Chapter Text
____Hopper____
In May of ‘70, the Harrington boy goes missing.
The story he’s told is that James Harrington was at work while Stephanie was at home with their son, and she let him go out in the backyard to play. She says that she was doing household chores, checking on the four-year old boy every once in a while because Stephen is a good kid, he doesn’t need constant supervision. Except, when she went out to bring him inside for the night, he wasn’t there.
Stephanie claims that she looked high and low for Stephen before calling the cops, but upon arriving, Jim realizes very quickly that she doesn’t seem to have looked at all.
He’s asking her questions, where the last place she saw him was, where she’s looked, and her answers can’t stay straight. First, she says that the last place she saw him was by the swingset in the corner of the yard, but then she says it might have been by the pool. She can’t recall all the places that she’s looked, and it makes Jim more suspicious of her every passing moment.
When James comes home from work early, he doesn’t seem to be any more help than his wife is. Of course, he’s been at work, but suddenly, he’s refusing to let Stephanie answer any questions. He’s talking over her, he’s telling Jim and the other officers that they don’t need to question them, they just need to get out there and start looking for Stephen.
Despite the weird feeling that The Harrington’s have left in his mouth, Jim agrees. They need to start looking for Stephen. The first 48 hours in a missing child’s case are the most important, that’s been drilled into Jim’s head since he was freshly eighteen and joining the force. Especially with this boy only being four, having only turned it two weeks ago, the likelihood that he would be able to survive on his own are slim to none.
For the next two days, Jim barely sleeps. He barely eats. He spends every waking moment he has combing through the woods that surround The Harrington home. When he does sleep, it’s in his cruiser on the side of the road next to where he wants to look next. A search party is formed of concerned citizens once the news broke about Stephen being missing, but Jim doesn’t join them specifically. They’re looking in too localized of an area, most of them have no idea how to hunt down a missing kid, and Jim doesn’t want to be slowed down.
Stephen’s case takes over Jim’s life for a while. Even after those first two days, he’s constantly trying to find a lead on it. If anyone else saw Stephen that day, if there’s any bigger holes in The Harrington story than before, but he comes up empty handed every time.
Three months after Stephen goes missing, Jim’s wife Diane finds out that she’s pregnant. He’s over the moon about it. They had been talking about having a kid, and while they didn’t expect it to happen so fast, this was all Jim had ever wanted.
He got lucky in a lot of ways, with his own parents. They treated him well, let him get away with a lot, and taught him a lot about being a man. His old man is the reason that Jim joined the police force straight out of high school, instilling in him a sense of justice, an urge to protect people.
He wanted to teach his daughter all of that.
Sarah comes into the world on April 19th, 1971, and she’s the love of Jim’s life. He didn’t know that he could love another person quite as much as he loves Sarah.
And that love he feels for his daughter is why he gets so fucking angry when The Harrington move out of Hawkins right before the one year anniversary of Stephen’s disappearance.
James and Stephanie Harrington gave up on their son one month into his disappearance. They held a funeral for him, without a body, because no one could ever find it. Jim looked hard, he looked for hours, but he came up empty handed.
At that time, Jim could understand wanting to have a funeral. Maybe it was so that people would stop asking them about Stephen, end that endless torture of being reminded of their son disappearing. But, Jim had attended the funeral. He was there. He didn’t see either one of them shed a fucking tear over their son.
Jim did. He cried from where he had his cruiser parked for a little boy that he didn’t know, that he would never meet, who disappeared without a trace.
But, after the funeral, he thought that maybe James and Stephanie would keep looking, and would stay in Hawkins in case they did find Stephen.
When that ‘For Sale’ sign went up in the yard, Jim saw red. Maybe it was a selfish anger, he didn’t know what kind of grief they were experiencing, if being in the house that they raised their son in for such a brief period of time was too hard for them. But, when he sees Stephanie and James around town, they seem… happier than they were when they had their son. Lighter. Like they’re not bothered by it.
They don’t even stop by the station to drop off their new number in case there is progress in Stephen’s case. One day they’re there, the next they’re not.
For the next couple of years, Jim follows every lead that comes in on Stephen. Nothing leads anywhere, but in a world where everyone else has given up on Stephen Harrington, Jim won’t.
That is until Sarah gets sick.
It starts small, she doesn’t feel like playing as often, she’s sleepier than usual. Some days she’s full of energy, and some days she doesn't get out of bed.
When she starts having trouble breathing, they rush her to the hospital, and that’s the day that Jim’s world ends.
He finds out this beautiful little girl, the light of his life, the best thing that has ever happened to him, has cancer.
An incurable, aggressive cancer.
That doesn’t mean that they don’t try. Sarah goes through chemo with her parents by her side. Jim holds her hand, tells her over and over again how much he loves her, and he sleeps on the uncomfortable hospital bed with her almost every night so that she isn’t alone.
It’s hard, watching his child waste away. She doesn’t smile as much anymore, her hair is falling out, her skin is pale and dull, but she’s still just as beautiful to Jim as the day that was born. His sunshine. His light. His girl.
The day that Sarah leaves them, Jim holds his wife. He keeps her close, and he watches from the end of the hospital bed as doctors try to bring his daughter back to life. He prays and prays that it’ll work. That this isn’t the end.
But, it is.
Sarah dies in August of ‘78, only seven years after she came into this world.
Jim loses himself after that.
Completely and utterly loses himself.
His grief couldn’t be measured. Every time he looks, there’s something reminding him of his girl. It’s a painting she did, a toy that never got picked up, the blue hair-tie around his wrist. She’s everywhere, but she’s also nowhere.
Him and Diane fall apart soon after Sarah dies. He doesn’t blame her, can’t, not really. Grief is overtaking, they don’t have time for each other as they process, and he doesn’t know how they would ever go back to normal after that loss.
They divorce only two months after. Diane moves away, and Jim stays in Hawkins.
He sells their trailer, though. He can’t stand to be there for one more day without Sarah.
It makes him understand James and Stephanie Harrington leaving a little bit more. It’s haunting, waiting for the pitter-patter of little feet on the ground, for a child’s laughter, only for there to be none.
Before his grandfather died, he owned a small cabin in the woods that he left to Jim. That’s where he ends up in the middle of trying to find a new place to live, fixing up that Cabin in the middle of the woods. It gives him something to do, something to keep his mind busy, off of Sarah.
He drinks, he repairs, he goes back to work, and tries to make life okay again.
He’s promoted to police chief right after the new year, and it’s while he’s moving all of his shit to his new office that he sees Stephen Harrington’s case file that’s been laying on his desk for almost nine years.
Jim sighs as he sits down at his desk, propping his feet up on it, a cup of coffee in one hand, and the file in the other. He runs a careful finger along the edge of the manila folder before he flips it open, to be met with a photo of four year old Stephen Harrington staring back at him.
He was a small kid for his age, Jim thinks. Though, he was barely four when he went missing. It’s a black and white photo, but he knows that the neatly cut hair on his head is a sandy shade of brown, that those eyes were hazel, and his skin was naturally tan. He’d seen Stephen in person a few times, had seen a handful of photos of him when they were making the missing photos. There’s a couple of moles on the kid's face, along his neck, they were the main identifying features that they were told to look for.
Nine years.
Nine fucking years, and this case is still as cold as the day he got the phone call.
He wonders every day what happened to that boy. How he could just disappear into thin air, if his parents had anything to do with it, if they hid evidence from him. Nothing about this case made any fucking sense. Kids don’t just disappear into thin air. They don’t. But, here’s the Harrington case, with no kid, no body, and no fucking answers.
Maybe it’s all of the anger that’s been building up inside Jim since ‘70 when Stephen went missing, or maybe it’s the grief that won’t seem to leave him since ‘78, or it’s a fucked up combination of both, but Jim feels a single tear roll down his face as he looks at this sweet fucking face. A kid who didn’t fucking deserve this fate. A kid who should be turning fucking thirteen this year.
He had promised that he would never give up on him, and he had meant to keep that promise, but life gets in the way sometimes. It changes plan, it derails your entire fucking course you’ve set, and there’s nothing you can do to change that.
Jim stares at the photo a little longer, runs his thumb over it, remembering his promise. Nine years is a long time, he knows that Stephen isn’t alive anymore, but if he can put his body to rest, actual rest, not just a pretend funeral, then he would do that.
_____________
Snow is falling on the ground despite it being mid-march, and Jim isn’t happy about it. He still hasn’t found a trailer that he likes, which means he’s still living in that little cabin in the middle of the woods, which is almost impossible to get to when it’s snowing like it is right now.
He’s cussing it up one wall and down the other as he tries to push his jeep through the gross terrain. He thought he’d salted and shoveled this path enough, but obviously he didn’t.
Jim is only about half way up his drive way when he hits a patch of snow that causes his tires to spin. His jeep isn’t moving, just spinning tires in the fucking snow, and he cusses as he throws it in park.
“Stupid motherfuckin’ snow.” Jim grumbles as he throws the trunk open, grabbing the snow shovel he’s been keeping in there out. He starts trying to dig the tire out, is making decent progress, when he hears something crack behind him. A branch, he thinks, and he whirls around with the shovel in the air. No one is ever out here, there’s few wildlife, but not none. He’s expecting a deer, a squirrel, but that’s not what he comes face to face with.
No, standing maybe twenty feet from him is a kid.
A boy, he thinks.
He’s wearing a hospital gown, his head is shaved, his eyes are wide and panicked, and he’s half crouched down like he’s trying to hide behind… Nothing. Like he thinks Jim can’t see him.
One of the first things he notices is how… small this boy is. He’s skinny. By his height, Jim thinks he has to be at least eleven years old, but he’s so skinny that it’s hard to really tell.
The boy's eyes are trained on the shovel that Jim is still holding in the air, like he’s scared of it. He would be too, if he was this kid.
Slowly, Jim lowers the shovel down, crouching down to gently put it on the ground instead of dropping it. He thinks the noise would scare him off.
Every movement that he makes is carefully monitored. He can feel the kids' eyes on him, tracking everything he’s doing. He holds his hands out, showing him that he doesn’t have anything in his hand, and takes a small step forward.
Startled, the boy takes a step back, and Jim shakes his head, turning his palms down towards the ground.
“Hey, don’t run,” Jim says, and the boy stares him down. He can tell, even from this stance, that his breathing is ragged and uneven, like he’s ran a long distance or he’s just scared. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”
He takes another timid step forward, but it’s the same thing. The boy takes another step back, but this time, he falls on the ground. He doesn’t have shoes on. His feet are bright red from the cold, and Jim curses. If he doesn’t get him warm soon, he’s risking frostbite.
“My name is Jim. Jim Hopper. I’m a policeman, and I can help you. You just gotta let me get close to you, okay?”
Frantically, the boy shakes his head. His breathing is worse, Jim thinks he might be on the verge of hyperventilating. He needs to reevaluate his approach.
“Okay, okay. I’ll stay right here,” He drops his hands to his side, crouching back down so they’re closer to being at eye level, “Can you tell me your name?”
No response. Just large eyes staring at him.
“I told you mine, and I’d like to know yours. I know you gotta be cold. You’re not wearing a lot, and I’m freezing out here. I can get you warm, get you something to eat, and then we can talk.”
At the mention of food, the boy perks up. He sits up a little, tapping his feet on the snow, and Jim feels like a fisherman who just got his first bite.
“You hungry? I’ve got food in my cabin. It’s about five minutes down the trail, and I can take you there. I just got a new heater. We can go back there and get warm, I’ll make you something to eat. How does that sound?”
Relief floods over him as the boy nods, but it’s short lived when he doesn’t move towards him.
“To do that, we’ve gotta go there. If we get in my car-“
The boy shakes his head, eyes going wide again, He looks like he’s about to bolt again.
“No.” Is the first word that the boy says to him, and Jim is surprised at how unsure his voice seems to be. Like he isn’t used to using it.
“No?”
“No car.”
“Okay, no car. It’s a bit of a walk, though. And you don’t seem to have shoes on.”
“No car.”
“I heard ya. No car. But, can you come over here? I’d feel better if we walked there together. I’m not gonna hurt you.”
It takes a few more minutes of gently coaxing to get the boy to take steps towards him, but then the distance between them is barely two feet, and Jim smiles at him. It’s fake, because up close, the kid looks even worse.
The hospital gown he’s wearing is barely staying on, falling off of too small shoulders. He has bruises on his wrists, sickenly reminding Jim of a full grown man’s hand wrapped around this kids too little arms. He has bags under his eyes, worse than he’s ever seen on a kid, and there’s so much fear in those hazel eyes.
Hazel eyes.
Jim’s own eyes scan across the boys face, to the twin moles on his left cheek, the one on the right by his mouth. His hair is too short to tell what color it is, but it’s not dark. It’s not blonde, it’s somewhere in the middle.
He doesn’t want to get his hopes up, that somehow after nine years he stumbled upon the Harrington boy in his own fucking yard, but those were the key points he was looking for all this time. The exact descriptors used.
This kid looks too small to be Stephen, though. By now, Steve would be almost thirteen, and this kid barely looks eleven. He wants to ask, almost does, but then he sees the way the boy is looking at him and doesn’t.
Without saying a word, Jim slides his own coat off of his shoulder and holds it between them. The boy studies it for a long time, like he isn’t quite sure what’s happening, and Jim smiles.
“I’m gonna put this on you, okay?”
He goes slow, closing the gap between them, and he’s surprised when the boy lets him drape it along his shoulders. The next thing that he slides off is his boots, carefully unlacing them until he’s able to step out of them. His socks hit the cold ground, instantly getting wet, but he doesn’t let his discomfort show.
“Can you slide your feet into these? They’re gonna be too big, but they’ll stop your feet from getting any colder.”
The boy does it. He steps carefully into each of the shoes, which are way too big on him, but Jim tightens the laces until they won’t fall off with every step. He keeps expecting this kid to run away, but he doesn’t. He just stands there and lets Jim do what he’s doing, even though he’s scared, even though he’s shaking.
Once the jacket is secured in the front, and the boots are on his feet, Jim gets in his car to get anything he needs to take back to the cabin. His bag, his keys, a few more random things shoved into his pocket. He keeps looking over his shoulder, just to make sure the kid is still there, and he is. He’s just… watching.
“Okay, let’s go get you warmed up, kid.”
“Food?”
“And some food. Come on.”
Together, they walk down the rest of the driveway. It was a five minute drive, but it’s more of a ten to fifteen minute walk. By the time they get to the front door of the cabin, Hopper’s feet are throbbing with how cold and wet they are. He doesn’t know how this kid has been walking around this long with his feet in this shit.
When they get inside, Jim steps to the side when the boy just stops and stares at everything inside like he’s… never seen any of it before. He’s looking at the couch in the center, the old beat up TV in the corner, the lamp beside the arm chair Jim sits in every day. It’s like Hopper just introduced this kid to a whole new world.
“You gonna tell me your name? Be a lot easier if you did.”
The boy keeps looking around, he’s tapping his feet against the ground, and he pulls the jacket tighter around him.
Jim waits.
And waits.
And waits for him respond. He’s going to give him the time he needs.
The boy hums quietly, before nodding.
“Stephen.”
___________
Jim realizes quickly that he doesn’t have anything that will fit Stephen properly. Everything that he has is for adult men, or the few pieces of Sarah’s that he couldn’t handle to get rid of. So, for now, Stephen is sitting on the floor in a shirt that looks like it’s six times too big on him, and a pair of sweatpants that hang well past his feet. He’s got a plate with a pile of spaghetti on it, his second plate in the last ten minutes, but Jim isn’t going to tell this kid he can’t eat as much as he wants. By the looks of him, he hasn’t eaten enough in a long time.
He still can’t believe that Stephen Harrington is sitting in front of him after nine years of being missing.
Logically, he knows that he needs to contact James and Stephanie Harrington, let them know that Stephen is alive after all of this time, and try to get this kid back into a sense of normality. There’s no telling what he’s been through since he went missing, but by the looks of him, it was a lot.
There’s nothing that he wants more than to get to the bottom of this. To figure out who did this to Stephen, and make them fucking pay.
He must get lost in his own thoughts, because when he glances back at Stephen, he’s staring at him already with his plate cleared, eyes trained on Jim.
“More?”
“You want more?”
“Yes, please.”
“Okay. I’ll get you some more.”
Jim doesn’t know how this kid is eating so much, the big pot he made is almost empty, but he scoops out what is left and takes it back to him. Stephen looks like he’s in awe that he’s being given his third plate, and he even gives Jim a timid smile when it’s in his hands.
The couch is right behind where Stephen is sitting on the floor, but the kid refused to sit on it at first, like he’s scared of it. Jim doesn’t push, lets him make himself comfortable, and scarf down his food.
“Kid, I-… Where have you been all this time?”
With a mouth full of food, spaghetti noodles sticking out of his closed lips, Stephen looks up at him. They hold that eye contact, but the kid doesn’t say anything. It’s like he doesn’t know how.
“No one is mad at you, I just wanna know where you’ve been.”
“Gone.”
“Yeah, I figured that much. I’ve been looking for you, you know?”
“Looking for me?”
“Mhm. So, I’d like to know where you’ve been.”
“… Bad place.”
“Bad place? Where is that?”
Stephen shrugs, scooting a little further away from Jim, and Hopper sighs. He shouldn’t push him. He should let him rest, give him the night here to calm down and rest. He nods.
“Okay. We don’t have to talk about it. Finish your food, and we’ll get you set up for bed.”
____________
The next few days are… weird.
That’s the only way he can describe them.
Weird.
Stephen doesn’t seem to like to talk, or maybe he just doesn’t know how to properly. Like it’s like his vocabulary is stuck at that of a four or five, maybe a six year old, which meant he would have had to be taught by someone. Still, Stephen has a weird speech pattern. It’s like he only knows basic words, enough to get his point across, but not more than that.
Another thing is that Stephen is refusing to leave the cabin. He won’t let Hopper take him outside, refuses to answer any questions about where he’s been, and he definitely doesn’t want Jim to tell the rest of the force who he’s found.
He just keeps saying ‘bad men.’
Over, and over, and over again.
Jim shouldn’t be letting an almost thirteen year old make all of these decisions, but he needs to make sure Stephen trusts him. That he knows he won’t hurt him, that he won’t take him back to the ‘bad men’, that he’s going to take care of him as best he can. Even if it’s just for the short time that they’re together.
He does realize quickly that the clothing situation isn’t going to last for long. Stephen is tripping around the house, the shirts are falling off of his shoulder, and he doesn’t have a winter coat for him if he could get him outside.
There’s only one person in town that he thinks maybe he can trust with this. Someone he hasn’t talked to face to face in a long time, but he knows she’s always had a heart of gold. He also happens to know that she has a son around Stephen’s age, so maybe it’s a long shot, but he has to try.
Waiting until Stephen falls asleep is harder than Jim wants it to be, mostly because the kid has such a hard time sleeping. He’s jumpy. Every noise startles him awake until he’s really out of it, so Jim waits, and waits, and waits. He’s nervous that it’ll be too late when he finally grabs the phone book and dials her number.
It takes three rings for her to answer.
“Hello?”
“Is this Joyce?”
“Yes? Who is this? Do you have any idea what time it is-“
“It’s Chief Jim Hopper. We went to school together.”
“Oh! Oh, hi! It’s been so long, Hop. How are things?”
Jim hesitates. Things are… as normal as they can be. Grief comes and goes, he’s harboring a missing kid at his house because he hasn’t been allowed to tell anyone else.
“Things are… Good. I suppose.”
“Well, that doesn’t sound like a very convincing answer.”
He laughs, holds the phone a little closer, “Yeah, I didn’t figure it did. Anyways, sorry to call so late. I just had a quick question for you.”
“Ask away.”
“Does Jonathan have any clothes that don’t fit him that you’d be willing to part with?”
“… I mean, probably? Why are you asking?”
Chewing on his bottom lip, Jim sighs, “I’ve got a… Case I’m working on. Young boy who doesn’t have anything. Just trying to source some stuff for him while I can.”
“Oh! Oh, that’s just terrible. I’ll see what I can find tonight, I could meet you at Benny’s around 8:30 tomorrow morning with some stuff?”
“That would be fantastic. Thank you, Joyce.”
“Of course! Thank you for helping this kid. We have plenty of stuff laying around here that doesn’t fit Jonathan anymore, and I don’t think Will is ever going to wear it. I’ll get as much stuff together as I can. Does he need anything else? Toys? Bed sheets?”
“Honestly? I’ll take whatever you can give me. He doesn’t have anything.”
“Gotcha. I’ll see you in the morning with as much stuff as I can pack.”
“Thank you. Have a good night, Joyce.”
“You too, Hop.”
Once the phone is back on the receiver, Jim pushes himself to his feet and walks over to the main bedroom of the house, where he’s been letting Stephen sleep the last couple of days. He seems more comfortable in there, even if the bed is way too big for his little frame. He’s been keeping the door cracked, mostly because when he tried to shut it all the way, Stephen freaked out. He screamed at the top of his lungs, started crying, and full off begging Hopper not to lock him in. That he could be good.
It had broken Jim’s heart into a million tiny pieces. So, the door stayed open when Stephen was asleep in there.
He peaks into the room, finding the boy curled up in the middle of the bed, the blanket pulled all the way up around him, and his face is completely buried between two pillows. He’s snoring quietly, and Hopper can’t help the smile that pulls on his lips.
Sarah had snored.
Like a freight train, that girl snored.
He’d almost forgotten what a kid’s snore sounded like until now.
It breaks his heart, again, just a little bit.
Because his daughter hasn’t even been gone for a full year, and here he is, taking care of someone else’s. He doesn’t want Sarah to think he forgot about her, because god knows, he never could. But, he also knows that in this world, Stephen has nobody. At least, not right now. Maybe when he calls James and Stephanie, they’ll want their son back, but for now? Jim is all Stephen has.
_________
He’s late getting to Benny’s, by about thirty minutes. It wasn’t his fault, it really wasn’t. Stephen had freaked the hell out when Jim said he would be going into town, and that he had to stay here, inside, until Jim got back.
Turns out, Stephen really doesn’t like being left alone.
He had cried, begged Hopper not to leave, and it wasn’t until he told Stephen that he would be back before the clock hit 10:30. He learned then that he didn’t know how to read a clock, so Jim taught him as fast as he could.
“When the little hand is on 10, and the big hand 6, that’s when I will be back.”
“10 and 6.” Stephen says through his tears, and Jim nods.
“10 and 6. I will be back by 10:30.”
“10… 30.”
“Exactly.”
“… Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Okay.”
Before he left, Jim spent extra time getting Stephen comfortable on the couch, wrapping him in some blankets, getting him some peanuts to snack on, water on the table, and he ruffles the top of his head as he goes to walk away.
“10 and 6?”
“Little hand on 10, big hand on 6.”
“Okay.”
When he pulls up to the diner at 9, he isn’t expecting Joyce to still be there. But, through the window, he sees her sitting and sipping on a cup of coffee. He lets out a sigh, heading inside as fast as he can.
“Joyce, I’m so sorry I’m late-“
“It’s okay!” She says, standing with a smile, opening her arms for a hug. Jim pulls her into a one armed hug, she pats his back a few times, and then he slides into the booth across from her.
“I swear, I was up in time to get here, but the boy…”
“He didn’t want you to leave?”
“Not at all. Freaked out a little bit.”
“Are you fostering him?”
“I guess you could say that.”
Joyce smiles, reaching across the table to put her hands on top of his. He startles a little bit, but lets it happen. It felseels nice, being touched by another person after so long of not.
“That’s a very kind thing you’re doing, Hop.”
“… Thank you.”
“I have three trash bags full of stuff in the car. Two are clothes, one has some toys and a bed set in it. I also went and bought some stuff to bathe him with, because Will has sensitive skin and some of the adult stuff breaks him out in hives.”
“I didn’t-… Even think of that.”
“That’s okay! That’s what I’m here for.”
They talk for a little while longer, Jim checking his watch every couple of seconds until it’s almost 9:50, and he sighs.
“I gotta get back soon, promised the kid I’d be back by 10:30.”
“Lets go get the stuff moved, then!”
Together, they get everything transferred into Hop’s trunk, and Joyce smiles at him in a way that he isn’t used to. Most people, they look at him, smile, but it’s full of sympathy. He’s used to it. He gets it. His entire life fell apart, his daughter died, his wife left him. Sympathy is all he’s known since last summer.
But, the smile on Joyce’s face isn’t any of that. It’s just… a smile. Warm, kind, inviting.
“Oh, by the way,” He says, after a moment has passed, “Don’t say anything about the boy to anyone. It’s uh, on the down low right now.”
“My lips are sealed.”
_____________
A lot of the clothes fit Stephen perfectly. Some don’t. Some are too small, a handful are too big, but most are just fine on him.
_____________
Two weeks after getting the clothes, the snow has melted, and Jim is finally able to convince him to take a step outside. His hair is growing, just a little bit, and in these last couple of weeks, some color has come back to his skin. He doesn’t look as sickly.
“What do you think about going outside today?”
“Outside?”
“Yeah, out of the house. Just in the yard.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“No.”
“No one is out there. It’ll just be us. Do you want to watch from the window while I go out to check?”
Stephen stares at him for a while, head cocked to the side, thinking about it. Jim doesn’t push, let’s him think.
He lets out a sigh when Stephen nods his head. He goes outside, making exaggerated movements when he looks back and sees little eyes staring out the window, just so Stephen knows the coast is clear. When he comes back in, Stephen is right at the door, staring up at him.
“Safe?”
“Safe. You wanna come see?”
With a nod, they step outside. Stephen looks around with cautious eyes, but then the breeze blows, the sun peaks through the trees just right, and he freezes.
Then, he tilts his head up, takes a deep breath, and feels the sun on his face.
Jim could have cried. He really could have. The tension that this child has been holding for weeks seems to wash right off of his shoulders, and it looks like this is the first time he’s seen the sun in… years.
“Nice.” Stephen says, and Jim lets out a watery laugh.
“Yeah? Feels good?”
“Mhm. Nice.”
____________
Sarah’s first birthday without being here comes and goes. Jim doesn’t talk much that day, instead just sits in the spare room of his house and cries, drinking the cheapest beer that he could find at the gas station.
Stephen doesn’t bother him for most of the day. He can hear him shuffling around in the other room, but he doesn’t come to bother Jim until late that evening. It’s a timid hand tapping on the door three times, and Jim wipes his eyes, sniffling.
“Yeah?”
“In?”
“Yeah, you can come in.”
Carefully, Stephen opens the door, and in his arms is a plate. It has crackers and peanuts on it, and Stephen is looking at him like he’s scared that Jim might be angry. Jim feels a wave of shame wash over him, because in his grief, he never made Stephen food today. The poor kid just had to fend for himself while Jim wallowed.
“Shit, sorry, kid. I can make you real food-“
The plate in Stephen’s arms is pushed out towards Jim abrasively, his arms are shaking, and he keeps looking straight at him with those nervous eyes.
“Eat.”
“I know, I just said I would make-“
“No. Eat.” Stephen says again, pushing the plate towards Jim, and it clicks in that moment. Stephen didn’t put the crackers and peanuts on a plate for himself, but for Jim. He doesn’t know how to cook, and these are his favorite snacks at the moment, so he made Jim a plate of them to make sure he was eating.
It makes tears well up in his eyes again, goddamnit.
“… This is for me?”
“Mhm.”
“Thank you, Stephen.” Jim takes the plate, sitting it down on the bedside table, and Stephen sits down on the bed beside him. Timidly, he leans towards Jim’s side, like he’s going to hug him. It’s the first time that Stephen has initiated any kind of touch, and Jim wraps his arm around his shoulder and pulls him slowly into his side, giving him all the time he’d need to pull away. He doesn’t. He just relaxes into him.
“Sad?” Stephen asks, and Jim nods, running his hand up and down the side of his arm.
“Yeah, kid. I’m sad. It’s okay, though. Thank you for the dinner. That was very kind of you.”
Stephen nods, and for a while? They just sit like that. Jim with this boy tucked under his arm, reaching over occasionally to take a cracker or peanut off the table, until Stephen is falling asleep against him.
He didn’t know how badly he needed to not be alone today, and he’s incredibly grateful for him, even if it doesn’t fill the hole in his heart that Sarah left behind.
_____________
He starts home schooling Stephen two months into him living at the cabin. He realizes pretty fast that he doesn’t know much, like he’s been kept in a cage, and Jim wants to fix that. They start with basic stuff, stuff for kindergarteners, but Stephen is… Excited to learn. He’s waiting by the door every day that Jim gets off work, ready to do homework.
“What learn today?”
“What are we gonna learn today?” Jim says, pushing suspenders off of his shoulders, “It’s Tuesday. What do we learn on Tuesdays?”
“Maths.”
“Exactly. Math today, what tomorrow?”
“Science Wednesday.”
“Good job, Stephen.”
At the praise, Stephen smiles. He lets Jim get changed, but then they’re settling down at the little kitchen table with the addition and subtraction books in front of them, and they spend the next couple of hours working on problems together. Stephen doesn’t get it right every time, he’s still learning, but Jim is proud of him no matter what.
___________
He calls Stephen ‘Steve’ for the first time on a random Saturday night, and he doesn’t think he could ever go back to calling him his full name with the way that Steve lights up.
He remembers how much Sarah liked being called “Sar”, how much the nickname had made her giggle for the first time, and it’s almost the same reaction that Steve has to the new name.
It’s the first real smile that he’s seen from the boy since he found him three months ago. From ear to ear, showing all of his teeth.
“You like that? Steve?”
“Mhm. Steve.” He says, pointing at himself, and Jim nods.
“Alright. Steve it is.”
__________
The four month mark is when Jim starts to notice that something is… Different about Steve.
He’s noticed it a few times before but chalked it up to his brain playing tricks on him, but he sees it happen at dinner one night. Steve is sitting across from him, they’re both eating, and Steve knocks his fork onto the ground.
Jim leans down at first to pick it up, but then it’s levitating off of the ground and back up towards Steve. He freezes, watching the fork raise up without a hand touching it, and he follows it all the way back up to the table. When he looks at Steve, there’s a small drop of blood dripping from his nose, but he doesn’t seem to be bothered by it. The fork floats up, up, up, until it’s back on the table.
“How did you do that?”
Steve startles, his whole body jumping, and then he looks at Jim with wide, horrified eyes. Like he did something he wasn’t supposed to do, or he’s in trouble, or he’s scared. When tears well up in his eyes, Jim is even more confused.
“Don’t send back.” Steve says quietly, and Jim raises an eyebrow at him.
“I’m not sending you anywhere, Steve. I just- How the hell did you do that? Do you have a string attached to that or something?”
“No.”
“Then what’s the trick?”
He watches as Steve squirms a little bit in his seat, before he looks at the fork on the table again, and this time, it moves towards Steve. Just an inch or two. But, it’s Jim’s turn to startle, because Steve didn’t move his body an inch. He just looked at that fucking fork, and moved it without touching it.
“How the hell… What- I-…”
“Mind.”
“Mind?”
Steve nods, using the back of his hand to wipe away the drop of blood. Hopper is left with so many questions, ones that he knows Steve can’t or won’t be able to answer. What happened to him when he was lost, and how the hell did it make him be able to move things with his fucking mind?
He must be quiet for too long, staring too intensely, because Steve’s voice comes out strained and nervous when he asks, “… Mad?”
“Mad? Why would I be mad at you?”
“Not good.”
“Not good? What isn’t good? You?”
“Control. Not good.”
“You mean, with your… Mind thing?”
Steve nods, “Papa said not good. Bad control. Be better.”
“Papa? Who’s Papa?”
He doesn’t seem to know how to answer that, because he just picks his fork up and takes another bite. Jim sighs, running his hand up and down his face. Great. So, not only is he harboring a missing kid in his house, said missing kid has fucking superpowers.
Jim needs to find who the fuck this ‘Papa’ guy is, and just how he managed to give this kid the ability to move things with his mind.
“Mad?” Steve repeats, and Jim shakes his head.
“No, Steve. I’m not… Mad. Just confused as to how you’re doing that. We’re just gonna… Have to set some ground rules when it comes to that.”
“Rules.”
“Yeah, rules. Like… You can do that in the house, in the yard, but you cannot do that in front of anyone who isn’t me. Okay?”
“Only you.”
“Only me.”
“Okay.”
___________
On the one year anniversary of Sarah’s death, Jim barely gets out of bed. He can’t. He thought he’d go visit her grave, but he just can’t.
He knows he needs to take care of Steve, but that boy always seems to know when Jim just can’t. He doesn’t ask for anything, takes care of himself.
Jim must fall asleep for a while, because when he wakes back up, Steve is laying in the bed next to him. His face is smushed against the pillows, breathing even, snoring. Despite the day, he finds himself smiling, closing his eyes, and falling back asleep.
___________
Six months into having Steve is when Jim finally calls The Harrington’s to let them know that he has him.
It’s the last thing he wants to do. It really is.
He tried not to get attached to the boy, tell himself that he was just taking care of him long enough to get him healthy enough to return to his parents.
But, Steve made it so hard not to be attached to him. When he’s waiting by the door every day at 6pm when Jim gets home from work. When he’s so excited to be taught new things. When he helps Jim around the house with his crazy mind power shit.
He doesn’t belong to Hopper, though. He has parents. Parents who haven’t called in nine fucking years for an update, but parents.
He’s sitting in his office with a number on a stick pad on his desk. It took forever for him to track down James and Stephanie’s new number, but he finally managed to. He’s been staring at this stupid piece of paper for thirty minutes now, trying to just make himself dial the damn numbers.
Steve deserved to be with his parents. No matter how much it was going to hurt to let him go.
Jim finally makes himself dial the number, and each ring feels like an eternity.
“Hello?” A deep voice says, one he immediately recognizes as James, and Jim sighs.
“James Harrington?”
“Who is this?”
“This is Chief Jim Hopper from Hawkins.”
“Oh, Jim. It’s been a few years.”
“Nine.”
“Yes, nine years since the last time I heard from you. What do I have the pleasure of hearing from you today about?”
Jim takes a deep breath, his grip on the phone tightening, “I was calling regarding Stephen’s case.”
There’s a deathly silence over the phone, all he can hear is James Harrington breathing deeply into the phone. Jim waits, knows that this would be hard if it was Sarah.
“What about?”
“I found him.”
“Excuse me?”
“I found him. Alive. I have him, and I can bring him-“
“No.”
“No?”
“That won’t be necessary, Jim. We have moved on from that time in our lives.”
“That time in your life? You mean your fucking child?”
“Yes. Stephanie and I have moved on from it. We grieved the son we had, and our lives have changed. I do not want to open old wounds of my wife’s, or throw this at her out of the blue.”
“So let me get this straight,” Jim fumes, letting out a deep breath into the receiver, “I call you and tell you that your son is fucking alive, and you don’t want him?”
“Our lives no longer works in a way that we can have a child around.”
“That’s a load of fucking bullshit, and you know it. Your son is alive. He’s alive, and he needs his fucking parents. And what, because you moved away and your life is so much better without your kid, you don’t want him?”
“I wouldn’t expect you to understand-“
“You’re right. I fucking don’t. Because your son is an amazing fucking kid. He doesn’t ask for anything, he cleans up after himself, all he fucking wants is someone to be there and take care of him.”
“Sounds like he found that in you. He doesn’t have need for us.”
“You’re a real piece of fucking work, did you know that?”
“Listen, Jim,” James says, sighing quietly, “I understand that this may seem like I’m being heartless, but I’m not. I’m considering the fact that Stephen would not have an adequate life with us. Me and Stephanie do not have time to be raising a child who was lost for years, who we have grieved, let go. You said it yourself, he needs someone who can be there for him, take care of him. That isn’t us. But, it sounds like you.”
“So, what? You want me to fucking keep him?”
“I think that is what is best for everyone involved. If not you, then another family. Of course, there will be a few legal things we will need handle, getting his death certificate nullified and signing away our parental rights-“
“I can’t believe you’re even considering this. He’s your son.”
“He was. He isn’t anymore.”
Jim doesn’t know how he keeps his composure for the rest of the phone call. His anger is bubbling. It’s worse than it’s ever been. He can’t believe that this piece of shit doesn’t want his son back.
But, that’s fucking fine.
He’ll keep Steve.
He’ll keep him and keep him fucking safe.
________
It turns out, it takes a lot to get a death certificate overturned.
And a lot of it involved having to take Steve to the doctor for tests to prove that he was the missing Harrington boy.
Steve did not like the idea of that.
Jim had tried to bring it up to him slowly, promising him that it would be quick, that they just needed the doctors to do a few tests, but Steve had lost it.
Completely and utterly lost it.
It’s the first time that Steve’s powers are out of control. He breaks the lightbulb in the lamp beside him with it, and his screams and cries were just as shattering as the bulb was.
“Bad men. Bad men. Bad men.”
“No, Steve, I’m not taking you to the bad men. I promise. It’s a normal doctor-“
At the word doctor, Steve full body flenches, and his crying gets harder if that’s even possible. Jim drops to his knees in front of him, putting his hands on both of Steve’s shoulders, forcing him to look at him.
“Kid, you’re going to get sick if you don’t calm down. Have I ever hurt you?”
Steve shakes his head, shoulders wracking with sobs,
“Exactly. I’m never going to. And I’m never going to let anyone hurt you either. These doctors are good guys. They just want to help.”
“B-Bad-“
“I know you’ve been around bad doctors, bud. I know it. But these ones? They’re not bad. I’ll say it again. I won’t ever let anyone hurt you.”
To Jim’s surprise, Steve falls onto his shoulder and sobs there. He wraps his arms around Steve’s growing frame, holding him tight, tears of his own fighting their way up. He holds Steve until his cries finally die down, one hand on the back of the hair that grew there, rocking him side to side.
“… Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Good doctors.”
“I promise. Good doctors, no bad men.”
“Okay.”
He hugs him a little tighter, “Thank you, Steve.”
___________
It’s nine months to the day that Jim found Steve that they’re able to move forward with the adoption. He expected it to be a lot more complicated of a situation, but with James and Stephanie signing their rights away to Jim without even seeing Steve, it’s pretty straight forward.
It’s two weeks before Christmas when everything is finalized. Stephen James Harrington becomes Stephen James Hopper on December 17th of ‘79.
On Christmas day, Jim gets to teach Steve the wonders of Christmas. He goes all out, spends more than he should on a kid who doesn’t have a lot of hobbies, but it’s Steve’s first Christmas since he was four years old. He deserves it.
The first time he really hears Steve laugh is that day. It’s over some dumb robot toy he bought him, but it moves on its own, and Jim almost trips over it. He curses as he stumbles, he hears a quiet snort from behind him, and turns around to find Steve chewing on his bottom lip.
“You think that’s funny? Me almost tripping?”
Steve nods, snorts again, and Jim shakes his head before crossing the room in a playful manner. Steve watches him, chewing on his bottom lip to hold in the laughter, but it doesn’t last for long when Jim starts tickling him.
He laughs.
He really laughs.
It’s deep in his belly, it shakes his whole body, and Jim laughs too.
It’s his second Christmas without Sarah, but Steve helps.
__________
Steve’s speech improves drastically when Jim gets him into speech therapy. He starts using full sentences, forgetting a few words here and there, but he learns.
Hopper is so proud of him.
_________
April 20th is Steve’s birthday.
One day after Sarah’s.
He had forgotten to check his file last year, so they had missed it. It felt like the universe was playing tricks on him, making Steve’s birthday the day after the second hardest day of Jim’s life.
He missed it last year, but he won’t miss it this year.
So, he mourns on the 19th, and celebrates on the 20th.
After talking to Steve about it, he calls Joyce and invites her and her sons to the cabin to meet Steve. It’s time for him to start meeting new people, to make friends.
Steve gets up early on his birthday, Jim can hear the shower running before he’s even peeled himself out of bed. He sits up groggily, running his hands up and down his face, before pushing himself out of bed to start his coffee and make them breakfast.
Except, when he goes out, the coffee is already made in the pot. He’d shown Steve a few weeks ago how to do it, and some mornings, he’d have it made before Jim got up to go to work. It brings a smile to his face every time.
When Steve emerges from the bathroom, he has a towel tucked tightly around his waist, his hair is wet and sticking to his forehead.
“Hop.”
“Yeah?”
“Can you help me pick outfit?”
“You’re usually pretty good at it-“
“Wanna look nice. For friends.”
So, Jim helps him. He helps him pick out a pair of dark blue jeans, a light grey v-neck shirt, and a plaid flannel shirt that they roll the sleeves up on. He combs Steve’s hair to the side, keeping it out of his face, all while Steve stands there and never complains. He’s looking at his reflection in the mirror, studying it, which Jim catches him doing fairly often. It’s like he isn’t sure if it’s him or not.
“What do you think?”
“It’s nice. Comfortable.”
“Good.”
“Do you think they will like me?”
“Jonathan and Will?”
“Yes.”
“Of course they will, Steve. There’s nothing about you not to like.”
“I have never had.. Friends.”
“Well, there’s a first time for everything, isn’t there?”
“Yes.”
“They’ll be here in a couple of hours, wanna help me decorate?”
Steve nods, and together, they put up the few decorations that Jim went into town and bought. A banner is hung above the kitchen table, a few balloons blown up, a cloth on the living room table, and a couple of party hats. Jim knows that it’s been ten years since Steve has had a proper birthday party, and he feels bad that this is all he can do, but it’s all his grief will allow.
The Byer’s show up right on time, which Jim is incredibly thankful for. Steve has been sitting on the couch, tapping his food nervously for the past thirty minutes. When he hears the car pull up, he gets a little tense, but he looks over at Jim with expecting eyes.
“Okay, Steve. Remember the rules. Don’t use your powers, don’t talk about your powers, and just be yourself. Are you ready?”
“Yes.”
Jim walks over to the door when there’s a knock on it, and he opens it to be greeted by Joyce’s smiling face. She pulls him into a hug, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, and he holds her close for a couple of seconds. It feels nice.
“Hi, Hop.”
“Joyce. It’s nice to see you. The boys too.”
Behind her are Jonathan and Will. Jonathan is Steve’s age, around fourteen, while Will is only nine. He’s small, they have matching bowl cut haircuts, though Jonathan’s is a little more grown out than Will’s.
“You too! We have been looking forward to meeting Steve all week,” She says as she pulls back, and her eyes find where Steve is now standing awkwardly to their side. She’s still smiling as she takes a couple steps towards him, “And you must be Steve.”
“Yes.”
“I’m Joyce. It’s so nice to meet you.”
Jim watches as Joyce wraps her arms around Steve’s shoulders, pulling him into a hug. For a moment, Steve hesitates, arms hanging at his side, but then he surprises Jim by wrapping his arms back around her and almost melting into Joyce’s body.
“Nice to meet you.”
“And these are my sons, Jonathan and Will. They’ve also been very excited to meet you.”
Jonathan waves, but Will stands half way behind Jonathan, hiding. Steve waves back, but he has a curious look in his eyes as he looks at both of them. Like he’s trying to figure them out, but Jim thinks it’s a good sign. He hasn’t freaked out, hasn’t cried, nothing of the sort.
After a few moments, Joyce and Jim excuse themselves to the kitchen to finish making some food for the boys, while Jonathan and Will make themselves comfortable on the couch with Steve between them. There’s a cartoon on the TV, and Jim can’t take his eyes off of them for more than a few seconds.
He just wants this to work.
He wants Steve to have friends. Real friends.
“Give them time,” Joyce says from behind him, “Jonathan and Will are both shy boys. It might take a little bit for them to all open up to each other.”
“I’m just worried, s’all.”
“I know. But, I think it’ll be fine. Both of my boys are really welcoming.”
“Steve’s just… a bit odd-“
Jim cuts off as he hears laughter coming from the living room, and when him and Joyce look over, Steve is laughing with Jonathan, and Will has a sweet smile on his face.
“Told you.”
____________
After Steve’s party, the boys have a sleepover. It’s the first of many.
Jonathan quickly becomes Steve’s best friend. Jim loves watching it happen. Hearing Steve cackle and seeing him smile. He’d happily host all three boys often if it meant that being the Steve he gets to see every day.
____________
It takes a lot of convincing on Jim’s part to get the superintendent to allow Steve to start school as a freshman with the rest of his class in the fall. Considering Steve has zero formal schooling under his belt, not even kindergarten, it’s a push. He knows that.
But, he also knows that Steve deserves the most normal life he can give him, and that includes going to high school.
Since starting speech therapy and Jim getting him a tutor, Steve has excelled. He’s talking in more complete sentences, albeit a little awkward sometimes, and he picks up on his subjects as fast as he can.
Plus, Steve was actually excited when Jim brought up going to school. Because that meant that he got to hang out with Jonathan every day, and he got to learn.
So, Jim wasn’t going to let him not go.
It ended up with Steve needing to take a test to see if he could enter the 9th grade. He didn’t have to ace it, but he couldn’t fail it. Jim knows that this probably wouldn’t happen for other students, that he’s sling his dick around as chief of police, but if it meant that Steve could have a normal life, he’d fucking do it.
Proud doesn’t even begin to describe the feeling that washes over Jim when Steve does pass. Maybe it isn’t perfect, he misses some questions, but he gets enough right to get to start school with everyone else.
Steve gets his first real haircut in preparation, just a little off the sides and the back so that it’ll keep growing nicely, and Hopper takes him shopping for new clothes for the school year. It feels weird, jumping from buying clothes for a 3rd grade girl to a 9th grade boy, but he still does it with a smile on his face.
Maybe some of the stuff is a little strange, stuff that Jim wouldn’t personally pick out, but if Steve likes it, then that’s fine. He gets some polo shirts, a couple of button downs, some khaki pants and jeans, and by the end of it, Steve is practically bouncing with excitement.
The night before school, Jim sits down with Steve at their kitchen table, just to go over the rules one more time.
“So, school tomorrow. What are the rules?”
“No powers. Be on my best behavior. Be polite. Do not speak over my teachers. Take notes. Pay attention.”
“Good job, bud.”
“I am excited.”
“I know. You’re gonna like it, I hope.”
“I will. Jonathan will be there.”
“Joyce and I tried to get you guys into as many of the same classes as we could, so hopefully, it’ll be easy.”
“Thank you, Hop.”
“You’re welcome, kid.”
_____________
The best part about Steve going missing when he did, if there is one, is that he hadn’t started school when he went missing. Sure, a lot of the adults in town knew about the missing Harrington boy, but the kids would’ve been too young to remember. So, Jim knows that at least, he won’t have to deal with any negative comments about that.
Steve loves school at first. He’s excited to go every day, talks a million miles a second when he gets home, and is always ready to do his homework.
But, about three months in, he starts not to love it as much.
“My teacher talks too fast. I cannot catch up.”
“Have you asked her to slow down?”
Steve nods, “Yes. And one of the kids called me stupid.”
“Excuse me?”
“He said it is not their fault that I am stupid and need them to go slower.”
“Who the hell said that?”
“It does not matter.”
“It does, Steve. These kids don’t get to treat you like shit just because you need a little extra time-“
“Maybe school was a bad idea.”
“No, it wasn’t. You have to go to school, that’s part of life.”
“Maybe I am too stupid for it.”
Jim reaches across the table and puts his hand on top of Steve’s, shaking his head, “You are not stupid. You have never been stupid. Do you hear me?”
Steve gets this overly defeated look on his face, before he nods, “Okay.”
“I mean it, Steve. You’re not stupid.”
___________
Hopper teaches Steve how to shave his face. His facial hair didn’t come until a little later than most boys his age, and Jim thinks maybe it’s because of the way he was raised. But, they sit in the bathroom together, music playing in the other room, and Jim teaches him.
Steve nicks his face a few times, looks defeated by it, but Jim assures him that every guy nicks their face, even he does.
__________
In ‘82, Steve turns sixteen years old.
Sarah would have been twelve.
For the past couple of months, Jim has been teaching Steve how to drive. Just up and down the road, back to the house, in a parking lot a couple of times, but he gets the hang of it fast. He’s grown so much in the last year, he’s almost Jim’s height now, and they started working out some together. He’s so much stronger than the frail boy that Jim found in the woods.
And he’s so, so proud of him.
So, for Steve’s sixteenth, Jim buys him a car.
A nice car.
It’s newer than anything Jim has ever owned, it’s going to take him forever to pay it off, but it’s worth it when Steve gets so fucking excited to see it pull into the driveway one day.
It’s a 1980 BMW, it’s burgundy, and Steve loves it.
When he gets his license, Jim lets him just… Go. Steve is gone for a few hours, driving around, but he comes back with goofy ass smile on his face, and it makes the nerves worth it.
_____________
In July, they have their first real fight.
It’s the first time that Steve truly acts like the teenage boy that he is, and it's the first time that Jim ever raises his voice at him.
The fight is over something stupid. Steve wants to go to Jonathan’s, but he’s been there every night for the past week. Jim can’t remember the last time that they sat down like a family and ate together.
So, he tells Steve no.
Which he has never really done before.
It seems to startle Steve, he looks back over at where Jim is sitting in his recliner, and he furrows his eyebrows.
“No?”
“Yeah, I said no.”
“Why?”
“Because you see Jonathan every day. I can’t remember the last time you just stayed home.”
“But, I want to go hang out-“
“You can tomorrow. Tonight, we’re hanging out as a family.”
“Why?”
“Why?” Jim replies, furrowing his brows at Steve, “Because you’re the kid, I’m the parent, and I said no.”
“That’s not fair-“
“It’s plenty fair. I let you do whatever you want most of the time, Steve. It isn’t unreasonable to want you home for one night.”
Steve turns towards Jim, crossing his arms across his chest, “I want to hang out with Jonathan. Not you.”
“That’s too damn bad, kid. I said no. The answer is no.”
“I-“
“Give me your car keys.”
“What?” Steve almost shouts, shaking his head, “No, it’s mine-“
“It’s mine. I pay for it. I let you drive it.”
“No, it’s mine. You gave it to me for my birthday.”
“Yeah, I did. I gave you permission to drive a car that I am paying for on your birthday, but as the parent, I reserve the right to take away that permission whenever I want. Tonight, we are staying home together. We can watch something on TV, make something to eat, and hang out-“
“I don’t want to hang out with you.”
“Yeah, you said that. Problem is, I don’t really care what you want to do. That’s what’s happening.”
“You’re being an asshole.”
It’s the first time that Steve has ever cussed around him, and it sends a shock to Jim’s core. He’s an asshole? After everything that he’s done for him? Taken him in? Given him everything he’s ever wanted?
“I’m being an asshole? Where did you even learn that word? Is that what you’re learning at Jonathan’s house? How to be disrespectful?”
There’s a look on Steve’s face that is full of attitude. Jim hates it.
“You are an asshole.”
“And you’re grounded. How about that?”
Jim gets up out of his seat, stomping over to where Steve’s car keys are hung up by the door, grabbing them. Steve tries to stop him, grab them before Jim can, but he’s too slow. He curls them into his palm, walking back over to his chair, putting the keys on the side table.
“You’re grounded, Steve. For two nights. That means you’re not driving, you’re not going to Jonathan’s, you’re not doing anything fun-“
As he’s speaking, the car keys fly off of the counter and into Steve’s hand without him even moving. Stupid fucking mind powers. Jim underestimated just how hard it would be to parent a kid who can move things with his goddamn mind.
“Give those back to me.”
“No. It’s my car.”
“Give me the goddamn key, Stephen.”
“No.”
“Fine, then you’re grounded for two weeks. Went from two nights to two goddamn weeks.”
“Asshole.”
“And now it’s a month. How do you like that?”
“I don't like it.”
“Good. Now, keys.”
Jim extends his hand between them, expectingly. Steve stares him down, grip on the keys tightening, his whole body shaking with how angry he is. Jim doesn't back down, he can’t, he can’t let Steve win this fight.
With a frustrated cry, Steve slams the keys in Jim’s hand so hard that it pushes his arm down, it reverberates all the way up to his shoulder, and then he’s storming to his room after shoulder checking Hop on his way to the door.
“HEY.” Jim shouts as he turns around, but Steve doesn’t stop stomping until he’s in his room, slamming his door shut with his mind.
Except, when he does that, the entire fucking house shakes. It only makes Jim angrier.
“Stephen, if you ever fucking slam a door like that in my house again, you’ll be grounded for a goddamn year. Do you hear me?” Jim says, going over to Steve’s door, hitting his palm on the door a few times, “You’re almost a fucking grown up, you need to fucking act like it. Oh, boohoo, you can’t go to your friends house for one night, your life is so fucking-“
From inside Steve’s room, he heard Steve scream in anger. The lights flicker in the house, and then there’s a crack through the door, and three of the windows shatter.
In the few years that he’s had Steve, he’s never really seen him lose control of his powers.
Not like this.
And it’s all his fucking fault.
He realizes as soon as the glass stops falling that he pushed him too far over something so fucking stupid.
__________
The next morning, Jim gets up early with the intention of cooking breakfast for Steve and apologizing. But, he’s woken up by the sound of glass being swept, the smell of coffee, and he peaks his head out to see Steve cleaning everything up.
When his door opens, Steve looks over at him. His eyes are so remorseful.
“I’m sorry.” Steve says, and Jim nods.
“Me too, kid. Me too.”
____________
Life goes back to normal after that. They fix the windows together, Steve goes back to school, he starts making more friends that he didn’t have before, and Jim goes back to work.
In ‘83, Steve is a junior in high school. He’s doing well, all things considered, his grades might not be the highest, but Jim wasn’t expecting him to be a straight A student.
Everything was normal.
It was so, fucking normal.
Until it wasn’t.