Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Byers, I can take a hit.”

This is the fourth time this evening Steve has said that. She begins to wonder if it’s a symptom of the concussion he most assuredly has. His face is a horrific mix of bruising and blood, his nose is still slowly leaking.

It’s disturbing.

Steve Harrington is usually bloodied after their battles with the Upside Down. Not even because of the monsters.

It’s the people that seem to want Steve hurt.

This time is not an exception.

“Steve, dude, you were tortured by Russians. It might be worth a quick trip to the hospital,” Dustin says as he sits beside Steve on her couch, watching as she gently cleans his wounds.

Tortured by Russians.

It makes her stomach crawl, twisting in ways that remind of her of when she first thought that Jim had…

She shakes her head, applying more pressure to Steve’s bleeding nose.

He doesn’t even flinch. His pupils are blown wide. Dustin said something about him being drugged.

“Steve, honey, I really am worried about you having a possible concussion, I’m not sure it’s a bad idea to-“

Steve stands suddenly, swaying on his feet. Jim, who is perched in the doorway between the living room and kitchen makes a suddenly movement towards him, but Steve is surprisingly aware enough of Jim that he holds a hand out to stop the older man.

“I promise, I’ve dealt with something like this before. I’ll be…fine. I just need to clean up my face a little bit. My parents…I think they come home tomorrow?”

If Joyce were dealing with anyone else, she’d take the uncertainty about his parents as another sign of his potential brain injury.

But Joyce knows the Harringtons. Knows that, at best, they are willfully neglectful.

She remembers Jim taking Steve home after Billy Hargrove used his face as a punching bag. Remembers him pacing around her living room.

“His mother wouldn’t even look at him Joyce. She just handed me money and said she was sorry he caused trouble again.”

“Didn’t you tell her what happened?”

“Yes, I said he saved their lives.”

“And?”

“Well, you know Steven. Always the reckless idiot.”

It made her blood boil.

Her blood is boiling now, because Steve is not well. Anyone who looks at him can tell, and he’s about to go home, to an empty house, and likely make himself presentable enough that his parents won’t be disappointed in him.

He saved Dustin’s life. Erica’s. From what she understands from the hyper girl who tagged along, Robin, likely hers as well.

But Steve will never share that, will never even acknowledge it. Steve thinks he’s only good for getting punched.

He’s never said that. Never directly. But she remembers the first time she cleaned his wounds.

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Byers. It’s my job to protect them. As long as they’re safe it doesn’t matter. I’m the babysitter, right?”

“What if you stayed with us tonight, Steve? It would make me feel better if you at least had someone with you the first night.”

Steve starts to shake his head, and then instantly stops. She grimaces.

“They’ll want me…there when they arrive. Plus, gotta….gotta make sure the house is clean.”

Jim scoffs. Joyce feels her hands curl into fists.

No real parent would care about their house being clean, not when their child has been so clearly brutalized. But she remembers overhearing him talking to the kids a few weeks after Billy’s brutal assault.

“My dad was so pissed when he got home and I hadn’t cleaned the pool. He was up my ass about that.”

She looks at Jim, who, she imagines, is mirroring the anger that shows on her own face, but seems as resigned as she does. Steve will refuse help. He always does, unless he’s too incapacitated to know it’s happening.

It’s infuriating. It’s also very Steve. Always there to help, never willing to take any for himself. Never wanting to take up too much space in their lives.

It makes her sad.

“Fine. But I’m driving you home kid,” Jim says, voice gruff.

Steve looks like he may argue, but as he takes another wobbly step, he looks like he thinks better of that choice. Joyce stands on her tip toes and presses a soft kiss to his brow. This, he does flinch at. Gentleness towards himself, it seems to Joyce, has always made Steve uncomfortable.

“Please let us know if you need anything at all, Sweetie.”

Steve nods. She knows he won’t ever call, but she can hope. Even for just a minute.

****

Jim Hopper thinks he may hate Richard Harrington.

He’s always hated him on a subconscious level, the guy has been scummy since they were teens, but there’s a renewed feeling of hot resentment as he watches Steve struggle into his truck, resting his head on the window.

The kid’s brain could be bleeding, but he’s more worried about whether or not the dishes have been put away.

It’s disgusting.

Now that it’s just the two of them, he can see the sweat on Steve’s brow, likely from whatever agony he’s in, the combination of physical harm and drugs in his system is probably causing some pretty intense pain.

“Do you want an aspirin at least?” Jim asks.

“No, probably not a good idea to mix that with whatever other shit is in my system” Steve huffs, attempting to make it sound funnier than it actually is.

Jim swallows but doesn’t push.

“It’s pretty badass, what you did for the kids.”

Steve offers a small smile.

“But maybe try not put yourself in so much danger next time, if you can avoid it. We need you too, Steve.”

Steve offers a thumbs up.

“Aye, aye, Chief. Wouldn’t want me to start leaking brain fluid every where.”

“That would be less than ideal.”

“After all, who would watch El.”

Jim feels himself stiffen slightly. Looks at Steve, who has his eyes closed now. He looks tired. They’re all tired, it would be hard not to be, with everything they seem to deal with on a yearly basis, but Steve’s exhaustion seems to run a little deeper than tortuous Russian or inter dimensional monsters.

It’s an exhaustion Jim has seen mirrored on his on face. After the war, after Sarah.

He doesn’t like seeing it on Steve.

“You know Steve, you’re good for more than watching the kids and taking a punch.”

Steve squeezes his eyes shut harder, there’s a small grimace that he quickly covers with another smile, which someone still manages to look charming despite the mess of his face.

“Of course Chief. I also have a pretty kick ass car.”

“Steve-“

“We almost at my place?”

Jim swallows back a snarky responses. He knows when the conversation is being shut down.

“2 more blocks kid.”

“Great.”

They don’t say anything else for the rest of the ride to the Harringtons’ cold home.

****

After promising Hopper he’d call if his brain started leaking out of his skull, Steve is finally alone.

He sinks to the floor, and holds his face in his hands, desperately trying to rid himself of the throbbing pain that his eye right now.

It’s somehow worse than when Billy busted his face in.

Billy. Billy is dead now.

Steve laughs. He would like to blame it on the drugs, but in reality, it’s because he’s a terrible person, and he’s glad Billy is gone.

He saved everyone, Steve’s brain tells him.

Yeah. He did. But also tried to kill Lucas. And tortured Steve his final year of high school. And he was cruel to Max.

So maybe he did save everyone. But he was such an asshole. And Steve is just vindictive enough to hold on to that.

He doesn’t know how long it takes to pick himself up off the floor, but he thinks he’s starting to see the sun in the horizon, and he knows that, sooner or later, if he doesn’t have the dishes put away and the floors swept and mopped before his parents get home, a concussion is going to be the least of his worries.

He allows himself the luxury of taking a shower and changing out of his bloody sailor costume. He can’t say he’ll miss wearing it, but the idea of telling his dad that he is unemployed makes his skin crawl. He scrubs a little harder.

****
It’s 5 AM by the time Steve finally finishes all his chores. Dishes take him 45 minutes longer than they should, because his hands won’t stop shaking and he’d rather die than deal with the consequences of breaking one of his mom’s plate.

He throws himself onto the couch, exhausted. The drugs seem to have finally, truly left his system, and now he feels like roadkill. Everything hurts. He thinks he should maybe take some aspirin. It might make whatever is going to happen later more bearable.

He also knows he should get some sleep. He’s going on hour 43 of no sleep. Unless you count the time he spent unconscious but he doesn’t because well….he doesn’t know how restful one would consider that really restful. He’s too muddled to really think deeply about the semantics of it.

He looks at his watch, it reads 5:12. He thinks he can probably get a couple of hours in before his parents arrive. They’d want him ready for the day by the time they showed up. It drove his mother crazy when he wasn’t made up for the day.

Couple of hours, he thinks. Just a couple.

***

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Steve jerks awake.

His vision is blurry, but he knows that imposing figure anywhere.

There’s a reason Richard Harrington owns half of Hawkins. He has… a presence. It’s powerful, and terrifying.

Steve swallows. His father tugs on his hair. It amplifies the pounding that already consumes his brain.

“I asked you a question. What the fuck are you doing sleeping on the couch? Your mother just had it cleaned.”

“I’m sorry…I just…there was um….”

“I-I-I’m so-o-orry,” his father mocks, “you sound like a fucking idiot. And what the fuck happened to your face? We are supposed to have the Holloways over for dinner tonight. You’re going to embarrass me looking like that.”

Steve tries not to let that comment sting, that his dad is more worried about public opinion than the utter mutilation that has happened to his son.

“There was, there was a fire, at the mall. It’s all gone, Dad.”

Steve thinks about the giant flesh monster, about Billy’s screams.

“For fucks sake, Steven. What, does that mean you’re unemployed?”

Steve blinks.

“Did you not hear me dad? The mall burned to the ground. People died. The Holloways are dead, I saw-“

Richard slaps him. Hard. his ears ring.

“Richard,” his mother starts. But his dad ignores her, and yanks Steve up and grabs his shirt tightly.

“What do you mean the Holloways are dead?”

Steve swallows, he looks at his mother, who seems to be fiddling with her purse.

“Look at me Steven.”

“There was a big explosion, everything burned. Dozens of people…died.”

His father releases him and turns away. The three of them stand in silence, Steve and his mother wait for Richard to say something. Neither of them can leave until he does.

“You were there? At the mall, when it burned?” Richard says calmly, still turned from Steve.

It feels like a test, Steve isn’t sure why.

“Steven.”

“Yes, yes. I was- I was there. I got hit with some debris but I made it.”

His father turns to face him again. And then he laughs.

It’s chilling, and Steve starts to pinch his inner arm, wishing, desperately, that this conversation would end, and he’d finally be free to leave.

His mother is silent.

“You know, it’s almost impressive son.”

Steve blinks.

“What is?”

“Your absolute inability to die.”

Steve stiffens. He thinks he sees his mother swallow in his peripheral, but he doesn’t dare take his eyes away from his father.

“You know, even when you were a baby, I knew you were a moron. You’d crawl backwards for God’s sake.”

Steve bites the inside of his cheek so hard it starts to bleed.

“I’d used to pray you fall into the pool and drown, and that we could try again.”

The heat of the house is stifling.

“And then you fell down the stairs and cracked your skull, and I thought, finally, we will be free.”

“Dad-“ he tries to interrupt but Richard just keeps going.

“But you didn’t die. And then Jonathan Byers, that fucking piece of trash, kicked the shit out of you. And then Hargrove. And now a mall fire, where dozens of people die, respectable people like the Holloways, and you still somehow make it out.”

Steve wants to crawl out of his skin. He wants to run, to scream.

He can’t.

“You’re like a fucking cockroach.”

Suddenly, his father shoves and Steve falls to the ground. His shoulder hits the coffee table on the way down and he see stars.

His father presses a shoe against Steve’s chest, and Steve begs himself not to panic. Not to fight.

“I must be the unluckiest man in the world, to have a son like you, to have so many opportunities to be rid of you, and you just keep coming back, like the disgusting insect you are.”

He presses harder on Steve’s chest, and Steve feels his bones start to ache. The pressure is overwhelming.

And then it’s gone.

His father walks away, muttering something about Steve having the couch cleaned up by the time he’s get done with his shower.

He hears his mom quietly follow his dad out, and only then does Steve allow himself to cry.

Chapter Text

One Month Later

Like most things related to Hawkins Lab and the Upside Down, it takes them all about a month to fully adjust and process everything that has happened to them.

They can’t take that long with their trauma processing, there are bills to pay, school to prepare for, families to annoy.

Joyce will say, it’s been interesting this time around, with the inherent publicness of the destruction of Star Court Mall, and the tragic deaths of over thirty people. It’s almost a mercy, she thinks awfully, because she’s allowed to feel a little somber in public.

She’s thankful, at least, that the kids seem okay. El’s leg has fully healed, and she’s excited to start high school with the boys in a few days.

Hopper is not as excited.

“I’m just not sure it’s a good idea,” he says, “I still think it’s too early.”

Joyce continues to stock cans. Melvald’s is still pretty desolate, despite the death of the mall. But she’s all for being as normal as possible where she can.

“Well, Hop, she can’t stay hidden forever.”

He huffs.

“You sound like Harrington.”

She stills.

Joyce has not gotten to see Steve as much as she would like to this last month. He still comes by and hangs out with the kids, he watches El for Hopper, but he hasn’t come to their weekly dinners. Joyce is sure the return and continued stay of his parents is likely the cause for this. It makes her sad. She misses him.

“Well, you know Steve, he’s a pretty smart kid.”

Jim snorts, not in an unkind way, but in a way that suggests that Steve is often too smart for his own good.

“He thinks I need to let her go… what is it? Spread her wings?”

“I’d say I have to agree. Besides, Owens gave you the all clear. There’s nothing legally holding you back.”

Owens had surprisingly been in favor of El starting her normal life. It makes Joyce happy, to see El finally get the childhood she’s always deserved.

She knows Jim is happy for this too, but he’s a little overprotective and a lot skeptical that they’re really free of all this.

It’s hard not to be, not after all they’ve been through.

“Well, I’ll tell you one thing, if Mike even tries to put his grubby hands on her, I’ll-“

“Jim!”

Before she can fully admonish him, she hears the door chime and she turns to greet likely her only customer of the day.

“Hi! Welcome to-“

She stops.

Standing in front of her, is Mary Harrington, wearing a bright white tennis dress and visor. Her sneakers are also white, sparkling in the fluorescent light. Her makeup is perfect, and there isn’t a hair out of place.

She looks so cold.

“Oh, Mary, hi! It’s been a while!”

Mary offers a small, wan smile.

“Hello, Joyce. Business been good?”

They both look around the empty store, and Joyce can’t tell if it is meant as a condescending question, or if Mary is really just not sure how to make small talk.

“Hiya Mary, how have you been?” Hopper says.

The condescension is clear in his voice.

Mary purses her lips and pushes her shoulders back.

“Jim.”

Joyce lets out an awkward laugh, hopeful to ease some of the tension.

“What can I do for you, Mary?”

The other woman looks around the shop, and Joyce can tell she’s not entirely impressed by what she sees. This is so very different from Steve, who loves coming into Melvald’s on the weekend and buying as much candy as he can physically carry for the kids.

While Joyce can count the number of times she’s seen Richard and Mary in here, Steve’s been a regular since he was ten.

“I came to see if you have some water bottles. Richard and I are supposed to play tennis with the Mackenzies at the club today, and I didn’t have time to run out to the grocery store.”

Joyce nods, careful not to react to Hopper’s muttered comments about “rich people and their stupid hobbies.”

Either Mary doesn’t hear him, or like Joyce, pretends not to.

“Sure, Mary, let me go grab four of those for you.”

“Thank you Joyce.”

Joyce tries not to leave the two of them alone for too long, convinced Hopper will say something that will result in even less time for them to spend with Steve. She quickly grabs four bottles, and heads back up to the register. Mary follows her, holding tightly to her purse and careful not to touch anything.

“So, Mary, how long do you think you and Richard will be in town? This is longer than you’re usually in town.”

“Well, Richard was heavily invested in the mall, so with all the Mayor Kline nonsense happening, he wanted to stay in town until the insurance details are sorted. We suspect there will be a significant payout.”

Joyce has to refrain from slapping the other woman. People died, her son was brutally injured, and they’re interested in the money.

Joyce wonders what it’s like, to be so callous.

“Plus,” Mary continues, seemingly unaware of Joyce’s repulsion, “Richard wanted to stick around to keep an eye on Steven. He’s been…unpredictable these past few years. Richard thinks a firm hand will help give him some direction.”

“Well, it must have been hard for Steve.” Jim says.

Mary blinks and looks towards the man.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you know, with every thing happening around town, getting pretty seriously injured, the whole Nancy Wheeler thing.”

“Sorry?”

“Well Nancy was his first serious girlfriend. Their breakup must have been hard on him.”

Mary frowns, “I wasn’t aware they weren’t seeing each other anymore.”

“Yes, it’s been almost a year.”

Joyce watches their stare down, Mary clearly embarrassed that Hopper seems to know more about her own son than she does, but unwilling to say anything that might further indict her as a neglectful parent.

“Well, it’s just as well. Steven doesn’t need a girlfriend right now, he’s already so distracted.”

Jim laughs, and Joyce feels an urge to warn him he’s about to push too far.

“I don’t know, Steve spends a lot time with my kid, and he seems pretty on top of it to me. Seems like he’s working hard to find a new job, and he’s helping Lucas Sinclair train for basketball tryouts. I think he’s also giving driving lessons to that Robin Buckley girl.”

Mary finally lets a crack of disgust flick across her face, but only for a second.

“Yes, well, Richard thinks of those as distractions. I’d hadn’t realized he’s been spending so much time volunteering with the local, underprivileged youth. That’s a habit we will have to encourage him to break,” she sneers.

“Now wait just-“ Jim starts but Joyce does not want this to get any worse than it already is.

“That’ll be $1.80,” she says.

Mary gives her a five and grabs the bottles without asking for change. She walks quickly to the door before turning around and looking at Joyce.

“I heard Jonathan and Steven got into a fight?”

Joyce pales.

“Um, yes, but that was years ago and I think the boys have-“

“Please tell your son the next time he feels the need to attack Steven to aim somewhere that isn’t his face. It makes us look bad when he shows up covered in bruises.”

She walks out, leaving Joyce and Jim in stunned silence.

“Shit,” Jim finally says.

Joyce turns and looks at him, hopeful that her anger is clear enough on her face.

It seems it is.

“Listen, Joyce-“

“I can’t tell you what a spectacularly bad idea that was. Why on earth would you antagonize her?”

“I don’t know, I wasn’t thinking.”

She scoffs.

“Well, try a little thinking. We already don’t see Steve enough as it is, you think she’s going to let him out of that prison of mansion to spend time with El when you’re calling her a bad mother to her face?”

“She is a bad mother.”

“It doesn’t matter Jim! Steve is stuck with her! With them! Don’t make his life harder because you want to be vindictive.”

Joyce presses her face into her hands, trying to stop the tears from spilling over.

“Joyce…”

“Please Jim, I miss him. Don’t encourage them to hide him away from us. Please.”

She feels him wrap his arms around her. His chin rests on top of his.

“I don’t want to lose him, Jim.”

“No more Joyce, I promise.”

They stand there like this for a little longer. There’s no worry that someone might come in, no one ever does.

“You know, it’s weird,” Hop says once they separate.

“What is?”

“He looks so much like her.”

Joyce thinks back to Mary, with her thick brown hair and hazel eyes. The small moles on her neck. The tanned skin.

It’s strange, to think that Steve came from part of her. It’s easy to see that they’re mother and son, but she’s so…

“She’s so cold,” Joyce says, “and Steve is so…”

“Warm,” Hopper finishes for her.

****
Steve is tired.

Spectacularly so.

His day has been a shit show from the beginning, waking up to his dad screaming at him because he forgot to skim the pool, to being tossed in the pool while he was still half asleep and in his pajamas. It’s unfortunate that he can’t hide in his room all day, not when he’s already agreed to help Robin practice for her driving test and take the kids to the arcade later today.

It sucks, the things that he actually wants to do are so overshadowed by the suffocating presence of his parents.

It’s also weird, he used to spend so much time wishing they would stay. Now, he’d give anything for them to go. He misses weekly dinner at the Byers house. Misses helping Jonathan work on his car, or listening to Will tell him about his latest drawing endeavor.

But his dad hates the Byers. Well…his dad hates anyone he thinks is beneath him.

Which just happens to be half of town, and 99 percent of the people he spends time with.

But Steve is not willing to cut himself off cold turkey. He allows himself these little rebellions.

Even if it means walking around with Bruised ribs.

So Steve finds himself here, on his way to pick up some of the kids with a cracked rib, pounding headache, and Robin chattering on in his ear.

“I’m just saying, Steve, if you’d flirt a little harder, you could definitely convince Chrissy to help us get jobs at Ronnie’s.”

“No.”

“Come on! Why not?”

“I can list a multitude of different reasons why that’s a bad idea. One, she’s like, still in high school-“

“Didn’t stop you from trying to confess to me!”

“Okay but you’re like 9 months younger than me, Chrissy is like two years. Besides, she’s dating Jason Carver and that guy is a jealous freak.”

“I thought freak was reserved for Eddie Munson?”

Steve scoffs.

“Look, Munson is a lot of things, but he sells quality shit for a good price. I’ll never call him freak. Carver is borderline religious cult member or some shit like that.”

Robin hums in agreement, “it’s so weird. Chrissy seems so nice and normal. What the hell does she see in a guy like that?”

“Well I’m sure her mom likes that they’re in the same tax bracket.”

“Ah, some Richard Harrington like shit.”

Steve grimaces but doesn’t deny it. It’s true, after all. The only reason they’d been okay with Nancy is because she’s incredibly smart and her dad loves Regan.

Not that any of that mattered anymore.

“Two, Ronnie’s sucks. Benny’s supremacy.”

“Benny’s been closed for almost two years. Let it go Steve.”

“Never.”

Benny made the best fries in town. Benny used to feed Steve when his parents left him alone for weeks. Benny gave him a milkshake after his dad gave him his first black eye.

Steve had gotten a C on a math test.

Steve misses Benny. Another terrible loss to Hawkins lab.

“Well then, where else should we look? Remember, it’s a package deal, so it’s gotta be somewhere hiring for two people.”

Steve feels himself warm when Robin says that, that she’s so committed to their continued duo.

It’s nice, that it’s not just him who felt that connection between the two of them.

Steve is pulling up to Henderson’s house when she mentions that Family Video may be looking for people soon.

“Ugh, but isn’t Keith kinda creepy?”

“Yes, but how creepy can he be compared to evil Russians?”

“That’s… a fair point.”

Robin looks smug, but suddenly jumps when a fist starts pounding on her window.

“Jesus Christ!” She shrieks as she turns a withering look to Dustin.

“Dustin what the hell man?” Steve says.

Dustin throws the door open and stands there, arms crossed and face set.

“That’s my spot.”

Oh good lord.

Steve groans. Dustin and Robin have this fight anytime they’re in the car at the same time, which has become more often than he had expected now that he’s teaching Robin how to drive. It’s a little unbearable, and frankly he gets why Robin is so stubborn about it, cause Dustin is really unhealthily possessive of shot gun.

“Listen, kid-“

“Steve do you hear how patronizing she’s being?”

“I don’t know that it’s patronizing-“

“Listen, you rode shot gun last time, for the sake of fairness, it’s my turn.”

“Yeah, okay, well it’s not my sticky little middle school-“

“Um, excuse you, we are all about to be in high school next week.”

“Whatever, I’m not sitting in the back with a bunch of sweaty boys. You sit next to Wheeler, you can have your precious spot on the way back.”

“This is outrageous. Steve’s a dude?”

Steve tries not to be offended by the implication that Dustin just made about him being sweaty and gross.

“Please, Henderson. Steve is not just some sweaty dude. He’s shower more regularly than I do. And he smells amazing. Get your ass in the back. I don’t feel like listening to Mike bitch about us being late.”

****

Despite their best efforts, Mike does bitch about them being late. Which is frankly surprising because one, they actually are not late, and two, Mike could easily get a ride from Jonathan or Nancy, but chooses to keep riding with Steve, whom he claims to loathe.

Steve takes it all in stride, because Mike Wheeler has been going through the worst kind of puberty for the last year and half, and none of this is any different from usual.

However Will Byers is a perfect angel, and he does not appreciate Mike’s constant complaints.

“Jesus, Mike, we aren’t gonna be late meeting El. Chill out.”

“I’m just saying, if someone had been a little less preoccupied with his hair and more concerned with us meeting our agreed upon arcade pick up time-“

“Wheeler I’m like three seconds away from having you walk the rest of the way there,” Robin says.

Mike looks like he’s ready to tell Robin it’s not her car, but gets a withering look from Will that puts an end to his rant.

Unsurprisingly, they make it to the arcade right on time, with Max and El pulling up at the same time as Chief Hopper. Steve gives him a little wave, which Hopper returns.

He looks a little guilty. Steve wonders what that is about.

“Alright shitheads, I’ll be back in two hours to pick you up. Try not to blow all your cash in one place.”

Dustin offers a salute and Mike rolls his eyes but they both get out without argument.

Suddenly it’s just him, Robin, and Will in the car.

“What’s up little Byers? Need a couple of extra quarters? I think I have some I can spare-“

“I made you something!”

Steve blinks, and then smiles. Will hands him a folded piece of paper. Will is always doing stuff like this, giving Steve small gifts. Steve treasures every picture Will gives him, storing them safely in the top of his dresser.

“Thanks, Will. I bet this is sick.”

Will smiles and waves, “see you in a couple of hours!”

He gets out and joins the rest of the kids. Robin sighs.

“He’s too pure for this world.”

****

After dropping Robin off, his finds himself with time to kill and no desire to head home. He could go to Melvald’s but he doesn’t really want to head right into town and make small talk about his parents’ unexpectedly long stay in town.

So he ends up at the Quarry, which seems deserted and just the kind of place Steve needs right now.

It’s sunny, but surprisingly comfortable outside, so he finds himself dangling his legs over the edge and laying down to look at Will’s latest artistic masterpiece.

He’s charmed to see it’s a knight, one that looks very much like Steve. It’s nice to be thought of this way, heroic and kind. It’s more than Steve deserves.

“Do my eyes deceive me, or is that King Steve I see basking in sunlight.”

Steve jerks up and turns slightly to see…

Eddie Munson.

Huh.

“Munson?”

“In the flesh.”

Steve meant what he said earlier, he doesn’t think Munson is a freak, but the dude has a…flair for the dramatics. He’s all flourishes and big gestures and he just takes up so much space.

Steve wonders what that must feel like. To feel so, so free.

He’s never felt anything other than trapped.

“What are you doing here?” Steve asks.

“I could ask the same of you, kingdom a little overwhelming right now?”

“Cut that out man. I’m just Steve, okay?”

Eddie is quiet for a moment and Steve turns himself forward, facing the water and looks down at the drawing Will gave him.

“Whatcha got there?” Eddie says as he sits down next to Steve, looking at Will’s drawing.

Steve doesn’t know why, but he offers it to Eddie so he can see what Will has done. Eddie looks over it pensively.

“Who did this?”

“Will Byers.”

“No shit, Zombie boy?”

Steve feels a spike of anger and grabs the drawing back.

“Don’t call him that.”

Eddie holds his hands up in a placating manner.

“Sorry, sorry. I don’t mean any offense. I think it’s a sick nickname.”

Steve nods but doesn’t say anything.

“It’s a cool drawing,” Eddie offers, “Didn’t realize he was into DnD.”

Steve blinks.

Eddie rolls his eyes, “you know, Dungeons and Dragons? He drew you as a Paladin. It’s like, an intense knight.”

“Dungeons and Dragons? Isn’t that what your club does, what is it.. Hellbomb or something.”

“Hellfire, Harrington.”

“Right.”

They sit there in silence for a little while long, both looking out at the still water. It’s kinda nice, being here with Eddie.

Steve looks back down at the drawing, and then back at Eddie.

“Hey, Munson. Mind if I run an idea by you?”

Chapter Text

It seems like a bad idea.

A really bad idea.

But somehow, Steve Harrington has the most earnest and sad eyes Eddie Munson has ever seen.

So, who could blame him for agreeing to this.

“I’m sorry, you did what?” Gareth gasps, choking on his chocolate milk. Jeff makes a disgusted face.

“Gross, dude. Swallow before you wig out.”

Gareth gives Jeff an incredulous look before turning back to Eddie.

“Did you not hear him Jeff?”

“I did.”

“He wants to-“

“Uh huh.”

“He-“

“Yes.”

“You wanna help Steve Harrington?! Dickhead supreme Harrington?”

“I thought the dickhead supreme title belonged to Hargrove now doesn’t it?” Jeff says, biting into his sandwich.

“I think you gotta be alive to qualify,” Derek says casually.

“Jesus Christ Derek,” Eddie mutters.

Despite the relatively cavalier attitude of Jeff and Derek, Gareth looks like he’s gonna have a stroke, which, given the circumstances, Eddie sort of gets.

It’s not everyday you agree to help acclimate the supposed children of Hawkins High’s former douchebag.

But no one would ever of accuse Eddie of being anything but a total softie.

“Listen, Gar, it’s not like Harrington asked to join himself. He just wanted us to reach out to the kids he babysits and let them know Hellfire exists. He says they all play. I don’t see how that’s a bad thing.”

“What if they’re demons? Or spies and he’s just trying to fuck with us!”

Jeff scoffs, and takes a bite of his apple.

“I really doubt Harrington is sending spies our way man, I think he’s got other things going on than worrying about a high school club, let’s just give the kids a chance, okay?”

“I still don’t like it.”

“Well, pretend you do.”

Gareth keeps grumbling, which the rest of them choose not to indulge. Eddie spends the beginning of his lunch scanning the tables for the kids Steve told him about.

He’d also given him a picture for reference. Steve was wearing a reindeer sweater, and Eddie refused to feel endeared by this detail.

It takes 10 minutes before he spots them, the first one being a kid with incredibly curly hair. Eddie guesses this must be Dustin, if Steve’s information is true.

He stands, ignoring Garth’s sighs, and makes his way over to the table.

Conveniently, every kid in the picture is at the table, with the exception of the one red headed girl, but Eddie guesses it’ll be easy enough to sway her once he convinces the others.

“Greetings, young sheep!” He says, using his most dramatic flair.

They all look at him, vacant stares and silence.

Eddie feels mildly self conscious.

“What do you want?” A kid with an extremely sour face grunts at him, and Eddie begins to think Gareth may be on to something about Harrington sending them devil spawn.

“Eddie Munson. A little birdy told me you all have an interest in Dungeons and Dragons.”

Will Byers, who is sitting next to sour face, lights up.

“Yeah! We’ve been running campaigns since we were kids!”

Eddie smiles. He gets why Steve feels so protective of Will. Why he seemed willing to fight for him instantly.

“Well, how do you feel about moving up to the big leagues?”

A girl with long brown hair gives Eddie a confused look. This must be El, according to Steve’s information. Jim Hopper’s adopted daughter.

“Big leagues?” She says, confused.

“Yes, you see, I’m the Dungeon Master for Hellfire, and I’d like to formally invite all of you to join our coalition.”

Another kid, Lucas, smiles, “really? That would be so cool, right Mike?”

Sour face, now identified as Mike, seems to contemplate the offer. El, who sits on the other side of him, watches the kid unflinchingly, seemingly hanging on to his every action or decision.

It makes Eddie feel a little tense for some reason.

“How did you know we played DnD?” Dustin asks him.

“Your babysitter might have mentioned it.”

Somehow, Mike is able to make a face more disgusted than before. Eddie isn’t sure how that’s possible.

“You’re here because of Steve?”

“Mike-“ Will begins but is immediately cut off.

“This has to be lame if it’s coming from Steve.”

Dustin looks instantly offended.

“Hey, Steve’s awesome.”

“He’s an idiot.”

El scowls and pushes Mike slightly.

“What the hell was that for?”

“Don’t be mean about Steve. Steve is good.”

“El-“

“When’s the next campaign?” Will jumps in, and everyone turns to face him.

“Next Tuesday. Right after school.”

They all go quiet and stare at each other. Eddie wonders if they somehow know how to communicate with each other telepathically.

“We’ll be there!” Will says, big smile on his face.

Mike grumbles, but doesn’t contradict his friends. Eddie gives a small grin.

“You know, Harrington didn’t say his sheep were surly.”

Mike guffaws at that, “I am not his sheep!”

Dustin snorts at this, “you so are. You think you’re better than the rest of us, but you’re just as desperate to have Steve like you as we are.”

“Ugh, lame.”

“Shut up Wheeler, I saw you asking him from tips on how to surprise El,” a small but angry red headed girl says as she flips through a magazine, not even lifting her head when Wheeler starts to sputter.

Eddie instantly likes her.

“Well, we will see you in the theater practice room at 3:30 sharp. Don’t be late, or I’ll make sure to kill you in the first session.”

With that, Eddie gives one of his most dramatic bows, which is surprisingly met by a thrilled clap. The kids are eating this up, and Eddie can’t pretend he isn’t enjoying this. It’s so rare to have people immediately like him.

Usually people think he’s a satan worshipper on first glance.

“So, how are they?” Jeff says when Eddie sits back down.

“Gentleman, I think we have found the future of Hellfire.”

*****

Steve wonders if he should be feeling as proud as he does right now, getting pity hired for a minimum wage job rewinding tapes.

But it’s a job. One step closer to freedom. It makes him feel like he can breathe a little easier, even just slightly.

His parents are going to hate this. It makes Steve feel even giddier. It shouldn’t. He knows what happens when his dad hates something he’s proud of, but he can’t help it. He has a job. A job with Robin! She’d even ditched her last period to go do this interview, and Robin had made it abundantly clear that she is not a skipper or slacker, not like Steve was in school.

He tries not to let that assumption sting, because Robin doesn’t know any better. And to be fair, Steve had never let her assume any better, so it’s really his fault.

Most things are Steve’s fault.

*****

Steve decides he is in the mood for risk taking today, and finds himself parking in front of Melvald’s, hoping Mrs. Byers is working like usual today.

He’s happy to hear the chime of the bell immediately followed by a shout of, “Welcome to Melvald’s! I’ll be right with you.”

Steve looks around the store. It’s pretty empty, with a few stray shoppers here and there, no one that Steve’s too familiar with.

Mrs. Byers comes speed walking to the front of the store and gives Steve a wide smile. He can’t help but smile back.

“Steve! What a nice surprise!”

She wraps him a hug and Steve feels himself relax even further, returning her hug easily. Steve wonders what it’s like to have a mom like Mrs. Byers, who loves her children so fiercely and so loudly.

Steve doesn’t remember the last time his mother had hugged him.

The smaller woman releases him, but places a gentle hand on his cheek, doing what looks like a thorough check of Steve’s overall wellness.

“What brings you here, sweetie?”

“I just wanted to let you know that Robin and I got the jobs. We start Monday!”

“Oh Steve that’s wonderful! I’m so proud of you!”

Steve grins and Mrs. Byers gives a little clap of her hands.

“Wait here for just a second,” she tells him and runs to an aisle to the left.

“Steven?”

Steve feels his blood run cold. He thinks he must have hallucinated. He turns around slowly, desperately hoping he is right, that this is just the traumatic brain injury talking.

He’s not that lucky.

There she is, his mother, in all her glory. She’s wearing 5 inch heels, shiny black heels, a pleated skirt, and hideous blue blouse that his father got her years ago. Steve didn’t think she would even still have it.

Her lips are pursed, clearly confused why Steve would be at Melvald’s of all places. Steve, on the other hand, is somewhat confused what his mother is doing here. She is fairly open about her disgust regarding the shabby shops in town. Even more so her dislike for Joyce Byers, who she regularly refers to as white trash.

“-okay Steve here’s a little something for acing the interview-oh,” Steve hears Mrs. Byers say behind her.

His mother’s eyes dart behind him, and Steve knows she is assessing whatever it is that Mrs. Byers is holding. Steve risks turning around.

She’s holding a PBMax bar, Steve’s favorite. If Steve were less horrified by his mother’s presence, he’d be touch that she remembered.

His mom stares at the bar like it’s responsible for the destruction of her favorite pearls.

“Hi…hi Mary. Nice to see you again.”

Again?

“Hmm…yes. Richard wanted pot roast for dinner, and I don’t have time to go to my usual store so I thought I’d try…here.”

Steve begs the universe to swallow him up whole.

Mrs. Byers stuffs the candy bag into her apron. “Right, um, well we should have some in the back in the freezer area.”

His mother doesn’t move. Steve feels his cheeks heat with embarrassment.

“I’ll go-“ He starts but is cut off.

“Joyce, why don’t you go see if you can find that for me. I just want to have a quick word with Steven.”

Mrs. Byers looks like she doesn’t want to move, doesn’t want to abandon Steve, but he gives her a subtle nod. He’d rather it be him subjected to his mother’s cruelty than her.

She purses her lips.

“Joyce? The roast?”

She stands there for a moment longer and lets out a small sigh, “right, I’ll go get that for you now.”

She wanders off, not without casting Steve another pitying look. Steve tries to reassure her with a small smile.

He’s not sure she believes it.

When she’s out of earshot, Steve turns to his mother, “Mom-“

“Where have you been all day, Steven? Your father is very upset you didn’t leave a note.”

Steve swallows hard.

“I um, I had to drop off the kids at school, and then I had a job interview.”

Her face remains unreadable.

“Well?” She says.

“Um-“

“Did you get the job?”

“Oh, yeah. I did.”

“And where is it?”

“It’s at….it’s at-“

“Stop stuttering, Steven. You know I hate that. It makes you sound like an idiot.”

He flinches.

“Where is the job, Steven?”

“Family Video.”

She gives a small huff of disgust.

“I know it doesn’t seem like much, but it’s a good start. Once I get situated, I was thinking about applying to the community college and-“

“Steven didn’t you fail to get in the first time? Best not to embarrass yourself again.”

Steve feels his nails dig into his palms. His mom has always been good at this. Making his feel small.

“Also, whatever nonsense Joyce Byers is giving you, be sure to throw it directly in the trash.”

“But-“

“Here is that pot roast, Mary.”

Steve turns and sees Mrs. Byers, hoping she didn’t hear what his mother said. Steve thinks he would rather die than let anyone speak poorly about Joyce Byers.

His mom nods her head at him, and he reaches out his hand to take hold of the roast. Something crinkles in his hand beneath the roast.

“How much will it be?” His mom asks.

“Oh, why don’t you have it on the house!”

This was the wrong thing to say. His mother stiffens, clearly not liking that Joyce Byers of all people is offering what seems to be charity.

“I don’t think-“

“Please! I insist. A thank you to Steve for always driving around my boy. Will just adores Steve.”

If possible, Mary Harrington looks even more disgusted.

“Well, thank you. Steven?”

Steve turns to follow his mother out the door. He doesn’t look back, he can’t face Mrs. Byers. He’s so embarrassed, so ashamed of his mother.

He follows her to her car, and she rips the roast out of his hands. She places it in the passenger seat and turns to face Steve.

“Be home by 6:00. You know what he’s like when you aren’t home for dinner. I really wish you wouldn’t antagonize him, he works hard to make sure you are provided for. You’d think you’d show a little gratitude.”

Steve nods.

“Oh, and don’t tell him about the job. It’ll just put him in a bad mood.”

With that, she gets into the car and drives away, and Steve just stands and watches her.

He’s wonders what would happen if he never came home for dinner again. If he never had to eat another terrible pot roast or look at his mother’s cold face. He wonders what it would be like to live with Mrs. Byers and eat her spaghetti and watch movies in her living room. What it would be like to have Will as a little brother.

But Steve is a Harrington. He will always be a Harrington. It will always just be the three of them, the most miserable people he knows.

He sighs and curls his hands into fists. He feels something crinkle and looks down. The PBMax, a little squished, but there.

He smiles.

Chapter Text

“So let me get this straight, you actually asked Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson to…what, mentor your kids?”

Steve groans.

“They aren’t my kids Robin.”

She scoffs, “Yeah, sure they aren’t. Tell me again why we are picking up Lucas from basketball tryouts?”

Steve taps his fingers against the steering wheel.

“Because, his mom asked if I could and I wasn’t busy so I told her yes. I’m just being friendly.”

“Sure Steve, there’s nothing else that you, a young, attractive male could be doing on Friday night.”

He blinks at her, “Oh Robbie, you think I’m attractive?”

She gags.

“Besides,” He says after a moment, “I think Eddie could be good for them. High school is a lot. It’ll be good if they can befriend some upper class men.”

“Ah yes, you want the kids to fit in and have a chill high school experience. So you chose to ask Edward Munson to guide their paths. What could possibly go wrong there?”

“I thought it was short for Edmund.”

“Steve.”

“Okay! Okay! Look, they like D&D and Eddie has a school sanctioned D&D group. It seems like a good fit to me. Besides, he’s not that bad. People just like to rag on him because he’s a nonconformist.”

Robin blinks.

“What?”

“Nothing. Just a big word for you to use.”

“Gee, thanks Robin,” he says, a little icy.

Robin always tells him what an ass he was in school, he thinks she sometimes forgets that she can be kind of an ass too.

“Oh Steve, I’m sorry. That was bitchy of me.”

Okay. Maybe she doesn’t forget.

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not. That was a total douche canoe moment.”

Steve finds himself laughing.

“Yeah, douche canoe.”

She offers him a small smile and reaches over to hold one of his hands. Steve can’t stay mad at her. She’s his best friend in the whole world. Even if she sometimes forgets that Steve has feelings too.

“Well, was the indoctrination successful?” She asks him.

“Yeah! I think they’re doing some campaign Tuesday night. According to Dustin and Will, Mike was too busy grunting to give me a lot of details.”

“Sounds like Mike.”

*****

Lucas comes out and his shoulders hang low and his head looks like its too heavy for his body to carry, and Steve immediately feels a pit open in his stomach.

He worries the kid might have gotten hurt, and that thought alone is enough to have him getting out of the car and meeting Lucas half way. The other players filtering out the doors look at Steve oddly, but he doesn’t care. He’s too focused on Lucas to pay attention.

“Luke! Buddy! How did it go?” He says.

Lucas stops and Steve watches as he grits his teeth and stiffens his body.

Uh oh.

“Lucas?”

“Can we just go?”

Steve snaps his mouth shut and nods. He doesn’t think that Lucas sees his response, as he’s already stomping back to the car by the time Steve has processed his tone.

Lucas is angry.

He doesn’t say anything until they’re back in the car. Robin shares a look with him, but is smart enough to keep reading her book for class and not say anything.

“What happened?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it matters.”

“Leave it alone, Steve.”

Steve’s never been very good at leaving things alone.

“C’mon man, it can’t be that ba-“

“I sucked okay!” Lucas explodes, “I was the worst one out there. They’re never gonna let me on the team.”

Steve allows him a moment to catch his breath. Robin, bless her, continues to pretend like she cannot hear, or that she doesn’t exist at all.

Steve knows that it is likely that Lucas is wrong, and that he probably did an incredible job. But Lucas, who outwardly seems pretty self assured, struggles with always feelings confident in himself. It doesn’t help that the rest of the party have been…skeptical of his participation in the basketball team in general. Well, everyone but El… who seems to think Lucas should do whatever makes him happy.

Steve often thinks she’s the smartest of them all.

“Lucas, did I ever tell you that I tripped and landed on my ass during my basketball tryouts?”

Steve can hear Robin trying to hold back her laugh.

“Really?” Lucas says, with a note of incredulity.

“Yep. Ate total shit. Was bruised for like a week and half. Worse, I’m pretty sure the hottest girl in my grade saw me do it too.”

“And you still made it?”

“And I still made it.”

Lucas is quiet for a moment. It’s not the tense quiet that greeted them before.

“Do you think I made it?” Lucas says quietly, when Robin has been dropped off and the two of them are in the car alone.

“No doubt in my mind buddy.”

It doesn’t take long for Steve to make it back to the Sinclair’s residence. He watches as Lucas collects his things an marches to his front door.

“Steve?” He hears Lucas shout from the porch.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

*****

“Steven!”

Steve jerks awake from a nap the next day, visions of faceless flesh monsters and a dead Billy Hargrove still haunting him as he drags himself out of his room to meet his father in the hallway. It’s somehow already 3 PM in the afternoon.

“Dad.”

He’s immediately met with a hard slap to the face.

“Don’t take that tone with me.”

Steve resists the urge to reach his hand up and cradle his aching face. He father hates when he acts weak. Hates it even more when Steve has the nerve to do it in front of Richard.

“Sorry.”

His father purses his lips and Steve waits for the next blow.

He’s ashamed of how relieved he feels when he doesn’t feel another blow.

“We have a business dinner tonight, 7:00 PM. Enzo’s. Try not to screw it up.”

Steve blinks.

“Um-“

“Um what, Steven?”

“You-you want me to come?”

“It’s amazing to me that you graduated high school with your current IQ level. Yes, Steven, you are to come to dinner. The Shermans have asked we bring you for some reason. I expect you to be ready to go at 6:30 PM.”

Steve swallows.

“Dad, I-I can’t go tonight.”

The house is so quiet.

“What?”

“I-I can’t go. I have plans.”

“Doing what?”

“I’m supposed to babysit this girl-“

Another hard slap to the face. Steve tastes blood.

“Do you want to be a woman, Steven? Is that why you are so into child rearing these days?”

Steve doesn’t answer.

“Cancel it.”

Steve thinks about Mrs. Mayfield, who has been a hopeless wreck since the death of Billy and her divorce from his father. He thinks about Max, who is so angry, who feels so alone right now.

Steve can’t abandon her.

He won’t.

“I’m sorry dad, but I can’t.”

Steve can sense it before it happens. A sick sort of intuition. It helped keep him alive when the Demogorgons started hunting them down. Now, it allows him to brace himself for the swift right hook that causes his vision to explode.

He stumbles, but his father manages to yank him back to a standing position and grabs hold of his chin.

“You don’t tell me no, not ever. You understand?”

Maybe Steve is really as dumb as everyone says. If he were smarter, he wouldn’t have shaken his head no. Wouldn’t have refused to bend to his father’s will.

But he can’t bear to Max spend another night alone with her drunk of a mom.

Richard Harrington doesn’t like taking no for an answer.

“Fine, you don’t want to come? That’s just fine.”

He punches Steve again, and this time, he lets him collapse.

“I’ll be sure to tell the Sherman’s you weren’t feeling well.”

He delivers a quick kick to Steve’s side.

“But, we should make sure, of course. After all, you know I hate to lie, don’t you Steven?”

*****

Steve doesn’t know how long he lays there, curled up after his father he suitably fits the “not feeling well” excuse.

Steve remembers him telling Steve that if there is any blood on the carpet later, he’ll make Steve regret being born.

As if Steve doesn’t already regret it.

After that, there are brief moments of consciousness and blurry vision and Steve knows it’s not a concussion that plagues him, which he is grateful for.

He somehow manages to drag himself off the floor and into the bathroom and grimaces at what he sees.

His lip is split, and it’s clear his eye is going to be black tomorrow. He’s glad he canceled dinner with the Byers tomorrow, he’s almost certain that Mrs. Byers would ask questions that Steve did not want to answer.

Steve looks at his watch, and lets out a small breath.

It’s only 5:30, which means he can still make it to Max’s before Mrs. Mayfield has to leave for work. He’s relieved he’s only managed to disappoint one adult in his life tonight, and not two.

He’s not sure how he plans to explain the busted lip and bruised eye, but he tries not to think about that, and instead he gets himself as together as possible, dry swallows two aspirins, and marches to his car.

The drive to Forest Hills isn’t a long one, and Steve arrives in front of the Mayfield trailer in almost no time at all.

He’s actually fairly surprised that Mrs. Mayfield invites him to babysit all the time, she seems to hate the idea that anyone knows they live here. Max is the same way, no one ever comes to her home.

Not one but Steve that is.

He knocks on the door, stiffening as the sudden noise jars the pain in his aching head.

Mrs. Mayfield opens the door and blinks.

“Oh my goodness, Steve, what happened to you?”

Steve offers what he hopes is his most charming smile.

“I had a bit of a spill on the stairs earlier. I think the stairs may have won this battle,” he lies easily.

She gives him a sympathetic look. It’s the same look his mother’s friends used to give him when he was a kid and getting mysterious injuries all the time.

“Poor Steven.”

“Yes, he’s a little clumsy.”

Steve tries ignore the way his skin crawls.

“Are you sure you’re okay to watch Max tonight? I’d understand if you just wanted to sleep off the pain. Looks like you’ll have a nasty black eye tomorrow.”

Steve smiles even wider, it hurts the cut on his busted lip.

“It’s really no problem! Max isn’t hard to keep an eye on.”

“You’re sure?”

“Absolutely!”

She gives him a small smile, a gentle pat on the back, and then she’s off, and Steve is left standing alone on her porch.

It’s quiet when he enters the trailer. He suspects Max is likely brooding in her room, as she often is nowadays. Steve doesn’t blame her. But he wishes she’d let him in. Let anyone in really.

He’s never been good at sitting still, and if Max isn’t interested in spending time with him right now, he figures he could clean the trailer. He likes to do this whenever he comes over because Mrs. Mayfield is often too tired or too drunk to do it herself, and he wants Max to feel like she lives somewhere safe and comfortable.

So he cleans.

He picks up empty beer bottles and washes the dishes and sweeps the linoleum in the kitchen. As the space becomes cleaner, so does his mind. And suddenly he’s not thinking about the fact that his dad likes to regularly beat him or that his mom hasn’t hugged him in over a decade. He’s thinking about which mop fluid is the better choice.

It’s easier this way. He’d rather not grapple with those big feelings tonight. He’s too tired for it.

“I hate when you do this?” Steve stops mopping and turns to see Max.

She’s standing outside her bedroom door, arms crossed tightly over her chest. She looks tense. Tenser than usual.

“Don’t worry, I’m almost done.”

She scoffs, and Steve can already tell that it’s going to be one of those nights.

Sometimes, Max is angry at the whole world, but the world isn’t listening to her, so she takes it out on whatever is closest to her.

Usually, on the nights when he’s here and she’s feeling like this, it’s him.

Usually, he can take it.

“It’s really fucking pretentious of you to assume that we can’t clean up after ourselves.”

“Max I’m just trying to help.”

“Well stop trying to help!” She yells at him, “I don’t want your help, don’t you get it?”

Steve swallows.

“Max-“

“Fuck you Steve, you aren’t my brother. You’re just some loser guy who hangs out with a bunch of kids because you can’t find anyone your own age who likes you.”

That one stings.

He can tell she regrets it as soon as she says it. And Steve knows she doesn’t mean it, not really.

But he can still hear his dad from earlier today. Thinks of how he got his ass kicked so he could be here tonight.

And he feels a little angry. But he doesn’t want to be angry. Not at Max.

“Okay.”

Max blinks. She won’t say sorry. She’s not good at it. But she almost looks like she might.

But Steve can’t do it. Not tonight.

“I’m-I’m just gonna go sit on the porch for a while….Let me know when you want dinner. I’ll order pizza.”

She doesn’t say anything as he walks out the door.

*****

Steve wishes he had a cigarette. Or alcohol. Or more aspirin.

His head is throbbing. So is half his face. It hurts to breathe.

He wonders if his ribs are cracked again.

“Harrington, is that you?”

Steve looks up and is surprised to see Eddie standing in front of him. It’s weird, seeing Eddie outside of school or at some shitty party. It’s hard to imagine that Eddie exists outside the constraints of Steve’s world, and Steve instantly feels stupid and selfish for thinking this. As if his understanding of Eddie shapes the other man’s whole existence.

“Eddie?”

Eddie offers him a small smile and a bow. His long curly hair is pulled back and he’s wearing sweats and hoodie that had some band logo on it.

He looks…cozy.

“What are you doing here?” Eddie asks, inching closer to where Steve is sitting on the bottom step of the trailer.

“Um, babysitting.”

Eddie looks around.

“Are the babies in the room with us?” He jokes and Steve feels himself smile a little.

“Actually, they’re a surly teenage girl who seems to want some space so…”

“You gave her the space?”

“Affirmative.”

Eddie smiles and then stops.

“Jesus man, what happened to your face?”

And then suddenly there are fingers on Steve’s face and he can’t stop himself from jerking away. His back slams into the step above him and he hears himself groan.

“Sorry! Sorry! That was…I shouldn’t have touched you without asking that was fucked up sorry.”

“It’s fine Eddie, I just, I wasn’t expecting it but it’s fine.”

They stew in the awkward silence for a moment.

“Well?” Eddie says finally.

Steve grimaces.

“I fell down some stairs.”

Eddie raises a brow

“What?”

“Nothing, nothing. It’s just….those stairs must have a pretty good right hook to nail you in the eye like that.”

Steve feels himself go cold all over.

“It’s fine.”

“Steve-“

“Eddie,” he says sharply, “Let it go.”

And thankfully, Eddie does. Steve immediately feels guilty for the bite in his voice. It’s not Eddie’s fault his father is a piece of shit, and it’s not Eddie’s fault that he’s kind enough to check up on Steve.

Frankly, it’s kinda nice to have someone ask about his well being. It happens so rarely.

“I heard you met the kids,” Steve says, trying to offer an olive branch.

Eddie’s face immediately lights up, and Steve feels something loosen in his chest.

Eddie has a nice smile.

“Yeah! They’re pretty cool man, well everyone except Wheeler. He seems like a dick.”

Steve lets himself laugh at that.

“He’s all posturing. The kid is gonna worship the ground you walk on in a couple of days. Guarantee it.”

Eddie nods in agreement.

“Looking forward to having them join the campaigns man. It’s cool Will was their DM, I’m looking forward to bouncing ideas off him when developing new stories. He seems like a pretty creative little dude.”

“He is.”

“Well I expect him to offer lots.”

Steve nods, happy to hear that his plan is working, that the kids will get to have an easier go at school.

They deserve that. One easy thing in their lives.

“Listen, Harrington-“

“You know, you can just call me Steve, right?”

Eddie blinks. “You sure?”

“Yeah man.”

“Okay-Steve, you know, if you ever want to like, hang out or talk. I’m…I’m like around man.”

It’s Steve’s turn to blink.

His silence immediately makes Eddie panic.

“Or-or not. I mean….you know…it’s not like we even really know each-“

“Eddie-“

“Like if you’re comfortable with it-“

“Eddie-“

“Or you don’t want to be seen with someone like-“

“Eddie!”

The other boy stops.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Hanging out sounds….nice. I’d like that.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Well, um, if you, if you wanted to, there’s this-“

“Steve.”

Steve turns around and see Max standing at the front door of the trailer. Her arms are still crossed, but she looks a little less tense than she did earlier. Steve allows himself a small pocket of hope.

“I’m-I’m hungry.”

Steve nods.

“Okay, I’ll order pizza. Pepperoni?”

She nods and then quietly, she adds, “and black olives.”

She turns back inside without another word, and Steve feels a smile creep onto his face.

Max hates black olives on her pizza, but Steve loves them.

It’s a kind gesture, one that he recognizes as an “I’m sorry.”

He turns back to Eddie, who is fidgeting with his hands, and looks a little nervous.

“What were you saying?” Steve asks him.

“Uh…nothing! Don’t worry about it. I’ll uh I’ll call you later. Have a nice night!”

And then he’s gone.

****

He and Max share an olive and pepperoni pizza while watching reruns of the Price is Right. Neither of them mentions the fight from earlier, the cruel words Max hurled his way. He knows she didn’t mean. Knows she’s sorry as he watches her pick off each olive on her slice of pizza.

Besides, she isn’t wrong. Not really. He is some loser who can’t seem to find anyone his own age to spend time with. Not really. Nancy and Jonathan grab lunch with him some weekends, but they aren’t really around that much, not with both of them applying to college and looking to get the hell out of Hawkins.

Steve feels a little jealous of them when they talk about their future college plans. They keep moving forward and Steve just feels…stuck.

“What are you thinking about so hard over there?” Max asks him.

“Oh you know, just wondering how expensive that boat is.”

“They’re guessing for a TV Steve.”

“….Right.”

“So…how did Lucas do, at tryouts, I mean.”

Steve looks over at her. She’s still staring at the screen, but he can tell its a feigned casualness.

“I’m sure he did well.”

“He told me you’d been training him.”

“I thought you weren’t speaking?”

“We broke up, doesn’t mean I’m going radio silence.”

“You know, Max, I’m sure-“

“I bet this trip to Maui is like, 10,000 dollars.”

Steve sighs. He knows when he’s being shut down. It’s not like he’s any better.

But he wishes, he wishes that Max didn’t feel like she had to carry this burden alone. Wishes she felt like she could talk to someone, anyone.

He ignores the voice in the back of his head that says he wishes that for himself too.

“I bet it’s more like 12,000.”

She smiles.

Chapter Text

Steve likes working at Family Video.

Sure, the pay is shit and Keith is regularly a creep, but it’s fun to work with Robin and have her teach him all about what she calls “true cinema.”

It’s also nice that he seems to be able to escape his parents now that’s he’s here full time. He manages to get himself moving and out the door so he can drop El and Robin off at school, and still finds he has a little time to wander around downtown before Hawkins really starts to wake up.

It’s peaceful. Steve’s missed peaceful. It’s a rare thing nowadays, where parts of his life include inter-dimensional space demons and torturous Russians, and the other parts are warped by cruel parents and a deep, aching loneliness.

“-I’m telling you Steve, if you just give it a chance, I think you could loveeeeeee The Exorcist if you’d just give it a chance.”

But sometimes, there’s this. These pockets of joy, where Robin begs Steve to see some random movie she’s become obsessed with that week, and Steve always does,

Though he tries to be as difficult about it as possible, just for fun.

Steve exaggeratedly rolls his eyes and proceeds with rewinding tapes.

“I don’t know, Robbie, sounds kinda freaky.”

“That’s the best part! It’s a masterpiece of horror. The critics will be eating their words in 30 years you just wait and see.”

“And what words will these critics be eating?”

Steve lifts his head and sees Eddie Munson in all his metal head glory. His hair is particularly wild today, Steve notices that Eddie’s nails are painted black and a little chipped at the tips.

It’s kind of endearing.

“Robin is trying to convince me to watch some creepy horror movie.”

He hears Robin make a guffaw sound and hides a smirk.

“Some creepy horror movie? The Exorcist isn’t just some creepy horror movie. It’s a masterpiece of cinema. Steve is just uneducated.”

Eddie’s eyes widen. “You’ve never seen The Exorcist?”

“Why is this so shocking to everyone? Do I seem like a guy who watches a lot of horror films? Also it came out when I was like, 7?”

“A pitiful excuse,” Robin huffs.

“Hate to say it, but Buckley’s right man. It’s like, incredible.”

“What do you mean you ‘hate to say it-‘“

“Focus, Robin. Harrington hasn’t seen The Exorcist, and he works at a video rental store. That’s a pretty serious transgression.”

It’s odd, Robin and Eddie teaming up to “help” Steve Harrington. He wonders what his sixteen year old self would have thought of this.

Probably act like a prick like you always did, he thinks to himself.

“Well that settles it, Harrington’s place, 8 PM tonight. I’ll bring the popcorn.”

Steve blinks.

“What?”

Robin rolls her eyes, “we are watching The Exorcist at casa el Harrington. Try to keep up.”

Steve gulps.

He doesn’t want to tell Robin no, but he also isn’t sure he wants to risk a run in with his dad, who seems to get crueler every time he sees Steve socialize with others and experience anything that resembles joy.

“-teve? Steve? Earth to Steve?”

“Sorry, what were you saying?”

Robin gives him a half smile, which she does when she is both endeared and exasperated with him, which happens frequently enough that he is able to easily recognize it.

“Munson here was wondering what kind of candy you like, I said you love Twizzlers, but he doesn’t believe me.”

“What’s wrong with Twizzlers?” Steve says, because Robin is right, he does like Twizzlers.

Eddie rolls his eyes, “Oh nothing, just that taste a whole lot like, I don’t know, plastic?”

“You know Munson, if you don’t have a little rat in your ear whispering that they taste like plastic, you will see they actually have a nice, cherry flavor and chewy texture that all ages can enjoy.”

Eddie blinks, and Steve wonders if maybe he turned on the sass a little too strong, but then Eddie smiles.

“Well, Twizzlers it is then.”

****
“You want me to do….what?”

Robin sighs over the phone, and Nancy tries not to bristle. She doesn’t know Robin well enough for her to be so huffy on the phone.

Okay, maybe, that is dramatic.

“I want you to bring Byers and yourself to Steve’s tonight.”

“Right…to do what, exactly?”

“Big kid movie night.”

Nancy blinks. She starts to twirl the phone cord around her finger. Jonathan sits at the kitchen table, eating a cookie her mom made for them. He looks intrigued at the conversation Nancy is currently having.

“What?”

Robin lets out another huff, and this time, Nancy finds herself rolling her eyes. She’s a little surprised Steve is so friendly with this girl, she’s so hyperactive, and attitude.

Then again, Steve does spend quite a bit of time with Dustin, so maybe that’s just the type of person he gravitates towards.

“You know Wheeler, aren’t you supposed to be like the smarted person in our class? I don’t think I am talking in code here.”

“Well, you kind of are, Robin,” Nancy says, and she can’t totally keep the edge out of her voice.

“Okay, okay, sorry. Steve says I can be too blunt, and I’m working on it. I want you and Jonathan to join us for a movie night at Steve’s house tonight. And I don’t really want the kids there because Steve rarely hangs out with anyone older than the age of fourteen, so I think we deserve a night where it’s just people over the age of seventeen. Plus, I feel like we should spend time together that doesn’t involve the potential end of the world. You know, normal shit.”

Nancy supposes Robin has a point. She doesn’t really see Steve anymore, not unless they’re having a crisis. She doesn’t know why either. He’s been nothing but nice to her and Jonathan since they started dating. Sometimes they get lunch together, but she rarely makes any sort of effort outside of that.

Jonathan even sees Steve more than her, with their weekly dinners. It’s almost funny when she thinks about it, how much they despised each other until two years ago. Now, they’re almost…family.

“Well? What do you think?”

Nancy looks at Jonathan, who has an eye brow raised in her direction, she mouths “Steve?”

Jonathan cracks a small smile and nods.

“When should we be there?”

******

Something feels….amiss in the universe.

Jim couldn’t say why. By all accounts, it had actually been a pretty good day. El and he had had crazy waffles for breakfast, and he was lucky enough to snag the last mug of good coffee at the station. No one was pulling any shenanigans. All in all, a pretty solid day for Hawkins, especially only a month after their latest end of the world crisis.

But, he feels uneasy. In a way he can’t completely explain or understand.

“Good morning Jim.”

Jim tenses, suddenly aware of what was causing his unease. He turns to see the aptly named Dick Harrington walking into the station.

He’s wearing a navy blue suit, his hair slicked back, and suede loafers. It’s uncanny, Jim thinks, how similar and how different Steve is from his father. They carry themselves in the same way, but where it reads like easy confidence in Steve, it comes across as extreme arrogance in his father. Dick smiles the same way Steve does, but his feels more like a sneer, without an ounce of the kindness he is used to experiencing from the younger Harrington.

“How can I help you, Dick?”

Harrington scowls. He knows Jim isn’t using this as a friendly nickname, it’s a small rebellion.

“I wanted to check on the status of the Mayor Kline case. I don’t know if you know this, but he owes me quite a bit of money, and I’d like to get it back sooner than later.”

Jim tries not to roll his eyes.

“Well Larry is gonna be the slammer for a while, and his assets are all tied up currently, so it’ll be awhile.”

Dick doesn’t look happy. It’s not what he wanted to hear. Jim can’t say he feels too bad about it.

“It’s a lot of money, Jim. Anyway you could help me out?”

Jim snorts. Never once has he felt the urge to help Dick Harrington. In fact, after getting to know Steve, he thinks he’d get more joy actively plotting against this weasel of a man.

“Sorry, Dick, protocol is protocol.”

“I don’t think you understand, I gave Kline $15,000 dollars. If it’s not being invested, I need it back.”

“I do understand, but I can’t circumvent the system.”

He could. He just doesn’t want to. Not for this asshole.

Jim watches as Dick curls his hands into tight fists.

“You know, Jim, I heard you have a daughter now.”

Jim feels himself tense.

“I don’t see how that has to do with any-“

“I heard that Steve babysits her quite a bit.”

Jim feels his own hands tighten into fists.

“I still fail to see how this is relevant to our current conversation.”

“Well, with a 15K loss, I’ll likely need to have Steven come on to the company to help me make up the loss. No more time for little Hopper.”

Jim tries not to seethe.

“Are you threatening to keep your son from my daughter if I don’t help you get your money back immediately?”

“I’m not threatening anything Jim.”

Dick offers another seer and turns to walk out of the station, “I’m looking forward to hearing from you soon Jim.”

Flo doesn’t ask why his mug is shattered when she returns from lunch.