Chapter Text
Thursdays have always been slow at Family Video, even more so today since Steve has a shift by himself. Working without Robin is way worse than with her; no constant rambling to fill the lonely silence, so the days seem to drag on and on like tasteless old chewing gum.
Steve is currently trapped in an ongoing loop of taking the tapes out of their stupid, plastic boxes, rewinding them, and piling up the finished tapes onto the small shelving cart. It is monotonous and boring, only accompanied by the static of the radio playing in the background, but it is half a frequency off, so the sound is a bit scrambled.
Add the constant noise of tape rewinding on top of it and it's the perfect condition to sprout a mild headache.
He's learnt mild pressure helps, so Steve reaches up and slowly massages his temples, relieved when the recorder clicks off, indicating it's done with the rewind.
Steve sighs, finally done with the atrocious task, and adds the last tape to the pile.
Mid-March it's warm enough, due to the mild spring weather, that Steve can wear short sleeves again. He enjoys the light air caressing his skin, thanks to the small single ventilator fan on the ceiling. He can already feel dread when he thinks about the hot summer in Hawkins, can just about feel the phantom sweat roll down his neck. It will be a common sensation once the air gets stuffy inside the video store. An uncomfortable shiver runs down his spine.
Steve shakes out his limbs, trying to rid himself of the feeling. Spring is not even in full force, he should enjoy that while he can.
Steve's eyes wander down to his bare arms. Bare, not only in the literal sense of no sleeves, but bare. Without ink, but most importantly, without his soulmark.
He really thought he and Robin would spark. Not at first of course, they were barley more than coworkers before the Upside Down shit went down the year prior, but being trapped together by evil Russians, followed by torture, and nearly dying a few times set their relationship in stone. They developed a strong codependency, can now practically hear the other's thoughts. Steve can't remember being this close to someone in his life before, not even Nancy. The love he has for Robin is all encompassing. It's so grand, it sometimes feels like it will burst his heart, so full of affection and trust.
It's easy to presume they're soulmates by how close they are and how they act around each other, constantly clinging to each other, gravitating into each other's orbits like it's the most natural thing. And it feels like that - easy and comfortable. Coming home. Only home is a person and not a place.
So, yeah, in retrospect Steve feels like they should have sparked. Just one single touch. His open palm on Robin's skin and they should have been branded by destiny, triggering his soulmark. But nothing happened. His arms stayed bare and so did Robin's.
Sometimes he still reaches out to her, grazing his hand along her arm. Refusing to let the small embers of hope die. Maybe someday they can still spark. Maybe he isn't doomed to a life without a soulmate. Maybe his love is more than just bullshit.
Only that’s not how it works. It’s a first time thing. I need to stop being an idiot…
Steve swallows hard after chastising himself mentally. That's why he hates working alone most, he can't keep his mind from wandering. Can't keep his heart from longing. To have this special connection. To find his someone.
He fights back the tears before they can fall.
It feels pathetic to wish for more when he already has a special someone. Steve is certain that the only reason Robin and him didn't spark is the lack of romantic capability. After she came out to him under the influence of Russian truth serum, he understood why they didn't spark. She can't be his romantic soulmate. Some days Steve wallows over the fact that platonic soulmates can't connect like that.
Robin and I don't need a mark to have that special bond!
It's a constant reminder to himself.
No matter how much he wishes for the spark, it's not even certain he ever will.
His parents never sparked for anyone and definitely not for each other. There is no love in their relationship, not like that. It's nothing but mutual benefit. His father has the perfect image of a happy family he can throw around while fucking his way through half his staff, and his mother has more money than she can spend, doing god knows what. Somehow along the way they simply forgot they had a child they were supposed to take care of.
Steve wouldn't be surprised if he didn't spark either. Might be karma for being an asshole for most of his life before he got a hit at the back of his head. Figuratively and practically.
It's not like one needs a soulmark to have a happy and fulfilling relationship. Joyce and Hopper never sparked as far as Steve knows, and they were perfect for each other, even though it only lasted a very short time.
Steve sniffs quietly, and gently cleans up the tears which are free falling now.
Thank god no one is coming in for a video on a random Thursday afternoon.
It would have been an embarrassing moment for Steve. But he can't help himself - losing Hopper like that still hurts. He might have been an unreliable drunk once upon a time, but he really came forward for El. Kept everyone safe, including all the twerps Steve has a soft spot for. He was a great father figure, especially when it came to love and support.
Steve misses the evenings when he'd drop off El & Will, and Hop would offer him a beer. They would sit on the porch, cool drinks in hand, talking about the day, the kids, sometimes the Upside Down; sometimes simply sitting in silence.
It was a fatherly comfort Steve had never experienced before and he grew attached.
And then Hopper was gone. Not even a year ago. Just like that. Gone.
Fucking Upside Down.
Steve breaks free from the spot where he was frozen in place and stalks to the employee bathroom.
Get a grip, man.
He grabs a paper towel and blows his nose. Without a second thought, Steve turns on the faucet for cold water and splashes it onto his face multiple times, trying to get rid of any evidence of his emotional breakdown as well as grounding himself. He towels off the damp skin and makes his way back out to the store, still as vacant as he left it.
This is going to be a long day...
Sometimes it's just like this. He'll be alone for a bit and his mind will conjure up all these bad memories and depressing thoughts.
Without constant company, Steve can't help to feel a little lost and empty. Lonely, like the first time his parents left and decided he no longer needed a nanny at the ripe age of 12.
"A man should be able to take care of himself", his father had said; like the man didn't have a maid and secretary for every single task he had to do, and who certainly never set foot in the kitchen ever.
Lonely. It's a state he better get used to. It's just a matter of time till Robin moves on to college. Nancy is already one foot out of town. Joyce and the Hopper-Byers family had already left Hawkins behind. He has the kids, for now. But once they can drive, they won't need him either and he'll be stranded, alone, working a shitty retail store and engaging in casual sex with Heidi or Brenda or whoever. Stocking shelves in an ugly work vest, waiting for the swindling tiny unlikely chance his soulmate will just randomly show up at the doorstep of a video rental.
Maybe I should take Robin to one of the gay bars up in Indy before she leaves? What are my odds of sparking with a cute guy there?
Customers come in every now and then but it's still a slow day overall. Steve makes sure to greet everyone with the same plastered-on fake smile, offering his assistance finding specific tapes or recommending movies when asked. It’s not great, but at least he doesn't have to wear an atrocious sailor outfit.
He dusts off a few of the shelves and makes sure to stock all the rewinded tapes. Steve grazes his fingers over a few cardboard backs, considering taking a movie home to watch in the evening but nothing really speaks to him.
He sweeps the floor, flips over the "open" sign and makes sure to turn off all the lights when his shift is finally over, driving home. Well, to the house he lives in at least. It hasn’t felt like home in years.
This is what his life has become. Former golden boy and student athlete, now working minimum wage jobs with no prospects in the future.
Steve feels hollow. Carved out.
Like he's just operating the body of a once popular student. Detached.
He just follows the same script every single day. Get up, get ready, go to work at a boring ass job, go home. Sometimes he drives the kids around, playing chaperone, but that's about it.
Steve can't help but feel plain. He has nothing going for him anymore. No popularity, no status. No friends his age (if you don't count platonic soulmates).
The Harrington money is no longer at his disposal, ever since his parents had cut him off, so he has no wealth going for him either.
And that's about everything Steve had in his favor.
After he parked his Bimmer, he drags himself inside and warms the leftover potato soup from the day before. Even though he can feel the warmth of the soup and usually enjoys the grounding taste of a self-made meal, it does little to soothe him.
Steve pilots the shell of his body to the shower, listens to the constant splatter of the drops on the walls. He breathes in the scent of his favorite shampoo, trying to trigger some sort of comfort, but he can barely appreciate it right now. It's just another reminder that he crafted his image so much about his looks and appearance, he neglected working on an actual personality.
The house is eerily quiet when he steps back into his bedroom. The empty rooms are a perfect reflection of Steve's hollowness. The whole house is, actually. Looking all posh and fancy on the outside, with the pretty garden and the big pool and all the expensive furniture. Take a closer look and it's all just for show. Inside it's lifeless and still and cold.
A shiver runs down Steve's spine and he hurries over to the dresser to pick up a sweatshirt and some boxers.
He gets dressed and slips under the covers of his bed, not in the mood for TV or music.
He looks over to the window. The sun is slowly settling in the distance, coloring the sky in wonderful shades of oranges and pinks.
What would I give to be like that? To bring that warmth into the world?
The warmth and coziness of the bed slowly lulls Steve into a faint slumber. Behind closed lids, his eyes dart around. Steve takes in a shuddering breath, his hands clench into the blanket as he tosses his head. Sweat covers his neck and forehead. He lets out a pitiful whimper and a stray tear makes his way down his cheeks, effectively being soaked up by the soft pillow casing.
Only moments later Steve sits up with a startled movement, breaking away from his dream. He can faintly smell punch in the air, can feel the dampness of the shirt under his fingers, soaked with the alcoholic beverage. "We're not even soulmates, Steve. What we have, it's bullshit!" Nancy's drunk slurred voice is echoing inside his head.
It's been a while since I dreamt about that night...
Maybe spurred on by all the events of the day, this particular memory decided to make an appearance again.
Nancy and him never really got around to talk about it. Their breakup. Or the fight that led up to the end of their relationship. It shouldn't hurt as much anymore, it's been years. But even after all this time, it's still one of Steve's most painful memories. A shard that's still lodged inside his heart, not piercing in further, not threatening his life, but a constant reminder of his worst fear - that he's unlovable.
His parents never loved him, not in the way he needed. They left him behind as soon as they could.
Nancy didn't return his feelings and moved on.
Robin will move on soon enough. She's already making friends in band, and don't get Steve wrong, he loves that for her. She deserves good things, especially after all they've been through, but he can't shake the constant nagging in the back of his head telling him Robin will replace him. Will she pull away when she sparks? There is limited room for people in your life. That's the main reason why you only get branded for romantic soulmates. Destiny is telling you to get your priorities straight.
So whenever it'll finally happen to Robin, Steve will be left behind.
But he'll be left behind either way. In the fall, Robin will move to a big city with a big university and will forget all about the school bully she befriended over shared trauma.
Steve will stay back in Hawkins, take care of the twerps for a bit till they graduate too…
And then what?
With a groan Steve flops back onto the bed, rubbing his hands over his face. He stares at the ceiling. It's still dark outside.
I really need to get out of my head. A distraction would be nice.
Not even two days later, Dustin and Max storm the video store during Steve's shift in a frantic attempt to locate Eddie. The Upside Down is back.
Not really the distraction Steve was hoping for.