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Chapter Text

"It's bullshit," Nancy hisses at him. 

Steve froze, and her words washed over him like a sudden rain, "Wh-what? N-Nan...Nancy, what are you-" 

"Bullshit. All of this is bullshit. We're bullshit. You're bullshit."  Nancy slurred her hissed words, her face twisted with fury and grief. 

Steve could've run away right then and there, yet his feet were almost glued to the ground. His palms started to sweat, and yet his whole body felt ice cold. The world seemed to darken around the edges of his vision. And Nancy was just...staring at him, staring at him with drunken, rage filled eyes. 

He turned, and quickly escaped from the bathroom. 

Nancy didn't even try to call for him to come back. 

Steve drove, and drove, and drove. And drove. Past the "Leaving Hawkins" road sign, and onto a random road that seemed to be blurring together with the surrounding environment. He pulled over, and laid his head on the steering wheel. He sobbed, and bawled, and made small squeaking whines, whimpers, and screams. 

Crack. Crack. Crack.

When Steve's tears slowed, and when he pulled his head up, he noticed where he was parked. 

He'd parked in front of a...small local store? The humble sign on the front of the small cottage-like building simply read, in beautiful script, 'Wistful Moons'. It was almost like the building was calling to him. It was starting to be late at night, and yet gentle light came through the window, showing a readable sign that also said in a pretty script 'Open for Business'. Steve slowly got out of the car, and his feet moved him towards the light blue porch and light blue front door. The door opened with a lovely sounding chime, and Steve was hit with a strong scent.

Steve marveled. 

The store was well-lit. Built-in bookshelves were filled to the brim, little tables held soft looking embroidered table covers and stacks of candles, crystals, and all sorts of paraphernalia were organized neatly on top. Strings of lightly colored smoke drew Steve's eyes to something that looked like burnt leaves on a decorated plate.

"Wel- Oh!" A soft voice exclaimed, "Oh my, dear, you look..."

"Like shit?" Steve looked up with a self-deprecating laugh. 

A little old lady stood in front of him, and her hands flew to her hips, "Well, I wouldn't have said it like that, but yes." The little old woman slowly pulled him by the hand to a small chair by what looked like a long kitchen counter. "Sit, sit my dear, and I'll get you a cup of tea, alright?" The old woman said, making Steve sit while she glided to the other side of the counter, and pulled out a large jar that was labelled 'Chamomile and Lavender'. 

"No, no, It's okay, I don't need anyth-" 

"Nonsense!" The woman tutted, pulling out a spoonful and putting it into a cup. "Let me grab the kettle, and then I'll be right back, alright?"

Steve sighed, and nodded. 

Steve sobbed into the old woman's arms, ugly crying yet again as he finished spilling his absolute guts out to this random woman who was strange yet comforting in such a way that he almost couldn't help it. Her hands gently rubbed circles into his back, and she softly murmured. Crack. The woman paused, her attention suddenly diverted. Steve sobbed even harder, barely hearing anything else. Crack. Clink.

The woman gently pulled Steve away from her arms, wiping his stray tears as she got up to fill a different cup with whatever tea remained. Steve felt confused and looked over to his other teacup, and his eyes widened when he saw that it was split apart on the counter top. 

"Oh- I'm sorry...your cup..." Steve hiccupped, starting to reach for the shards. 

The old woman gently smacked his hand away, and put the other cup of tea into his hands, "Think nothing of it, Steve. It...was an old cup anyways." 

When the old woman noticed that Steve was struggling to keep his eyes open, she started to usher him out the shop. She blinked, and let out a soft, "Oh, wait- just a moment, dear," and quickly stepped to the back of her store. She returned shortly after, and put a book into Steve's confused hands, "This is for you, hon."

Steve let out a sound of confusion, and started to pull out his wallet. 

The old woman let out a gasp, "No, absolutely not, this...I think you should have it- free of charge!" 

Steve and the old woman went back and forth for a while, before Steve gave up when she convinced him that it was getting too late to stay so far from home. 

Steve waved a goodbye, and entered his car with a soft sigh, "Stubborn old woman," he snorted. He started his car, and blinked with surprise at the cracks in his windshield and rearview mirror.

Chapter Text

As Steve pulled into his driveway and put his car in park, his eyes started to drift over to the book he was given. The book cover was rather plain, considering the shop where it came from was so...colorfully amazing. Steve pulled the book onto his lap, and trailed over the cover. 

It was a light seafoam green while the edges slowly darkened into a deeper forest green. The cover was soft,; not quite hardcover, but not quite like a paperback cover. Oddly, there were no words indented anywhere on the front or the back. Steve turned it to see the spine, running his fingers over it. There, just slightly, was a small indent in the spine. Steve could hardly make out the words, but as he closed his eyes and ran his fingers over the spine more slowly, the words became clearer to him: 'Of Hearth, Moon, Cards, and More: For the Everyday Eclectic'. Steve hummed to himself, opening his eyes.

"Odd name for a book," he muttered, opening the car door and sliding his way out with the book in tow. 

Steve sat on his bed, suddenly wide awake as he stared at the book. He opened it, let out a soft gasp, and flipped through several pages. The pages were beautifully decorated; gold and silver designs inlaid on the outside edges of the pages, and the words looked to be written by hand in a gentle dark blue ink, only separated by diagrams and designs of different colors and sizes. Steve trailed his fingertips over the page as gently as he could, and read the bigger lettering near the top. 

'Sigils for the Protection of Yourself and Others'. 

Flashes of a petal face coursed through his mind.

It couldn't hurt to read...

Steve reached over to his bedside table, grabbed a small pencil and small notepad, and slowly settled in for the rest whatever was left of the night.

Steve awoke with a start, groaning at the sun rays beaming his face. Papers crinkled underneath him, and pencil markings stained his right and left palms and fingertips. Different styles of sigils were scratched all over the small notebook paper, and at some point he even delved into working more perfect versions of those sigils onto the blank canvases of the backs of his hands and arms. Steve hummed a little to himself as he started to clean up his mess while admiring the work on his arms. 

His head felt fuzzy and his body felt...happy. Like it was thrumming with energy. 

Steve couldn't help stopping to admire the world around him while he walked. The world seemed...brighter...lively. He didn't have any destination in mind, and just let his feet carry him. He stopped and leaned over to look at a small roly-poly that was crawling over his shoe. He put his finger in front of it, and giggled when it crawled onto his finger and landed in his hand. The little thing rolled around in his hand for a second before unraveling and walking around on his palm, tickling him. He let out a soft laugh, and watched with adoration as the roly-poly wiggled its little antennae. The loud sound of a van clunked from behind him, and Steve turned around to see a van slowing next to him, stopping.

The driver's side door opened, and a strikingly pretty face stepped out, followed by equally pretty locks of curly hair. 

Steve's hands twitched with a need. The roly-poly in his hands paused and its little antennae twitched. 

"Uh...Everything alright, Harrington?" The boy, who looked to be around Steve's age or slightly older, asked with a raised eyebrow. "You know you're going to be late for class if you walk, right?"

Steve blinked slowly, and barely held in a squeak when something brushed against his ankle, "Um." 

The boy- man? -huffed, his pretty face turning into a light scowl, and he muttered under his breath before he shoved his hands into leather jacket pockets. 

Steve noticed that his fingers contained pretty rings, and internally cried at the loss of them from his sight. Whatever brushed across his ankle was wrapping itself around it, and started to travel up his leg. Thorns gently poked into his skin. Steve bit into his bottom lip to try and hide his wince. 

"I-" Steve stuttered as the man scoffed and started to turn away, "I know- I just...want to be late today." 

The other man faced Steve, confusion all over his face as his eyes roved over Steve's body. 

Steve couldn't help but flush at the attention, and whatever was crawling up his leg continued its climb. Steve gulped. 

"Whatever you say, Harrington," The man smirked, turning on his heels as he gave a little salute, "See you at school, maybe join us for lunch- if you feel like it!" 

The van drove away, and disappeared from Steve's sight. 

Steve and the roly-poly looked at each other, and Steve gently lifted his jeans to see what exactly was around his leg. 

The single bud of a red rose with white tipped petals happily greeted him. 

Chapter Text

Steve thought he couldn't get anymore irritated than he already was. Billy continuously shoved himself into Steve's space, his larger build practically trapping Steve in an unwilling embrace. Except said embrace was more like a chokehold, preventing him from moving. Steve was even more irritated when no one called Billy out for what felt like an illegal game move. A quick break was called. Steve sighed, but his relief was short lived. 

"Steve." 

Damn it. 

Steve followed Nancy outside the court. 

His blood started to boil. 

"Where were you, Steve? I missed first period!" Nancy complained, her soft eyes looking up at him with hurt, confusion, and a hint of anger. 

His fingers twitched, and his body felt hot.

Steve watched Nancy walk away, his irritation finally turning into a simmering rage. Everyone else in the gym swayed, and the coach stumbled as he started to look alarmed. 

"Hey," Tommy said, starting to sound faint, "Is it," Tommy liked his lips as his body started to shiver despite all the sweat falling from his skin. An odd, excessive amount of sweat, actually. Everyone was sweating profusely, Steve noticed with a startle, his anger starting to cool in surprise. "Is it hot in here or is it just...me..." Tommy mumbled, his head suddenly rolling as he collapsed, along with a couple of other students; dropping like flies on a hot, sweaty summer day.

Surprisingly, it wasn't the coach who moved first, it was Billy. 

"Open the doors and windows!" He barked, "Get some cool air- some fans, anything! Harrington!" Steve snapped to attention, "Get some teachers, maybe an ambulance if you can" Billy turned to the coach, who still hasn't moved, "Hey! Bring over a water cooler!" 

Steve ran out the gym, cold settling into his skin as his mind went a thousand miles an hour, Billy barking out orders echoing behind him.

One ambulance arrival and departure later, and classes were canceled for the rest of the day. 

Steve stared at all the students as they all started to leave the school building. They all muttered and gossiped among themselves, and Steve didn't even have to try to overhear. 

"Wow," one student remarked conspiratorially to her friend, "To think the school was so cheap that they didn't even fix the AC!" Her friend giggled with her, "I know, right?! Like-" 

Steve tuned them out, and shivered a little as he started to think about what had happened. Slowly, his mind started to come up with this absolutely batshit insane-

"Hey- Harrington?" A hand slapped on his shoulder, startling Steve out of his thoughts. The...man??? from the morning leaned into Steve's personal space, all crooked grins and frizzy hair. "Hey!! Harrington!" 

"Hey...." Steve pursed his lips, a flush rising up his neck and face. Crap...

The other man's grin widened, and he let out a loud, obnoxiously cute laugh. "You don't know my name, do you Harrington?" 

"Psh...nah...I totally do..." Steve squinted, and fell into a quick silence, "...." 

"This is amazing-"

Steve scrunched his nose, "No- wait, really-" 

"Oh, really? You do, huh?" The man tilted back and forth dramatically, waving a hand around, "Well then, Harrington! What is my name?"

Steve hummed, tilting his head. A familiar feeling dwelled up from his chest. Steve could almost see it reaching out and curling around the man's leather-bound shoulders. 

"Eddie." 

The man- Eddie's -eyes widened. 

Steve stared at the book. His mind went into overdrive. Night was starting to fall, and Steve's mind was finally made up. 

He opened the book, and carefully started from the first page. 'Property of A--li-' Was the only thing written on the page, aside from various designs and doodles in matte ink. Steve flipped to the next page. 'Scrying for Dummies--' Steve flipped again. 'Using the Moon and its Light for--' 'Scrying for Dummies 2.0--' 'How to create your own sigils--' 'Using Cards--' 'Incantations for Dummies--' 'How to create your own incantations--' 'Sigils for Protection---' Steve momentarily paused his skimming at the familiar page, but continued thumbing through the pages. 'Herbs for Dummies--' 'Herbs for dummies 2.0--' 'Making your own herbal remedies--' and on, and on, and on. 

"How can someone be so organized yet disorganized at the same time?" Steve giggled to himself while going through the pages, smiling softly as one of his hands stroked the book's spine. 

Moonlight slowly streamed into his bedroom, and Steve breathed in slowly. His skin felt like it was sparking as light caressed him. He slowly breathed out. 

He felt invigorated. 

Steve could already tell he was going to be late again, given that sunlight was beaming him in the face yet again. But, he couldn't bring himself to care. Papers crumpled underneath him as he shifted, "I could get used to this," Steve hummed to himself, his mind somehow enjoying the sound of the paper. 

"CAW!" 

Steve jumped, falling to the floor as his window screamed at him, "OW- Fuck! What-!"

A little crow tapped on his window, hopping in place, "caw!" it croaked. 

Steve stared, "This...couldn't get any weirder, could it?" 

A butterfly landed on the crow. And another one. And another one. 

A small garden snake slithered up the crow's leg. 

"...I spoke too soon."

Chapter Text

Steve...struggled to walk to school, this time. Dodging every mammal, insect, and/or reptile that came into sight tended to inhibit speed and mobility. 

He groaned as he ducked, again, from a random bird- again. Snakes and small insects continuously crept onto the sidewalk and road, making Steve feel like he was doing the weirdest version of jumping over hurdles. He tried to gently swat and blow away any stray flying creatures that came close to his face. And yet, Steve couldn't find it in himself to stop giggling and smiling like some sappy idiot. Truthfully, he felt kind of overjoyed, and it felt like his insides were buzzing lowly. 

The sound of a familiar van came from behind him, followed by the sound of it being put in park, a door opening, and an amused laugh, "Having trouble with the local wildlife, Harrington?" Eddie laughed, obviously finding Steve's predicament hilarious. 

He groaned, swatting away another insect. "C'mon, man," Steve whined, "Gimme a break!" 

"Hmm...no!" Eddie's voice hummed with barely hidden laughter. 

Steve huffed, but it seems that with Eddie's arrival, the animals backed off. Steve didn't know what that meant. He flushed anyways when his attention was now fully on Eddie. His chest felt like it was fluttering. If he concentrated hard enough, he could almost feel like some part of him was reaching out for Eddie. Wrapping itself around his shoulders. Trying to sink into him. Steve took a small step back, and the feeling dissipated. However, that left Steve looking at Eddie's face- who had looked a bit hurt at the fact that Steve had retreated from him, even if it was only by an inch or so. 

Eddie took a small step back, shoving his hands into his pockets while his shoulders started to hike up to his ears. 

Steve felt a harsh pang spike in his stomach. Screw it. He took three steps forwards, staring into Eddie's pretty eyes. "Hi Eddie."

Eddie smirked, a mischievous little grin, and reached a heavily ringed hand out. It brushed against Steve's hair, but he didn't move. "You got a little somethin' there, Harrington," Eddie drawled, gently pushing his fingers through strands of Steve's hair, before just as gently withdrawing his hand. His palm was half-opened, showing Steve a sneaky little butterfly that fluttered its wings with what could only be assumed to be irritation.

Something was happening, Steve just didn't know what. And it was driving him insane. It felt like his body was going haywire. The hair on his arms and the back of his neck stood straight on end. His thoughts swirled, but then settled on the book. 

"Maybe..." Just maybe...

He leapt onto his bed, pulling out the book, as well as his notebook and pencil. He thumbed through the pages, searching. Writing. Memorizing. Wash, rinse, repeat. 

Daybreak came through his window, again. A soft ruffling sound made Steve stir. He opened his eyes and gawked. A butterfly stood on the tip of his nose, its wings opening and closing as it jittered from its perch. 

"Uhhh...hi?"

The butterfly fluttered, little legs tapping across his cheek as it crawled closer to his eye. 

Steve slowly put a finger under the butterfly, careful of his eye, and tried to coax the insect onto his finger. Luckily, the butterfly had no qualms about being moved so he could sit up. 

Something felt like it was trying to curl around him. Steve's gaze sharpened. "What is it?" He asked softly, bringing the butterfly up, its light blue wings seeming lighter in the sun's rays. The butterfly gently lifted off his finger, and flew out his bedroom window. It paused, and hovered in the air. Waiting. 

Steve threw on his clothes from yesterday, and opened his window more so he could squeeze himself through it. The butterfly flew away when he approached, and landed some distance away, on the grass. He followed, and knelt down when the butterfly didn't move. A garden snake slithered into view, and peeked its head up at him. Steve reached his hand out, and the garden snake slithered into it, wrapping around his wrist. 

The same feeling came again, but this time it felt more clear, more urgent. Steve brought the snake close to his face, and closed his eyes. 

Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out.

Steve muttered curses under his breath as he wandered Hawkins, trying to figure out how to find Will.

Even though they didn't talk after Will was found, he couldn't help feeling protective of him, and of the rest of the kids, after all-

A large, grotesque body. Growls and warbling. Petal face opening wide; sharp little hooked teeth, bloodied saliva dripping and spraying as it roared. It lunged-

Steve shook his head harshly, and found himself heading towards Nancy's house. 

The sound of a relieved squeak came from his side, and Steve turned. Dustin. 

"Steve! Hey, do you still have that bat of yours?" Dustin asked sharply, his voice laced with panic. 

Steve's stomach curled and rebelled, his body going cold as his fears were confirmed. Dustin shivered, looking around with confusion.

There was no breeze.

"It ate your cat?!" Steve yelped, wanting to grab Dustin and shake him, "Are you kidding me? Dustin?!" Steve hissed, restraining himself from grabbing Dustin by the shoulder with a bloody pink gloved hand. He's still here, he's safe, he's okay. 

Dustin squirmed, pouting. "I thought it was a new species at first! I didn't know it was a baby demogorgon!" Dustin tried to reason, gesturing with his hands. 

"Nope, nuh uh," Steve huffed as he crossed his arms, "No excuse. And what did your friends have to say about that, anyways?" Steve questioned, throwing down another piece of meat. 

"..." 

Dustin looked at the ground, and an adorable little baby scowl crawled across his face. Dustin huffed, turning his nose up as the silence persisted. Steve chuckled.

"Steve?" Dustin glanced up, and Steve hummed, "You got..." Dusting gestured to his own hair.

Steve grimaced, and sighed. Soft legs pat across his forehead before crawling onto his nose and stilling, only flying off- thoroughly scolded -when Steve tried to blow air on it.

"Dude," Dustin choked, blinking rapidly as his mouth made little sounds of nonsense, "What the fuck?"

Steve tutted, waving a finger as he threw another chunk of meat, "Language! Jesus, kid, you're...like...10!"

Dustin stuck his tongue out.

Chapter Text

'Incantations--

Incantations are difficult, especially when you are just beginning. They don't particularly follow any rules- they can be long or short, they can be carefully worded or spontaneously thrown together in the heat of a moment. Often times, incantations work better when paired with something like sigils or any physical item. However, that doesn't necessarily mean that incantations need anything to be powerful. Sometimes all they need is a strong enough emotion. Sometimes, something as simple as your own blood, or even just the combined energy of yourself and someone else is all incantations need in order to be as powerful as possible. 

The Basics: Sometimes, it's simpler to start out with the help of sigils and items while you are trying out incantations for your first time. To start, while you are trying to figure out how incantations work for you, sometimes simple phrases can-'

Steve twisted the bat in his hands as he maintained eye contact with the demogorgon dog things. The cries of the kids from the bus made him flinch, he didn't want to frighten them, but he had to do this. For them... For them, Steve would do- no, could do anything necessary. A feeling surged through him, and the demogorgon dogs stilled. Steve muttered under his breath, repeating himself over and over while the bat twisted in his hands. He stared at the demogorgon dogs, and it felt like the world around him was starting to shift. 

The dog-like monsters warbled and whimpered, then went silent. 

Rage and another feeling boiled up his stomach, and up his throat. His mutterings turned into almost growling hisses, repeating over and over. His hands clenched harder and harder onto the bat's handle, and he felt something start to drip down his palm. The bat in his hands felt like it was getting warmer.

The monsters suddenly ran off, disappearing beyond the trees.

"Oh my god, Steve!" Dustin and all the other kids- safe, thank god, safe -scrambled out of the bus they'd been hiding in. They all clamored around him, even trying to grapple for any purchase on his clothing. "Steve! That- You scared them off!" Dustin squeaked, happily hanging onto part of Steve's arms while Lucas and Max quietly gripped onto parts of his sleeves and pants. Steve softened, and pulled them all into a protective hug, squeezing them tightly to him despite their half-hearted protests and growling.

They're trembling...

Between his feet, Steve could feel something start to curl around his ankles. 

'Animals for--

Sometimes, for certain people, animals can be some of the most useful and intuitive uses a -it-- can have. If an animal, or animals, decide that you are worth the help, take it! Animals that might try to help can fall to something as small as a ladybug to as big as a horse! However, for certain types of people, or for certain types of -it--e-, animals can be even more helpful. Some might consider it a sort of bond between one and nature's creatures. While these bonds can't exactly be forced into being, they aren't necessarily created on purpose either. 

These kinds of bonds often depend on-'

While everyone made plans for what to do with Will, the demodogs, the Mindpainer or whatever it was called, Steve was keeping a careful eye on all the kids. Night was starting to fall, and Steve couldn't help but feel. No one was looking at him, all to caught up in planning and chatting and- in Mike and the other random girl 2.0's case (El, he was told earlier) -hugging tightly and not-quite-crying in each others arms. A sound cam from outside, and it felt like something brushed against Steve's arms and legs. 

With another quick glance, Steve slipped out the front door. 

An owl whooshed over his head, wings beating as it landed when Steve reached an arm out for it to use as a perch. It's face reminded Steve of an apple that got cut in half, pale white with a dark rim in an almost heart shape. The owl's body was almost entirely white, except for a few certain spots and it wings, which were a darker, reddish brown speckled blanket of feathers. The owl leaned its face close, beak snapping lightly together as it shifted on his arm, its long and sharp claws dug into his arm but Steve didn't really care. 

The owl made a light, slightly grating, sound. Impatient. 

Steve huffed, and leaned close, "What is it?"

Curling around Steve's shoulders was a feeling of urgency; dark and corrupted, stinging and slimy. Panic welled up in his body. Run, his body screamed at him, Run- Fly- Flee- Pain-

Through the owl's eyes, Steve saw-

The demodogs attacked, popping out of large holes that seemed to be part of a black void, their large petal faces opening with loud and hungry growls, attaching themselves onto the others of the forest, ripping and tearing up and devouring foxes and deer and his fellow owls; his siblings, and one leapt for him and it hurt and-

Steve let out a choked sound, hunching over himself as his bit his lips to hide the scream that tried to escape from his throat. The owl chirped with worry, hopping off his arm when he fell to his knees on the ground. He gasped, breathing heavily as his mind got overwhelmed. Wind started to swirl around his knees, and the windows of the house behind him started to shake. 

The little owl hooted in alarm, hopping around Steve as it flapped its wings. Sorry, Steve felt as the owl chirruped, breathing in through his nose while his heart pounded, Sorry. The owl wobbled as the wind started to throw it off balance.

Crack.

From the inside of the house, Steve could sort of hear the sound of confusion and bubbling panic over the thrumming in his ears. Crack. 

Crack. Crack. Crackcrackcrackcrack-

Something shattered, and Steve froze when he heard screams of shock, and someone yelping in pain.

Steve froze, and everything building up inside him smothered itself.

Chapter Text

Steve's attention shot to the house, eyes wide as he fully registered what just happened. He stumbled to his feet, wincing at the sight of glass spattered all over the ground. Sounds of murmuring came from the building, as well as the soft sound of crying, and of someone making shushing cooing. Steve started to reach for the door handle, but hesitated. Instead, Steve leant over to the busted window, peeking through the space to see the people inside. 

Everyone was slightly pale, and Joyce was kneeled over making shushing noises to Mike. Mike, who was leaning over himself, showing his bloody bare back to Joyce, wincing and twitching as she took out irregular shards of window glass from where it had imbedded into his skin. Steve covered his mouth and dread clenched his heart in an unforgiving grasp. He pulled away, leaning himself on the house's old wood. 

His hands shook. His body shook. 

The owl slowly hobbled over, walking slowly, and nuzzled its head on his leg while it softly cooed. Steve picked it up, ad carefully pulled into his arms. 

"Where's Steve?" Nancy's voice came through, wavering slightly. 

Steve winced, curling into the owl as everyone else also seemed to notice his disappearance. 

"Steve?! Steve?!!" 

Everyone called out, starting to panic when Steve didn't answer.

"Steve!"

Steve whimpered, freezing when the voices inside paused. Heavy footsteps quickly pattered across the floor, towards the door- towards him. Steve clenched the owl close, and ran, ignoring the sound of the door slamming open and Chief Hopper calling out in surprise, "Shit- Steve?!"

The forest welcomed Steve with open arms, and yet not even the forest could stop the wrongness of the Upside Down from seeping through. Steve moved carefully, trusting to be guided correctly. A gentle breeze rustled through tree leaves, brushing through his hair and ruffling the owl's feathers. 

Steve giggled when the owl hooted in annoyance, puffing up a little as it readjusted in his arms. 

The owl froze as Steve approached a farm, and wiggled like a fish out of water. 

Fear, Steve felt, heart growing heavy as he started to realize where exactly he was led, fear was starting to curl around him, seeping in through his pores and out his mouth. He let the owl go, whispering softly when the owl landed a ways away from him, "I don't blame you...it's okay." The owl cooed at him, wings flapping. It did not move from its new spot. Steve knew that it would stay with him, until he finished. 

Steve didn't have to dig much. The tunnel entrance opened easily for him, void staring back at him. Steve leapt in, carried by intuition and hazed movement. 

"Ugh-" Steve gagged, hit by a feeling of nausea. He keened, wobbling unsteadily. Growls came from around him, creeping up from all around him. Steve growled right back, eyes clearing just enough for him.

"Let's go then." Steve hissed, pulling out a small switchblade, and ran it over his palm, clenching it into a fist.

'The Many uses of Blood--

Many fellow -i---es might disparage me on this, but using blood for any of your work can be incredibly powerful, and incredibly useful. Sometimes, when strong emotions just aren't enough, or if you think that your work just needs more oomph than things like sigils and items can provide, than using something like blood- yours or anyone else's, even animals! -can be the strong fix for strong works. Some might try to say that the use of blood for any kind of work is 'bad', 'wrong', or even 'evil' just don't fully understand the complexities of acting like things are just 'black and white'. Nothing is black and white. Nothing. 

Bloodwork is usually straightforward, and can be easy to use. 

Most of the time, all you really need in order to use blood in your workings is to simply bleed on it. However, that doesn't mean that you can't get creative with how you want to use blood in your workings. Make sigils out of blood! Say incantations while doing whatever you're trying to do! 

However, there can be a danger when using your own blood for your work. Using your own blood for a powerful work can be--'

The demodogs around Steve crept closer and closer, their petal faces wiggling as they growled and circled him like sharks. Steve brought his bleeding hand to his mouth. His palm grazed against his lips as he muttered. Closer...closer...

The demodogs lunged, hissing and growling as their petal faces opened wide. 

Steve smirked, and when a demodog knocked him onto his back, he grappled onto it. Bloody fingers painting the bright yellow stripe on its body. 

Steve kept muttering, smiling through bloody teeth and iron-tainted tongue.

Chapter Text

'--depending on the amount of blood you use, you can become very fatigued very quickly. Sadly, the amount of blood that is being used isn't always the most dangerous part of including it in your work. If what you are working with is incredibly powerful, then even the smallest amount of blood being used can be more than you bargain for.

Using too much blood too fast can make you pass out before you even finish your work, which can be incredibly harmful to your wellbeing. At least, for a little while. After all, your blood will eventually replenish...as long as you're being careful about the amounts you are using.--'

Steve woke up slowly, grumbling and swatting at whatever was prodding and shaking him. 

"..ve? ....eve!! ...teve?! Steve!" 

Little hands shook him harder, and someone stuck a wet finger in his ear-

He squeaked loudly, making all the children- KIDS?!?! -jump away from him while he put a finger in his ear. "Did...Did you just wet willy me?" Steve asked, stupefied and disgusted, "Wait...why are you guys here?!" Steve's voice pitched higher with alarm as he head counted. Every kid save for Will and El was here. In the damn tunnels.

"Why are you here, Steve?" Mike and Dustin shot back, and all the kids crossed their arms- practically in unison. Even Max was in tune to the rest of the group, despite the relatively short amount of time she actually spent with them. Do they...like...share a brain cell?!

The kids kept staring at him. 

"Uh."

Nice one.

Immediately, everyone talked over each other, and Steve flinched a little when they all made jarring and exaggerated hand movements. Gesturing from him, to the tunnels all around them, to the demodogs that were huddled in the corner, frightened and unmoving. 

Parts of what they were saying caught: "Why are they like that?!" "Steve-" "-What did you do???" "Are you okay?!" "Are you bleeding?!"

Dustin was rambling too; "Since El is going to close the gate and since Ms. Byers and Johnathan are going to get the mindflayer out of Will, we, as the remaining party, decided to help out by attacking the hive mind from another front as well!"

Steve's eyes widened, and he pulled himself off the ground, wincing when the world spun. "N-No, nuh uh! No way! What the hell- kids!!!" He sputtered, slipping onto one knee with a hiss. The world was starting to darken at the edges of his vision. Dustin and Mike grabbed him as much as they could, trying to hold him up with their small selves. Steve's chest fluttered, warmth spilling through his body as he stared at the kids, feeling half delirious and half hysterical. 

"Too bad, Steve," Dustin snickered, his hands reaching through Steve's pockets and pulling out his lighter, "We are going to set fire to this place, and you..."

"You kind of can't stop us." Mike snarked with a smirk.

Lucas and Max giggled. 

"Yeah, yeah," Steve muttered, eyelids fluttering as he swayed, "laugh all ya' want...lil' shits..."

"Hey!! Hey!! Don't fall asleep, Steve! We're going to have to run once fire starts!!!" Dustin quipped, smacking Steve on the cheek.

He grumbled, "I got it, I got it, I won't."

Fire started, flying up and around the tunnel's vines, and they all booked for the exit. 

Steve decided he was going to ignore Max and Lucas' manic grins of pyromania as he was pushed, rather harshly, might he add, into a car? that wasn't his. His head lolled over, and he let out a soft snort when he heard a fading, "And don't think we forgot about you being in the tunnels before us!"

Giggling sounded around him, and something was dragging across his face. Steve groaned, and rolled over as he pat at his face gently. Sleepily wondering what animal was crawling over his face this time. He muttered, trying to communicate with whatever animal was on him, trying to open his eyes. Blurred faces surrounded him, and gasped loudly while reeling back. 

Steve paused, eyes focusing. The kids stared at him, jaws dropped. "What? What is it?"

The kids glanced at each other, sharing looks of varying confusion. Steve smiled when several noses scrunched up with thought. 

"N-nothing. We must just be tired," Lucas spoke first, and the rest of the kids followed his lead with nods and little sounds of affirmation.

Steve narrowed his eyes-

The door burst open, and Chief Hopper came in with El, sleeping in his arms. "Off the couch, Harrington," Hopper's gruff voice said in the silence, and Steve couldn't move out of the way fast enough.

Whatever moment happened before the chief came through the door was forgotten.

Chapter Text

Steve and everyone watched as Chief Hopper gently lay El on the couch. Joyce, Johnathan, and Nancy came just behind him, Will following close behind his mother. Both small children were pale and shaky, and Steve's heart wanted to reach out and pull them into his arms. The adults softly spoke amongst each other, and the children crowded around Will and El, taking way too fast for Steve to follow. Nancy stood next to him, gently bumping her shoulder against Steve's. 

"Hey...you okay?" She asked, tilting her head and peeking at him. 

He stiffened, and looked between her and Johnathan. In turn, Nancy hesitated and let out a soft puff of air. 

A soft feeling swirled in the air. Steve could feel who the little wisps were reaching for. Soft, passing touches of guilt stroked his face. He looked at Nancy, and grabbed her hand. "It's...okay. It's okay."

Nancy stared, her emotions written all over her face. She took a step away, and went towards Johnathan with a quiet "thank you". Steve smiled, waving a little bit as she kept walking. 

It was only when he was sure no one was looking at him did he let his smile slip. 

With everyone safe, Steve took to watching over El while she slept on the couch. His hand clutched hers, and he kept trying to think of a way to help her. The only thing he could really think of was...He reached his free hand up to look at it. The cut was already starting to crust over, pink and swollen and tender. He curled his fingers, brushing fingertips over the still healing cut. He breathed in deeply, and jut his nails into his palm, and scraped at the thin scab. Almost immediately, blood welled up in his palm. 

Now, there were a couple of ways he could do this next part. He could draw some sort of sigil on her, but that would mean putting blood on El. Steve's nose scrunched at the very thought. Or...

Or.

Steve gave a quick glance over his shoulder. Everyone was still talking to each other, not really looking his way. 

With his other hand still holding El's, Steve brought his newly bleeding palm up to his mouth. Licking up the dripping blood. Iron coated his tongue, and Steve leaned his body closer. He muttered, over and over, ignoring the growing feeling of fatigue that was starting to sink into his body.

He only stopped when the hand clutching his started to twitch. 

"Steve?" Came a soft voice from behind him, and he froze. Turning slowly, his eyes widened when he realized he was being watched.

Everyone was looking at him.

"Steve, what are you doing?" Hopper asked, his eyebrows furrowed in a very fatherly way. 

"N-Nothing!" Steve croaked, wincing when Dustin and everyone paled for whatever reason.

"Steve! Are you bleeding?!" Dustin squealed, rushing into Steve's space and grabbing his face, "Are you internally bleeding right now?!" 

"What?" 

Nancy stepped forwards too, worry on her face, "Steve, blood is...your mouth..."

He just noticed the telltale drip of blood down the side of his lip, and rushed up to wipe it off. "No, no, I'm not! This is...just..." Steve trailed off.

"Your hand!" Dustin yelped, grabbing Steve's hand roughly, "It's bleeding again!"

"Again?" Joyce asked, bringing out a first aid kit from...somewhere. 

The kids' chatter ceased, and they looked at Steve. "Um."

Summer came quickly, and Steve found himself working at the new mall, slinging ice cream scopes in what felt like the dumbest work outfit. His new coworker, Robin, complained yet again as she tried to pull down her shorts from where they had rode up- again, "I just don't understand why you get better shorts than me!" She huffed, and muttered under her breath, but not quiet enough, "And I'm tired of creepy men staring at me."

Steve paused, a feeling welling up in his chest. 

"Switch with me."

Robin's head shot to stare at him, "What?" 

"You heard me," Steve crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows, "Switch with me."

Robin's jaw dropped, "O-oh...thanks."

Steve huffed, pulling down shorts that kept ridding up his legs. Again. From his side, Robin snorted, "Now you understand my pain."

"I'll never doubt you again."

She grinned, lifting her head up, "That's right! You better not!"

Steve did not squeak when someone laughed in his ear, "What's this, Harrington, working at the mall with the rest of us common folk?" 

Ringed hands clicked on the counter, and brown eyes roved over Steve's outfit. Steve flushed, and from the corner of his eye he saw Robin get wide eyed. 

"E-Eddie- well, you know-" 

"What d'ya' recommend, Harrington?" Eddie purred as he leaned on the counter, into Steve's space. 

Steve just let out a helpless croaking sound, and wordlessly moved his mouth. 

The air felt like it was sparking. Something pulled at his chest.

"I- I'm- I'm going on break!" Steve managed to gasp out, before running past Robin to the back. Amused chuckled ringing in his ears.

Chapter Text

'The Dangers of--

Emotions can be a very dangerous things for people like us; Especially strong ones. For most w--c-es, but mostly the newer ones, Strong emotions can react with the environment in ways that are dangerous to themselves or to anyone who happens to be close to them. The stronger the emotion, the stronger the reaction, the greater the danger. 

As wi----s get more comfortable with themselves, and get used to doing more works that let out their excess energy, the more control they can have on how they affect their environments. 

Sadly, for new -it--es, they often learn of their abilities the hard way. What can start off as small incidents will often lead up to the eventual injury of themselves or others- usually someone else, who happened to be close by at the wrong time. Usually family members, close friends, or significant others. 

However, for most new wit-hes, older and/or more experienced w-tch-s who might be nearby will try all they can to get close and help the new wi-ch before such dangerous incidents can happen--'

Steve gulped from his place, locked into seating position on a dumb chair with Robin behind him. Panic welled up in him, and he clenched his eyes shut while leaning over as much as his binds would let him. "No, no," he muttered, trying to break against the immense pressure building up inside him, "Not here, not here..."

From behind him, the warmth of Robin's back straightened against him, "Steve? Are you okay?" She paused, seeming to get more intense when Steve didn't respond, "Steve?!"

The crazy Russians entered the room, looming menacingly with a large syringe in hand. 

Crack.

Ambulance sirens and lights circled all around him. Steve shivered, and pulled his shock blanket closer. A dark, hot and cruel feeling was sunk into him like he swallowed a rock. Curling around him in a mocking hold. Sinking sharp teeth and sharp claws into him. Several doctors and emergency people worked on him; checking his eyes, his arms, his legs, everything. Questions flew by, and Steve always muttered some response of whatever he heard, not that he could really remember any of it. 

He flinched when something entered from his side- Crack! -and the feeling calmed when it was just the arm of Robin, curling around him protectively. Not that Steve knew when exactly she managed to make her way to his side, or was she there the whole time?

Someone medical leaned over, and Steve heard a soft, "Was that always broken?" before they moved away. 

Robin stared at him, and pulled him a bit closer.

Vaguely, something else had- crack.

Billy's screams echoed in his mind, and Steve couldn't look away as he tried his best to hide the view from Robin, and from whoever else was in his vicinity- the kids were- Max was-

Crack. 

Released for 'minor damage' and with an armful of prescriptions with armlength instructions, Steve entered his house, dumped all that shit on the kitchen counters, and promptly went back outside. Just for some fresh air.

Just for. Some fresh air. 

Noticeably, for a reason Steve couldn't put his finger on, no animals were came near him at all this time. 

That dark feeling curled on him again, pressing down, down, down. His mind raced, flashes imprinting themselves to the forefront. Steve's lips pursed, and his heart started to speed up. His speed increased, his body started to sweat, and his hands and fingers twitched incessantly. 

Steve's feet led him to the trailer park, and by then his mind already felt like it was halfway gone. His breaths came out in heavy pants, his vision had moments where everything became cloudy then clear, and he stumbled a few times over tiny pebbles and over his own feet. 

The forest was silent, as if holding its breath.

Steve stumbled again, and fell to his knees. The sound of a door opening and a spot of light shone on him, but he couldn't care any less than he currently did. Someone cursed, and Steve could feel something try to reach for him, tapping his arms and shoulders before disappearing, then reappearing. Someone called his name, shaking him. He felt wind whirling around him, brushing against his skin and pushing everything away. His eyes stung and burned, and he curled into himself. The sound of trailer windows- crack, crack, crack, crack, clink -shattering. Someone cursed, again, and more hands gripped him again. 

A desperate feeling spilled from him, and he let out a silent cry. His mouth letting out gasps and trying to suck in air. 

Someone yelped and hissed, and something hot and wet dripped on him. 

The feeling pushed, and whoever was holding onto Steve gasped and disappeared, followed by a loud thump. 

"...ayne!! ...over here! Need..."

Soft muttering. A touch. 

Everything stopped.

Steve's eyes closed, and arms wrapped around him.

"We've got you, Harrington, everything's going to be okay now, I promise."

Chapter Text

Warmth enveloped Steve, and he nuzzled into it. The feeling settled in his skin, calm and soothing like cool water on a summer day. Blearily, Steve mumbled as he slowly realized that, on several parts of his body, little feet paced up and down and in circles. He leaned his head up, seeing the small bodies of several insects and- 

Steve squeaked with alarm at the sight of a giant deer on his side, its head on his stomach as it slept.

And everything came alive.

Steve sputtered as butterflies, bees, and miscellaneous creatures smacked into his face, along with several animal calls.

Amused laughter made everything stop, and all eyes loomed over Steve's shoulder. 

Curly hair bounced while shoulders shook. Eddie tried to smother his laughter with his hand, but was pretty much failing spectacularly. "You alright there, Harrington?" Eddie smoothed his hands over his hair, smiling when a gecko crawled up his ringed fingers, "You had a spectacular emotional blowout," he mused, watching the gecko crawl over his hand, "You got lucky, newbie."

"Lucky?" Steve asked, shifting as much as the animals covering him would let him. "Newbie?"

Eddie's eyebrows furrowed, and his lips quirked in a bit of a tilt, "Yeah? I dunno what happened to get you in such an emotionally charged state, but I'm going to assume it has something to do with whatever the hell happened here?" Eddie gestured to his own face, "Though, I must admit, I don't think I've ever seen so many animals chose one witchling before." 

Steve paled, "W-witchling?" He made himself laugh, wincing at the high pitch he let out, "N-no!"

"Tell it to someone else, Stevie," Eddie huffed, eyebrows raised, "Me an' Wayne were the ones who helped your little...burst get under control."

Steve grunted, lifting himself into sitting position, "What...did happen?"

Eddie glided over, and sat next to him after shooing away wildlife.

Eddie and Wayne were just sitting, watching TV, when he felt something practically yank him to the floor. Wayne let out a soft curse when he was also pulled at. Loud emotions started to seep from outside, an overwhelming feeling of panic, of fear. A gecko crawled in from the open window, and Eddie grabbed for it.

"What is it?" Wayne asked seriously, pulling Eddie up. The other window, the one that wasn't open, started to crack. Wind started to whirl, pushing against the trailer and picking up dust and dirt.

"Outside," he gasped, "We need to-" Eddie ran, leaving Wayne behind. 

Eddie let out a sound at the sight. Steve, whimpering and crying almost silently, curled into himself on the ground. Steve's emotions were going haywire, seeping out of him and reacting with his environment. To Eddie, it felt as if Steve's emotions were clawing and tearing and biting at anything that came close. 

"Wayne!" Eddie yelped, "Wayne, come here! It's Harrington!" Wayne cursed, joining Eddie's side, "I thought you said that he wasn't in it-in it yet!" Wayne scolded. 

"Evidently not!" Eddie hissed, squinting his eyes as dirt flung up, "We need...the thing!" Eddie grit out, and Wayne moved quickly, running back inside the trailer for only a few seconds, only returning with herbs in hand as he watched Eddie try to get closer.

Eddie could only get as close as placing a hand, then trying to move Steve, before he got thrown off. Eddie cursed as he landed. An angry bunch of thistles sprouted out of the ground, wrapping around Eddie's ankles in stinging retribution. He yelped, and Wayne cursed as he went to Eddie's side, wincing as he yanked off the thistles, and pulled Eddie up. 

"Jesus H. Christ!" Eddie hissed, eyes wide, "This burst is worse than anything I've ever seen!" 

Wayne huffed his agreement, crushing several bits of lavender and chamomile, mixing them with a bit of broken honeycomb. 

Wayne and Eddie jumped back in, reaching for Steve. Wayne muttered, gently rubbing the mixture over Steve, and Eddie followed suit; muttering with him. Steve stilled, and so did his burst- dying slowly, calming like a previously enraged beast. Steve started to relax, and his eyes fluttered closed, and his head ended up leaned on Eddie's chest.

Eddie started to hum, something sweet like honey passing over his lips as he started to lightly sing the muttered words.

Steve stared, eyes wide, as Eddie finished. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, wanting to curl into himself. His animals wiggled around him, leaning and trying to get as close as they possibly could. Comforting him. Eddie sighed, "It's not really your fault," he said, reaching an arm around Steve's shoulders, "And your animals will be happy to remind you, too." Eddie chuckled lightly. 

He started to hum, and Steve leaned into him. The animals around them settled, leaning in and letting out soft huffs- or, in the insects case, fluttering any winged body part or antennae -and falling back asleep. Steve let out a soft sound, and started to fall to sleep yet again.

'The powerful but hard to master: Music in--

Music can be extremely hard for a wi-ch to master for their works. However, if you are lucky enough, mastery of music can be like a small power boost. Depending on the mastery, and if a wit-h is skilled enough, music and musical instruments can even become all a witc- needs.

Surprisingly, similar to blood, music for your works can be all a witch really needs--'

Chapter Text

Steve grumbled at the feeling of someone gently moving his shoulder and arm. He swat at it, receiving a snort in return and an even greater effort on wiggling him back and forth.

“What?!” Steve snapped, jolting up. In his peripheral, a butterfly dangling on a piece of his hair fluttered it's wings and wiggled it's antennae in an imitation of his anger. The other animals that were with him before were noticeably missing. 

Eddie's face stared back, an eyebrow raised.

Steve felt his face grow hot, “Shit.” 

Eddie laughed loudly at that, “get up, Harrington, you can't stay on my bed forever you know,” Eddie paused, dark eyes roving over Steve's form, “unless you want to.” 

Steve jumped up, ignoring a warm swirling in his gut and the way that Eddie's face seemed to fall for a moment before settling back in an easy grin. 

Something in Steve's chest twisted, and at the same time, slowly reached it's invisible fingers towards Eddie's form before retreating suddenly. Steve jolted, a pain he hasn't felt before shocking through his limbs and up his spine, stealing his breath like a punch to the gut. 

Eddie's eyes widened, and he pointed, “I knew it!” He cried.

“Knew- what?” Steve blinked.

Eddie grabbed Steve's hand and pulled them out of the small bedroom.

“WAYNE!” Eddie yelled loudly, making Steve wince and the butterfly in his hair retreat further up.

An older man sitting on the small, well-loved couch sighed, but said nothing, only giving Eddie a look. 

“I was right,” Eddie said again, a bit softer this time, “He does do it.” 

Wayne frowned at that and looked at Steve.

“W-what?” Steve grumbled, snatching his hand back after he realized that he and Eddie hadn't let each other go. Wayne stayed silent, and stared as if he could look right into Steve's soul.

At Wayne's silence, that same feeling inside Steve curled again and went towards the couch– only to give Steve another painful shock. This time, he tried to take a step back only to be stopped by the feeling of a broad chest against his back.

Wayne tutted, “you always try to reach like that, kid?” He scolded as he started to stand, “shit like that ain't for someone as new as you to be doing.” 

There was a puff of huffed, laughing, air at the shell of Steve's ear. The butterfly in his hair immediately flew, making the person behind him yelp and sputter. 

The warmth at his back faded, and Eddie quickly went around him to stand next to Wayne, a butterfly flapping angrily in his face before it returned back to Steve's hair. 

“....” Steve glanced down, subconsciously reaching up to a strand of hair. The butterfly quickly appeared on his finger. 

Wayne sauntered over to the small but adorable kitchen in the trailer, and Steve noticed how the kitchen was decorated to the nines with both herbs and mugs.

“We made something for you while you were sleeping,” Wayne said calmly as he grabbed a small plate and cup to pass it over to Steve, who was made to sit on the couch by surprisingly strong hands, “you may feel calm now, but the kind of burst you had…better to be safe than sorry.” 

“You'll start to feel bad soon,” Eddie frowned, “we hoped that we would be able to help you in time to stop it…but now you'll have to deal with a burst’s after effects.”

‘Reaching’--

For many witches, the capability of “reaching” is quite useful, but dangerous. It's a quick way for information, and it can be considered similar to the way bonds with animals can appear, only more temporary in its nature.

Witches can use Reaching in a couple different ways: information (such as finding out names and emotions, as long as they are more on the forefront of someone's mind), emotional dimming OR amplification OR projecting (much more complex, and often frowned upon; a bit more self-explanatory and easier to understand and do)

However, the danger of Reaching isn't as simple as figuring out what a witch can use Reaching for. Similar to animal bonds, Reaching is ALWAYS a part of what is considered to be your soul, and that is where it can be dangerous. A witch who is new or who isn't thinking properly can make mistakes when Reaching, and can sometimes lose either a part, or all, of it via traps or by Over-Extending (see page—).

Other witches can often have objects on them that can prevent another witch from Reaching them, which often results in pain to the Reacher–’

Chapter Text

Steve sat awkwardly, squished between warm bodies on the small couch, as he ate and drank slowly from the meal Wayne gave him. 

It was…strangely delicious and filling. Steve looked at it.

Various herbs and greenery, a small portion of some sort of seasoned meat, and a small swirling drink that Steve could swear was almost sparkling somehow.

“You've got rather good instincts, kid,” Wayne suddenly spoke up. 

Steve hummed, looking at the older man as he ate another bite off the plate. Eddie laughed on the other side of him.

“You're eating from the more magical part of our kitchen,” Eddie chuckled, eyes flashing brightly. Wayne nodded, a corner of his lip quirking up just slightly. 

“Oh.” Steve paused, thumbing the edge of the plate. Something inside his chest wanted to curl up, a bad and wry feeling starting to fill him. 

It was like his mind was starting to fuzz around the edges like a bad tv signal. His grip on the plate and cup started to relax against his will, his strength fading as the feeling increased. 

The others started to talk again, but it was muffled as if Steve was underwater. 

He felt his mind start to wander. His skin felt too big. Too small. Not enough. Just enough. 

A blurry bedazzled hand appeared in what Steve presumed was his…eyes? And wiggled, as well as a soft voice on his left. 

The feeling increased, and increased, and increased…

Who was he? Was he even a he, how did he know? Is there even such a thing as he? Did it matter?

Everything felt right, yet everything felt wrong. 

Something further called; a feeling of breeze and the sound of rustling leaves and the thrum of vibrations. 

So what if the blurry warmth at his sides touched and muffled words at him? 

He wanted to move– towards what was calling. So he did. 

At least, he tried.

Eddie glanced at Wayne nervously, “I think it's happening… Wayne, what do we do?” He asked, mind running a million miles a second. He's heard of how witches tend to crash after releasing as much energy as Steve had– one reason why a witch having a Burst was bad– but the way to help a witch with a crash varied. Greatly. 

Wayne's face twisted with thought. 

Eddie started to eat a strand of hair, then thought of how Steve reacted during his Burst. Eddie flushed a little, then shook it off. 

‘Please’, he thought, ‘let this work.’

Eddie reached a little closer to Steve's still frame, slowly grabbing his hand and arm. He breathed in a little, and let a slow string of notes spill from his mouth. 

His tongue tasted sour for a moment, then soon filled with the flavors of chocolate and lavender and mint, spreading into the room in light, sparking haze.

It wasn't a song he usually sang– Metal was more his speed, after all– but it seemed that Eddie's hunch was right; Steve's body slowly relaxed, his gaze clearing slowly.

Eddie let a small smile curl his lips as he started to hum instead, then trailing off as Steve's head looked at him and Wayne. 

“Welcome back, pretty boy,” Eddie said, “you alright?” 

‘--to the new witches. Sometimes, older witches can even act as mentors, or just as someone who will help the new witch recover if they somehow have a Burst.

Sadly, after all new witch has a Burst, sometimes the new witch may experience the following, in varying degrees of severity:

Exhaustion 

Nausea 

Confusion

Forgetfulness

Disorganized actions, thoughts, and/or feelings

Out-of-body feelings or experiences

Dizziness 

Anger

Apathy

And sadly, sometimes even death. 

Always be careful with a new witch during and after a Burst. 

Some ways that might help a witch after a Burst vary--’