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“Alright. Dustin, you have Lucas?”
“Yeah, we’re good.”
Steve knocked on the door before opening it. The kids passed him, Dustin supporting Lucas, who had sprained his ankle, and Max, quietly thanking him. He nodded, shutting the door softly. Mike and Will came out from the dining room with Joyce lagging behind, just watching once she realized nobody was badly hurt. The house filled with the sound of questions, stories, and the laughter that only comes after hours of terror. Steve hung by the door, hands clasped on the straps of his backpack. Now that the kids were safe, he could only think of the others; Robin, Nance, Jonathan, and Hopper were all still out. He knew he needed to stick to the plan, but every inch of him was screaming at him to go. The keys were still in his pocket. Everyone at the house was out of harm’s way. He could get to them so quickly.
He came back to the present. It was quieter. The kids had gone into the dining room. He could hear them discussing something in hushed voices. Probably another break-neck plan that Steve would protest but eventually be dragged into. He felt a pang in his chest. He could still hear the echo of Lucas’ voice, crying out for help. Dustin and Max had immediately ran back to help him. Steve ran a hand over his face, feeling a chill rush over him. He had almost lost them. Again. They trusted him and he was barely able to do anything.
His chest felt tight. He needed air. Feeling light-headed, Steve yanked the door open and stumbled a few steps onto the front porch before sinking onto the steps. He pulled off his backpack, not caring where it landed. It was going to consume him. This aching pain in his chest. He ran his hand over it, trying to slow his racing heart. His throat was dry. The fear in their faces, looking to him for help.
A hand touched his shoulder, making him jump.
“Oh, sorry!” Joyce said. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“It’s okay.” Steve cleared his throat. “Everything alright?”
“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine. I got them some snacks and water and we got Lucas an ice pack.” Joyce sat down next to him. She kept her gaze focused on her hands, resting in her lap.
“Good.” He brushed some hair out of his face. “That’s good.”
They sat in silence for a moment.
“The others? Have you heard from them?”
Joyce gave him a sideways glance. “They’re okay. A few hitches, but nothing they can’t handle.”
Steve nodded, his jaw tensing. What did she mean by hitches? With everything going on, they couldn’t risk anything going wrong. He should go. But if he showed up and they had it handled, they would think he didn’t trust them. So he should stay. But they could-
“You seem like you have a lot going on up there,” Joyce said gently. She was looking at him now.
“What? Oh, I’m just worried about them.”
“Seems like you’re worried about a lot of people.”
Steve looked at her curiously. “What do you mean?”
Joyce looked at him pointedly. She tipped her head toward the house. “The kids. The others. You’re always there to help, but it doesn’t seem like anyone’s there to help you.”
“That’s- no that’s not true. I mean, I look after the kids, but if I ever need help they have my back.”
She gave him that, but she wasn’t going to let him off that easily. She put a hand on his shoulder, leaning and trying to catch his eye.
“But it’s a lot for anyone to handle. I can only imagine everything you’ve gone through. You’ve done everything you can to keep those kids safe. You’ve done an amazing job.”
Steve grimaced, turning his head away and squeezing his eyes shut.
“And after everything, those kids have someone to turn to,” Joyce continued. She had heard enough about Steve to know that his parents were nowhere near the type of parents he needed or deserved. Her heart broke for him, seeing how much pain he was in and not knowing how to let it out. It reminded her of when Will was infected by the Mind Flayer. The tortured look in his eyes as he couldn’t explain what he was fighting. Even though Steve wasn’t looking at her, she knew that he had the same look. He hid it so well from the kids that they had no idea. But she wouldn’t be able to miss it even with her eyes closed.
Steve felt her hand leave his shoulder and begin rubbing slow circles on his back. His eyes stung and he tried to fight the tears back. His father’s voice, berating him, mocking him when the tears just wouldn’t stop, thundered through his mind like a freight train.
“I’m right here,” Joyce murmured. It broke him.
He pressed his fist into his mouth, bending until his head was almost on his knees. His shoulders shook with silent tremors. Shame rushed over him, but he couldn’t stop. He choked on his breath. Joyce continued softly speaking to him, telling him it was alright, reminding him that she was there, saying that he could let it out, that she was proud of him. Each word washed over him, lapping at the wounds that were cut into his chest. Her hand shifted between rubbing his back and smoothing his hair, a feeling he couldn’t remember experiencing before.
Eventually, his breathing began to even. He felt like he’d run a marathon. All of his energy had drained from him, leaving tracks on his cheeks. He sat up slightly and, with the back of his hand, he swiped at his face, drying it brusquely. He hadn’t even cried so much when he and Nance had broken up. But then, he had been in his car outside the party. Anyone could have seen. And the fears that had shaken him then felt like a breeze now. And, sitting on the porch, the only things watching were the trees.
He noticed that Joyce was still rubbing circles on his back. He shut his eyes again for a second, gathering himself.
“Thank you,” he rasped, his throat still painful.
“Of course. You deserve love just as much as everyone else.”
Steve would’ve started crying again if he had any tears left. Instead, he stood, walking a few steps and shaking out his arms. He stomped his feet a few times, bringing feeling back to them. With one last quick breath, he turned back toward the house. Joyce was standing, watching him with a hint of tears in her own eyes. Steve was still a kid, too. She felt horrible that he had to deal with so much, even though she was grateful he was there to help.
“Ready to go back in? I’m sure they have some crazy plan,” Joyce said with a wry grin.
Steve scooped up his backpack. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
Joyce opened the door and stopped suddenly. Dustin was standing in the doorway, hand raised like he was about to ask a question. He froze, looking between the two of them, taking in Steve’s red eyes, and whatever he was going to say faded away. Without a word, he stepped forward and bear hugged Steve.
Steve huffed out a laugh, hugging him back.
“Love you, Steve,” Dustin said, his voice muffled in Steve’s shoulder.
“Love you too, kid.”