though, perhaps this would convince her otherwise. He glanced over at her to make sure she was okay and saw that her grip had relaxed. Slightly. Better slightly than not at all. 

"Sorry," Kas muttered softly. "I didn't mean to... I... sorry." 

"It's... It's okay, man," Steve said with a tight nod, rubbing his hand back and forth against the dashboard before patting it in what he hoped was a reassuring way. "We're good, right...?" His eyes slid over to Robin. 

"So good," Robin gushed, giving an overly enthusiastic nod. "Really, really good." 

Steve supposed it was a good thing they reached Robin's house soon after that, getting out of the car to walk her to her front door. Out on the stoop, she hesitated with her keys in her hand, glancing back at the cherry red Impala parked on the street. 

"Jesus, Steve, I don't..." She shook her head, turning wide eyes back to him. "I didn't mean it, y'know? Obviously, it's a big deal. I just... I guess I..." She shrugged, her brow tugging down as whatever storm was brewing behind her eyes raged. "I guess I wasn't thinking of him as a person, really. Which..." She heaved a sigh. "It's a shitty thing to do. It's not his fault he's stuck." Her eyes turned back to him. "We gotta help him." 

"Yeah," Steve said automatically, but he was a little surprised she wasn't more upset. "You still wanna help him? After...?"

"Of course," Robin said, turning wide eyes to Steve. "We have to. Who else is going to?"

She had a point there. There wasn't anybody else who was in a position to help Kas, now or maybe ever, besides the two of them. Three of them. Or… well, six of them if they were counting all the kids, even the ones they hadn't spoken to yet. Sheesh, maybe Kas was right and it was getting out of hand, but... no. It was better this way. The kids were well versed in a lot of stuff, stuff that flew over Steve's head.

If Kas had ended up with one of them, Steve doubted they would've come to him for any help. They'd have been able to figure it out themselves. As it was, this was what Kas had got. One former jock with no prospects. Yay. The absolute best man for the job, right? 

Right.