Breathe, Desperately

by myosotisa

Summary:

It's the first week of July in the summer before you go to college and you're bored to tears. You get a job at the movie theater in the new mall to pass the time, but a bunch of kids you know use that as an excuse to turn you into an accomplice as they illegally sneak into movies without buying tickets. And they have your friend (and crush) Steve Harrington in on it too. Oh well, at least it could be worse?

You find out it definitely is a whole lot worse.

[Continuation of The Rabbit and the Hair. Reading the other parts is not required to understand, but content from other works will be referenced.]

Chapter 1

Friday, June 28th, 1985 - Starcourt Mall

 

The crackle of static. Cottontail, come in. Cottontail, do you read me?

 

Ripping open the drawer below the counter, you scramble to turn down the volume of the radio. Taking a second to look rapidly around the lobby, you duck under the counter and press the call button, your voice a quiet hiss. “Not really a great time, Popeye.”

 

Your comment goes ignored. Cottontail, package incoming.

 

“You’ve got to be shitting me.”

 

Pushing the antenna of the radio closed with your palm, you set the radio back in the drawer and slam it shut with a huff. “God damn kids,” you mutter, flipping the sign on the glass to [On break, be back soon.] “Why can’t they just buy tickets like normal fucking people?” You push out of the box office, letting the door slam behind you as you walk off towards the back corner of the theater. “Do their parents not give them an allowance or something?”

 

You've barely made it to the entrance to the back hallways before you hear the rhythmic knocking of a knuckle on the metal door. You yank it open before they’re finished.

 

“Are you kidding me?” Lucas whispers, throwing his hands up in defeat. “What’s the point of a tap code if you interrupt it?”

 

“There is no point!” You whisper-yell back, really struggling to keep your cool. “Now shut up and do whatever the hell you idiots came here to do.”

 

“Geez, what’s got you so mad?” Mike mutters as Max, Lucas, and Will push past you into the hallway.

 

Max immediately tries to stop him, “Mike, will you-”

 

“Wheeler,” you cut her off and he spins to face you as soon as he hears the cold tone of your voice. Lucas and Will glance at each other nervously while Max looks on amused. “If you do not get out of my face right now, not only will I call the mall cops, I will also personally phone sweet Karen and make it so your ass never sees the light of day again, do you hear me?”

 

His eyes wide, his mouth slightly open, he just starts nodding. But that isn’t good enough. “I said, do you hear me?”

 

“Yes, yes, I hear you.” Deciding he looked sufficiently afraid of you, you give him a smile.

 

“Good." You aim a wink at Will and Max specifically. "Now get out of here.”

 

And the group goes running off toward their theater of choice, giggling the whole way. All you could do was roll your eyes and trudge your way back to the box office.

 

Working at the theater in Starcourt Mall definitely hadn’t been in your plans for this summer. In reality, you’d planned to do a whole lot of nothing. But by the middle of June, you were crying tears of boredom. And Steve’s dad was forcing him to get a job. Nancy and Jonathan were working internships at the Post. A couple of your other friends, both graduated and not, had also gotten summer jobs or gone on trips with their families. They all spent a bit of time with you when they could, but even spread between them all, it wasn’t enough to fill your days.

 

So you’d applied to work at the movie theater in the new mall around the same time Steve had applied at Scoops Ahoy. You’d both gotten hired, pretended to be excited for each other, and tried to see if you could manage to get the same days off.

 

It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough for the summer. At least until you had to leave for school.

 

“A bit of a long break, huh?”

 

Oh great, another manbaby you wanted to maim.

 

“Iannnnnn.” You drawl, pasting on a smile as you turned away from where your hand was on the handle to the box office door. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

 

“I need a reason to visit my favorite new employee?” He leans against the doorframe, crossing his skinny arms over his chest. He has that smug smile on his pale face, always looking like the cat that got the canary.

 

“You do on days you’re not supposed to be working?” Trying so hard not to cringe, you pretend to shift on your feet while subtly moving as far away from him as you can.

 

“I’m a manager,” he replies, sounding so self important you want to vomit. As if to cement the fact, he adjusts his name tag that says [Ian Robinson, Assistant Manager] and the little shit part of you wants to correct him by saying ‘Assistant Manager’ so badly. “I’m always working.”

 

“Sounds tiring,” you humor, looking anywhere but at him, trying to plot a way to get out of this interaction.

 

“So, uh, where’d you go?” He sticks his hands in the pockets of his pants that are way too loose on him, looking about as fake casual as a person can get.

 

It takes everything in you to keep calm. “The ladies room,” you answer, somehow managing another smile. “Is - is that alright?”

 

“Of course, honey,” Jesus, he makes your skin crawl. “Just wanted to check in on things, is all.”

 

You try to laugh and hope it doesn’t come out too forced. Not that he would've noticed, he probably didn’t hear any word that came out of your mouth that wasn’t singing his praises. “Everything's just dandy here!” And luckily, a couple was approaching the window to buy tickets. “Oh, just one minute!” You call, bringing his attention to them. “Duty calls.”

 

And you pull open the door, flashing him another smile before he can say anything else, and shut it in his face. You sigh, patting the door once as if hoping that would make it stay closed, before you walk up to the window.

 

The couple was very obviously high and didn't even know the name of the movie they were trying to see, but they had money and you had tickets, so what did you care. You spent the next few hours doing much of the same, waiting for the last showing of the night.

 

As soon as the movie started, you would be free to go. The ushers and snack counter had to stay until the last movie was over to clean and close - but you were off as soon as the last ticket was sold. Working box office had its perks.

 

When one of the ushers closes the door to Theater 3, you put up the [Closed, please come again!] sign and collect your things in record time. Ian, or whoever was shift lead, would be by to count the drawer and lock the office (something about part timers not being allowed to do the final tally, according to corporate), so you can just slide across the lobby to the snack counter.

 

"Evenin' ma'am," your friend and coworker, Laura, put on her best southern drawl as you approached. "What can I do ya for?"

 

Barely holding in your amusement, you place both hands on the counter, leaning forward in your urgency. "Bucket of 'corn, and fast."

 

She nods, grabbing a large container and stepping toward the popcorn machine. "Trying to get out of here before Ian comes by again?" She asks, knowing the answer.

 

"I don't know, I think you could be louder about it," you hiss, looking over both of your shoulders to make sure he isn't around. "But yes."

 

"I’m telling you, you just gotta make him think you're taken," she explains as she shovels the last cup of slightly stale popcorn into the bag and switches over to the butter pump. "He'll leave you alone if there's another man."

 

You roll your eyes, moving to rest your forearms on the counter instead of your hands. "How fucked is that? It's not enough for a girl to say no, they only respect another man laying claim."

 

Laura was back and setting your lukewarm, buttered popcorn on the counter between you. "Just how it works," she shrugs. It made you a little mad that she was just okay with it, but you had always been one for rocking the boat and acknowledged not everyone was that way. "Now take your bounty and get out of here. Live for the rest of us."

 

"You're a doll! See you later," you reply with a grin, taking hold of the paper bag and briskly walking out toward the rest of the mall.

 

It's mostly empty by this time of night, only really employees getting ready to close up and the odd teen staying out past curfew. A couple of the stores were already closed, their lights off and the gates down. You pass almost no one as you make your way across the food court and towards the neon sign of Scoops Ahoy.

 

"Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in," Steve folds his arms over his chest, sounding bored but not able to keep the smile off his face as you cross the threshold. He's wearing that stupid little sailors uniform and hat, and you struggle not to laugh every time you see it.

 

"Actually," you walk right up to the counter and set the bag on it just hard enough that a few kernels roll out, "I'm the cat. And this, my friend, is what I have dragged in."

 

He moans outrageously at the sight, his hand over his chest. "You are an angel." And luckily he's too busy starting to dig in to notice how the praise visibly raised your blood pressure.

 

A girl pushes out of the side door, looking and sounding annoyed. "What the hell was that noise - Oh!" She pauses as she makes eye contact with you, hovering in the doorway as she looks between you and Steve.

 

"Ah," Steve began talking, his mouth full of popcorn, "yes." He stops to swallow, then introduces you first. "And this is Robin, she also works here."

 

You recognize her from school, you knew that at least. She was a year behind you and Steve, so you'd never crossed paths, but you'd seen her around. The short haircut, freckles, and unique style of jewelry is hard to forget.

 

"Ah, so this is who I've been hearing so much about," her smile is sly and you don't miss the way Steve immediately turns on her, his eyes shooting daggers. Which only seems to amuse her more.

 

Leaning one hand on the counter and placing the other on your hip, you raise your eyebrows at the two of them. "Only bad things, I hope."

 

Her smile grows, looking even more pleased with your answer. "Oh, just the worst."

 

"I regret this already," Steve says to no one in particular, cradling the bag of popcorn to his chest as he looks at the ceiling. "You two," he swings his finger back and forth to point at you both, "this is my nightmare."

 

And you could've kept teasing him about that for a while longer, and Robin looked prepared as well, but you had bigger fish to fry.

 

"So how many times are you going to let those kids run rampant in the innards of the mall?"

 

Robin snorts a laugh, leaning against the doorframe as Steve wrinkles his nose in disgust. "One, never say innards again." Even just saying the word made him visibly shiver, to your joy. "Two, it's not like I'm begging them to sneak through the back."

 

"No, you just don't know how to say no to them." You roll your eyes, reaching over the counter to grasp a handful of popcorn.

 

"I know how to say no to them!" He cries through another mouthful, then looks at Robin to back him up. "I say no to them, you've heard me."

 

"I've heard you," she confirms, "but then they let out a chorus of 'Come on, please Steve!' and you're caving like dry sand!" That brought a laugh out of you which only seemed to delight Robin more. "Face it Harrington, you have the backbone of a wet noodle.”

 

“I do not!” He looks to you for backup this time but you just shrug, having way too much fun at his expense. He leans back with a pout, shoving another fist full of popcorn into his mouth.

 

“Besides,” you reach into your bag and pull out the beige receiver, waving it back and forth in front of you, “I’m pretty sure that’s not why they gave us these.”

 

Robin steps out of the doorframe towards you both, her eyebrows drawn together in confusion. “Wait, you both have walkie talkies tuned into child radio?”

 

Both of you conveniently decide to ignore that question. "I'm pretty sure,” Steve continues, setting the bag back on the counter and then rolling his eyes when Robin immediately dips her hand into it, “they only gave them to us so they could annoy us at all hours of the day.”

 

“It’S fOr EmErGeNcIeS,” you cry, mocking Mike’s self-important tone. “Like what, the GAP ran out of striped t-shirts?”

 

This time Steve snorts. “Good one. How do they even get out of there anyway? They don’t come back out this way when the movie is over.”

 

“They probably just walk out, same as everybody else,” Robin interjects, now leaning against the ice cream cooler.

 

You nod to agree, “it’s not like anyone is checking for your tickets after the movie is over. The ushers just want everyone to get the hell out so they can sweep and go home.”

 

“Speaking of going home,” Steve announces a bit louder, clapping his hands together in front of him with his eyes on Robin, “it’s about closing time.”

 

“I call inventory!” And she’s rushing back through the door in seconds.

 

Steve swears under his breath, rolling his head back toward you with a pained look. “She always does that. Leaves me to clean the front.”

 

“Oh, you poor baby,” you coo at him, leaning further over the counter in his direction. He rolls his eyes dramatically and takes one last mouthful of popcorn before turning it toward you. You wave it off, sliding it back. “Keep it. You want me to wait up?”

 

“Nah,” he breathes out, ripping the hat off to drag a hand through his hair, “don’t know how long this is gonna take.” His face lights up in another smile as he makes eye contact. “See you tomorrow?”

 

“Yeah,” the damn butterflies in your stomach need to calm down before you suffocate them with food. “See you then, Pretty Boy.”

Chapter 2

Saturday, June 29th, 1985 - Your House, West Hawkins

 

Why did Steve always knock on your door as if it was life or death that you answered it as soon as he showed up?

 

Already annoyed as hell, you yanked the door open to glare at him. He was frozen, one hand still raised where he was knocking and the other tucked into the pocket of his jacket. There were those stupid sunglasses on his face from the trip you’d taken north last month and he was wearing those jeans that fit him like the devil and you didn’t sleep well last night and you were seething.

 

“Afternoon, Rabbit.” He says with a grin, his other hand also tucking into the opposite pocket of his jacket. He obviously hadn’t caught on that his life was currently in danger yet.

 

“Steve,” your tone is as cold as ice and his eyebrows raise immediately. “If you don’t stop knocking on my door like that every single fucking time you come here, I’m going to skin you alive.”

 

“Woah, woah, woah!” He cries, his hands coming up between you in defense as one of his feet step back. “What’s got you all riled up?”

 

“Steve.” Another unsaid warning behind the name.

 

“Alright, alright,” he moves the sunglasses up into his hair, looking sheepish. Voice low and serious, he checks in. “Really, are you okay?”

 

You slump hard against the door, locking your elbow over the handle to keep yourself upright. “Just… Come inside.” Leaving the door fully open behind you, you drag your feet across the foyer and into the living room. You hear Steve shut and lock it behind him and barely see him enter the room behind you before you flop face first onto the cushions of your couch.

 

“Ah,” he says on the approach, a smile evident in his voice. “I see we are in faceplant territory.” A murmured agreement of his assessment was muffled further by the fabric and you felt the couch dip next to your head. Before you could look up, his hand was resting on the back of your head, soothingly dragging down your neck to your shoulder blades and then back up. “Talk to me, Rabbit. What’s got you so wound up?”

 

Rotating your shoulder under you, you roll over so your face is upright. He uses his hands to lift your head and shoulders so he can move under you, placing your head back down on his thigh. You try to keep your brain from getting distracted by how close your head was to his lap while he goes back to running a hand through your hair, attention solely on you.

 

“My dad called a couple days ago,” you admit softly, moving your feet so they were near your butt and you could lean your knees on the back of the couch. If Steve had any reaction to that, he didn’t let it show, so you continue. “Asking about the mail and how the house was and all that, the usual.” You chew on the inside of your lip for a second, moving your gaze from where he was looking down at you to the ceiling. “Then he started asking about college and if I had decided on a major yet. I told him I hadn’t, because I really didn’t even need to figure it out until the end of my first year. Then he goes off on this tangent about how irresponsible it is to wait. Saying shit like ‘If you insist on going to college instead of doing your duty to find a husband, the least you can do is pick a major that isn’t too manly. You should get a degree in literature or some other arts degree, something that will make you look distinguished to the right man.’”

 

“Jesus, I’m gonna puke,” Steve pulls a fist up to his mouth as if he was holding himself back from doing so.

 

At the encouragement, your explanation goes from defeated to growing in anger. “I know right! Like how fucking disgusting is that? I still remember his face when I told him I was thinking about getting a STEM degree and he looked at me like I had grown an extra head. ‘Men aren’t attracted to an educated woman.’ Like he’s still in the 20s or whatever.”

 

“He’s a prick, plain and simple. And a dinosaur,” you nodded enthusiastically to each point, crossing your arms over your stomach and looking back to the ceiling. His hand leaves your hair and moves to rest on your shoulder. “But you know that. And you weren’t upset about this yesterday, at least, it didn’t seem like it.”

 

“Yeah… It didn’t really bother me before, I was expecting it from him.”

 

“So why now? Not that you don’t have any reason to be upset, because you definitely do. But what happened to bring it back up?”

 

A sigh leaves you, your chest deflating as you instinctively bring your right hand to start twisting the ring on the middle finger of your left hand. “I guess there’s just been this creep at work -”

 

“What?” His whole body flinches beneath you, his head moving to hang directly over yours. “Who?!”

 

“Ian Robinson,” you supply quietly, feeling embarrassed to let a guy like him get to you.

 

Steve’s face contorts into a grimace. “That beanpole, golf player that was a senior when we were freshmen?”

 

The thought made a soft laugh come to you. “I don’t think he plays golf anymore, he looks like he hasn’t seen the sun in years.”

 

The mental picture seemed to amuse Steve as well. “He works with you at the theater?”

 

“He’s an assistant manager. And feels super superior about it, even though it really is not something to brag about.”

 

“So what’s he doing?” Steve brings the conversation back around to what had originally made him jump. “You said he was being a creep.”

 

You sat up with a groan, rotating so you were sitting on the couch next to him. You continue to spin your ring without thinking. “He just keeps hanging around me and saying I’m his ‘favorite employee’ and calling me honey and stuff. It’s really gross. And I tried to let him know I wasn’t interested but it’s like he doesn’t even hear me talk.” Your head tilts back to rest against the cushion. “He gives off those same vibes as my dad, the ‘Women are Objects to Attain’ vibes.”

 

“Sounds like a grade-A douchebag.” Your head slowly rocked in a nod before you turned it toward him. “So what are you gonna do? You can’t just let him do whatever he wants around you the whole summer.”

 

“I don’t know.” Returning your head to center, you look out over the empty dining room next to the living room. “Laura said the same thing happened to her when she started and no matter how many times she said no, he wouldn’t let up. The only way she could get him off her back was bringing her boyfriend by when he was working.”

 

“Ah,” Steve crosses his arms over his chest in your peripheral, sounding like he suddenly understood. “Won’t accept a no unless it’s a ‘no, I’m taken.’”

 

“Exactly, which is so fucking stupid.” Your hands come up in front of you, tensing into fists in frustration before they drop against your thighs. “And I don’t exactly have a boyfriend to parade around, so I guess I’m just doomed until I quit.”

 

A thoughtful hum was his only reply, so you glance over at him. “Well, he won’t exactly know if someone is or isn’t your boyfriend, right?”

 

“What are you getting at?”

 

His face lights up, smile mischievous. “Is he working tonight?”

 

“Uhhh,” you wrack your brain for an answer, “I think so?”

 

“So, and feel free to shoot me down if this is crazy, how about we go on a fake date to the movies tonight so he can see us together?” Your jaw could have hit the floor with the rate it dropped. “Then, by Laura’s theory, he’ll leave you alone, right?”

 

“Yes?” It comes out as a question, your brain struggling to process what he was suggesting. “So, wait, you want to go on a fake date with me so my manager will leave me alone?” He nods, looking quite pleased with himself for the idea. “How would that even work?”

 

“Well,” he leaned forward conspiratorially, almost as if he was waiting for you to ask. “We get all dressed up, show up to the movies together, make sure he sees us acting all lovey-dovey before we go inside, and then: problem solved!”

 

“Lovey-dovey?” You couldn’t keep the amused tease out of your tone as you took in his smile.

 

“Yeah! I’ll do all the gentlemanly stuff and PDA and everything.”

 

You snort, unable to help yourself. “So business as usual then?”

 

“What?!” His objection was pitchy, scandalized. “No!”

 

“Steve,” you turn toward him, placing one hand on his knee as you level him a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry to be the one to break this news to you, but you are a very touchy person.”

 

“You’ve never complained about it before,” he grumbles, sliding his sunglasses back down over his eyes as he pouts.

 

“Because there’s nothing wrong with it! I just don’t know how we would convince him that we’re together beyond what we already do.”

 

(There was some irony there. Somewhere.)

 

His answering sideways smile made your heart kick up. “Trust me, Rabbit. Prepare for a Steve Harrington special.”

 

Your eyebrows were sky high, struggling to hold in a laugh. “Does that line actually work on girls?”

 

Then he was pouting and grumbling again. “Yeah, sometimes.” You let the laugh loose then, which made him smile despite himself. Pushing off the couch arm to his feet, he checks the time on his wrist watch. “Okay, go get ready, I’ll be back to pick you up in 2 hours.”

 

You couldn’t believe you were going to do this, but it also filled you with a giddy excitement you couldn’t deny. Whether it was because of the ruse or because of the idea of going on a date with Steve, you refused to determine. Before you could stop yourself, you were asking him, “any outfit requests?”

 

It was his turn to spin towards you with his eyebrows up to his hairline. You were surprised at yourself too, but you tried hard to keep your reaction contained beyond the way your face warmed in embarrassment. “Uh,” he starts eloquently, “a sundress? It’s going to be hot out tonight.”

 

Your brain immediately dropped into the gutter of sinful things that could occur in a dark theater with Steve while you were wearing a dress. But this was a fake date, and you needed to reign in your hormones before they destroyed you.

 

“Deal. See you in 2 hours!”

 

---

 

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Was all you could say as you looked at yourself in the mirror.

 

You’d done as asked. And, honestly, you felt amazing. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d put legitimate effort into your appearance. You’d done the bare minimum for graduation considering you hadn’t even wanted to go. But now, preparing for your fake movie date with Steve, you felt… hot.

 

Putting on some finishing touches, you heard the telltale sounds of his arrival. The knock at the door was brief, respectful. The exact opposite from the knock you'd complained about this morning. You could’ve cried.

 

Absolutely prepared for some witty back and forth about how awkward this was going to be, you could not have adequately anticipated the reality of what happened when you trotted down the stairs and opened your front door.

 

Steve Harrington. A long sleeve shirt pushed up to his elbows. Those same jeans that fit him like the devil. His hair perfectly puffed on top of his head. A bouquet of white flowers in his hand. Staring at you with wide eyes and a flushed face.

 

You were sure you looked very much the same. Stuck in a stalemate, neither of you could move until a dog barking down the street brought you both back to reality.

 

“Damn, Rabbit.” The flowers fall to his side as he runs a hand through his hair, looking down and off to the right as he leans against the door frame. “I told you to dress up nice, not knock a man out.”

 

Your face was on fire. “Come on,” you couldn’t even look at him as you shuffled your feet. “Don’t make fun of me.”

 

“I'm not! I mean, you could’ve at least given me a warning before you took the kill shot. I think I’m dying over here.”

 

“Steve, seriously,” you roll your eyes, unable to keep the embarrassed grin off your face.

 

“I’m serious, babe, I think I might have a bloody nose or brain damage or something.” He moves to wipe the back of his hand against his nose and then looks at it as if to make sure there was no blood.

 

“Brain damage for sure,” you confirm, tapping your foot against his pant leg. “You’re really laying it on thick, huh, Pretty Boy? Is this the ‘Steve Harrington special’?”

 

He pushes himself backwards off the door frame with a hiss, spinning away from you to rub a hand over his mouth. “Calling me Pretty Boy right now? Of all times?”

 

“What’s wrong, handsome?” You cross your arms over your chest in defiance as he turns back to you, his fingertips still resting above his upper lip. “Can dish it out but can’t take it?”

 

He was a few feet away now, standing on the walkway leading up to your house, putting his hands on his hips and looking at you like he was losing his mind. “I’m really holding myself back right now, Rabbit.”

 

The tone of his voice made your stomach drop like you were on a rollercoaster. “Holding yourself back…? From - from what?”

 

Running another hand through his hair, he cocked his hip out as his lips pressed into a tight line. He looked like he was having an internal war and you didn’t know what the opposing factions were.

 

Then he shook his head, looking away. “Nothing. Come on, we got work to do.” He waves you to follow, turning back toward his car with a slight shuffle to his feet.

 

The whiplash of his attitude feels like a physical slap to the face. It took you several seconds to recover from what felt like the top of a rollercoaster to being slammed backwards on your ass, knocking the air out of you.

 

“Okay, yeah, sure,” you say, mostly to yourself as you turn to lock the door behind you. “Work.”

 

By the time you made it to the car, Steve was holding your door open for you and avoiding your eye contact. “Thanks, I guess.” You slide into the seat and he shuts it behind you, spinning his keys in hand as he crosses around the car to his own seat. When he sat down and started the ignition, he finally looked over at you. “Gonna do your passenger side job and put some music on?” He quotes with the corner of his mouth upturned, as if the last few minutes hadn’t even happened.

 

“Actually, no.” He pulls back at the hostility, hands on the steering wheel as you turn on him. “What the hell is your problem?”

 

“My problem?” It comes out of him as a breathless laugh.

 

“Yeah,” you cross your arms over your chest again to steady yourself against the whirlwind of emotions brewing inside you. “One minute everything is fun and banter and then all the sudden you’re acting like a kicked puppy.”

 

It’s his turn to look at you, incredulous. “A kicked puppy? Really?”

 

“Yes, a kicked puppy.” He taps his palm against the steering wheel, leaning his head back as far as he could. “Look, if you don’t wanna do this, that’s fine-”

 

“No, no,” he drags his hand down his face in exasperation, “that’s not it. At all. I want to do this.”

 

“Then what?!” Your hands turned out in a question, your eyes begging him for an answer. His head tilts toward you and he looks at you like he’s in pain. 

 

But he takes too long to say anything. “Y’know what, it’s not worth it.” You open the door and pull yourself out of the car, slamming it behind you.

 

“Wait.” You heard him say, which you ignore as you circle the car back toward your house. “Hey, wait!” The car door opens behind you but you keep walking. He calls your name, again ignored, but you hear his footsteps approaching from behind. “Please, will you please just wait a second?”

 

“What?!” He flinched back, surprised that you had turned toward him so quickly. His fear hits you like a stab to the chest, and it lets out some of the hot anger stuck there as you slightly deflate.

 

“Will you, will you just let me come inside? I can try to explain.” He had one hand tucked into his back pocket. Seeing him now, in the glow of your porch light, he looks like he’s being torn in two.

 

It hurt, but not enough to take the wind out of your sails. “I was actually excited for tonight, you know?” Your voice catches, betraying your emotions, which makes him clench his jaw tight as he watches you. “I was happy with how I looked. I couldn’t wait to see the dumb look on Ian’s face when he saw me looking like this, being with you.” Your voice dips on the word ‘you’ and you try to reel back in the tears threatening to spill out. “And I come out here, and you’re standing there looking like the star of a movie, saying all those suave things to me. You really made me feel like a million bucks, y’know? Like - like you made me feel desired, which I didn’t even know was possible!” You laugh then, almost hysterically, now feeling like you’re the one who was losing their mind. “But it was all just a part of the game, huh? Got caught up in following through on your promise and then remembered you weren’t even supposed to be playing yet?”

 

“No.” He finally spoke, his voice breaking as he accented the word with a slice of his hand. “No, that’s not it at all.”

 

“Then what is it Steve? Please, explain it to me.” A few traitorous tears slide out then, falling down your cheeks against your will.

 

Steve’s hand comes up to fist in his hair, looking like he was giving himself a pep talk before he let it loose, leaving the strands haphazard and out of place as he stares at the ground.

 

“Do you know how many times I’ve imagined showing up to your door with flowers?”

 

Your heart stops. And then kicks back on double time as you stare.

 

“It’s a lot, for the record. Probably an embarrassing amount, really.” He was still unable to look at you, gaze moving from the grass to looking up into the night sky. “And I told myself I was gonna keep my cool,” his eyes squeeze shut, his head still thrown back but it starts shaking side to side slowly, like he’s in denial. “I had this whole plan of everything I was gonna say and do. All the things I was gonna have to tell myself to remind me it was actually a fake date, it wasn’t real.” A dry laugh leaves him as he lowers his head again, finally meeting your eyes. You know for a fact that you look like a deer in headlights, completely unable to speak as he continues. “But then you opened the door.” He raises his hands as if that answered the entire question before letting them drop uselessly at his sides. “You opened the door, and I saw you, and it was like my entire brain turned to mush. Liquefied. Like it was gonna drip out of my nose and hit the concrete.”

 

That makes a small and nervous laugh tumble out of you, which brings a bittersweet smile to his face as he continues watching your reactions. He takes a cautious step forward and, when you don't move away, he takes another. “I forgot that it was a game. I forgot everything except that I was here with you and you looked like that and you were looking at me like that.” There is only a foot between the two of you now, and he stops there. “And remembering that we aren’t that way - that you don’t feel that way about me. That we were only doing this to get some creepy loser to leave you alone." He visibly winces. "It was like getting dunked in a tub of ice.”

 

His monologue trailed off there and you desperately wanted to say something but it was like your mouth had turned to rubber. Neither of you had really said anything concrete but it also seemed like you were both saying the same thing. You weren’t positive, but maybe it was worth the risk.

 

Maybe.

 

Why was this so scary?

 

It didn’t help that he was looking at you like he was on the edge of a cliff and you were the only thing that could save him. Like he was just begging you to put him out of his misery, right there, on your sidewalk. But he isn’t impatient like you, you know that. While you had only barely given him a chance to talk in his car, you knew that he would stand there all night waiting for you if he had to.

 

You start to speak softly and he hangs on every word like you’re his salvation. “When you said… That you were holding yourself back.” He blinks twice, looking like that wasn’t anywhere close to what he was expecting you to say. “From what?”

 

He gravitated just a little bit closer, almost like he wasn’t even aware of it, but you were so hypersensitive to his presence it felt like a mile. “From deciding to screw the movie and just…”

 

You step closer this time on purpose, close enough to feel the heat radiating off of him. His eyes widen, glancing down and then back up to your face like he didn’t think you meant to do that. “Just… what?” You press, not sure if you wanted to know or if you needed to know.

 

There was a tense silence as you stared at each other. The summer air was humid-hot and you weren’t sure if you were sweating from that or from how fucking nervous you were. This was a very developed line in the sand that you were edging. It might as well have been a canyon for how terrified you were to be standing on the edge. He looked just as scared too, his Adam's apple bobbing as he visibly swallowed.

 

“I wanted to,” his voice was deeper, like the words were caught in his throat. You’re close enough that you can feel his exhale on your face and you didn’t know when you had gotten that close but you were there now and there was no way in hell you were backing down. His eyes close as he takes a deep breath, leaving you on the tip of the rollercoaster again. When his eyes open again, your mouth goes dry. “I wanted to take you back inside, press you up against a wall, and kiss you until you couldn’t even remember your own name.”

 

It was like he had poured molten lava directly into your stomach. Your answering exhale is shaky and you have to close your eyes before the way he’s looking at you turns you into a puddle on the ground. “And… And if I wanted you to do that?”

 

You hear his sharp inhale, no matter how silent he tries to make it. His voice is quiet and close when he speaks again. “Rabbit?” Fingertips brush against your cheek, feather light. You’re terrified to open your eyes, a concoction of excitement and nervous energy making your blood bubble in your veins. The trembling fingers trace up your cheekbone, arching over your ear and then trailing back down as his palm makes contact with your jaw. “Little Rabbit,” his voice is velvet soft, almost sing-songy, “open your eyes.”

 

You do. And Steve is right in front of you, his nose just an inch or two from touching yours. Your eyes meet and the smile that grows on his face is nothing short of heart wrenching, his fingers twitching against your jawbone. “Do you want me to?”

 

“Steve…” You breathe out, barely able to keep eye contact from how your heart was pounding.

 

“Yes?” He answers in kind, the tip of his nose brushing yours as his gaze was brought down and then he forced it back up.

 

There was no way you were going to be able to say the words. Never in a million years. Not with him making you feel like this. So you did the only thing you could do.

 

Your opposing hand to the one he had placed on you came up lightning fast and gripped the back of his neck, surging forward at the same time you pulled him in to press your lips to his.

 

It’s his turn to fumble, a surprised noise in his throat as you could practically feel his brain try to catch up to what was happening. And then he was kissing you back, his eyes blissfully closed as his hand tensed on your jaw. Your other hand came to grip the side of his shirt under his elbow and you stepped even closer, the front of your body meeting his.

 

A lot of movies describe the first kiss between 2 people that have feelings for each other as fireworks. Something big and bright and loud and sudden. This didn’t feel like that at all.

 

If you had to describe it, it felt like your body was slowly filling with warm honey. Waves of warmth spreading from every point you were making contact with him; loosening the tension in your muscles and quieting the static of your thoughts. Swirling into the pit of your stomach and sitting there heavy and hot. Sweet, tingling warmth dripping all the way down to your toes.

 

You’re light-headed, warm, fuzzy - couldn’t think of anything beyond the press of his lips on yours and how he held onto you like you’d turn to dust any second. Then his teeth just barely scrape your bottom lip and if you don’t pull away and breathe right now, you are going to pass out on the grass.

 

Pulling yourself just an inch away and gasping like you just surfaced from water, you feel him immediately press his forehead to yours. His thumb is a gentle pressure on your cheekbone as it moves back and forth. You open your eyes and he’s already watching you, the pupils in his brown eyes blown wide as his lungs recover with heavy breaths.

 

A strained laugh leaves you as you grip him just a little bit tighter. “Steve, what the hell are we doing?” His answering smile is downright devious.

 

“I don’t care.”

 

And then he pulls you back under.

Notes:

posted the first 2 chapters together because it goes RAPIDLY DOWNHILL FROM HERE. and by rapidly downhill i mean everyone gets traumatized for like 4 days straight.

and here's the kiss y'all asked for. never say i didn't give you anything.

let me know what you think!!

Chapter 3

Sunday, June 30th, 1985 - Starcourt Mall

 

If Steve was being honest, seeing Dustin walk into Scoops was a goddamn relief.

 

After the emotional rollercoaster that was last night, getting to see his stupid, grinning face again and do that stupid little handshake felt like normalcy. Felt like stability. He didn’t realize how much he’d relied on the dude until he was gone for a while. Plus, there was no doubt in his mind that Dustin wasn’t already getting into shit even after only being back for 1 day.

 

Sometimes, he really wished he was wrong about this stuff.

 

After hearing all about Dustin’s “perfect” girlfriend, and narrowly avoiding some leading questioning about both you and Robin, they were able to get to the matter of a goddamn Russian transmission the kid had somehow intercepted. And although it sounded crazy and outlandish and borderline suicidal, trying to translate it was something to do other than think. So why not? It wasn’t like it was actually going to turn into anything.

 

Until Robin got involved.

 

“I'm fluent in four languages, you know.”

 

Dustin’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. “Russian?”

 

“Ou-yay are-yay umb-day.” Robin said with a smirk.

 

And Steve laughed, thinking they’ve finally caught a lucky break.

 

Dustin seemed to think so too as he exclaimed, “holy shit!”

 

But Robin just looked even more disappointed than before. “That was Pig Latin, dingus.”

 

Steve tossed his empty banana peel at the younger, muttering a quick, “stupid.”

 

“But I can speak Spanish and French and Italian, and I've been in band for 12 years. My ears are little geniuses, trust me.”

 

Dustin and Steve shared a glance, unsure.

 

“Come on, it's your turn to sling ice cream, my turn to translate.” Robin pushed her way inside, not waiting for a confirmation as she sat down at the table.  “I don't even want credit. I'm just bored.”

 

The ding of the counter bell was the last tally in Robin’s column, so Steve put back on his silly little hat and pushed out into the world.

 

---

 

“The week is long, the silver cat feeds, when blue meets yellow in the west.”

 

Having just finished closing up Scoops, Steve, Robin, and Dustin were all on their way out of the mall. “I mean it just… It just can’t be right,” Steve threw his hands up in defeat.

 

Robin sent an annoyed look his way immediately. “It's right.”

 

“Honestly, I think it’s great news,” Dustin finally cut in, optimistic as always.

 

“How is this great news?” Steve said through a laugh, sounding defeated. “I mean, so much for being American heroes. It’s total nonsense.”

 

Dustin wouldn’t have it. “It’s not nonsense. It’s too specific. It’s obviously a code.”

 

“What do you mean, a code?”

 

The younger looked excited again, “Like a super secret spy code.”

 

That brought a scoff out of Steve. “That’s a total stretch.”

 

“I don’t know, is it?” Robin interrupted.

 

Steve looked at her like she had grown a second head. “You’re buying into this?”

 

“Listen, just for kicks, let’s entertain the possibility that it is a secret Russian transmission.” Steve rolled his eyes but didn’t stop her from continuing. “What’d you think they were going to say, ‘Fire the warhead at noon’?”

 

“Exactly,” Dustin looked back at Steve like ‘at least someone agrees with me’.

 

“And my translation is correct. I know that for sure, so… the silver cat feeds. Why would anyone talk like that unless they were trying to mask the meaning of their message?”

 

“Exactly.”

 

“And why would anyone mask the true meaning of their message unless the message was somehow sensitive?”

 

“Exactly,” Dustin repeated for the 3rd time, sounding so satisfied that Robin said it so he didn’t have to. Steve made a mocking face at him before Robin continued talking.

 

“So I guess that confirms your suspicion.”

 

“Evil Russians.”

 

“I can’t believe I’m about to agree with this strange child, but, yeah, totally evil Russians.” Steve couldn’t help but smile at her, if nothing else he could enjoy how excited they were about this.

 

“So how do we crack it?” Dustin asked, specifically at Robin.

 

Robin continued walking forward slowly, eyes focused on the hallway ahead as she shrugged.  “Well, I guess we translate the rest and hopefully a pattern emerges.”

 

Dustin started nodding, “A pattern. Right, like maybe “silver cat” is a meeting place?” Before Robin could respond, Dustin turned toward Steve. “Is your girlfriend busy?”

 

This threw Steve for a loop, stopping him in his tracks as he tried to catch up. “Okay, first of all, she’s not my girlfriend.” He didn’t miss the way Robin and Dustin looked at each other like they were bored. “Second, what does she have to do with this?”

 

“She’s great with puzzles, especially riddles. Will used to get her help for dungeon challenges in D&D all the time and she made really great stuff.” Dustin informed him, which Steve had to admit he didn’t know about you. “If we can get her the full translation, I bet she’d be able to crack it faster than any of us.”

 

“No, absolutely not.” He stopped then, making them both have to turn to face him. “We’re not bringing her into this.”

 

Dustin looked positively affronted. “What do you mean? Why not?”

 

How did he explain it without the kid seeing through him like glass like he always did? “She’s stressed enough with college coming up soon and I don’t want her within a mile radius of whatever this shit is!”

 

Dustin crossed his arms over his chest, looking very amused at his friend’s reaction. “A mile radius, huh? Kinda hard to stick to the mile when she works right upstairs.” The older was ready to explain that wasn’t what he meant, but Dustin continued. “When was the last time you talked to her anyway?”

 

Steve felt the back of his neck grow hot and moved his arm so he could rub away the feeling. “Last night.”

 

“Last night?” Robin’s eyebrows raised, now also crossing her arms over his chest to face him. “What were you doing last night?”

 

“Jesus,” Steve blew air out through his teeth. “It’s complicated, alright?”

 

“Complicated?” Dustin said it as if it was the stupidest word he’d ever heard. “What’s complicated?”

 

Robin brought her hand up to her mouth so she could speak towards Dustin, even though she knew Steve still heard her as she loudly whispered, “They hooked up.” Dustin’s eyes widened at him in shock.

 

“No, no!” Steve put his hands up as if he could physically stop this train from derailing, a nervous laugh came out. “We just made out a little, that’s all.”

 

Robin snorted then, turning on her heel to keep walking. “Oh yeah, that’s all. ”

 

“Listen, it doesn’t matter right now, alright?” His tone betrayed his frustration as he looked at Dustin for a lifeline. “We’re not getting her involved unless it’s an absolute emergency. Deal?”

 

Dustin looked like he absolutely did not want to agree, but muttered an, “okay,” before moving to catch up with Robin. Steve sighed, bringing his fingers up to pinch his nose when he heard it. That song, from the transmission. He knew that song, and he knew exactly where it was from.

 

He walked right up to the mechanical horse beside him, digging through his pockets for change so he could confirm his suspicion. “What are you doing?” Robin called back to him after a minute, just noticing he wasn’t behind them.

 

“It’s a quarter,” he said, confirming he didn’t have what he needed. “I need - do you have a quarter?”

 

Robin started to softly laugh at him, “Sure you’re tall enough for that ride?”

 

“Quarter!” He yelled, just as one came flying at him. He barely caught it before crouching down to put it into the machine. The ‘Indiana Flyer’ immediately kicked to life, moving along a circle as the music began to play.

 

Focused on the tune, he got annoyed when Robin interrupted to say, “You need help getting up, little Stevie?” Even more so when Dustin also started to chuckle.

 

“Shh!” He put a finger up, looking up at them with a serious expression. “Would you two just shut up and listen?”

 

The tune continued for a few seconds as realization dawned on Dustin’s face. “Holy shit.” The boys shared a look. “The music!” Then Dustin was falling to his knees beside Steve, digging into his bag to pull out the recorder again and play it along.

 

The same jingle echoed between the mechanical horse before them and the speaker of the recorder.

 

“I don’t understand.” Robin looked over them, confused.

 

“It’s the exact same song on the recording,” Dustin trailed off, staring at the horse like it was hiding something from them.

 

Robin still hadn’t come to the same conclusion as them. “Maybe they have horses like this in Russia.”

 

Steve’s head was already shaking before she finished the thought. “‘Indiana Flyer’? I don’t… I don’t think so. This code. It didn’t come from Russia.” His eyes met Robin’s and then flicked down to Dustin. “It came from here.”

 

Dustin let the recorder fall to his side as they all stared at the horse. Then his eyes met Steve’s, his expression troubled. “Still think you can keep this a mile away from your girlfriend?”

Notes:

setting something up for part 7 and 8 of this series in this chap, don't mind meeeeeee

Chapter 4

Monday, July 1st, 1985 - Your House, West Hawkins

 

You’re cozy in your pajamas and a robe, halfway through a bowl of cereal, when your doorbell rings. Which is unusual. Not many people end up at your empty house to begin with, mostly only people you know, and anyone you had invited over ever knows that you hate when people ring the doorbell. You spread the word so much among your friends that it almost never happened, so you’d almost forgotten the clanging sound that echoed terribly around the house.

 

Since you take too long to think about how shocked you are that somebody is ringing your doorbell, they ring it again. So you push off the table with a huff, feeling like a regular suburban mom as you tie your robe tight around your waist and rush to the door, calling out, “I’m coming.” Hopefully they hear you so they don’t ring the damn thing again.

 

You unlock the door and pull it open a few inches, about ready to tell whoever it is to fuck off when you come face to face with Eleven and Max. “El? Max?” You pull the door further open as you look at them confused.

 

“Hey, sorry to bother you,” Max starts, already looking uncomfortable but you wave off the apology.

 

“Don’t worry about it, I was just finishing some cereal. Wanna come in?”

 

Max looks like she is about to turn you down but then El nods at you with a smile, stepping past you into the house. “Oh,” Max falters, “sure then.”

 

You lead them both into your kitchen, turning on some lights along the way to present some sense of normalcy. You didn’t normally turn lights on when you were by yourself unless you specifically needed them to see something. Sliding back into your chair, you gesture for them to join you at your kitchen table. “Did you guys want some cereal?” You offer, feeling weird to be eating without offering them anything.

 

“No, thank you.” El replies, her voice slow but more sure than it used to be. “We already ate.”

 

“Sure, no problem. I love the outfit by the way, El.” Her face lights up in a smile as she looks down at her new clothes and then back at you. “So, what brings you ladies out here to my neck of the woods?”

 

“El wants to check on something and we wanted to ask if you would come with us/drive us.” Max tends to get right to the point of things, which you appreciate (for the most part).

 

“Sure?” You answer, looking and sounding confused. “Check on what?”

 

El sits up straighter as she addresses you. “Last night, we were playing a game. We spun a bottle and it landed on Billy’s name. So I went into the Void to see what Billy was doing.”

 

“The Void being that thing you do with the blindfold to look at people from anywhere, right?” She nods, looking happy you remembered. “Okay, ignoring the obvious privacy violations in this ‘game’, what is it that you saw Billy doing that made you so concerned?”

 

Max leans back in her chair, crossing her arms with a huff. “This is a waste of time. We should be at the mall or watching a movie or something.”

 

The brunette looks at her, almost hurt. “You don’t believe me?”

 

“I believe you saw some super weird stuff, totally, but you said Mike has sensed you in there before, right?” El nods again. “So maybe it was just like that. Maybe Billy just… sensed you. Somehow.”

 

“Wait, Billy reacted to you while you were in the Void?” You don’t know too much about this part of the whole ‘El has powers’ thing, but you know that isn’t normal.

 

“Yes,” El directs at you before turning back to Max. “But the screams.” Which shocks you to hear.

 

Max lets her head fall back, her eyes on the ceiling. “Yeah, I know, but here’s the thing.” She pauses, letting her head come back down to look at her friend. “When Billy is alone with a girl, they make, like, really crazy noises.”

 

“They scream?” El asks, visibly confused.

 

“Yeah, but like… happy screams.” You clench your teeth tight together, trying hard not to laugh as Max explains.

 

That doesn’t make El any less confused. “Happy screams? What is happy screams?” Max looks at you, asking for help without asking.

 

“Don’t look at me, this is not my job.” You put your hands up in surrender before bringing both your palms to your bowl. “Hopper or Joyce will explain it to you someday, El.” Which is a shitty answer, but you also don’t feel like giving the young teens a sex ed lesson right now. “So, you want me to take you to your own house so you two can check on Billy?”

 

El nods quickly, and Max shrugs her shoulders as if to say ‘I guess’. Your only genuine interaction with Billy had been when he attacked Steve and then you shoved a syringe of drugs into his neck. And you still didn’t really know how he felt about that, having not crossed paths except in the hallways since then. But, if the girls felt safer with you there, who were you to say no?

 

“Okay, let me go get dressed and I’ll drive you.”

 

---

 

Monday, July 1st, 1985 - Hargrove/Mayfield House, West Hawkins

 

When you stop in front of Max’s house 15 minutes later, all three of you lean toward the windows of your car to look around. “His car’s not here,” Max announces, as if that was strange. You look at her in your passenger seat before you both turn at El in the backseat. “You really wanna do this?”

 

After a moment of hesitation, El nods again. So you put your car in park, turn off the engine, and step out onto the sidewalk in front of the house. First looking up into the overcast sky, then turning back to make sure Max is able to pull the passenger forward so El can get out without your help. They manage it just fine together. When they join you on your side of the car, you hang back and let Max lead the way inside. It is her own house after all.

 

The house is empty as far as you can tell, and you trail after the two girls as Max pushes straight into Billy’s room without knocking. Before you can even see anything inside, Max is cringing. “Why do I get the feeling we’re going to find all kinds of wrong in here?”

 

There is still heavy metal music playing softly from somewhere in the room, posters of half naked women on the wall. You pause in the doorway, leaning against the frame as the girls look around. Max opens the bedside table drawer (a questionable decision) and makes a disgusted noise at the not-so-tasteful mags inside. “Gag me with a spoon.” She slams it shut again as you laugh.

 

Eleven pushes straight into the ensuite bathroom (He has an ensuite? Prick.) and flips the light on as the two walk inside. You stay in the doorway, dutifully waiting for them to finish whatever they’re doing when you hear El call your name.

 

You rush in, immediately concerned, but find both of them looking down at the full bathtub. There are plastic bags floating on top, ‘ICE’ printed on them in red text. “Ice. It’s just ice,” Max immediately shrugs off El’s concerns. “Probably for his muscles or something. He works out like a maniac.”

 

“I mean, that makes sense to me,” you also shrug, now leaning against the wall that was between the bathtub and the bathroom door. You watch carefully as El slowly turns away from the tub and looks down. Her shoulders rise and fall heavily so you follow her gaze down to the cabinets below the sink. Was that blood?

 

Before you can stop her, El is opening the doors and digging around inside. You step forward to interrupt, wanting to say that even though Billy is an asshole, he is still allowed privacy, but then she stands, holding a plastic trash bin.  Max takes another step forward as her hand reaches inside. “El, what is it?”

 

El’s arm rises, a bright red fanny pack in her hand that has ‘Lifeguard’ written on the front. It’s haphazardly bedazzled and definitely doesn’t look like something Billy would carry at his shifts to the pool. You look at Max and her face drops for the first time. El puts the bag down and reaches back into the bin, now pulling out a bright yellow whistle that’s stained red with what is definitely blood.

 

“Okay, that’s suspicious, but doesn’t mean he’s guilty of anything,” you start, causing both girls to look at you with their eyebrows drawn together. “There could have been an accident at the pool and he ended up with one of the other lifeguards things?”

 

“We should go to the pool,” Max goes back to staring at the red fanny pack as she speaks, “see if anyone there knows whose bag that is.” El nods, agreeing as she grabs both the whistle and the bag before putting the trash can back under the sink.

 

“Yeah, sure, okay,” you exhale, turning to leave as they follow you out of the house with the clues they found. You didn’t realize you signed up for an extended day trip but now that someone is possibly injured, you definitely aren’t leaving the two super sleuths alone. The three of you make it to your car just as the first few raindrops start to fall.

 

---

 

Monday, July 1st, 1985 - Hawkins Community Pool

 

By the time you enter a parking spot at the pool, it’s pouring down rain. You'd pulled in carefully as families and teens ran through the lot to get to the safety of their cars. Based on the cloud cover, it doesn't look like the pool will be reopening any time soon.

 

"So what exactly is the plan here?" You turn toward the girls. A lot of the happenings around this group tended to be spontaneous, brave, and some could even say impulsive. You’re a planner by nature, detail oriented, almost cautious when it comes to things like this. Sure, thinking fast was useful but sometimes making sure a plan was thought out is needed.

 

They look at each other like they hadn't thought that far ahead yet. Max quickly recovers. "We should go see who's working, maybe they know whose bag it is."

 

"And then what?" You continue, wanting to know what the end game of this whole thing was.

 

"I don't know!" Max throws her hands up, looking defensive.

 

"When we know who it is, then we can make sure they are alright." El confirms, looking at you for approval. You clench your teeth, still not sure about this plan, but then you talk them through getting inside with minimal water damage.

 

The girls race ahead of you as you lock your car and then briskly walk toward the pool office/locker room using the umbrella you keep stashed in your car. They’re already talking to the two people at the staff desk when you get inside.

 

"You want to get electrocuted, go climb a tree." You only catchthe end of his spheal but the guy is obviously not interested in talking to them. You're about to step in, but Max is way ahead of you.

 

"Yeah, we don't care, we're not here to swim. Or get electrocuted."

 

"We found this," El pulls out the small red bag, setting it on the desk in view of the 2 behind it. The man, who you assume is the manager, does finally look up, but it's with a bored expression.

 

"Does that belong to anybody here?" Max continues to press the disinterested man for info.

 

"Oh yeah, that's Heather's. I'll get it back to her," he says, reaching for it only for El to pull it slightly out of his reach.

 

"Heather? Heather Holloway?" You ask, recognizing the name from school. The manager looks over, like he only just noticed that you were behind them, and then he nods.

 

"We could give it back to her," El suggests.

 

"You could," he agrees, "'Cept she's not here. Bailed on me today." You watch as the girls make heavy eye contact. The man does not look amused. "What is this? You girls want a reward or something?"

 

"No we're just… Good Samaritans." And with that lovely display of sarcasm from Max, you pull the girls away from the counter and over toward the locker rooms.

 

"Okay, so now you know it's Heather's. What's the plan?" You ask, noticing only Max is looking at you. You both turn to El, who is staring intently at the board that has pictures of all the lifeguards. You recognize a few of them from school but it seems she’s zeroed in on the headshot of Heather.

 

Max steps up beside her. "Do you think you can find her?"

 

El grabs the photo and then drags you both by the wrist into the girls locker room.

 

"Help me turn on the showers," Max calls over her shoulder as she starts pulling open shower curtains and switching on the taps. El disappears somewhere nearby so you follow Max, turning on each shower until they're all running.

 

"What's this for?"

 

"El needs white noise and darkness to find people. We normally use radio or TV static, but running water works too," Max explains as she starts looking around for something else.

 

"Here," El reappears holding a pair of goggles that are now covered in duct tape. Max smiles at her, whispering something about her being a genius, before she waves you over to sit next to her on a bench. El settles on the floor beside it, the photo of Heather right in front of her.

 

You’ve never seen this happen before, only heard about it, so you aren’t really sure what to expect. El slides the goggles on and you just watch with bated breath. After what had to be only a minute or two, Max says, "What do you see?"

 

"A door. A red door."

 

She goes silent again and you watch a trickle of red blood leave her nose as she continues not to move. You look at Max who shrugs like it’s normal, so you don't say anything.

 

A few more minutes pass. Just as you’re starting to get nervous, El rips the mask off of her face. She’s panting and looks terrified. You immediately get off the bench and fall to your knees beside her, placing a hand on her upper back to steady her.

 

"El? What is it? What's wrong?"

 

Max comes up beside you, "What happened?"

 

El collapses forward, face in her hands as she continues heaving deep breaths. You rub her back as your other hand drops to her knee. You hope your presence is comforting for her, because she must have seen something that really scared her.

 

She takes a few more shaky breaths before she meets your eyes. “I think Heather is in trouble.”

 

Max comes around in front and you both sit on the floor as she explains what she saw, all the way up to Heather disappearing into the abyss as she screamed. It’s extremely unsettling to hear, and you can’t imagine how El must be feeling having seen it. There’s a large part of you that can’t help but think about the weight she must carry every day.

 

“What do you think it means?” Max asks, keeping focused on the end goal as your mind spins. You are definitely grateful for her.

 

El shrugs as she finally wipes the blood from under her nose. “I don’t know. But we should go to Heather’s house.”

 

You cringe, taking a look at your wrist watch to see how much time you have left. “I’d love to, but I really need to get to work. How about I drop you both off at Max’s and then we can all go together tomorrow to check on her, okay?” The girls share another look, like they did not want to do that at all, but eventually agree to being dropped off.

 

The three of you run back through the rain to your car and are back at Max’s house with just enough time for you to drop them off and head to the mall. As you pull away, both of them still standing on the porch waving, you can’t shake the feeling that they are not going to sit around and wait until tomorrow morning to check on Heather.

Notes:

if you'll notice how this is the first fic in this series that isn't tagged 'Steve Harrington-centric', ITS ON PURPOSE. that's right friends, we're getting interactions with EVERYBODY in, not just darling Harrington

also i'm about to finish chapter 12 and i might have to up the end count to 13. it's a long (tragic) haul. we'll see next update. feel free to continue to leave feedback, i can still change things as we go! thanks for all the sweet comments so far, they mean the world <3

Chapter 5

Tuesday, July 2nd, 1985 - Your House, West Hawkins

 

Whether by bad luck or bad timing, you weren’t able to catch Steve last night after your shift at the theater. When you walked up to Scoops, the lights were still on but the gate was down, and when you’d called out there was no answer.

 

You just hoped he wasn’t avoiding you after what happened on Saturday. There was a bit of regret from having spent so much time kissing him and not enough time talking to him about what it meant. So now you weren’t really sure where you stood. Did he have romantic feelings for you or just sexual? Did he want to date? Did he want to be friends with benefits? You had meant it when you had asked him what the hell the two of you were doing. It just hadn’t seemed too important to focus on when his hands were gripping your waist and his lips and teeth were moving toward your neck.

 

He was supposed to be working again today, so you’d try again later to “run into him” at the mall. This afternoon you were supposed to help Max and El go check on Heather.

 

Dressed and walking downstairs, you hear a muffled voice in your kitchen. You freeze as the hairs on your arms stand up, hoping to hear the noise again so you could get a better idea of what it was. It repeats, sounding similar to the first time you heard it. You can’t make out what they’re saying, but the voice almost sounds familiar. Grabbing the thing closest to you that could be considered a weapon (your drying umbrella), you ready for a fight.

 

Clearing the corner onto the linoleum, you immediately take in the room. There’s no one (that you can see) but if anything that makes you feel more unsettled. Last November had really done a number on you.

 

The sound comes through again and you are now able to zero in on the source: your bag. You take a few cautious steps toward it, placing the umbrella down as you tear it open.

 

This is a code red, I repeat this is a code red. Do you copy? Lucas’ voice comes through, a bit static-y due to the distance between you both. You sigh and rub your hand against your forehead, frustrated and embarrassed for being so jumpy. You hear Lucas call your name again over the radio and pick it up.

 

“I hear you,” was all you said when you pressed the talk button down, not really convinced these kids knew what a code red was.

 

Oh, thank god. Lucas says, and you hear another muffled voice in the background before he lets go of the call button. You pause for a moment to see if he would come back, but he doesn’t fast enough.

 

“What do you want, Lucas?”

 

Code red. He repeats. We need you at Mike’s house.

 

“I’m supposed to be meeting Max and El this morning.”

 

They’re also on their way here. The walkie cuts off quickly again, but he comes back through. Something happened. Need your help for this, do you copy?

 

Although part of you still feels weird about this whole thing, he said they needed you. And you were not about to say no to these kids who had a bad habit of getting into trouble on their own. It was a miracle they were getting you involved in the first place. Plus, a tiny part of you hoped they were roping Steve into this too. “I copy, on my way.” You slip your bag onto your shoulder as you check your watch. “ETA 25 minutes.”

 

Heard. Was all he replied before it went back to silence. You grab a granola bar to eat on the way and push out of your house toward your car.

 

---

 

Tuesday, July 2nd, 1985 - Wheeler House, East Hawkins

 

You pull up in front of the Wheeler’s house right as Max and El roll onto the driveway. They see you getting out of your car, pause to give each other an intense look, then wave you over to walk in with them. “What’s with the change of plans?” You ask as you approach them.

 

“Don’t know,” Max says, looking tired and annoyed. “Just said something bad happened and they would explain it when we got here.”

 

“So I guess this is more important than going to check on Heather?” The girls look at each other again, then El shrugs at you before they push themselves inside the unlocked front door. You trail after them, following the familiar path through the kitchen and down toward the basement.

 

“Try Dustin again,” you hear Mike say as you descend the stairs.

 

You immediately perk up, “Dustin’s back?!”

 

“Yeah, got back Sunday,” Will informs you as Lucas and Mike continue arguing about Dustin not answering them.

 

A soft smile comes to your face as your eyes settle on Will. “Hey kiddo,” you pull him into a tight side hug. He looks tired and a bit scared, but that was pretty normal for him so you don’t think much of it. He murmurs a ‘hello’ in return as he accepts the affection.

 

Will was like a little brother to you, had been for almost 10 years, and it scared you how attached you were to him. That week of thinking he was dead 2 years ago had almost destroyed you. That pain made you want to show him affection every time you saw him, even if it embarrassed him. Sometimes embarrassing him made it better anyway.

 

Now that everyone has gathered, Mike calls you all to circle around the coffee table. You sit in between Will and El, your hands on your knees as you wait for whatever nightmare is about to unfold.

 

And unfold it does.

 

Will goes first. “I didn’t think it was anything at first. I mean, I think I just didn’t want to believe it. The first time I felt it was at the Day of the Dead.”

 

“That movie you all snuck into on Friday?” You ask, wanting to make sure you have the timeline right.

 

Mike nods, “the power went out that night too.”

 

“And I felt it again at the field near the Nelson farm the next day. Then again yesterday outside Castle Byers.”

 

Max speaks up, “what does it feel like?”

 

Will considers the question for a moment. “It’s almost like… You know when you drop on a rollercoaster?”

 

“Sure.” “Yeah.” “No,” El answers and you pat her back to try to console her.

 

“It’s like… Everything inside of your body is sinking all at once, but… This is worse.” His voice catches and you instinctively grip his shoulder. He looks over at you, torn between grateful and embarrassed, before continuing. “Your body… It goes cold – and you can’t breathe. I’ve felt it before, whenever he was close."

 

It feels like the temperature in the room suddenly drops 10 degrees. “Whenever who was close?” Max asks, braver than the rest of you.

 

“The Mind Flayer.” Your hand tightens on his shoulder as he says the words, feeling like if you let him go, he’d disappear again.

 

El is staring at the table below them, her expression blank. “I closed the gate.”

 

“I know but… What if he never left? What if we locked him out here with us?” Will physically pulls you over to the D&D table, the rest of the group trailing after you both. He grabs some paper and a piece of charcoal and starts sketching. A few moments later, you’re looking at a casual drawing of the Mind Flayer. “This is him. All of him. But, that day on the field, a part of him attached itself to me.” He smears his palm across the paper, his hand coming back smudged with black. “Then my mom got it out of me.”

 

The memory of hearing Will screaming in pain while being possessed by the Mind Flayer hits you like a slap across the face. You weren’t there when he was ‘exorcized’, but your brain can throw a convincing show together based on the other things you did experience. It sends your perception spinning, but Will is still talking, so you try to focus back in.

 

“And Eleven closed the gate,” he continues, motioning to El before he flips the paper over on the table. “But the part that was in me, what if it’s still in our world?” He presses his smudged hand down on the paper, leaving part of a handprint there. “In Hawkins?”

 

Max immediately begins to shake her head. “I don’t understand. The Demodogs died when El closed the gate. If the brain dies, the body dies.”

 

“We can’t take any chances,” Mike has activated his ‘I’m a leader’ voice, which isn’t a good sign. “We need to assume the worst. The Mind Flayer’s back.”

 

Will nods at him to agree. “Yeah. And if he is, he’d want to attach himself to someone again. A new me.”

 

“A new host…” Lucas trails off, looking like he’s deep in thought.

 

El’s gaze circles the group, making eye contact with whoever is looking before landing on Will. “How can you tell if someone is a host?”

 

He looks a bit lost for words, so you step in. “Is this about Billy?”

 

Max rolls her eyes but Lucas asks, “what about Billy?”

 

El explains the experience she had two days before with Billy sensing her in the Void. Then goes on to how you had gone with them to look through Billy’s room and then found your way to the pool, what she saw when she went into the Void again to look for Heather. After she finishes what you already knew, you then learn that the girls didn’t just sit around and wait while you were at work last night. As you suspected.

 

“What do you mean you broke into the Holloway’s house?” Your voice always goes to a higher pitch when you’re mad, and you see Will visibly wince out of the corner of your eye.

 

“We thought they were in trouble, so El used her powers to unlock the door!” Max immediately goes on the defensive.

 

“You didn’t think to knock or ring the doorbell or anything? Not to mention you said you wouldn’t go there without me!”

 

“Were we supposed to just sit around knowing there was a possibility Heather needed our help?”

 

“This doesn’t matter,” Mike says, interrupting the two of you. “They already did it and you can’t change that now,” he directs at you. God, you hate when the kid is right. “What did you see when you were there?”

 

El begins to explain how for the most part, everything had seemed normal. Max confirms that Billy had been acting weird but Heather looked perfectly fine. They left after Heather offered them cookies, feeling weird about the whole thing.

 

“Okay, great,” you say sarcastically, “so all you accomplished was making a family of important people in this town think you’re crazy.” Max and El give you a look that was halfway between frustrated and embarrassed.

 

“Whatever,” Mike really just put it upon himself to never agree with you, “we should go to the pool in case Billy or Heather are there. Scope things out, see if either of them are the new host.” All the kids except Max nod to agree, who looks on slightly worried. Will makes eye contact with you.

 

“Would you drive us?” He asks.

 

Lucas also steps up, “we could use your eagle eyes out there.”

 

You roll your eyes, but your smile betrays you. “Flattery only sometimes works on me.” You move your bag further onto your shoulder. “Okay, but I don’t have enough seats so we either have to double up or someone’s gotta go in the trunk.”

 

You turn to walk upstairs without stopping to listen if they fought over who was going to go where. When you push out of the basement door, you almost run straight into Karen Wheeler.

 

“Oh, crap, I’m so sorry Mrs. Wheeler.” You cringe at how she jumps away from the door when you open it.

 

Her smile is radiant as always. “No problem, honey. I didn’t know you were here.” She pulls you into a one-armed hug, which makes you kind of confused but you accept it regardless.

 

“Yeah, doing my chauffeur duties,” you hook a thumb over your shoulder just as the group of teens comes barrelling up the stairs behind you.

 

She gives you a sympathetic look as they pass but says, “that's fun! And where are you all headed off to today?”

 

“I’m driving them over to the pool,” you answer, not thinking much of it.

 

She looks at them as they walk away through the kitchen, and then at you. “No swimsuits?”

 

You could’ve slapped your own forehead. “Yeah, I’m not sure about it either.” You let out a nervous laugh, which brings another kind smile to her face. “I seem to just do what they tell me these days.”

 

“Well, don’t let them boss you around too much. You’ve got to have a little bit of fun before you go off to college.” She finishes it off with a wink, adjusting the laundry basket she’s holding from one hip to the other. “And you should come over for dinner soon!”

 

You sure as hell wouldn’t. “That’d be great, Mrs. Wheeler. Thanks,” you lie and give the best smile you can. “I better go before they start trying to break into my car.”

 

This makes her laugh again, but it’s more of a polite one than a genuine one. “I won’t keep you then, be safe out there.” And then she goes down into the basement herself.

 

By the time you get out to your car, the boys are fighting over who has to sit in the trunk.

 

“I always have to sit in the trunk,” Will complains, and with good reason.

 

“You have the shortest legs, so you fit better,” seems to be Lucas’ only argument.

 

“You can all sit on each other's laps if you want,” you tease as you step up to unlock the car. “As long as you all get in the car and keep your hands and feet inside of the vehicle at all times.”

 

After a bit more discussion, Lucas ends up in the trunk, Max, Mike, and Will in the backseat, and El in the passenger seat. You can’t help but notice it seems like a deliberate attempt to get the ‘couples’ of the group to not be near each other. Maybe there was some drama? You’d have to ask Will about it later.

 

“Everybody who has a seatbelt better clip it, and Lucas,” you adjust your rearview mirror to lock eyes with him, “if you see any cops, duck.”

Notes:

every chapter can't be action packed, some chapters need to be walking from point a to point b. so here is the walking chapter so the next one can run.

Chapter 6

Notes:

content warning: violence occurs in this chapter, canonically along the lines of the sauna test. please be cautious if you are concerned with being triggered.

Tuesday, July 2nd, 1985 - Hawkins Community Pool

 

“I don’t know. He looks pretty normal to me.”

 

You and the kids are all gathered around the hood of your car in the parking lot, looking out over the pool. Billy is sitting on the lifeguard chair under an umbrella, covered head to toe in white cloth and holding an ICEE cup.

 

“Normal?” Lucas looks over at her like she’s insane. “How many times have you seen him with a shirt on?”

 

You snort a laugh, thinking about the rumors you’ve heard about everyone drooling over him at the pool.  “Making a good point there.”

 

Max shrugs. “I mean, it’s a little weird.”

 

“More than a little,” Mike turns toward her, his arms resting on the hood of the car. “He was in a tub with ice. The Mind Flayer likes it cold. Plus, everything else.”

 

She still doesn’t look convinced. “But he’s lounging at the pool, which is, like, the least Mind Flayer thing ever.”

 

“Not necessarily.” You all turn to look at Will. “The Mind Flayer likes to hide. He only used me when he needed me. It’s like – like you’re dormant. And then, when he needs you, you’re activated.”

 

“Okay… So we just wait until he gets activated.”

 

Mike shakes his head. “No. What if he hurts someone?”

 

“Or kills someone.” Will adds gravely.

 

“We can’t take that chance.” Mike stands up straight. “We need to find out if he’s the host.”

 

You cross your arms over your chest. “And how do you suppose we do that?”

 

Mike turns and walks away from you without answering, doubling the normal urge you have to strangle the little shit. “Where are you going?” El calls after him.

 

He turns back then. “I have an idea. Boys only.” He motions for Will and Lucas to follow him.

 

“Seriously?” Max looks about as mad as you feel.

 

“Just trust me on this one!” He says as he continues walking backwards toward the pool house.

 

“Be careful!” You yell at them, and at least Lucas has the decency to give you a thumbs up. “God,” you sigh, then look over at the girls. “Boys are so stupid.”

 

“Tell me about it.”

 

It takes about an hour for the boys to come back out to meet you. To beat the heat, the 3 of you had gotten back into your car, got the AC running, and put in a cassette. There was a bit of idle chit chat between the 3 of you (mostly you and Max), but for the most part you were all just relaxing in the car and watching Billy to make sure he didn’t go anywhere.

 

Without warning, Mike opens the passenger side door and shoos Max, who puts up a bit of a fight before climbing into the backseat with El, giving Mike an opportunity to sit and explain the plan. You aren’t extremely happy with it by any means, but at least it’s a safe one for the most part. As long as Billy is locked in the sauna, he can’t do anything to the kids, whether he is possessed or not. The plan is to wait until the pool closes, so El and Max go with Mike to keep setting up the trap while you drive to get everyone something to eat.

 

By the time you get back to the pool, most people are leaving. You park your car across the street to stay out of sight and radio for the kids to come and meet you for pizza. They’re all vocally grateful as they stand around your car and eat slices, finalizing the details of the plan.

 

You take a second to really think about how they had included you in this. They hadn’t tried to pull a fast one on you, get you to go away, or trick you into helping them do something. All of them have been forthright with the plan and what they expect from you, and answered any questions you had for them on how they were going to keep each other safe. It’s obvious that the Party trusts you. And that means a lot.

 

They lead you around the side of the pool house as the sun starts going down.

 

As soon as Billy got in the shower in the locker room, Lucas would padlock the door to keep him in. Mike would use your walkie talkie (taped to a CPR dummy) to lure him into the sauna room. Once he was inside, El would make sure he stayed in for a few moments until the boys could secure a metal pole and chain to keep the door closed. You’d be in charge of deciding when the padlocks came off as the holder of the only keys to both, and the controller of the heat in the sauna. It was ultimately your call how long Billy stayed inside, but you would defer to what Max was comfortable with for the most part.

 

As soon as you hear El say “Hi” you’re all on the move, ignoring the pained groan from Billy and the sound of him hitting the tile wall and then the floor. The kids move as a well oiled machine, El closing the door with her mind, Mike wedging the metal pole through the handle and behind the piping beside the sauna, and then Lucas and Will locking the chain around the pole with another padlock. You walk in behind them, spinning the keys for both padlocks around your finger as they settle in front of the door.

 

Billy bangs on it several times before looking up to see who had done this to him. His face falls when he sees his sister. “Max?”

 

She hesitates, keeping eye contact with him for a few moments before turning to you. “Do it.”

 

You walk around the side of the kids and spin the sauna heat control to the highest setting. Now all that is left to do is watch and wait.

 

Billy is not a pleasant captive. He does not stop throwing himself against the door, trying to break through it. The only pauses he takes are to scream out, mostly at Max. You move back through the group to stand at her side, taking hold of her hand as a particularly loud yell of her name makes her flinch.

 

“You kids…” His voice drips with malice, looking visibly shaking with outrage in the sauna window. “You kids think this is some kind of sick prank, huh?” He spits on the glass. “You little shits think this is funny?” His chest is heaving as he exhales hot air onto the glass, causing it to fog up. He lets out a noise that almost sounds like a growl. In a low voice, he repeats, “Open the door.”

 

A loud bang makes you all jump, Max’s grip on your hand tightening to an almost painful level. “OPEN THE DOOR! OPEN. THE. DOOR.” The banging continues, accenting his words. “OPEN THE GODDAMN DOOR.”

 

All of the sudden, he pulls away from the door, dropping out of sight. Will takes the opportunity to approach the temperature gauge. “We’re at 220.”

 

Then you hear it. It echoes off the walls, finding you all at different times. Billy is crying on the floor of the sauna. Openly, loudly, painfully crying. Max immediately pulls forward. You want to hold her back but let your hands drop as she approaches the window in the door.

 

“It’s not my fault.” You and Will share a panicked look behind Max. “It’s not my fault, Max. I promise you, it’s not my fault.”

 

“What’s not your fault, Billy?”

 

You hear his voice breaking, the air coming to him through gasping breaths. If this is an act, it’s a damn good one.

 

“I’ve done things, Max,” he continues. “Really… bad things. I didn’t mean to. He made me do it.”

 

Max stiffens in front of you and you fight every molecule in your body that wants to pull her far away from here. “Who made you do it?”

 

“I don’t know,” Billy trails off, like he didn’t even believe himself. “It’s like a shadow. Like a giant shadow. Please, Max.”

 

Max's voice starts to quiver as she asks, “What did he make you do?”

 

Billy is sobbing now, borderline hysterical, as he starts to beg Max. “It’s not my fault, okay? Max, please. Please, believe me, Max. It’s not my fault. I tried to stop him, okay? I did.” His voice moves, sounding further away, but you can’t see what he is doing with Max in front of the window. “Please believe me, Max. Please believe me.”

 

Max brings her hand up to the door, her own voice wet with tears. “Billy, it’s gonna be okay. We want to help you. We want to help you. You just have to talk to us, okay? You have to talk to us.”

 

Will starts breathing heavily next to you, his hand coming up to the back of his neck. His full body shudders as he looks at you. “I feel him.” Will’s gaze leaves you to look at Mike. “He’s activated.”

 

“Max, get away from the door!” You jump into action, crossing the distance in three steps to grip her shoulder. 

 

“What?” She looks back at your hand on her shoulder and then at you. You forcibly drag her backwards, away from the window just as you hear it shatter. Angling your body between her and the glass, you feel a few shards scrape your back as you both move away.

 

“Let me out, you bitch! Let me OUT! I’ll fucking gut you!” You continue shielding Max further into the room as she cries, only looking back at a safe distance to see Billy with a full arm out of the broken window as he pulls the metal pole free from the door. “Let me out!” He screams again, now getting more movement with only the chain holding the door closed as he slams his full body weight against it.

 

Your group is all huddled into the center of the gym as the lights begin to flicker on and off above you. Billy doubles over as if he’s in pain, dipping from your view. When he reappears again, he has black veins trailing up his skin. Almost as if they’re moving. And the universe decides that isn’t horrifying enough, so his mouth opens and lets out an absolutely inhuman, animalistic roar. He’s seething as he turns back to the door keeping him contained. A few short steps and then he’s slamming his body weight against the door again. Once. Twice.

 

“He can’t get out, can he?” Max’s voice is still shaking.

 

“No, no way.” You all wish Lucas sounded more sure than he did.

 

You and El step forward at the same time, placing yourselves between Billy and the other kids. “Get ready to run!” You warn as the door begins to buckle under the pressure.

 

Billy rears back like a bull ready to charge, releases a guttural scream, and runs into the door again. The metal piping folds, the door flying off the frame and snapping the chain keeping it closed. He stumbles forward before slowly rising to his full height. It feels like there’s a rabid animal right in front of you.

 

El reacts first. With a yell of her own, she telekinetically lifts a barbell from the gym floor and sends it sailing at Billy as the rest of the group tries to get out of the way. You want to tell them to start running but you can’t get the words out of your mouth. He grips the barbell as it makes impact but isn’t able to do anything against it as it presses him against the wall by his neck. El’s other hand raises as she lets out a groan, the weights pressing further into the wall as Billy struggles against it.

 

After a few tense seconds, the barbell comes loose. You herd the rest of the kids back, keeping yourself between the fight and them. Another scream leaves El as she strains, blood dripping from her nose as she attempts to keep Billy in place. His feet hit the floor and the barbell goes flying toward her, she barely manages to dodge it. Before she can react further, Billy yanks her back by her hair with one hand before gripping her windpipe with the other. El struggles against him, crying out, but it’s no use as he uses the grip on her neck to lift her off the floor. You all watch in horror as she struggles to breathe, her eyes rolling back into her head.

 

In a flash of movement, Mike had gotten out from behind you, grabbed the metal pole on the floor, and slammed it over Billy’s head. He and El both hit the floor.

 

“Go to hell you piece of shit!” Mike yells as he raises the pole over his head to hit again.  But as he brings it down, Billy’s hand intercepts it, blocking the hit and wrenching the weapon away from Mike before throwing it off to the side. Mike stumbles back as Billy takes a menacing step toward him.

 

El is still gasping on the floor, trying to recover. Mike wouldn’t stand a chance against Billy even if he hadn’t been possessed. You had taken him down before. You act on instinct. “HEY!” You scream, digging your feet in before pushing off as you barrell toward him. His head barely has a chance to turn toward you before you make impact. Not expecting the force of your entire body weight at a run, he stumbles back with you in tow.

 

Somehow in the fall, he twists you both so he’s above you. Your back and head hit the floor, knocking the air out of your lungs in a harsh gasp as he lands on top of you. He raises his upper body with his arms, flashing you a grin that is nothing short of sadistic before his hand grips your throat. 

 

While the choke on El had seemed more like an attempt to incapacitate, possibly injure, the choke he applied to your neck was intended to kill. You knew it as tears immediately came to your eyes and you brought your hands up to claw at his immovable wrist. The action seems to amuse him as he presses your neck harder into the concrete, the grip beyond bruising.

 

You hear several shouts around the room as your vision blurs, a terrified and choked yelp leaving you as he continues to watch you fade below him. Without warning, the pressure of him against your body starts getting lighter and lighter. You can see him rising off the ground even with your peripheral vision going dark. He keeps his grip for a few inches, bringing you up with him until something makes him let go. Your back and head hit the concrete floor hard again as you groan, rolling onto your side coughing and attempting to gasp in the air you had lost.

 

There’s screaming and yelling, you feel hands on your back and arms, then something that sounds like an explosion goes off beside you. You aren’t able to focus on anything other than the throbbing pain of your neck, the ringing in your ears, and the burn in your lungs as you try to just breathe.

 

When your eyes are able to focus even a little bit, you realize that Will and Max are kneeling at your side, shaking your shoulders and saying words you can’t hear or process. You see Lucas over Max’s shoulder, alternating between staring at you in concern and looking in the direction of the explosion in terror. You push yourself up on your elbows, barely able to hear or think through the pain, but you can at least see the huge hole in the brick wall of the gym and Billy struggling to stand on the other side.

 

The lights continue to flicker overhead as Mike helps El up from the floor. Will and Max stay at your side, each with a hand on your shoulder to help you stay up, as the 6 of you watch Billy rise and then stumble off into the night. None of you stop him. Not after a fight like that.

 

“El, Mike,” your voice comes out as barely a raspy whisper as you reach out toward them, “are you okay?”

 

They both turn to you; El is still crying and Mike looks like a deer in highlights. After they nod, you lay back down on the floor.

 

Your eyes slide closed, your breathing finally slowing down as the adrenaline begins to fade. Your back and head are hurting like hell, your neck is throbbing, there are probably bleeding cuts on your back, but the burn in your lungs has lessened. You’ll live.

 

“You probably just saved my life,” you hear Mike break the silence. You open your eyes again, dragging yourself into a sitting position on the floor as you hiss in pain. The group is all settled onto the floor of the gym, almost sitting in a circle. Your eyes meet Mike’s, his face ghostly pale.

 

“Don’t mention it,” your voice is the same quiet rasp as you finally reach a hand up to delicately prod at your neck. That was not going to be pretty for a long time, if it wasn’t already a nightmare to look at.

 

“And El saved all of ours.” Max brings her knees up and rests her crossed arms on them, her expression unreadable.

 

Your attention shifts to Eleven, who is still leaning hard on Mike with tears drying on her cheeks and blood drying under both nostrils. “Are you sure you’re alright?” Her eyes meet yours. You watch as her expression hardens, like she isn’t allowed to show weakness. She gives you a solitary nod but doesn't speak.

 

“Are you okay?” Will asks to your left and you see his eyes move from your face to your neck.

 

“I’ll live.” You repeat what you told yourself, plastering a pained smile on your face. The best you can do at the moment.

 

Lucas stands up first. “We should get out of here before someone sees the giant hole in the wall.” The others softly agree. Will and Max help you to your feet as Mike helps El, and then Will leads you all back to your car. You give Lucas the key to the first gold padlock so he can run back and remove it as you basically collapse into the driver’s seat.

 

The next hour is a blur. Somehow, you manage to drop the kids off at Mike’s house and then get inside your own front door before you pass out on the couch.

Chapter 7

Wednesday, July 3rd, 1985 - Your House, West Hawkins

 

You regain consciousness 11 hours later.

 

Your clothes are stiff with dust, sweat, and blood. Half your body is numb from the position you had passed out on the couch in. You feel like you were mauled by a tiger and then subsequently hit by a garbage truck. Your throat burns and your head is killing you.

 

Peeling yourself off of the couch, you’re able to stumble into the kitchen to drink some water and shove something to eat down your throat. That little bit is enough to get you to drag yourself upstairs. Getting yourself cleaned and dressed takes almost 2 hours as you struggle through the bruises and the aches on your own.

 

Fresh out of the shower, you take a moment to look at yourself in the mirror. The bruise on your neck is unmistakable. The direct outline of fingers on one side and a thumb on the other; a terrible watercolor painting of reds and blues and purples in the shape of a hand across your throat. Your only hope of covering it would be a scarf or turtleneck – there is no amount of makeup that would mask how dark and deep it is.

 

On the bright side, it seems the cuts across your back had been mostly surface level and hadn’t caught any of the glass, they all scabbed over on their own as you slept. As long as you didn’t stretch the skin too much, they’d recover quickly. And you didn’t hit your head hard enough to get a concussion, at least, you don’t think so. Your head is pounding but it’s about as painful as expected given the beating you took.

 

It feels silly, but the first thing you do when you finish getting dressed and go downstairs is pick up the phone to try to call Steve. You’d wanted to go and try to see him at Scoops again last night but then you’d gotten your ass kicked so it hadn’t worked out. So you grab the yellow wall phone in your kitchen off the receiver and punch in the number you had memorized by now.

 

The dial tone goes off and then it starts to ring. Once. Twice. Five times total.

 

“ The number you are trying to reach is unavailable, please try again later.”

 

You curse, pressing down the hook on the wall and punching in his number again.

 

Rang once. Twice. Three times.

 

“ The number you are trying to reach is unavailable, please try again later.”

 

“Fuck!” You cry, your voice louder than last night but still with a terrible rasp. You put the phone back on the wall, rubbing your face roughly with both hands. Was he avoiding you? You hadn’t talked since the two of you kissed on Saturday. He should be home, he had closed last night. Maybe he was just asleep? That seemed like something reasonable to hope for instead of the idea that he was regretting everything and now hated you.

 

You grab the phone again, calling one more time just in case.

 

“ The number you are trying to reach is unavailable, please try again later.”

 

The phone hits the receiver with more force this time, channeling your frustration and embarrassment into the movement. He hadn’t tried to call Monday night or last night. And now he wasn’t answering your calls. It couldn’t just be a coincidence.

 

Fully prepared to wallow in self pity and soothe your hurt throat with a quart of ice cream from your freezer, the phone begins to ring. You run over to it way too fast to be casual and rip it off the wall to your ear.

 

“Steve listen-” Your voice comes out as a raspy gasp.

 

“Not Steve.” You hear Jonathan interrupt on the other end of the line.

 

“Oh,” you try to mask your disappointment but don’t quite make it happen. “Hi Jonathan. Long time, no talk.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “you sound like shit.”

 

“Aww, thanks bro,” you almost laugh but even just thinking about it makes your throat ache worse, so you hold it in. “What’s up?”

 

Your ears pick up some discussion in the background, then what sounds like him covering the microphone and talking back to them, muffling what you might have heard. It continued back and forth for about 30 seconds before he clears his throat, the sound back to normal. “Sorry about that.”

 

“What’s going on?” You ask again, your worry kicking back up. You hadn’t even thought about what the kids were doing when you’d come back to life this morning and you had the sinking feeling Jonathan was now involved.

 

“The kids filled us in, at least, most of it.” You hear a protest in the background and the sound of someone being swatted at. “We did some more digging this morning and we’re on our way to the hospital. Can you meet us there?”

 

“Hospital?” Your voice raises in alarm, immediately sending a burning pain down your neck. “Is everyone okay?”

 

“Oh! Yes! Everyone is fine,” he assures, sounding like he hadn’t even anticipated that would be your thought process. “Just following another lead to someone else who is Flayed.”

 

“Flayed,” you sigh, rolling your head back to stare at the ceiling. You’re exhausted, but there was no time to rest. Not now. Not until this was over. You take a deep breath. “I’ll be there in 20.”

 

---

 

Wednesday, July 3rd, 1985 - Hawkins Memorial Hospital

 

Adjusting your scarf on your neck before exiting your car makes you feel like a teenager trying to hide a hickey. Not that you know a lot about what that really is like, but from the little you did know, it seems a lot like this. Only there would be a lot more than a disappointed father and some judgemental teachers if your bruising came into view. The last thing you need is someone calling Hopper and his boys saying that you were walking around looking like someone had attempted to murder you.

 

Which is true, but still. Better to avoid the trouble.

 

As you slam your car door shut behind you and turn away from it, you see Jonathan already approaching you. He has his hands in his pockets to try to look casual but is staring you down, probably looking for clues about what happened. Looking past his shoulder, the Party and Nancy are all standing by her car in deep discussion.

 

“Hey, you made it.” His eyes lock on the scarf and then jerk back up.

 

“Yeah,” the rasp is more intense in person than over the phone, “I made it.”

 

His expression drops as you speak. “How bad?”

 

“Could be worse,” you deflect.

 

He says your name, his tone stern. “How bad?”

 

Huffing an exhale out of your nose, you scan the area to make sure no one is looking, then yank down your scarf. His eyes almost double in size as he studies the marred skin covering your neck. His hand comes up to your jaw, tilting your head slightly to the side so he can see the outline of the fingertips. You suck air in through your teeth at the movement and he pulls back immediately.

 

“Shit.” He looks down at the ground as you replace the scarf around your neck. “They said you got hurt but I had no idea… I should’ve been there with you guys-”

 

“Jonathan.” You make eye contact again as you interrupt him. “I’ll live.”

 

He still looks furious and ashamed of himself but just says, “Okay.” You turn and walk over to join the rest of the group, Jonathan following behind.

 

"You look like shit," Max greets you.

 

You didn't fight the smile that grew. "Feel like it too." A couple of the kids wince when they hear how bad your voice still sounds. You nod a small greeting to Nancy, who returns the gesture with an awkward smile. "Now what are we doing here?"

 

They explain what Nancy and Jonathan had found, then the connection that brought the 2 groups together. The squad had then ventured back to the Holloway House, who they also believed to be 'Flayed', and now they were coming back here to break some old woman out.

 

The only question that comes up for you is with that last part. "Break an old woman out of the hospital?"

 

"Also Flayed," Mike says, as if that answers everything. You give him a flat look that lets him know it didn't.

 

"When I was with Mrs. Driscoll," Nancy continues from Mike's lackluster answer, "she kept talking about needing to 'go back.' We think she means to the Mind Flayer. So if we let her go back and we follow her…"

 

You nod, a voiceless answer that means you understand the goal. And while you want to start questioning what everyone plans to do when they find the Mind Flayer, your throat hurts too much to talk and you’re sure Nancy already has a plan for that far ahead.

 

Well, you’re 80% sure.

 

The 8 of you enter the hospital and are immediately stopped by the nurse at the front desk. And while Nancy tries to give an argument to why you should all be allowed inside (you'd say a convincing argument but you would be lying), the group is forced to separate again. Nancy and Jonathan go up to see Driscoll and you stay in the lobby with the Party.

 

Time begins to drag by. Exhausted, in pain, and surrounded by a bunch of bored 14 year olds is not a winning combination. You find yourself wondering if there’s a way for you to get one of the hospital ice packs and apply it to your neck to help with the pain, but there is no way you'd be able to do that without questions being asked. So you sit in an uncomfortable chair in the hospital lobby and wait for something to happen.

 

You get the low down on the couple drama from Will to pass the time. He also explains the argument over him wanting to play D&D and you do what you can to console him. It doesn't take much: even as he explained it, it felt more like something that had bothered him but he was mostly over now. When he’s done talking, you shift closer to him. He rests his head on your shoulder and you rest yours on top of his as you let your eyes fall closed.

 

You wake up as Will gets to his feet beside you. Blinking through bleary eyes, you try to find what got his attention as he stares at the ceiling. You rub the back of your hand against one of your eyelids and blink them back open just in time to see the lights flicker.

 

Your heart skips a beat. Frozen, you and Will both stare up at the ceiling, waiting to see if it happens again.

 

The next few things happen quickly. You and Will tell the rest of the group something was very wrong. You file past the nurse telling you all not to go and make your way upstairs. When you get to the 3rd floor landing, you hear Jonathan screaming for Nancy, so you pull the group toward the sound.

 

Jonathan is trying to beat down a door when you find him. As soon as he sees you all, no discussion needed, he backs up and Eleven rips down the door. The creature inside is like nothing you’ve ever seen.

 

Without hesitation, El slams the creature around the room. Hitting each wall, the ceiling, the floor. It’s looking rough but still getting back up, so with a scream of effort El sends the creature sailing through the window and down to the street. The kids go rushing for it while you and Jonathan stumble over debris to get inside and help Nancy up.

 

By the time the 3 of you make it back outside, the last of the sludge that made up the monster is oozing into the drain, leaving only a few pieces of bone behind.

 

You speak first despite the pain it causes you. "What the hell was that thing?!"

 

Nancy looks awful. There’s weird slime on her face and clothes and she has a thousand yard stare. "Tom and Bruce were waiting for us." You all go dead silent as she speaks. "Both Flayed. They said they were hoping we'd come back. They tried to kill us." She pauses there, and you recognize what’s happening. The flashbacks that seem to take you over. You've experienced it yourself enough. But she’s able to shake it off. "We got separated. But managed to kill them. Then they just… Melted. Into goo, just like that. And then the goo started moving." You fight the urge to gag. "The goo from both bodies came together and made that creature."

 

"Where do you think it's going?" Max asks, eyes still on the remaining bone fragments above the drain.

 

Mike steps up. "Back to the source."

 

You all stand there quietly for a long time. Either recovering, or thinking, you're not sure. But you all stare at the remains of the two-men-turned-creature until you’re sure that stuff isn't about to come back up again.

 

"We should get out of here," Jonathan crosses his arms over his chest, looking uncomfortable. "Find somewhere safe."

 

"Figure out our next move," Lucas adds.

 

"The cabin," El offers, getting a few confused looks. "Hopper's cabin. We can go there."

 

Nancy and Jonathan agree and the 2 of them and the kids all walk away, leaving you still staring back at the drain pipe.

 

Max notices first. She calls your name, which you look at, and she has a confused expression. The rest of the group stops to also look at you. "Are you coming?"

 

After a moment of careful consideration, you shake your head. Jonathan immediately takes a few steps toward you but you hold up a hand to stop him. "I'm going to go find Dustin. And Steve," your heart hurts more than your throat does from using your voice. "They need to know what's going on."

 

Will is concerned. "We haven't heard from either of them for over 2 days."

 

"And I don't think we should split up," Nancy adds.

 

But you’re determined. "I'll find them. And then we can all handle this together." Jonathan still looks like he wants to argue so you just pull the walkie talkie out of your bag. "You guys know what frequency I'm on if you need me. I'll have it with me at all times."

 

Jonathan sighs, knowing from experience there’s no point in arguing with you now. "Alright. But you better check in every 2 hours letting us know you're okay. And be careful."

 

You nod to agree, trying to comfort him with a smile. The kids look between each other for a few seconds while Nancy and Jonathan study you, as if they’re memorizing what you look like in case they have to make missing persons posters later. The group eventually turns and continues on to Nancy's car.

 

You stand in the parking lot and watch as they reverse and pull out of the lot. Off toward Hopper's cabin. And then you’re alone. With the Mind Flayer and his army on the loose.

 

Maybe not your best idea. But you have a job to do.

Chapter 8

Thursday, July 4th, 1985 - Your House, West Hawkins

 

You managed about 4 hours of interrupted sleep before the sun came up. When the light began to shine in your window, you accepted defeat and got ready for what was probably about to be a very long day.

 

The 4th of July had never been a holiday you enjoyed. Too loud, too rowdy, too over the top. It felt like there had to be better ways to celebrate the anniversary of America becoming an independent country than giant, exploding lights and barbeque cookouts. But maybe you just weren’t any fun.

 

Given the circumstances of everything that was going on, you were hating this holiday a bit more than usual.

 

You geared up; planning for spy work, monster hunting, reconnaissance, the works. A black, long sleeve turtleneck (covered the bruising quite well) tucked into a pair of burgundy corduroy pants that were loose enough to run in but not loose enough to be a catching hazard. Deciding you looked a little bit too strange, you layered a light denim vest over the turtleneck to add some normalcy. Some white Nike sneakers for easy walking and running. Into a crossbody bag went your wallet, car keys, walkie talkie, essentials, a pocket knife, and a taser you’d managed to buy from a military supply outside of town. It had given you a bit of peace in the spring time and now you were even more glad to have it.

 

It felt a little bit like preparing for battle. For all you knew, it could have been. But you still had some hope that it wouldn’t come to that.

 

You grabbed a bottle of water and something quick to eat for breakfast and got started on your journey.

 

First stop was Steve’s house. As much as you hated to admit it, while you had originally added his name as an afterthought for your goal of splitting up, you wanted to find him just as much as you wanted to find Dustin. If only to figure out what he had been doing while ignoring you.

 

His car wasn’t in the driveway when you pulled up. Neither were his parent’s, but that was not surprising. It was way too early in the day for Steve to be out, so the only conclusion was that he didn’t go home last night. The multiple newspapers on the doorstep led you to believe he hadn’t been home in 2 or 3 days.

 

Your brain decided it was because he was trying so hard to avoid you, because you knew where he lived. Who knows, maybe he went home with another girl and stayed there. Maybe it was Robin. They had seemed awfully chummy when you met her.

 

That was a stupid train of thought. And counterproductive.

 

Second stop was Dustin’s house. Claudia Henderson opened the door and was just delighted to see you. You’d asked her about Dustin and she said she hadn’t seen him for a day or two, that he was sleeping over with one of the other boys at their house. You weren’t about to tell her she was wrong. 

 

While you had planned to immediately be on your way, Claudia invited you inside to have brunch with her. She’d made a lot of food hoping that Dustin would have come home, potentially with his friends in tow. You got the feeling she was pretty lonely without him around. So you lost 2 hours of searching to eating pancakes and eggs with Mrs. Henderson. Luckily, she didn’t ask about your turtleneck for summer or the rasp that remained in your voice, which you were grateful for.

 

You checked the school, the library, the junkyard, the lakefront where you and Steve had gone to a party, and the general downtown area. You drove past Dustin’s favorite teacher’s house, Mr. Clarke, just in case. You even briefly considered asking around to see where Robin lived, but that felt beyond creepy and also even considering finding Steve there made white, hot jealousy flare up inside you. Which was bullshit because he wasn’t even yours.

 

By the time you were pulling into the parking lot of Starcourt Mall, it was getting close to dinner time.

Thursday, July 4th, 1985 - Starcourt Mall

 

On a circle of the concrete maze of parking spots, you actually find Steve’s BMW. You park right next to it and consider just sitting in your car and waiting for him to come out, but who knows how long that might take. You don’t know if he’s working or just here for fun, so you might as well go to Scoops Ahoy first. 

 

No luck. In fact, the shop’s closed. It isn’t supposed to be at this time, but the lights are off and the gate is shut. Maybe they closed early because of the holiday? Most of the other food stalls are still open. But it does look like most of them are preparing to close earlier than normal. You grab some Chinese food from Imperial Panda just in case, not knowing when the next time you’ll have food readily available will be.

 

You do another check in with the group at the cabin over your radio. Apparently El had been contacted by Billy in the Void and now they're fearing the worst, gearing up for something coming their way. You ask if you should head that way but Will assures you they can handle it, it’s better for you to continue on your own mission. You hope they really can handle it. They have El. That has to be more than enough.

 

After confirming the next check in time on your wrist watch, you dial your radio frequency back to its normal setting and start to put it back in your bag when a burst of static comes out of it. You look around to see if anyone is watching you, then duck behind a pillar to hold the walkie close. You press down the call button. “Hello?”

 

More static. Then a voice starts to cut in. … Red… Repeat, code… Hear me?

 

You’d know it anywhere. Dustin. “Dustin, I can barely read you.”

 

Thank God… Offline… Underground… Hurt, maybe drugged…

 

It’s cutting out too much, you can’t understand a single thing he’s trying to say. “Dustin, I can’t understand you. Where are you?”

 

There’s a large burst of static. Then it comes through: In back… Towards movie…

 

You take off running for the theater. There are people staring at you as you practically sprint up the escalator but you do not give a single shit. You know where Dustin is going and he said something about someone being hurt. There is no time to hesitate.

 

Slowing down as you breach the carpeted floor, you take a quick scan of the area. The box office is empty; the last showing of the night, Back to the Future, had already started, so whoever had been attending it tonight had already left. The shift lead probably wouldn’t be by to count the drawer until the movie was over. You don’t see any sign of Dustin in the lobby so you push further in.

 

Only two of the theaters are currently occupied, only having a few showings going due to the holiday. You’re reluctant to think Dustin had gone into either if he had been trying to get help. After checking both bathrooms and coming up empty, you go for the door to the back hallways that you use to let the kids sneak in. He had said ‘in back’, so maybe he meant they were there and headed this way.

 

A moment after you turn the handle to open the door, it pushes out toward you with a force that knocks you down. You yelp on instinct as your ass hits the ground, immediately tearing up at the pain it brought to your throat and your other bruises. 

 

“Oh my god, I have never been so happy to see you,” you blink the tears away just in time to see Dustin Henderson drop to his knees at your side and tackle you in a hug. It hurts like hell and you can’t hide the pained grunt that travels from your gut and up, but you hug him back just as fiercely.

 

You push him away and hold him in place in front of you with one hand on each shoulder. “Where the hell have you been?”

 

“No time to explain, we have to hide them,” he answers quickly, jumping to his feet as if remembering something.

 

You also get up, although much slower. “What?”

 

Dustin pulls the door to the back hallway open again and that’s when you see them.

 

Lucas’s little sister, you're pretty sure her name is Erica, is body blocking Steve and Robin from walking away from the theater. Their backs are to you, both of them still wearing their little sailors uniforms. Erica is talking to them sternly, physically pushing them back toward the open door as they complain loudly and excitedly. When she sees you and Dustin on the other side, she rolls her eyes and says, “A little help maybe?”

 

That’s when Steve and Robin turn to see who she's talking to. The moment Steve’s eyes land on yours, he practically squeals. One moment he's 10 feet down the hallway, the next he's tackling you in a hug that knocks the air out of you, physically and emotionally. “Rabbit!” He cries as he squeezes you tight, his voice giddy and dreamy. “I missed you so much!”

 

“I wanna hug too!” And then Robin has her arms wrapped around you both, rocking the two of you back and forth in place. You look back at Dustin, concerned and in pain. He just shrugs, looking half amused and half worried. But most of all, he looks tired.

 

“There might be people after us, we need a place to hide.” Dustin informs you after a moment, squeezing past the hug fest blocking most of the hallway to check behind you.

 

“People?”

 

“Russians,” Steve whispers loudly in your ear, which sends him and Robin giggling. What the hell?

 

“The, uh, the box office. It’s empty and the door can lock. No one will be in there for another 2 hours.”

 

Dustin squeezes past you again, Erica moving with him. “That works, let’s go.”

 

You turn away from the two weirdos, but Steve immediately grabs your hand from behind. Then Robin complains about also wanting to hold your hand so she grabs the other one. You can’t look at either of them, not without everyone seeing how red your face has gotten, so you just use their grips on your hands to drag them along as they giggle and get distracted like toddlers.

 

You, Dustin, Erica, Steve, and Robin all pile into the box office. Erica and Dustin immediately ask for your walkie talkie (Dustin’s died) and leave to go and try to contact the other group. Leaving you alone with Robin and Steve.

 

Finally taking a second to breathe, you get your first actual look at Steve. His left eye is almost completely swollen shut, his lip split, dried blood on his mouth, chin, and under his nose. He looks like absolute shit. Worse than the fight with Billy, which makes your heart burn. You kneel down on the floor next to where he and Robin have collapsed in a fit of laughter, which brings his grinning attention to you. “Steve, what happened to you?”

 

“Russians,” he whispers again, his smile borderline hysterical as he watches you take in his cryptic answer. “Hey, why does your voice sound like that?”

 

Before you can answer, Robin pipes up from where she's laying on the floor. “It’s kinda sexy.”

 

Steve gasps at her like she's a genius. “It is sexy! You’re so right.” His eyes meet yours again and you feel like your face is gonna roast off. “Say something sexy, Rabbit.”

 

Between the whirlwind of finding them, the pain of the reunion, them both saying your fucked up voice sounds sexy, and the fact that he is actually calling you Rabbit in front of someone else (it had only ever happened when the two of you were alone) has your tongue turning to lead in your mouth. Your lips open and close uselessly, unable to say anything at all, let alone decide if you wanted to humor them by saying 'something sexy.'

 

“Wait!” Robin interrupts the moment that probably only you're aware enough to realize is awkward to ask, “Do these stools spin?” She doesn’t wait for an answer, jumping off the floor and plopping down on one of the 3 circle seat stools in the office. When it starts to shift, she squeals. “This is awesome!”

 

You watch in horror as she begins wildly spinning herself around on the stool. Steve decides that it also looks like fun, and he crawls onto the other one. They’re both laughing so hard there are tears in their eyes, challenging each other to see who can spin faster. It would’ve been a very cute and funny moment if not for the dried blood and obvious signs of them being drugged by something.

 

“Where have you two been?”

 

“With the Russians,” Steve supplies again, looking absolutely pleased with himself.

 

It takes everything in you to keep your frustration hidden. “Where are the Russians?”

 

Robin comes to an abrupt stop to look at you. “Oh my god. There’s like this huge bunker under the mall with tunnels and comms rooms and this big device and so. Many. Russians.” You’re about to start asking more questions but Robin seems more than happy to continue talking on her own. “We heard this transmission and I translated it and then I figured out what it meant, which is like, pretty cool in my opinion, and then we found this like loading dock where they transported stuff to the bunker but actually it turned out the loading dock was a huge elevator that took us down into the bunker and we couldn’t figure out how to get back up so we were stuck in the elevator for a long time BUT THEN some dudes came to open it and we took our chance to escape and then had to walk down a really long hallway and then we found this big device thingy that I think is what they built the bunker for but then they found us and we had to run for our lives and we finally found a way for Dustin and Erica to get out because they were also with us so Steve and I stayed and got captured by the Russians while they left and Steve got beat up and then they injected us with this stuff to get us to tell the truth and started asking dumb questions like who do we work for and other stuff because they were morons. OH AND THEN Dustin came and kicked ass and helped us escape but the Russians were following us so that’s when we came to here and now I just really want something to eat.”

 

You stare, open mouthed and unbelieving. “Yeah, what she said,” Steve adds, even though he looks like he hadn’t understood a word of it. Then they’re back to spinning on the stools, giggling and pushing each other. You take the time to compartmentalize.

 

Okay, Russians under Starcourt Mall, in a bunker, with some kind of device, that is obviously a very highly kept secret. Well, maybe not so highly kept if 3 teenagers were able to figure it out, but something they want to keep secret nonetheless. None of that you know how to deal with, so you put that away for later and focus on what is in front of you.

 

Robin and Steve had been drugged by these Russians, which is why they are acting like this. The next obvious step would be to try to flush their systems and hopefully calm down the effects. Considering the state of them, they could be a danger to themselves or others, but also, for all you knew, this drug was a ticking time bomb that could kill them. You need to find a way to clean it out of them. Maybe by having them drink a lot of water or giving them some laxatives or making them throw up. Something to try to wipe the slate clean, so to speak.

 

Before you can decide what your best option is, it seems they have found one for themselves. Robin slowly comes to a stop from her spinning but her body continues to shift on an axis. Her skin goes pale and she looks sweaty as she glanced between you and Steve. “I, uh, I don’t feel so good.”

 

“Me neither,” you look over to see Steve about the same, holding his stomach like he's about to vomit.

 

“Oh shit!” You scramble to stand and throw the door open, just in time for both of them to sprint past you and into the bathroom. By the time you shut the door again and follow them inside, they’re both puking their guts out into the toilets. The sound makes you cringe, so you hang back by the sinks, leaning against one so you can watch in case either of them needs help.

 

They continue retching for another few minutes. When it finally seems to subside, Robin leans back on her heels and Steve rolls to sit beside the toilet, his eyes closed. Robin drops onto the floor, sticking her legs up parallel to the stall and looking up. “The ceiling stopped spinning for me. Is it still spinning for you?”

 

Steve hangs his head back before opening his eyes. “Holy shit. No. You think we puked it all up?”

 

“Probably not, but hopefully most of it.” Steve’s head rips toward you, his eyes wide as he looks at you as if he just realized you were here. “Oh,” a sheepish smile comes to his face, “Hey.”

 

“Hi.” You can’t help but smile when you make eye contact with him. You don’t know if you’re still allowed to be mad or not. Better to figure it out later. You look to Robin, who has turned to sit against the wall perpendicular to the toilet. “Hey,” you say to her next.

 

“Hello,” she groans, crossing her arms over her knees and ducking her head down. “Ask me something, interrogate me. To see if it’s gone?”

 

“Uh, okay.” Steve thinks for a moment before it comes to him, and you watch as he struggles to not laugh at his own thoughts. “When was the last time you peed your pants?”

 

“Today.” Robin does not hesitate as she raises her head, looking between you and the direction Steve’s voice was coming from.

 

You can’t help the amused snort that leaves you as you cross your arms over your chest. “What?”

 

She can’t stop herself from laughing either. “When the Russian doctor took out the bone saw.”

 

“Oh, my god.” Steve starts to cackle, looking like he absolutely had not anticipated that answer.

 

“It was just a little bit though,” her voice comes out high pitched as she uses her hand in a pinch motion to indicate how small it was.

 

“Definitely still in her system,” you confirm as the three of you continue laughing.

 

“All right, my turn.” Robin adjusts to sit up straighter.

 

Steve continues to lounge with his arm slung over the toilet, his eyes watching you intensely as he replies to Robin. “Okay. Hit me.”

 

“Have you… ever been in love?”

 

Your heart drops at the same speed as Steve’s smile. “Yep. Nancy Wheeler. First semester, senior year.”

 

You know that, of course you do. But for some reason, hearing it rehashed still hurts. You aren’t sure if it was because she had hurt him so badly, or that he had been with someone else at all.

 

“Are you still in love with Nancy?” Robin continues, not realizing the tension that has settled over the bathroom.

 

“No,” he answers quickly, shaking his head even though she can’t see him.

 

“Why not?” And you realize that both of you are waiting on the answer. You hope it isn’t for the same reasons.

 

He hesitates then, tapping his hand on the top of his knee as he thinks about it. “I think… It’s because I found someone who’s a little better for me.” You feel your heart drop into your stomach. Is he talking about you or Robin? “It’s crazy. Ever since Dustin got home, he’s been saying, ‘You know, you’ve got to find your Suzie.’”

 

“Wait, who’s Suzie?” You find yourself asking, and then immediately regret interrupting him.

 

“It’s some girl from camp, I guess his girlfriend. To be honest with you both, I’m not even 100% sure she’s even real. But that’s not the point,” he physically waves off the thoughts, like they were gnats flying around his head. “The point is, this girl, you know, the one that I like. It’s somebody that I didn’t even talk to in school. And I don’t even know why. Maybe ‘cause Tommy would have made fun of me or… I wouldn’t be prom king. It’s stupid. I mean, Dustin’s right, it’s all just a bunch of bullshit anyway.” He pauses there, his eyes locked on his shoes as he rambles. “Because, when I think about it, I should’ve been hanging out with this girl the whole time. First of all, she’s hilarious. She’s so funny. I feel like, this year, I have laughed harder than I have laughed… In a really long time. And she’s smart, way smarter than me. I found out recently that she literally makes puzzles for fun.”

 

Your heart stutters in your chest. You never told him you did that with the boys. His gaze finally rises, his eyes locking on yours from across the bathroom. “She’s so kind and compassionate. And stubborn and impatient. She cares so much about everyone, and she will drop anything to help someone, no matter what. She’s, honestly, unlike anyone I’ve ever met before.”

 

You break eye contact with him in embarrassment, looking over to where Robin has once again hidden her face in her knees. Steve catches your concerned expression and asks, “Robin? Robin, did you just O-D in there?”

 

Her head comes back up, her voice pained. “No, I… I’m still alive.” Steve pulls himself forward and easily slides under the partition between the stalls so he ends up across from her.

 

“The floor’s disgusting,” Robin gives him a flat look as you also approach, sitting down criss cross outside of the stall.

 

“Yeah, well, I already got a bunch of blood and puke on my shirt, so doesn’t matter.” He flashes a grin at you and then ducks his head to try to meet Robin’s eyes. “What’s up, Rob?”

 

“Do you…” She pauses and hangs her head back like she can’t believe she’s about to say this. “Do you remember what I told you about being in Mrs. Click’s class? About me being jealous, and like, obsessed?”

 

“Yeah?” He says, not really sure what she was getting at.

 

You suddenly feel like you’re intruding. “Robin… I can leave if you just want to talk to Steve-”

 

“No,” she says quickly, looking at you with panicked eyes. “No, I want you to hear this too. I’ve, uh, never told anyone this.” You nod, giving her your full attention as she turns back to Steve. “It isn’t because I had a crush on you. It’s because… She wouldn’t stop staring at you.”

 

Steve, the lovable idiot, asks, “Mrs. Click?”

 

“No,” Robin says through a breathless laugh. “Tammy Thompson.” She looks away from you both as she continues. “I wanted her to look at me. But she couldn’t pull her eyes away from you and your stupid hair.” Another snort leaves you which makes Robin also struggle to not laugh, Steve looking back and forth between the two of you offended. “And I didn’t understand, because you would get bagel crumbs all over the floor. And you asked dumb questions. And you were a douchebag. And you didn’t even like her. And I would go home and just scream into my pillow.”

 

Steve, still just so lovely and dumb, looks at her confused. “But Tammy Thompson’s a girl.”

 

“Steve,” you say softly, his attention moving to you as you give him a pointed look, hoping he will catch up with what Robin is trying to say.

 

“Oh.” Is all he says, looking back at Robin with a little bit of understanding in his eyes.

 

“Oh.” She repeats.

 

“Holy shit.” Steve looks down at his hands in front of him as if they’re foreign objects.

 

“Yeah. Holy shit.” Robin reels back in, looking like she's both relieved to have said it and also terrified of the repercussions. You all sit in thoughtful silence for a few moments, but it proves to be too much for Robin to handle. “Well, anything to say?” She looks between the two of you, desperate for any kind of reaction.

 

Steve answers first. “I mean, yeah. Tammy Thompson, you know, she’s cute and all, but… I mean, she’s a total dud.”

 

“Steve!” You scold, as Robin cries out, “She is not!”

 

“Yes, she is.” He doubles down. “She wants to be, like, a singer.  She wants to move to Nashville or some shit.”

 

“She has dreams,” Robin defends.

 

“She can’t even hold a tune!”

 

You had to agree with him there. “She is kind of tone-deaf.” Robin is shocked that you’re siding with him. “Have you heard her?”

 

“Yes, all the time!”

 

Steve starts to sing, purposely off tune and weird sounding with a teasing smile on his face. “You see me now tonight…”

 

Robin hides her face in her hands. “Shut up.”

 

“You see me,” he continues, rolling his head toward you with the same smile still on his face as you start to giggle.

 

“She does not sound like that,” Robin throws up her hands.

 

“She sounds exactly – that’s a great impression of her,” you manage to get out between your gasping laughs.

 

“She does not! He sounds like a Muppet!”

 

“ She sounds like a Muppet,” he cries out, unable to keep the laughter out of his voice. “She sounds like a Muppet giving birth.” 

 

And then you’re all laughing, struggling to keep upright as Robin and Steve break into song again, both now sounding like Muppets. “And if you could hold me tight, we’ll be holding on forever!”

 

“Exactly.” 

 

“That’s what she sounds like,” you confirm.

 

“I know,” Robin admits finally, sinking down along the wall as you all start to laugh again. 

 

The bathroom door bursts open and you jump to your feet, standing between the door and where they are still sitting on the floor in a defensive stance. “Okay.” Dustin sounds pissed, walking in looking frustrated with Erica trailing behind him. “What the hell?”

Notes:

the boys are back in toooownnn

Chapter 9

Notes:

graphic descriptions of wounds, blood, and Mind Flayer bite things in this chapter
also content warning for PTSD

Thursday, July 4th, 1985 - Starcourt Mall

 

“The movie is about to let out so we just need to blend in with the crowd and get out to your car.” Dustin points at you, “You drove here right?”

 

“Yeah, I parked right next to Steve.” He nods, handing you back your walkie talkie, which you tuck back into your bag. “Why didn’t you guys just go straight to Steve’s car?”

 

“No keys,” Dustin replies, moving his hands like he’s counting something in his head.

 

“Also,” Steve adds, “I wasn’t exactly in driving condition.”

 

“You still aren’t,” you say without looking at him. “So we get to my car and then what? Where are the others?”

 

“On their way here, I think. I’m not sure, the reception wasn’t good wherever they are.”

 

Dustin leaves the circle the 5 of you had created in the bathroom to peek out the door. “Time to move.”

 

You all try to casually file out of the bathroom, you taking the front position just in case. The other 4 could be recognized if the Russians are still searching, so you want to be able to warn them if you see anything ahead. You fold into the crowd, hoping they’re still behind you, as you try to subtly scan the area. Nothing to note so far, but you can’t see the exit yet. Your guard stays up as you glance behind you to make sure you’re still with them.

 

Dustin and Erica are walking side by side, both stick straight, as if they were trying to be casual and failing miserably. Steve and Robin are behind them, doing a bit better at blending in, but also having to try to hide both their fancy uniforms and their visible injuries. When Steve notices you looking back, he tries to smile at you, but you turn forward and pretend you didn’t see it.

 

You were so ready to be mad when you saw him again. To be furious that he kissed you one night and then ignored you the rest. That he had led you on, because there was no way he didn’t know you had feelings for him. But then you find out he’s been held captive for 24 hours in a Russian bunker, bloody and bruised. Being literally tortured, which breaks your heart. So it’s not like he had a choice to contact you, at least not for the last 36 hours or so. You just feel so damn complicated about it. Especially after his little speech in the bathroom. There is no way you can be mad, not after what he went through, you just need some time to get it settled in your brain. Time you don't have. There are way more important things to be dealing with.

 

So caught up in your own thoughts, you don’t notice the 2 security guards checking bags on the way out of the theater. That is not supposed to be happening. You freeze in the crowd, which causes them to make eye contact with you. Dustin, having not been paying attention, collides with your back, and then peeks around you. The guards see him and start to move.

 

“Abort. Abort. Abort!” Dustin calls, his voice gradually raising in volume as the 5 of you turn tail and run the other direction. The entry from the theater into the mall is still open so you head for the escalators down to the 1st level.

 

They’re turned off, the entrances locked.

 

“Shit!” Steve swears as you all stand there in front of the escalators for a moment, before Robin looks back to see the Russians quickly approaching.

 

“Okay.” She says, and then tucks herself inbetween the 2 escalators, using the metal bridge between them as a slide down to the bottom floor.

 

Steve waves the rest of you on, taking the last spot as always. You push Dustin and Erica down first, then make eye contact with Steve for a tense second before sliding down yourself. As soon as you hear Steve’s feet hit the ground behind you, all 5 of you take off running for the exit.

 

You pull ahead, faster than the kids and the other 2 given the day they’ve had, and turn for the parking lot, only to see 2 more guards approaching from that side. Although you want to swear, you silently wave for them to follow you as you veer off toward the food court.

 

The Russians are gaining ground, you can hear their shouts, as you reach the wide open space in the middle of the food court. Most of the safer places to hide are locked down tight, metal grates to keep people out. Your only options are the smaller stalls so you weave through tables over to The Great Cookie, directing each of them to slide/crawl under the flip up countertop. This time you wait until everyone is inside before following.

 

All five of you sit on the floor as close to the counter as you can. You’re out of breath from running and terrified; knowing those men would have no reservations about murdering all of you. Your hand comes up to rest over your mouth, hoping to muffle some of the panting.

 

They’re closing in. You can feel it. One of them is talking into his walkie talkie, right on the other side of the counter, and more footsteps are approaching. A hand grips yours, Steve’s, and you can’t even move to look at him. You just grip it back and squeeze your eyes shut to prepare for the inevitable. 

 

A car alarm starts to go off, but nearby. In the building. Your hand grips Steve harder, almost a white knuckle grip. You hear metal scrape across the floor, one of the Russians says something loudly, and then there’s a huge crash. You instinctively cover your head with your hands as you hear more glass shattering and metal squealing. Then it stops. And it’s silent. The 5 of you all peek over the counter at the same time.

 

All of the Russian guards that were chasing you are dead. Their twisted and bloody bodies are scattered across the floor in front of the stall. Your eyes trail right, where the car that was previously displayed lays upside down and crushed across the hall. Dragging your gaze back to the display, you notice movement on the 2nd level above it.

 

You point, getting the attention of the others, as Nancy, Jonathan, El, and the other kids approach the railing. Dustin lets out an excited “whoop” that has you all smiling with relief.

 

As you and the Scoops Troop make your way back around the counter, the rest of the crew comes downstairs to meet you. Dustin runs up to El, talking about how she threw the car like it was a Hot Wheels toy as they embrace. Lucas and Erica start to argue, Robin is confused about how the car got thrown, Nancy is confused about who Robin is, Jonathan and Nancy are confused that there are Russians involved, and no one but you notices El break off from the rest of the group.

 

You follow as she limps away. “El?” You ask softly, but she doesn’t react, like she can’t even hear you as she comes up to grip her ears. “El?” You ask again, louder. 

 

Her eyes roll back into her head right before she collapses to the ground. 

 

“Holy shit!” You fall to your knees beside her as the rest of the group comes running over. “El, what’s wrong? What is it?”

 

“My leg, my leg.” She repeats through grit teeth, barely conscious as tears stream down her face. You look down at it as Jonathan starts to peel off the bandages you just noticed on her shin.

 

It looks like something out of a nightmare. Several of the surrounding group groans or gags as the oozing, pulsating wound comes into view. It’s twice the size it should be and a mix between purple, red, and black. El looks like she’s about to pass out.

 

“El! El!” Mike cries just as El screams in pain. There’s bubbling from the wound and then something beneath her skin starts to move.

 

“What is that?!” Erica yells.

 

“There’s something in there,” Mike is torn between sounding terrified and disgusted. 

 

Jonathan starts to get to his feet, your eyes locked on him. “Keep her talking. Keep her awake, okay?” Then he’s off and running.

 

“Okay, hey, hey El.” You grip her tighter as her eyes struggle to stay open. “I need you to stay awake, okay?” You look up at the boys, “Let’s get her this way, come on guys.” You assist them as they adjust El’s position on the floor to be leaning into Mike’s lap.

 

Robin starts going off on a tangent about something that happened to her at soccer while you desperately search for Jonathan, feeling like time is running short and you don’t know what is going to happen when it runs out. He comes sprinting back to you all, holding some plastic gloves, a wooden spoon, and a huge kitchen knife. He drops to his knees next to El’s feet.

 

He’s out of breath and looks horrified at what he’s about to do. “Alright, okay, El? This is gonna hurt like hell, okay?” She nods, a whimper coming from her throat. “I need you to stay real still.” She nods again, more tears falling as she trembles. He holds out the wooden spoon. “Here, you might want to bite down on this, okay?”

 

“Holy shit, holy shit,” Dustin looks away as Jonathan prepares the knife.

 

“Do it.” Mike says, his grip tight on El to keep her as still as he can.

 

Jonathan exhales, his breath and hands shaking. “Okay.”

 

He hesitates. His eyes squeeze shut as he struggles to bring the knife down to cut into the wound. You give it a few seconds but he doesn’t move. “Jonathan,” you say softly, your voice gone raspy again. His eyes are wide when he looks at you. “Give me the knife.” He starts to shake his head, settling to try again, but his hands are trembling so badly. “Jonathan,” you crawl across the floor to kneel next to him, taking the knife from his hands. “It’s okay.” Tears fall from his eyes as he finally nods, helping you put on the gloves as he shifts to give you room.

 

You’d always been good under pressure. Always had been, always would be. Compartmentalize. Analytical in the moment. Turn the emotions off. Handle the fallout later. They need you now. “Okay, El, deep breath.” You nod at her and then press the knife down onto the tallest point of the swell. She screams out through the wooden spoon as blood and pus begins to steadily leak out. Several of the others are gagging and gasping around you but you tune it out, focusing on your own breathing as you pull the knife down toward you, splitting the skin for about 3 inches down her shin.

 

The thing beneath El’s skin starts to move rapidly, as if sensing it’s in danger as she cries out. You drop the knife to the side, tracking the movement of it with your eyes as you take another deep breath, then take two of your gloved fingers and press them into the cut on her leg.

 

“Oh my god!” Nancy yells, turning away as you try to move for the object. It’s faster than you, dodging away as you move for it again in the confined space.

 

“I can get it,” you gasp out, doubling down on trying to grab the thing as El starts to struggle in your grip.

 

“Stop!” She screams, removing the spoon from her mouth. “Stop, stop it!” You pull back, your gloved hands, covered in her blood, raised as you breathe heavily. “I can do it.” She whimpers as she starts to sit up, Mike helping her. “I can do it.”

 

You nod, moving out of the way as she rights herself. Everyone watches in silence as she raises her hand. It's obvious that she is really struggling, but as she begins to scream, the creature moves, dragging up toward the top of her shin. Her scream doubles in volume, and the glass wall of the GAP behind you shatters as you all duck. You look back up just in time to see El finally rip the thing out of her leg. It looks like a piece of that monster you all saw at the hospital. She tosses it away with the last of her energy as she collapses forward. The chunk hits the floor with a splat and you watch in horror as it starts to crawl away, making it only a few inches before it’s smashed flat by a black boot.

 

Hopper, Joyce, and some other guy step up to stare at you all from across the hall. Everyone from last year plus more have now all come together. And you all have some stories to tell.

 

---

 

There is planning happening behind you. Hopper, Joyce, Murray, Dustin, and Erica are pouring over maps and drawings of the Russian base as the rest of the group makes a plan on how to get El somewhere safe. And normally, you would be right in the middle of it. Putting your skills to work trying to reach a goal, actionable steps in a plan. Always on the way to somewhere or something better. Always trying, and trying, and trying.

 

And now is not the time to be having a breakdown. Really it’s not. And you’re not having a breakdown, that’s not what this is. You’re just sitting on the floor by yourself, far away from the others. Taking some time alone to try to get the mental image out of your head:

 

Your hand (way too steady for the situation, how were you so calm?) holding a heated kitchen knife (what if it wasn’t clean, what if she gets an infection?) and using it to cut into the skin of your friend (who is barely a teen, a child) as she screams out in pain (pain you’re causing).

 

You’re not having a breakdown.

 

Maybe if you say it enough times it will be true.

 

While you would love to phase out of existence – to physically turn into the ghost you feel like you’ve become, you are unfortunately a person. A real person that can be seen and perceived by others. And you’re not hiding as well as you probably could have. Maybe you didn’t really want to be alone, to hide. Maybe some part of you wanted him to find you. And he does. He finds you easily.

 

You know it’s him without even having to look up. He sits on the step next to you without a word, resting his forearms on his knees as you both lean forward. He doesn’t speak. Maybe out of respect for the silence you sought out or because he just doesn’t know what to say. He’ll wait, always patient. He’ll let you take the lead.

 

So you do that, raspy voice and all. “I’m sorry about what happened to you down there. I can’t imagine what it must have been like.”

 

“Yeah…” His palms softly hit together in a pattern. “Will be something to get drunk about later, that’s for sure.” You see him look at you out of the corner of your eye but you’re not ready to face him yet. “Are you okay?”

 

A loaded question. “Mentally or physically?” You joke, knowing the answer to both questions is the same. When he doesn’t immediately reply, you finally look over.

 

The swelling in his eye has gone down a bit, you can at least see his full iris now. He still looks absolutely beat to hell, but you’re also surprised at how quickly he seems to be recovering physically. Maybe something about constantly getting your ass beat increases your rate of healing. His expression is confused at your question, his eyes scanning you. You remember now that he doesn’t know about what happened with Billy. Other than your voice, you’ve done a pretty good job of hiding your own battle wounds.

 

“I can show it to you. If you want.” You can see the question on the tip of his tongue, Show me what? But instead he just nods. So you reach up and pull down the top of the turtleneck to show off your bruising. It’s probably mostly purple and black by now, maybe a little bit yellow around the edges. Still hurts like hell.

 

You can feel his eyes on you even as you stare up at the ceiling. On the shape of the bruises, how obvious it is what caused them. You wish you knew what he was thinking, what was going through his head as he looked it over. You’ll never know the thoughts, but you can answer when he asks, his voice soft, “What happened?” Your head lowers again so you can look him in the eye.

 

“Billy.” You see some of the fire in him come back then, just at mention of the name. The anger inside, the rage that he pulls on when he needs some help to keep going. When he sees a wrong that needs to be righted, justice to be served. Someone to be protected. “He went after the kids. El got hurt first and needed time. He was going to hurt someone else. I figured it might as well be me.” You look away then, not wanting to see his reaction as you continue to explain. “I didn’t think, I just got in the way. Between him and the kids. And I guess I could’ve died.” You pause to let the weight of that fact settle on you. How that could have easily been the end of you. “But I would do it again. To protect them. I’d do the same thing again and again if it keeps them safe.”

 

As you say it, you know without a doubt that it’s true. That even if you were walking into certain death, you’d do it gladly if it meant any one of those kids would keep on living. That you would put any person in this rag-tag group of monster hunters before yourself, be the sacrifice if one was needed. The blood of the lamb cast to complete the curse.

 

“You shouldn’t have to do that.” Is all he says, and you’re not totally sure what he means. But you’re too tired to try to clarify. Your entire body feels heavy; you’ve been running on so much adrenaline and the fuel gauge is nearing empty.

 

“You did the same thing for Dustin and Erica,” you remind him. That you’re both one in the same in that way. Protective, self sacrificing. There’s probably some kind of psycho-analyzing to do there, about how you both view your own self worth. Maybe some other time.

 

He nods again as he looks off over the rest of the mall. “Can’t argue with you there.” You feel yourself lose focus as your brain goes into overdrive again. 

 

The knife in your hand as it cuts into El’s skin.

 

Her blood on your gloves, your knees, the floor.

 

Her screams as she begs you to stop hurting her.

 

Steve’s hand touches yours. It’s light, timid. The touch brings you back into your body and lets you feel how tense you’d gotten in mere moments, your body preparing for a fight that had passed. You try to breathe out some of it as his fingertips trace along the edge of your palm. “I’m sorry about what happened to you, too.”

 

You weave your fingers between Steve’s and pull at his hand to get him closer. He hesitates for a few moments but scoots over to you on the step, the sides of your thighs now flush against each other. You rest your clasped hands on your knee as you tuck yourself behind his arm, your cheek resting on his shoulder. “Will be something to get drunk about later,” you repeat dryly, which actually gets a chuckle as his hand flexes in yours.

 

Hopper yells out something behind you both and several people start to move. You know your time for hiding is running short. That there are only so many moments you can steal with Steve before it’s time to keep trying to save the world. Again.

 

He seems to realize it too but still takes the extra few seconds to rest his head against yours. His next question is even quieter than the rest of your conversation so far. “Are we gonna be alright, Rabbit?”

 

You’re not sure exactly what he’s asking for. He could be referring to your relationship, whatever it is now. Or maybe the wounds that you are both carrying, physically and mentally. Or maybe some doubt that you’ll be able to save the world this time. Maybe he’s asking all of them at the same time.

 

There’s only one answer you have to give. “I hope so.”

Chapter 10

Thursday, July 4th, 1985 - Starcourt Mall Entrance

 

After you and Steve get the rundown of the plan, you're officially assigned to the Scoops Troop: the name given to the 5 of you who had almost been murdered by Russians. You, Robin, and Steve are to escort Dustin and Erica to some radio tower Dustin built on top of a hill so they’ll be able to guide Murray and Hopper through the bunker. The rest of the group will take Nancy’s station wagon and head for Murray’s house, which is apparently almost a bunker itself. The hope is that Eleven will be safe there while the rest of you try to close the new gate.

 

So the 5 of you push through the food court exit of Starcourt toward the car Hopper said would be there. A car that you were absolutely not expecting to be a fancy convertible.

 

“Oh man!” Steve is ecstatic as soon as he lays eyes on it. “Now this… This is what I’m talkin’ about!”

 

Robin looks at the license plate and then over at you as the group approaches. “Todd-father?”

 

“Screw Todd!” Steve is almost laughing as he jumps the door to slide into the driver seat. “Steve’s her daddy now.”

 

“Did you just talk about yourself in the 3rd person?” Robin asks, climbing the side to get into the middle of the backseat.

 

Erica shares a look with Dustin as they separate to opposite sides of the car. “Did he just call himself daddy?”

 

“Never do that again,” you add as you actually open the door and get into the passenger seat. Erica behind you, Robin in the middle, and Dustin behind Steve, you all put on your seatbelts as Steve starts the car.

 

“All right, where are we going?”

 

“Weathertop.” Dustin answers simply.

 

Your head swivels in his direction, confused. “Like from Lord of the Rings?”

 

Steve also looks back at him, his eyebrows drawn together. “Weather-what?”

 

“Just drive!” Dustin yells, which has Steve turning around with his hands up in defeat.

 

“Okay, Jesus.” His hand touches the back of your seat as he leans around to reverse the car. You struggle to ignore how something so simple can be so weirdly attractive.

 

The beginning of the drive is quiet other than Dustin’s terse directions. Steve follows them without comment and you marvel at his patience. The car makes several turns towards the southeast of town and you find yourselves on a dark road lined with trees.

 

“Dustin, where the hell are we?” You ask, dipping your head to try to see up into the tops of the trees you're driving past.

 

“Yeah, where the hell is this place, man?” Steve agrees with some concern.

 

Dustin sighs. “Relax, we’re almost there.”

 

“Suzie must be pretty special, huh?” Robin asks from beside him. “I mean if you built this thing and lugged it all the way to the middle of nowhere just to talk to her?”

 

“I mean, nobody’s scientifically perfect, but Suzie’s about as close to perfect as any human could possibly be.”

 

Erica scoffs, her hand tapping Steve’s shoulder to make sure she has his attention. “She sounds made-up to me. She sound made-up to you?”

 

He hesitates, the muscle in his jaw rolling as he clenches his teeth. Dustin leans forward. “Why are you hesitating, Steve?”

 

“I’m, I’m – I’m not. I’m not!” He stutters in his rush to try to recover. “I think she sounds real. You know, totally, absolutely real.”

 

Dustin’s focus is on the treeline now. “Left. Turn left.”

 

You turn back toward him. “There’s no road here?”

 

“Turn left here!” He just says again, more forcefully.

 

“Jesus! Hang on!” Steve doesn’t take his foot off the gas as he turns a sharp left off the road and through a wooden fence. You brace yourself against the dashboard as the car violently rocks across the bumpy field. “Henderson, where are we going?!” He sounds panicked and has to raise his voice over how loud the car is as it struggles to traverse the terrain.

 

“Up!” Dustin responds, looking absolutely pleased with himself as Steve presses hard on the gas towards the grassy hill ahead.

 

The Todfthr starts up the incline at a reasonable speed but quickly starts losing acceleration as the wheels turn the dirt.

 

“We’re not gonna make it!” Robin cries, her hands in a death grip on both you and Steve’s seat in front of her.

 

“Yes we are!” Steve flattens the gas pedal to the floor as the car continues to struggle.

 

“Come on, baby,” you say softly, like the car just needs some encouragement to get up the hill.

 

“Come on, baby!” Steve repeats after you, hitting his hand against the steering wheel as the car continues to slow. It makes a bit more slow progress up the hill but gradually comes to a stop. You can hear the wheels turning in the grass as it struggles to get traction just short of the top of the hill. And no matter how hard Steve presses down on the gas pedal, it doesn’t budge. “Come on!” His hand hits the steering wheel again, this time in frustration, as he finally takes his foot off the gas.

 

Robin claps her hand on his shoulder. “I guess even the Toddfather has its limitations.”

 

You all resign yourselves to walking the rest of the way.

Thursday, July 4th, 1985 - Weathertop, Southeast Hawkins

 

The flashing red light at the top of the makeshift antenna comes into view before you’ve even gotten to the top of the hill. “Holy shit, Dustin.”

 

He looks over at you, excited that someone is impressed. “Cool, right? I named it Cerebro, like what Professor Xavier uses to detect mutants all over the world.”

 

“Tch, you would. And exactly how far is the range?”

 

You and the others reach the plateau at the top of the hill. “Half the country at least, maybe more. Confirmed 2,000 miles.”

 

“Dustin, that’s incredible! You made this at camp?” He nods, a huge smile on his face as he settles down next to the receiver. Erica joins him on the grass as you, Robin, and Steve form a semi circle behind them. You make eye contact with Steve, who is looking at you with so much warmth it makes your heart pound. You barely hear Dustin calling in to Murray over it, and tear your eyes away from him to focus back on the antenna.

 

Murray tersely tells Dustin to shut up and he’ll radio in when he needs help, so you’re left to sit on the hill and wait.

 

And holy shit, you hate waiting. It takes about 2 minutes before you start pacing 5 feet away from everyone else.

 

“You should really take a second to slow down while you can.” Steve walks up to stand at the midway point of your pacing path, his arms crossed over his chest. When you look over at him, he is visibly amused while watching you.

 

“Can’t slow down,” you focus back out on the night air. Despite being relatively far from the ‘danger’, you’re on high alert. It still doesn’t feel safe here. Not knowing where the creature is or where Billy is or any of the other Flayed, if there are even any not already turned to flesh goo. “If I slow down, I’m not getting back up.”

 

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. It’s quiet for a moment, other than the whispers of Erica and Dustin talking behind you. Then you feel his hands on your shoulders, bringing you to a stop right in front of him.

 

“Steve-”

 

“Rabbit.” He stops you, his hands traveling from your shoulders to either side of your neck, his thumbs on your jawline. “Just press pause, okay? Take a breather. I’m begging.” You instinctively grip his wrists and pull his hands away from your injured throat, your eyes squeezing shut as you inhale sharply.

 

“Please don’t,” your voice is a shaky whisper as you fight down the adrenaline. “Not there.”

 

“I’m… I’m sorry.” Opening your eyes, you can see the guilt drowning him. You let go of his wrists, his arms dropping to his sides, and wrap your arms around his shoulders. His come up to circle your waist so he can hold you close. “I’m sorry,” he says again.

 

“It’s okay.” You take a deep breath, let the warmth and weight of him against you ground you to reality. “We’ll figure it out.”

 

“Yeah,” he confirms, his voice soft. “Yeah, we will.”

 

This time, you do allow yourself to stand still. To breathe. Not that Steve is giving you much of a choice. But you do feel safe. At least for a moment, here with him. You turn your brain off of survival mode as much as you can.

 

But too soon you feel him tense up in your arms. You pull back to meet his eyes. “Steve?”

 

He is looking directly behind you so you turn in his grip to see what he’s staring at. Looking down over the town, you take a quick scan and see Starcourt. The bright neon lights that could be seen halfway across town are flickering on and off madly. “Hey, guys?” Steve calls behind him, keeping one hand looped around your waist as he looks back to wave over the others. They run up to also look out at what has you both on edge again.

 

Dustin sprints back to the Cerebro, dropping to his knees as he grabs the microphone. “Griswold Family, this is Scoops Troop! Do you copy?” The rest of you gather around him.

 

There’s only static on the other side.

 

“Griswold Family! I repeat, this is Scoops Troop. Do you copy?!”

 

A sound comes from the speaker, one none of you can identify.

 

“Griswold Family, this is Scoops Troop. Please confirm your safety!”

 

There’s a shrieking on the other end, one that sends a chill down your spine. It ends abruptly and then the radio goes silent again.

 

“Griswold Family, this is Scoops Troop! Please confirm your safety,” Dustin repeats into the receiver, and then repeats it again. And again. You and Steve turn toward the outline of the mall in the distance. “Griswold family, do you copy?” The two of you share a look, and you know that you’re both thinking the same thing. “Do you copy?!”

 

He takes your hand and you both take off running. “Where are you going?!” Erica calls after you both.

 

You pause and turn back as Steve lets your hand loose and keeps going to get the car started. “To get them the hell outta there! Stay here, contact the others!” Robin swears and looks about ready to come after you. “Robin, keep them safe, okay?”

 

She looks torn between happy you trust her to stay with them and upset at staying behind. Eventually she steps back. “Okay. Be careful.”

 

“No promises.” You reply with a smile, and she is at least able to let out a small laugh at that.

 

“Got your walkie?” Dustin asks and you pat your bag with a nod. “Stay in touch.” You nod to confirm again, taking off back down the hill as Dustin dials in to Murray.

 

On uneven footing, you struggle to make quick progress but stumble around to the passenger side door as Steve twists the keys in the ignition. You barely have the door shut before he’s putting it in reverse and sending the car flying backwards down the hill. You brace your hands and feet to try to ease the ride, but it’s bumpy until he’s able to turn it around and get back to the road.

 

“Well that was fun,” you mutter as you will down the nausea that rolls through your stomach.

 

“Sorry,” he says again, gunning the gas back toward town. He glances over at you with his hands still in a death grip on the steering wheel. “Do you remember the way back?”

 

“Yeah, I’ve got it.”

 

The only communication between the two of you on your way back to the mall is your directions. You double check the walkie talkie, knife, and taser in your bag just in case. Not knowing what you’re getting into, it makes you feel a bit more prepared.

 

Well past the speed limit, you’re lucky that everyone and their mother is probably at the Fourth of July Fair. The last thing you need is for someone to try to pull you over right now. You know for a fact that neither of you are stopping for anything to get back to the mall. But you’re able to pull into the parking lot right as you see the group that was supposed to be on their way to Murray’s sprinting out of the doors.

 

Steve brings the car to a stop just at the entrance of the parking lot to watch. Jonathan and Nancy run to the hood of her car as Lucas and Will jump into the backseat. You notice that El, Max, and Mike are nowhere to be seen. Nancy and Jonathan look out to their right so you turn to see what they’re looking at.

 

There’s a muscle car revving its engine, headlights pointed directly towards Nancy’s car. “Steve,” you tap the back of your hand against his shoulder to bring his attention to the other car. “Billy.” You both watch as Jonathan runs for the driver’s side door and Nancy follows him around, getting into place in front of the door with a pistol aimed at Billy. As if in answer, the wheels of Billy’s car start to smoke as it struggles to get traction on the concrete. “Steve, he’s gonna hit them.”

 

“No, he’s not.” He gives you a loaded look, one filled with fury and righteous retribution. “We’re gonna hit him.” You know he won’t do it without your approval and there’s only a split second to get going if you’re going to intercept before he can hit Nancy.

 

You make eye contact. “Do it.”

 

His foot hits the gas and you brace yourself against the dashboard. There is probably something absolutely insane about willingly ramming your car into another car, but in Hawkins, stranger things have definitely happened.

 

The next few moments feel like they happen in slow motion. You’re not sure if you’re going to make it in time as Billy speeds toward the parked station wagon. But just as you see Nancy duck for cover, the Toddfather makes impact. Both cars go spinning away from the mall.

 

A scream tears out of your battered throat as the car throws you toward Steve, barely kept in place by your seatbelt. It digs into your skin painfully as the car slides across the concrete. Somehow in the panic, Steve still has the mental capacity to reach for you and grip your forearm tight.

 

The car comes to a grinding halt as you both are thrown the opposite way and then harshly brought back to center. You’re breathing heavily, your head still spinning, as you take his hand in yours without looking over.

 

“Are you alright?” He asks, sounding out of breath and looking over at you.

 

You inhale hard through your nose and let it out through your mouth before you turn to him. “Ask me again later.” That’s when you hear the noise again. The one from the Cerebro. Except clearer and much, much louder. “Oh, shit.” You rise from your seat, using your grip on the top of the windshield to pull you up. Steve does the same, both of you looking up toward the roof of Starcourt just as the Mind Flayer’s monster comes into view.

 

It’s easily 4 times the size of the monster from the hospital and 5 times as terrifying to look at. It screeches out into the night air right as a car horn gets your attention. Jonathan pulls the Wheeler Wagon up alongside your now-wrecked convertible. Nancy sticks her head out the window, “Get in!”

 

You and Steve both climb out of the Toddfather in a rush, but you hesitate as he pulls open the trunk door and waves you to get in. Making a split second decision, you shake your head while he looks on, scared and confused. “Get it away from here, I’m going to get the other kids.”

 

He immediately opens his mouth to fight and looks about ready to drag you inside, but you start backing away. “There’s no time, GO!”

 

And you take off running for the mall as you hear Steve swear behind you, then the sound of the trunk slamming shut and the car peeling off. You’re barely under the mall overhang before the first fleshy foot of the creature hits the parking lot. You duck for cover behind a concrete half-wall, your ass hitting the floor painfully as your shoulders rise and fall with heaving breaths. The sound of more feet almost cracking the concrete sound behind you and then it starts to get further away. You peek over the wall as you watch the hulking creature take off at a surprisingly high speed after the car. Ducking back down, you take a few minutes to catch your breath as you wait for the sound of the monster to fade away.

 

When it’s quiet, you pull yourself up using the wall for support. You take one last look over at where Billy is passed out, possibly dead, in the front seat of his burning Camaro, then turn on your heel back toward the half destroyed food court of Starcourt Mall.

Notes:

NEVER SPLIT THE PARTY

Chapter 11

Notes:

cw: violence

Thursday, July 4th, 1985 - Starcourt Mall Back Hallways

 

It takes you close to 15 minutes to find Max, El, and Mike in the back hallways of Starcourt. You feel pretty lucky to have found them at all.

 

As soon as you catch sight of the 3 of them helping El along from behind, you yell. “Max! El!”

 

They whirl around toward you in shock. Mike continues supporting El as Max runs toward you, almost knocking you over in a hug around your middle. “Woah!” You brace yourself against the force and the pain it causes you as you hug her back, one hand cradling her head to you as you look between the top of her head and the other 2 kids. “Are you all okay?”

 

Mike nods quickly, helping El limp toward you. “We’re okay. Where are the others?”

 

Max pulls away from you as you begin to explain and you barely catch that she seems to be wiping a tear away. “Dustin, Erica, and Robin are still at Weathertop. The others are in Nancy’s car, drawing the Mind Flayer away from the mall.” They all relax a bit at that, knowing the Mind Flayer isn’t immediately on their trail. “We should get out of here, find somewhere to hide El.”

 

“Where would we go?” El asks, adjusting on her bad leg with a wince.

 

That, you don’t know. “Not sure, but anything is better than here. We just have to get to my car.”

 

“Agreed,” is all Max says as she folds her arms over her stomach. She gets back on El’s other side to support her as you lead them toward the loading dock. Not sure if there are Russians or Flayed still around, you pull your taser out of your bag and walk a few feet ahead of them, clearing corners before moving on.

 

It isn’t too long before you’re back to fresh air and night sky. “Come on, there should be a control panel for the gate.” You jog further ahead as they trail behind, going over to the big red button that says [Open] above it. You press it without a second thought and rejoice when the green gate starts to slowly slide open. “Okay, this way.” The kids have caught up to you and you walk with them out of the increasing gap in the gate.

 

There’s movement out of the corner of your eye and you whip toward it. Billy is there: struggling to pull himself out of his car. He’s beaten, bruised, covered in sweat, and dragging himself through broken glass. As the grinding sound of the gate comes to a stop, his eyes fly over you, El, Mike, and then settle on Max.

 

She freezes in place. “Shit.”

 

“Okay, back inside, back inside!” You call, hurrying them on as you keep eyes on Billy. He slowly stands to his full height and turns toward you, looking as much the rabid animal as he did in the gym at the pool. “Shit!” You curse softly and go after the kids, hitting the big red button to close the gate behind you. They’re almost to the door back to the hallways as you book it toward them. Mike opens the door so Max can help El inside, and you grab the door and hold it for him to follow them. Your gaze drifts back to the gate just in time to see Billy grab either side of it and start trying to push it back open. “Fuck!” The kids look back as you let the door fall shut behind you. “Go, go, go!” You urge them forward as you keep a tight grip on your taser.

 

You direct them down another hallway, one that ends in a service elevator. The door to the elevator is in a room off the hall so you usher them all inside with instructions to call the elevator before turning back. Billy approaches from the other end, slowly. Like a lion stalking prey. And you feel like a wounded gazelle facing off against him.

 

But you’re a wounded gazelle trying to protect her babies. So you’ll go down fighting. You square your shoulders and spread your feet as you face him. Your taser buzzes to life in your hand. Your chest rises and falls with a steadying breath. You’re good under pressure. Always have been, always will be. 

 

“I don’t wanna do this, Billy,” you say with a surprising amount of confidence. He doesn’t react at all, still slowly stalking toward you. His face is expressionless and you can see the black veins tracking his skin. The lights flicker above him as he passes. “We don’t have to do this!” You repeat, louder.

 

It’s obvious that he, or the Mind Flayer, thinks that you do have to do this. So be it.

 

The two of you reach for each other at the same time. His arm swings out and around but you cut in the middle, so you connect first. The buzzing end of the taser makes contact with the side of his neck. A pained roar leaves him as he stumbles back away from you. The skin where the taser had hit wilts like paper as he paws at it. But he recovers quickly, his head tilting to the side as he comes for you again. “Billy, stop-”

 

He anticipates your move this time, gripping your wrist in a bruising hold and twisting it away as the taser falls out of your hand and hits the floor with a crack. You hear Max scream your name as Billy’s other hand grips your throat. You don’t even have time to gasp or yelp before he uses his grip on your neck to slam you back against the wall of the hallway.

 

He lets go as you crumple to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut.

 

Your vision fades in and out as you hear Max try to reason with him before crying out. Then Mike is yelling before it gets cut off, the sound of something being thrown against a wall and then hitting the ground. You blink away tears as you start to regain feeling in your fingers. There’s the sound of another struggle but your eyes have cleared enough that you can see your taser. It’s only a few feet from you. If you could just get your arm out from under you, you could get it.

 

Shifting your body, you’re able to slowly get your arm free, but it feels like you’re moving through molasses. Every tiny movement is a struggle. Your fingers twitch as you finally slide your arm out toward it. Before you can make contact, your taser is crushed under Billy’s boot. You try to push yourself away from him but he’s much faster. He delivers a swift kick to your gut that knocks the air out of you, bruising, if not breaking your ribs. “And stay down.” Is all he says before walking off. Through the tears in your eyes, you’re barely able to make out that he’s carrying an unconscious El over his shoulder.

 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. You breathe in and out through your teeth, each inhale making the pain in your stomach flare up brighter again. Stomach rolling, you swallow down the saliva that starts to collect in your mouth in preparation of an upchuck. You have to get up. Make sure Max and Mike are okay, go after El. You have to get up.

 

Bracing yourself, you push your upper body up with your arms. The twist in your stomach makes you cry out as more tears come forward. Nausea rolls through you again along with the waves of throbbing pain. Your head is spinning and you’re disoriented as you continue trying to get to your feet. Leaning on the wall, you’re able to get 70% there before the pain in your gut becomes too much. Hunched over, you angrily wipe away your tears and the snot dripping from your nose and look forward.

 

Max is unconscious on the floor, a red mark painting her cheek. You barely see the shadow of Mike around the corner, also on the floor. “Max,” you croak as loud as you can. She doesn’t respond. Using the wall as a crutch, you shuffle closer. “Max!”

 

She stirs then, her head rolling as she struggles to become aware of her surroundings. Her glazed eyes move over you and then to Mike. “Mike?” She pushes herself onto her hands and knees with some effort, sounding worried as she crawls over to him. “Mike! Get up. Can you hear me? Mike!”

 

As you slowly and shakily push yourself to the doorframe, he groans. There is blood on his face, looks like a broken nose, but he’s blinking awake. Max helps him to his feet then turns to you. “You look like shit.”

 

Remembering the last time she said that makes you snort in laughter, followed quickly by a hiss of pain as you grip your stomach. “Feel like it too,” you repeat back.

 

Mike physically shakes off some of the dizziness he is no doubt feeling. “Where’s El?”

 

“Billy took her.”

 

Max and Mike look at each other panicked. They take up spots on either side of you now and start to basically drag you back the way you came. Tears come to your eyes and you let out a few soft whimpers that get worried looks from Max, but you insist on continuing to move. Mike directs you both back toward the door they use to get from Scoops Ahoy to the movie theater. As the three of you approach it, you hear what sounds like explosions going off on the other side.

 

They push through, heading toward the food court where most of the struggle seems to be. Weaving between the red, white, and blue tables of Scoops, the three of you freeze in the archway.

 

Billy and the Mind Flayer are facing off as El lays by his feet. She’s trying to crawl backwards and away as the giant maw of the Mind Flayer opens and a tentacle begins to slither out. El cries out in fear and the tentacle darts forward but is intercepted by Billy. He groans with strain as he holds it with both hands. “Go! Go!” He yells back at El as she continues to try to shuffle backward on the floor.

 

Max releases you as she steps forward to watch, leaving you to lean against the entrance to Scoops to stay upright. You all watch in horror as more tentacles appear from the Mind Flayer’s body and one by one begin to impale Billy. There are four by your count, making a complete circle around his stomach as he screams in pain. The tentacle in his hands retracts as his arms drop uselessly to his sides. He falls to his knees, the tentacles still connected, as the 5th tentacle rears back again, like a snake ready to strike.

 

It goes straight through his chest.

 

“BILLY!” Max screams right in front of you and you want to grab her, pull her away, block her eyes. But even taking half a step nearly has you crumbling to the floor. If you let go of the wall, you’d immediately collapse. So you just watch, frozen, as the tentacles retract and Billy’s body falls to the floor.

 

After a loaded moment of silence, the Mind Flayer lets out a high pitched squeal. It stumbles forward then back, looking unsteady as it collides with the columns of the food court. It cries out one more time before it hits the ground with a thundering clap.

 

Mike rushes to El as Max slowly approaches Billy. From your point of view, you can barely see Billy’s chest struggle to rise and fall. You can hear Max begging him to get up as she cries over him. His chest rises and falls one more time. It doesn’t move again.

 

Max collapses forward, sobbing uncontrollably. El grabs her from behind and drags her into a hug. They hold onto each other for dear life as they cry.

 

You slide to the floor with a harsh exhale, your hands braced over your aching stomach as you lean back against the archway. Tears fall steadily as you inhale pained breaths and try to calm down your racing heart.

 

There’s a loud crash. Then lots of yelling as what seems like 100 flashlights start to trail around the darkened space. You blink away your tears and watch heavily armed soldiers stream into the food court. A group circles the lifeless creature before the rest begin to fan out, making short calls you don’t understand to each other. One soldier kneels before the 3 teens, and waves them to leave. Mike and Max help El to her feet and they quickly shuffle toward the exit. The same soldier spots you and approaches quickly.

 

“We need to clear the mall, can you walk?” He says, his tone somehow both dismissive and concerned. You shift your foot under you with some difficulty and try to push yourself up. Another yelp of pain tears out of you and you barely moved an inch. Embarrassed and in pain, you shake your head at him. His head leans toward a walkie talkie clipped to his shoulder. “Need a stretcher at Exit A.” Then he spins his assault rifle on its strap, tucking it behind him to free his hands. “I’m gonna lift you, okay?” You nod, fresh tears already collecting as you brace yourself. With one arm looped under your knees and the other hand placed under your armpit, he lifts you off the ground as you cry out. The soldier carries you to the exit where a stretcher is waiting as requested, manned by 2 EMT’s. He sets you down on it and is gone before you can even try to thank him.

 

The EMT’s ask you a rush of questions as they situate you to lay on the rolling bed, which only increases the spinning in your brain. They push you over to one of the many ambulances in the parking lot. You’re given a shot for the pain, a blanket to wrap around your shoulders, and an ice pack for your stomach. Then they rush on to tend to the next person.

 

The pain meds kick in quickly. In just a few minutes, you’re able to push yourself up into a sitting position on the stretcher. Max stands alone a few feet away, also wrapped in a blanket, tears seeming to fall endlessly from her eyes. “Max,” you call, and it comes out mostly a croak, but she hears it all the same. You open your arms and she quickly approaches, pulling herself up to sit next to you as you wrap your arms around her.

 

She trembles in your arms, her face hidden in your chest. You rub her upper back as you squeeze her tight, and it hurts you even with the pain meds. But you don’t care. Not while Max continues to cry her eyes out into your chest. “It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay, Max.”

 

Steve appears out of the crowd, looking around wildly before his eyes land on the two of you. He yells your name and jogs over. “Max, oh my god, are you both okay?” She looks up when he places a light hand on her shoulder. Pulling away from you and sliding off the stretcher to her feet, she wraps her arms tight around his middle and continues to tremble. He hesitates for a moment, his concerned eyes meeting yours before he returns the hug just as tight. She openly cries into his chest and it breaks your heart. You gasp out more tears that send you reeling in pain again. He looks up, noticing the ice pack on your torso and your fresh wounds. One hand on Max’s upper back to continue to hold her close, he reaches the other out toward you. You take it and look up into his watery eyes. The look on his face is asking are you alright?

 

All you can do is nod. You’re alive. The 3 of you are all alive and that means everything is going to be alright.

Chapter 12

Thursday, July 4th, 1985 - Starcourt Mall Parking Lot

 

Max sits between you and Steve on the stretcher for what feels like hours. Her head rests on your shoulder and your cheek on top of her head. Steve has an arm wrapped around you both.

 

Every once in a while, official looking people that say they’re here with Dr. Owens come by to ask you questions. You answer them to the best of your ability with your roasted throat, Steve piping in when he can. Max doesn’t say a word to any of them.

 

The EMTs circle back. They clean wounds and apply some Steri-strips to the cuts on Steve. Check his eye out a bit more thoroughly and say they don’t think there will be any lasting damage, give him an ice pack for the swelling. They do a light exam on your ribs and conclude they’re just badly bruised, none seem to have broken. Your neck looks nasty but should heal up with some time. You’re both given preliminary checks for concussions. Both come back inconclusive. They suggest going to the hospital for further testing but for now, no one is allowed to leave the area. Max’s only injury seems to be the red mark on her cheek, which you learn is from Billy backslapping her so hard she went unconscious.

 

You’d give anything to remove the last few hours from her memory.

 

While the 3 of you sit huddled together, you learn that Hopper didn’t make it. You expect to cry, to feel sad. But truly, you just feel empty again. Numb. Like nothing that’s happening right now is really hitting. Just bouncing back away from you. From your vantage point, you’re able to see Nancy, Jonathan, Will, Joyce, and El all together in the back of one of the ambulances. An EMT is patching up her leg as she stares forward, unseeing.

 

You’d give anything to remove the last few hours from her memory too.

 

You’d give anything to remove the entire day from the memory of every single person here.

 

Looking over to the exit of the mall, 2 people who look like scientists are pushing a gurney with a body bag on it. You use your hand to tuck Max’s face into your neck so she doesn’t see. You know for fact that body bag is Billy. And she’s seen enough today. So you and Steve silently watch them load the body into an armored truck. You’re not able to see the logo on the side but it looks like government issue. You idly wonder where they’re taking him. What they’ll do to him. If the Hargrove’s will get something back to bury.

 

Maybe they’ll give back a fake body like they did with Will. Wouldn’t that be something?

 

They had sent a car out to pick up Dustin, Erica, and Robin from Weathertop, so you see them walk into the mayhem a little while later. Steve murmurs something about being right back and slides off the stretcher to intercept them. There’s a bit of discussion that you can’t hear, mostly Steve talking and gesturing with his hands. Dustin and Robin look over at you and Max, faces full of pity, as Erica looks away from everyone. Lucas approaches her from behind and they check in with each other as best they can while still being two siblings who fight at every turn. Steve pulls Dustin in for a hug, and Robin wraps her arms around them both.

 

When they separate, Dustin walks over to join Mike and the Byer’s group in their ambulance. Erica is asked to join Murray over to the side to answer questions about the Russian base, and Lucas goes with her. Robin joins you, Max, and Steve back on your stretcher.

 

Eventually, the official people circle back. Get your names, addresses, phone numbers. Say that there will need to be debriefs over the next few days that you’ll all be required to attend. Until then, none of you are allowed to talk about what happened. The story to feed your parents and anyone who asks is that there was a huge fire in the mall, destroying it.

 

You, Max, and Steve agree wordlessly, having been through the same debrief process last year. Robin is a bit more confused, asking question after question that the agents impatiently answer. You’re each given a card that only has a phone number on it, nothing else. You’re instructed to call it if anything comes up related to the Upside Down.

 

Robin turns on the 3 of you, looking like she’s ready to ask more questions. She freezes when you make eye contact, then seems like she decides against it as she faces forward again. You all must look as run down as you feel.

 

Mrs. Hargrove comes to get Max. She’s crying as they embrace, whispering how happy she is that her daughter is okay. You try to ignore the painful stab of jealousy in your chest as her mom escorts her away.

 

Robin’s dad appears next. He’s just as eccentric as she is and they speak animatedly to each other as they walk away. That leaves you and Steve on the stretcher. He scoots a bit closer to you, your thighs touching again, as he pulls you back in, his arm around your shoulders. You lean into him, weaving your fingers between his on the hand that is draped over your shoulder. Neither of you say a word.

 

An agent approaches you again a little while later. “We weren’t able to get in contact with either of your parents.” Neither of you are surprised. “But you are both 18, so we won’t require them to be here before we dismiss you. You’re free to leave whenever you wish. We’ll be in contact.”

 

Steve stands first, offering you his hand. You move the melting ice pack off to the side and take it, getting up with some wincing. “Do you want to go get checked out? For the concussions?” He asks, still holding your hand. You shake your head, and he looks relieved. “I didn’t want to go either.”

 

The Wheeler parents and Sinclair parents had already come by to collect their children, so only the 3 Byer’s and El remain on site. You use your grip on Steve’s hand to pull him over to them.

 

El still has a thousand yard stare and doesn’t even seem to realize that you’ve approached. Joyce is wrapped around Will from behind as he sits on the edge of the ambulance. Jonathan sits behind them, his forearms resting on his knees as he stares at the wall.

 

Joyce disentagles herself when she sees you, pulling you into a tight hug that hurts a ton. “Are you alright? Please tell me you’re okay.”

 

“I’m okay,” you confirm in a rasp, returning her hug. “I’m alright. Are you okay?”

 

She pulls away a bit to look into your eyes, fresh tears collecting in hers. “Hop… He – he didn’t-”

 

You pull her in again, stopping her from explaining. “I know, it’s okay. I know.” She exhales shakily in your arms, shrinking several inches as she relaxes into your embrace. You look over her shoulder at the rest of the group. El doesn’t move, doesn’t seem to react to anything. Will is looking at you and his mom sadly. You watch as Jonathan and Steve make eye contact and then give each other a nod of acknowledgment, not saying a word.

 

Pulling away from Joyce, you step back to stand next to Steve again. “How long will you have to stay here?”

 

Joyce shrugs, her voice dropping low so only you can hear her. “Owens is dealing with some paperwork. Trying to get me assigned as El’s legal guardian so I can take her back home with me. We should be able to leave soon.” You nod, reaching out for her hand. She takes it, giving yours a reassuring squeeze. “You should come back with us too. We have the room.”

 

You shake your head, letting your hand drop from hers as your other takes Steve’s. “I’m going to take Steve home.” Her eyes drop to your held hands and then move back and forth between you. Steve tenses slightly as she seems to size him up. “We’ll stay together, at least for tonight.”

 

Having not actually confirmed that with him, you’re surprised when he immediately steps in to add, “We’ll actually be at her house. I know you have the number, so you can check in whenever you want.” You glance over at him and he smiles softly at you. “We’ll watch out for each other.”

 

“Alright. But you’re still welcome if you change your mind. We’ll talk soon?” You nod, giving her the best smile you can manage. As always, her concern for you almost brings tears to your eyes. You will them back down as you turn around, Steve in tow.

 

A few yards away, you let your hands drop. He looks disappointed and you try not to think too much about it. “You really don’t have to stay with me, I can just drop you off at home.”

 

“No, I, uh, I would feel a lot better if we stayed together.” You meet his eyes, trying to see if he’s being sincere or just placating you. He looks nervous but sincere. You exhale through your nose.

 

“Will you drive?”

Friday, July 5th, 1985 - Your House, West Hawkins

 

Neither you nor Steve say a word as he drives your car back to your house on the west side of town. By the time he pulls into your driveway, it’s just after midnight.

 

He’s deathly silent as he hands you back your keys and follows you into your house. You walk into the kitchen and flip on the light above the stove; a soft, warm light that diffuses out to your kitchen table. It casts familiar shadows that bring you a little bit of comfort. You gesture to the table for Steve to sit and grab both of you a glass of water. Setting the glass down in front of him, you take your place in the chair directly across from him.

 

“Thanks,” he offers a small smile as he holds the cool glass in his hand. He takes a small sip, swallows it, and then dives back in to down the entire glass. You watch his throat bob up and down as he inhales the water and then sets the empty glass back on the table with an exhale.

 

“Want some more?” You try to make it teasing, and get halfway there, you can tell by how he starts to look a bit embarrassed.

 

“Nah, I’m alright. Thank you though.”

 

Another long silence stretches before you. Your leg bounces with nervous energy, your heel hitting a rhythm on the floor. His index finger taps against the empty glass as you both seem to look anywhere but at each other.

 

You speak at the same time. “Do you think-” “How long-”

 

Both of you stop, smiles growing on your faces. He turns his hand out toward you. “You first.”

 

You clear your throat, hoping to clear up some of the throaty rasp that remains. “How long were you all underground?”

 

His expression drops as his gaze shifts away from you. “Uh… I think it was 2 days. We got trapped in the elevator on Tuesday night. And today is…?”

 

“Thursday.” You confirm as he nods in disbelief. “Well, it’s technically Friday now, but you know what I mean.” Another moment of silence. “When was the last time you ate?”

 

“Robin, Dustin, and I were able to scrounge up some food before we left for Weathertop.” You nod, satisfied with that answer. You’d been worried he hadn’t had anything at all since he was captured. “And you? When was the last time you ate?”

 

“Before I found you all at the movie theater.” His eyebrows draw together, like he’s struggling to remember when that happened. “Before we hid in the food court.” This sparks more recollection in his eyes.

 

“Okay, good. Are you hungry now?” He asks, and you shake your head no. You probably should be, but even just taking sips of your water right now feels like a struggle. Anything more than that and you’d surely get sick. You watch as his expression drops to concern and confusion again. “I don’t… I don’t remember what happened for a little while there.” You’re not surprised, but wait for him to continue. “Robin and I were strapped down to chairs, back to back.” His teeth clench and he swallows. “They gave us some kind of shot.” A visible shiver runs through him as he remembers it. “Then everything gets pretty fuzzy. I think I might have bits and pieces. The next thing I remember clearly is seeing the back of your head,” he makes eye contact with you again, “we were following you out of the movie theater, but the Russians were waiting for us.”

 

You take another sip of your water. “I can try to fill in the blanks, if you want?” He nods, his face tense and serious as he leans back in his chair. “Dustin and Erica rescued you from the Russians. I don’t know the specifics, but I know they were able to distract the guards and get you both back to the elevator. Once they got to the surface, Dustin used the last of his radio battery to get a message to me. I was already in the mall, looking for you both.” His expression softens at that. “I got to the theater and let you all in the back door. You and Robin… You were both loopy, giggling. Talking nonsense.” He cringes just at the idea of it. “Dustin said you’d probably been drugged by Russians and we needed to hide you. So I locked you both in the box office with me while Dustin contacted the others.”

 

“I didn’t say anything too weird, I hope?” He looks slightly afraid of the answer.

 

A smile comes to your face as you remember. “You and Robin said my raspy voice was ‘kinda sexy’.” He groans through a smile, his hand coming up to cover his eyes in embarrassment. “Then you both started spinning on the stools in the office until you made yourselves sick. You barely made it to the toilet before you threw up.”

 

His head tilts to the side. “I think I remember some of what happened in the bathroom.” He rubs his temple as he struggles to recall. “I asked Robin… When was the last time she peed her pants?” He looks at you for confirmation and you nod. “And she said today.” You both chuckle, sharing a look. “She also told us that she… Had a crush on Tammy Thompson. And we started to sing like Muppets.”

 

You nod again, still smiling. “You’ve got it.” He left out the part where he talked about having feelings for you. You’re not sure if it’s because he doesn’t remember or he doesn’t want to say it. You’re not about to ask.

 

“Thank you.” He says, reaching his hand across the table. You place yours on top of it. “For helping us.”

 

“Of course, Steve. Nowhere else I’d rather be.” His grateful smile has the butterflies returning. You withdraw your hand and take a long sip of your water to try to chase away the feeling. “What was it that you were going to say? When we interrupted each other?”

 

“Oh,” he rubs the back of his neck. “I was going to ask if it would be alright if I took a shower? I, uh, feel pretty nasty.”

 

“Oh! Yeah, of course.” You push yourself to stand, moving too quickly and sending a sharp pain through your abdomen. Your hands hit the table as you bend forward with a groan. Steve immediately rounds the table to your side, his hands hovering like he isn’t sure what to do. “I’m alright, I’m good.” You take a few more breaths and slowly straighten your back. “Can you… Would you help me up the stairs?”

 

“Just lean on me,” he says, carefully placing an arm around your torso to support you. “I’ve got you.”

 

You both slowly make your way up the stairs and into your bedroom. Steve steps over to the bedside table to turn on your lamp as you slowly lower yourself onto the edge of your bed. “I’m not sure what will fit you. The 2nd drawer of my dresser has some sweatpants and other comfy stuff, if you want to go dig through it.”

 

“You sure?” He asks, and you nod in confirmation, touched that he wanted to double check before he went rooting around in your things. He steps around the bed and pulls open the drawer, taking a few moments to produce a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt that he seems satisfied with.

 

“You know where the bathroom is. There are towels in the closet. Feel free to use anything in there.”

 

He comes back around the bed to stand in front of you. “Thank you, Rabbit. I’ll try to be quick.”

 

“No need, take your time,” you reply, even though it’s a lie. He hasn’t even left yet and you’re already wishing he was back. He hesitates for a moment, then leans forward to press a soft kiss onto the top of your head before he leaves the room.

 

You don’t move an inch until you hear the shower turn on. Slowly, so slowly to try not to cause yourself more pain, you ease the strap of your bag over your head and toss it across the room. Then you slip the jean vest off your shoulders and toss that too. Reaching for your shoes is a struggle and you end up just having to grit your teeth and get through it until your shoes and socks are off. You have to take a moment to recover from that.

 

The silence is deafening. The hum of the shower isn’t enough to keep it at bay. It feels like it’s crushing you, tightening around you like a snake.

 

Flashes of images and sounds stream across your closed eyelids and through the buzzing in your ears.

 

Billy beating Steve’s face in.

 

Will screaming at them to let him go.

 

The tunnels under Hess farm, demodogs running straight toward you.

 

Billy hovering over you with a smile, a death grip on your throat.

 

The knife in your hand as it cuts into El’s skin.

 

Her screams as she begs you to stop.

 

The rage in Billy’s eyes as he throws you into the wall.

 

Max screaming Billy’s name as the Mind Flayer tears him apart.

 

You don’t realize you're pushing in the bathroom door until you feel the steam of the air on your face.

 

Steve’s head peeks around the shower curtain, his hair dripping onto the tile floor. He looks confused and then worried. “Rabbit?”

 

Not really even sure how this happened, you stutter in the open doorway. “I... I’m sorry, I don’t – I’ll go. Sorry.”

 

“Wait.” You meet his eyes again, a few tears you didn’t realize were in your eyes falling down your cheeks. “Stay. I’m almost finished. Then you can shower.” Your eyes must give away your hesitation, your fear of bothering him, because he doubles down. “Please stay.”

 

“Okay.” You step inside, the tile cool on your bare feet. You pull the door closed behind you and softly walk over to lean against the sink as he ducks back behind the shower curtain. Neither of you say a word as he takes a few more minutes to finish and then turn off the water. His hand comes out from behind the curtain to pull the towel in with him, a bit of shuffling occurs, and then he’s pulling open the shower curtain with the towel wrapped around his hips. You steal a glance but then return your gaze to the floor, hoping your face isn’t as red as it feels.

 

“I’m gonna drop the towel to put on pants. You can, uh, close your eyes, I guess? If you want? Or look away?” He sounds nervous and you just nod, cupping your hand around your eyes so you can’t see in his direction. You hear the towel land somewhere and then it sounds like he does a few little hops to get into the pants, which brings a smile to your face. “Okay, all good,” he says and you look up to see him placing the towel around his shoulders. He’s still shirtless, probably so his hair doesn’t make it all wet, and the sweatpants are comically short on him. An amused snort leaves your nose and you bring your hand up to cover your mouth. “What?” He says, looking down at his ankles before his smile returns to you. “I think it looks great.”

 

“Mhmm, great is a word.” You let your hand drop down to your side, exhaustion and sadness taking over you again.

 

“Do you want me to stay? While you shower?” His expression is soft, his fingers twitching like he wants to reach out to you. “I’ll go if you want, but I just thought…”

 

“If – if you don’t mind? I don’t really want to be alone.”

 

He nods, a bit relieved. “Yeah, sure. I don’t mind at all.” You both stare at each other, like you’re not really sure what to do. “I’ll, uh, turn around? So you can get undressed?”

 

“Okay.” He dutifully turns his back to you, giving you a prime view of how drops of water continue to slowly cascade down his broad shoulders. You allow yourself a moment to appreciate it before you reach for the hem of your turtleneck.

 

You barely reach the band of your bra before the pain hits, a soft whimper leaving you. “Rabbit?” Steve almost turns to look but corrects himself, turning back as he continues to address you. “You okay?”

 

“Yeah,” you wince, a bit embarrassed. “Just hurts.”

 

“Do you… Do you want help?” His offer makes your heart beat painfully in your chest. When you don’t immediately respond, he rushes to continue. “I can keep my eyes closed, I don’t have to look. And feel free to tell me to fuck off I just-”

 

You interrupt him to say, “Yes.” Nervous butterflies take over your stomach again. “If you don’t mind helping me, I’d appreciate it.”

 

He glances back, as if to make sure you’re still decent before he turns and steps in front of you. He looks at you again, like he wants to make sure what he’s doing is okay, before he slowly reaches for the hem of your shirt. His eyes close as he takes the fabric between his fingers. “It’s okay, Steve.” He pauses. “You can look. I… I don’t mind.”

 

His brown eyes blink open, looking into yours. He gives a stiff nod as he starts to lift your shirt again. The hem lifts over your ribcage and he carefully assists you in pulling your arms out of the sleeves with as little pain as possible. He uses his fingers to pull open the tight neckline as he slips it over your head and lets it fall to the floor. His eyes widen, and you hope that maybe he’s looking at your bra or your chest, but you watch his eyes trail from the bruises along your neck to the nightmarish red and purple painting across your abdomen. Your teeth clench as more tears slide out. “Not very pretty, are they?”

 

You make eye contact again as his face falls. “You must be in a lot of pain.”

 

“Looks worse than it is.” You lie, trying to deflect his concern. He shakes his head, like he knows you’re lying. “Was better before the pain meds started wearing off. Just really ugly.”

 

Your name leaves his lips – softly, reverently. You meet his eyes as he slowly drops, kneeling in front of you. Watching with wide eyes, he leans forward to press a soft kiss against your stomach, right on the worst of the bruising. You suck in a breath as he looks up at you. “You’re beautiful.”

 

Your hand comes up to cup his jaw, your thumb grazing over his cheekbone. A whirlwind of emotions threatens to overtake you as you struggle not to cry. “You’re incredible,” you reply, your voice catching. His eyelids flutter closed as he leans his face into your hand. “Thank you.”

 

He doesn’t respond again, just slowly gets to his feet and helps you slide your pants down your legs. You wave him off as you step out of them, and he turns back around as you remove your bra and let your underwear fall to the floor. The curtain rings sing along the metal rod as you pull it open and then close it behind you. The water is already mostly warm when you turn it on, left over from Steve’s shower.

 

“I’m going to go get you some clothes, is that okay?”

 

“Yeah, that’s fine. Thank you.”

 

“I’ll just be a minute. I will be right back.” He reassures you twice as you hear the bathroom door open.

 

Desperate not to think too much, you focus on washing the grime out of your hair and the sweat from your body. It’s slow work given the state of you, but you’re able to at least wash the shampoo and soap off before Steve announces that he’s back.

 

“I didn’t know what you wanted to wear so I grabbed a couple of different things. You can pick what you want when you’re ready.” His thoughtfulness hits you again, warming your heart and melting your walls. When you don’t immediately respond, he checks in. “Rabbit? You okay in there?”

 

“Yeah… Yeah, I’m okay. Thank you. I’m almost done.”

 

“No rush, I’ll just wait here. Your shampoo smells really good by the way, I’m a big fan." He pauses there before continuing. "I think it smells better on you than it does on me, though.”

 

You laugh softly before focusing on finishing your shower. When the conditioner is washed out, you flip off the water. The air of the bathroom feels freezing in comparison. “Steve, I forgot to grab a towel.”

 

“On it!” And less than 30 seconds later a towel is thrust behind the shower curtain, him staying dutifully on the other side. You wring out your hair as best you can then wrap the towel around you so you can step out.

 

Steve has the t-shirt on now, leaning back against your sink as he fidgets with his hands. His ankles are crossed and his eyes light up when they meet yours. He wordlessly motions for the pile of clothes he collected for you. “I’m going to run downstairs and get us both some water before bed. I figured you can get dressed while I’m gone. Is that okay?”

 

“Yeah, that works.” He claps his hands together and pushes off the counter. You watch him look you up and down, your eyebrows raising at how boldly he does it. His cheeks go pink like he didn’t even realize what was happening, then he turns on his heel and heads back for the stairs.

 

You slip on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt from the pile he brought you and take the rest of it back into your room, setting it on top of the dresser to put away later. You walk back to your bed and gingerly sit on the edge, only bothering your stomach a little bit, and wait.

 

Steve appears in your doorway again, looking like he’s relieved when he sees you. He’s carrying 2 glasses of water and a bottle of Tylenol. “Sorry it took me so long, I thought we could both use some pain killers and it took me a few minutes to find where you kept them.”

 

“It’s no problem,” you reply as he crosses the room and sits down next to you on your bed. “I can handle a few minutes alone.” You take the glasses from his hands and set them on the bedside table next to your lamp.

 

“I know you can, I’m sorry.” When you turn back, he’s looking at the floor. “It’s more a me thing. This is gonna sound really stupid but… For some reason, my brain is convinced that the second I turn my back, something is going to happen to you. Like if I'm not watching, you'll get hurt… Or you’ll disappear.” Your heart breaks as he laughs at himself. “Makes no sense.”

 

“Steve.” You place a hand on his shoulder, trying to get his attention back to you. His head tilts toward you, his shoulders still slumped forward. “It’s okay. That’s not stupid at all.” The hand not already on his shoulder reaches for one of his. “I’m here. And we’re safe now.”

 

“Yeah,” he replies, slightly breathless. “We’re safe.” You can hear the implied ‘ for now’ tacked on to the end of his sentence. You feel the same way, like none of this will ever truly be behind you. And you do acknowledge that maybe it will get easier with time, but right now that's really hard to believe.

 

“When you came into the bathroom, it looked like you’d seen a ghost.” It’s your turn to avoid eye contact as he turns the conversation back toward you. “What happened?”

 

“I… I’m not really sure. Sometimes when I’m alone and it’s quiet… It’s like flashbacks, I guess." You surprise yourself with how willingly you're explaining it to him. "There’s these specific moments that happened. And it’s like they’re happening all over again. I can hear and see them happening. And I can’t get it out of my head. They just repeat over and over.” You meet his eyes, his face full of pain for you.

 

“Do you wanna talk about them? The moments?”

 

“I don’t know. I feel like I should. But I don’t want to. Does that make sense?”

 

He nods, his lips pressing together tight. “Yeah, I know exactly how that feels.”

 

“Do you wanna lay down?” His eyes widen in surprise and you try to bite back the nervous laugh at his face. “I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep, but I want to lay down.”

 

His hand combs through his hair, still drying, and he nods. “Yeah, okay. We can do that.”

 

He gets up and walks around to the other side of the bed while you get to your feet, pulling the blanket down to get underneath it. It takes some maneuvering and only a few pained gasps until you’re laying on your side, facing him. He has an arm propped under his head, the other draped over his stomach as you maintain a safe distance.

 

“Can I ask? What happened to your stomach?”

 

“Billy’s boot happened,” you answer with a bitter laugh. He obviously doesn’t think it’s funny. “He was trying to get to El. I tased him… But it was like it didn’t even matter. He grabbed me by the neck and threw me against the wall. I tried to grab my taser again so he kicked me. Told me to ‘stay down’.”

 

“If he wasn’t already dead, I’d kill the son of a bitch myself.” Steve’s voice is hard, determined. But you doubt he would have it in him to kill another person.

 

“I don’t really think murder’s your style, Pretty Boy.”

 

This makes him chuckle, his hand leaving his stomach to lay on the sheet between you. You slide yours across so just the tips of your pinkies are touching each other. “Maybe not. I guess the what if doesn’t really matter. He’s dead.”

 

There’s such a finality to it. Yes, he had done terrible things even before he was the Mind Flayer’s puppet. But he was redeemable then. He had a chance to be a good person, if he tried hard enough. He had the opportunity to change.

 

Now he doesn’t. The Mind Flayer took away his right to choose. Until the very last moment when he took it back for himself. Then he died for it.

 

“Will you tell me what happened?” He looks confused. “What they did to you… before the drugs and before you were tied to the chair?”

 

“Rabbit, I don’t think…”

 

“You don’t have to.” You interrupt, trying to meet his eyes. “If it would make you feel worse, you really don’t have to. I just want you to know that if you want to talk about it, you can tell me.”

 

He pauses. Doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. You wait and try to get your breathing to stay even as he thinks it through. “They beat me,” he says so simply. So casually. “They kept asking me who I worked for, how I found them. Like it was a fucking action movie. I tried to tell them that I’m just some random dude who works at an ice cream shop. That I’m not a soldier or a spy.” He exhales and it comes out shaky. “No matter what I said, it didn’t matter. And that guy hits way harder than Billy or Jonathan.”

 

A single tear hangs on the inside corner of his right eye, probably others hiding behind the swelling of his left. You rest your hand fully over his now as he keeps his gaze on the sheet between you. “You must have been so scared.”

 

His voice cracks as he softly agrees, “Yeah.” He clears his throat, like he’s trying not to let it show. “I thought I was gonna die down there.” You grip his hand before he continues. “I think the worst part was not knowing if Dustin and Erica got out. Knowing that Robin got roped into it because of me. And if any of them had died it would’ve been my fault.”

 

“Steve,” your voice is soft but firm as you let go of his hand and bring yours up to brush the hair away from his face. “Nothing that happened is your fault. And if anything had happened to them, it wouldn’t have been your fault either.”

 

“I should’ve told Dustin to just forget that stupid recording, none of it would have happened.”

 

“Maybe,” you agree, “but if you had, we wouldn’t have known about the entrance to the bunker. And Dustin wouldn’t have been able to lead Murray through the ducts. So they wouldn’t have been able to destroy the Key to close the gate. We wouldn’t have been able to kill the Mind Flayer.” Your hand rests on his right cheek. “Not to mention that if it wasn’t for you, Dustin and Erica wouldn’t have made it out of that bunker at all. If you and Robin hadn’t given yourselves up to let them escape, who knows what might have happened. You didn’t do anything wrong. In fact, there is no doubt in my mind that you did anything less than your best in a completely bonkers situation.” He finally meets your eyes. It doesn’t look like he believes you, but at least he doesn’t try to fight you on it. Maybe someday he will be able to believe you. You can hope.

 

He chooses to move on from the conversation. “Everything you did… For the rest of the kids. Thank you. For being there for them.”

 

He speaks as a father, like he feels responsible for all of them. And he probably does. But he’s not the only one. “Of course. We’ve gotta look out for our kids, don’t we?”

 

A small smile comes to his face. “Our kids, huh?”

 

“Yeah,” your smile mirrors his. “Somebody has to keep those idiots out of the hospital. Or prison.” A small laugh leaves him as he turns to lay on his back, your hand falling from his jaw and landing on his chest. His eyes glance down at your hand and then his head turns toward you. His expression is rundown and weary, but warm. You consider it a win for now.

 

“Can I hold you?” Your brain turns off as blood rushes to your face. “I mean, sorry, that sounded kind of lame.” He looks back up to the ceiling with an embarrassed smile on his face. “Can we cuddle? If it won’t hurt you?”

 

You don’t answer, just slowly and carefully shift yourself across the bed toward him. He meets you halfway, staying on his back and putting an arm under you. You align yourself with his side, placing your head on his shoulder and resting your leg on his. The arm under your head drapes over your shoulders, his fingertips trailing small patterns on your arm. He turns his head to rest his mouth against your hairline.

 

“Is this okay?” He asks, his lips on your skin and his voice a warm whisper in the night.

 

“Yeah, Pretty Boy.” You exhale some of the tension in your muscles and let your eyes fall closed, listening to the beat of his heart in his chest. The telltale sign of life. “This is perfect.”

Notes:

hope you liked it!! let me know what you think

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 4 of The Rabbit and the Hair