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Steve Harrington came into your life much like Hawkins did: unexpected, deft, and steadfast.
You never expected Hawkins to become your home as it did. At the end of the summer of ‘85, your dad announced to the family that he got a new job offer in Indiana that he was inclined to take. The money increase was substantial so your mom didn’t take much convincing. She could have the bakery anywhere.
The bakery was something you never imagined your mom would sell. Your dad’s career in the administrative side of manufacturing was lucrative, but the bakery was the family business. Your mom had owned and operated Sunnyside Bakery since before she met your dad. Memories of early childhood spent coloring on a table in the corner, lips smeared with frosting and crumbs, were sacred. You made your first batch of cookies in that kitchen before you had started kindergarten. Calvin dumped flour on your head one day after school, before you had a date, because he was annoyed you ate the last pancake at breakfast. You had your sweet sixteen there and your high school graduation party. It was as much your home as your childhood house.
Suddenly, she was selling it to the assistant manager, Clarisse, and was ready to join your dad in Indiana. Which was hard to wrap your head around because your future had always been tied to Sunnyside. You’d known since you were fifteen that you wanted to take over the bakery when your mom retired. Anything other than community college for an associates in business administration made no sense. Clarisse had been around since you were in middle school, and you know she’d love for you to stick around and stay with Sunnyside. Nothing had to change there.
But it did. Because Calvin had came back from college with a degree in accounting to work for your mom, and he was going with them, too. So, it would just be you. And, yes, you have friends. Good ones too. But, it felt as if everything you’ve centered your life around was ready to just up and leave your hometown.
So, you followed.
Rolling with the punches was something that came easily for you. It doesn't mean you didn’t have feelings about certain changes, but when it comes down to it, what will be, will be. There was an ease you liked that came with the path of least resistance. So, if the future you’d come to want was going to Indiana, then so were you.
Hawkins was humid and hot, which made moving and setting up a new bakery storefront that much more fun. The weeks following the move were filled with you and your brother unpacking boxes at your new house while your mother focused on the currently unnamed new bakery. The storefront was right downtown and at a fantastic price. There honestly wasn’t much on Main Street. Apparently, the new local mall had stolen most of the business. Yet again, said mall was closed due to damage from a fire. So, a local push to revitalize downtown allowed your mom to get established quickly.
By the time the dark green summer leaves turned shades of gold and red, it was time for the grand opening of Heaven’s Scent Bakery. Your days shifted from unpacking and rearranging furniture at the changing whims of your parents to helping run the bakery from the afternoon into the evening. Hawkins was a smaller town, so word spread quickly, and the reputation your mom spent years building with Sunnyside clearly moved here with her. As did her ability to become friends with anyone or anything.
A batch of snickerdoodle cookies and your mom’s charming smile as she introduced herself to the neighbors, brought the Hendersons into your life. There were only two of them, but you only knew one by name: Claudia. She seemed sweet enough from the way she waved whenever she saw you and returned the cookie favor with a warm meatloaf.
She had a kid who wasn't around a lot. You’ve caught him and his mop of curly hair zipping by on his bike now and then. You’re pretty sure he wears a bulky headset too, but not entirely certain. Nonetheless, it didn’t surprise you that only mere months after moving to Hawkins, your mom announced:
“Claudia and Dustin are coming over for dinner on Sunday.”
Calvin didn’t look up from where he was reading on the couch. “Who’s Dustin?”
“Henderson,” your mom replied, exasperation in her voice. “Claudia’s son.”
Your mom may have owned Heaven’s Scent and be the main baker, but mouth-watering scents coming from the kitchen were not something you grew up with. Considering she was at the store by 4 am, there was little energy to repeat what she did for work at home. You, on the other hand, really never seemed to tire of baking. Ever since you started doing it in high school, the urge to make more, whether at home or in the bakery, never dwindled.
In a good mood? Bake. Stressed? Bake. Angry? Bake.
Experimenting with flavors and textures and new recipes could keep you busy for days. That was to say, you were in charge of dessert for Sunday.
The spiced caramel apple pie with a brown butter crust came out of the oven just as the doorbell rang, so it would be the right temperature to eat when dinner finished up. Plus, you made sure to have vanilla ice cream on hand for those who knew how to eat pie right.
You piled around the dining room table, finding yourself squished between Calvin and Dustin. In the middle of the table was a bouquet of flowers your mom picked, the lasagna your dad cooked, and the fresh garden salad Claudia brought. You found out that Claudia was a waitress at one of the town diners and that Dustin was a freshman at Hawkins High. He was a talker, going on and on about his classes, friends, and something called Hellfire.
“Dungeons and Dragons,” Dustin said after noting the confusion on your face. “Me and my friends have been playing for years.”
You knew next to nothing about the game, but were charmed by how passionately he spoke about the campaign he was currently in. Plus, he took his slice of pie with two scoops of ice cream.
“You made this?!” Dustin’s mouth was stuffed with pie as he spoke, earning him a look from Claudia.
“Dusty-bun, they own the new bakery downtown.”
You didn’t know if it was possible for his eyes to get more excited.
The bell on the front door of Heaven’s Scent dinged, letting a waft of cool autumn air into the warm bakery. You looked up from your spot behind the register to see a familiar head of curls walking your way.
He came up to the counter with a grin, the rim of his baseball cap shading his eyes.
“Hi!”
“Hey.” You chuckled. “Finally found your way here.”
“My mom wanted me to pick something up for her, plus I needed to try something of yours after that pie.”
“I’m flattered.” You gestured towards the display case. “Anything look good?”
You always made sure to stock the basics: fresh bread, croissants, muffins, cupcakes, donuts, cookies, brownies, and cakes. Though you had a rotating menu of more unique items that varied in flavors like macrons, mini tarts, and cheesecake bars. That, along with the small selection of coffee and teas, allowed most customers to find something they liked.
Dustin pointed to the walnut brownie for himself and the blueberry muffin for Claudia. “And a hot chocolate, please!”
When his order was ready, Dustin looked around the store instead of saying goodbye. After surveying the mostly empty tables, he settled in the armchair by the window and pulled out a book. You smiled to yourself. There may not be a ton of seating, but you and your mom did your best to create an inviting atmosphere that would make someone want to hang out for a while.
There were four two-person tables spaced out so there was room in the middle to walk up to the counter. Two four-person tables were along the wall by the bathroom. A loveseat and two armchairs were circled around the window with a coffee table in the center. Warm lighting flooded the space with floor lamps placed along walls and in corners. The only thing really missing was wall decor, but everyone was still stumped on what to put up.
A couple more teenagers wandered in and settled on the opposite end to eat something and do some homework. Which was exactly why your mom started having the bakery have longer hours.
You're in the middle of wiping down the counter when Dustin stood up and waved goodbye, before saying something you couldn’t hear into his radio headset. And so began a new pattern of Dustin showing up to Heaven’s Scent after school to do work, prep for D‘nD, or to just chill.
Soon, your mom hired another young woman named Molly as a cashier to join you for afternoon shifts so you could spend more time in the kitchen and less up front. But you always came to say hi when Dustin popped in. Oftentimes, you would be elbow deep in kneading bread dough to be baked in the morning or popping cookies your mom had prepped in the morning into the oven. Your favorite moments were when everything else was mostly done, and you could mess around with new flavors.
You often would have leftovers of these experimental batches since they weren’t for sale yet.
“Dustin!” You called out, poking your head from the doorway leading to the kitchen one afternoon. He looked up from his usual spot by the window, nose deep in some textbook. You glanced around to make sure he was the only one here. “Want some free brownies?”
You didn’t think a person could nod harder or faster than he did. He went home with a batch of butterscotch caramel brownies with the critique that you needed to add more butterscotch. And from then on, he was your trusted taste tester. Over the weeks, you found yourself looking forward to the afternoons after school when he would drop by and linger at the counter to tell you about his day and assignments. He’d always ask how you were settling into town and when the hell did you become genuine friends with a fourteen-year-old?
Some days, he’d hang around until close, when the only things you were selling were coffee and whatever was left over from the breakfast and lunch rushes. More often than not, you’d give him a to-go bag of leftovers that you couldn’t put out the next morning. Apparently, those leftovers weren’t going to Claudia like you had assumed, but ended up being snacks for Hellfire.
The next time he came by the shop, he had an entourage in tow.
Dustin pointed to each of his three friends. “This is Mike Wheeler, Lucas Sinclair, and Eddie Munson, the head of Hellfire.”
You leaned against the counter, letting your eyes wander across the group. They landed on Eddie as you nodded at him. “And you’re sure this is actually an after-school game club, and not a motorcycle gang?”
Eddie primed himself like he was going to retaliate before getting distracted by the music playing over the speakers. He paused. “Is this Over the Mountain by Ozzy Osbourne?"
“Yeah,” you said. “My brother showed it to me, and I liked it, so I added it to the mix-tape I have for my shifts. It’s not, like, my typical stuff, but I dig it.”
He hummed, narrowing his eyes as he considered you for a moment. “Okay, Henderson, you were right.”
Dustin lit up, standing up a bit taller at the praise.
“He keeps saying you’re cool.” Lucas rolled his eyes. “I’m reserving my judgment for after I try the German chocolate cupcake.”
(They all end up agreeing that Dustin was right.)
Eddie became a semi-regular of Heaven’s Scent after that. Usually, he would tuck himself at one of the big tables, spread out with notes for the next Hellfire session and his headphones on. The coffee was cheap, and you never felt the need to kick him out when his cup ran dry.
It was a Wednesday afternoon, and the bakery was annoyingly dead when the shopkeeper’s bell jingled as the door opened. Molly was off today, so it was just you up front, leaning against the counter, reading some mystery novel you checked out from the library. You glanced up to see a guy around your age wearing a denim jacket and hair that was almost too tall for its own good. He was mumbling to himself.
“Stupid idiot kids. This is my life now, apparently. Full of shitheads who make me get them things--Hey!” He cut himself off from his rambling when he reached the counter and realized someone was there. His scowl was replaced with a bright smile as he looked from you to your book to the display case of baked goods.
“Hi.”
He blinked at you. “Right, right. Uh, I’m supposed to pick up ‘the usual’ for Dustin, whatever that means.”
Oh, this was one of Dustin’s friends. Your eyebrows furrowed as you cycled through the different names Dustin would bring up in his stories. This guy definitely wasn’t one of his friends that was his own age. And you already knew Eddie. So, who…?
“Steve!” Your voice was louder than you intended as you came to your realization. Steve’s surprised expression made that apparent. You laughed. “Sorry. Dustin talks about you a lot. I’ll get that right out for you.”
You turned, then paused at the sudden mention of your name. Glancing back, Steve was smiling at you. “That’s your name, right? They’ve been talking about the new bakery for a while. And I’ve been meaning to check it out.”
You matched his smile with a nod. “Well, it’s very nice to meet you.”
The “usual” was an order that had everyone from Hellfire’s preferred treat from the bakery. After the third time, you had it memorized. Mike wanted a banana nut muffin, Lucas always got a raspberry croissant, Eddie was partial to the blueberry crumble bar, and Dustin always wanted you to surprise him. Gareth and Jeff would split one of the seasonally decorated sugar cookies.
Steve watched as you gathered all the food and packaged it into a to-go container. You stopped before closing it, looking over at him. “What’s your favorite pastry?”
“Uh.” He perused your selection. “Honestly? A glazed donut.”
You grabbed a slip of tissue paper and selected the biggest one from the case. Reaching over the counter, you handed it to it. “On the house, on the occasion it's your first time.”
The lights from the bakery bathed Steve in a golden glow, bringing out the warmth in his skin and eyes. He hesitated for a moment before reaching to meet your hand. As he took the donut, his fingers brushed yours. Your brain immediately categorized this as something you liked.
Steve took a careful bite, teeth cracking through the glaze and sinking into the bread. His eyes fluttered shut, and his neck tipped back a bit, exposing his Adam’s apple. He hummed. “Mhmm, yep, yep. This might be the single best donut I’ve ever had.”
You laughed. “How lucky for you that those donuts are right downtown.”
His eyes opened, and met yours, a playful glint shining through. “Where have you been all my life?”
From there, Steve was just kind of around. Mostly at the bakery, where he showed up as much as possible. His schedule was never super consistent, but he would always show his face when you were working. To the point that Molly would go get you from the kitchen when he stepped through the door.
There would be times he’d run into an old classmate or two and get locked into five minutes of small talk, but his attention would usually be on you. He’d lean against the display case where it met the wall, so he wasn’t really blocking the view of anyone who wanted to look. With a glazed donut in one hand and sometimes a coffee in the other, he’d chat with you as you helped up front.
(Yes, you had stuff to do in the kitchen, but you could spare 15-minutes an hour for Steve.)
The two of you had made an art out of continuing the flow of a conversation between interruptions from customers. You’ve gotten used to his laughter filling the store as he told you his version of his adventures with Dustin. And every time he realized he was running late to his shift at Family Video, he’d grab a chocolate turtle cluster for someone named Robin, who was another frequent player in his and Dustin’s tales.
“One of these days, I’ve got to get a watch,” he grumbled, mostly to himself.
You handed him the bag with the cluster, a sympathetic smile on your lips. “You’re a very attentive boyfriend.”
This made Steve pause. The hand reaching for the bag hung there for a second before he shook his head rapidly. “Robin? No, nope. Just friends. Platonic with a capital ‘P.’ Trust me.”
“Okay, well, then you’re a very attentive friend.”
You watched his face flush as he finally took the bag from your hand. “Thanks, I try.”
The ring of the telephone was sharp and bright, cutting through the quiet murmur of conversations happening across the bakery. Molly called your name loud enough to rise above all of it. “I’m in the middle of an order!”
“I’ve got it,” you called back.
You wiped your hands on your apron before grabbing the phone. “Heaven’s Scent Bakery, how can I help you?”
“Have you seen Eddie?” The voice on the other end was very familiar.
“Dustin?”
“Yeah, yeah, hi.” His tone was breathless and a little dismissive. “Have you seen Eddie in like the past 24 hours? Has he been there?”
“Uh, hold on.” You covered the bottom of the phone as you stretched the cord to peek out the kitchen door, taking note of everyone sitting down. No Eddie. You said as much to Dustin.
“Shit. Shit!”
“Dustin, what’s going on?”
He sighed heavily. “Look, just meet me and Max at Family Video in ten minutes.”
“What?”
“Ten minutes!” And then the line went dead.
You stared at the phone in your hand with confusion. Your shift had only just started, but Dustin’s tone seemed serious. Eddie was eccentric; maybe he was just off somewhere strange. But, something about the panic laced in Dustin’s voice gnawed at your gut.
“Molly, I’m headed out. Tell my mom it was a friend's emergency. Call Calvin if you need backup! I owe you one.”
Walking through the parking lot, you could see Dustin, Steve, and two girls through the windows. They were all circled around the main desk in the middle of the store. You hesitated before opening the door. What were you doing here? But, before you could second-guess yourself too much, Dustin saw you through the glass and waved you in.
Steve stood up a little straighter once he saw you, a smile spreading across his face. “Hey! What’re you doin’ here?”
You looked at Dustin just as he answered. “She’s the person we were waiting for before leaving.”
“Dude.” Steve’s smile dropped, and his eyes narrowed. “Seriously? You’re dragging her into this, too?”
Dustin rolled his eyes. “Okay, first, she arguably has a more flexible schedule than you and Robin, since her parents own the place where she works. So, if finding Eddie takes longer than we think, she could help us keep looking if you two get dragged to something else.” He turned to you. “Am I wrong?”
You thought for a second before nodding. Your parents were pretty understanding of extraneous circumstances. Usually.
“Second,” he continued. “We can trust her. And people like that are becoming pretty fucking hard to come by these days.”
Steve looked like he was going to argue, but the older of the two girls spoke up first, her eyes bright and excited. “Sorry! I wanted to say hi and introduce myself before those two get into it again. My name’s Robin, I’ve heard a lot about you from Steve. You make the turtle clusters, right? Literally look forward to that every time he comes from the bakery.” She held her hand out over the counter for you to shake.
You shook her hand with a smile. “I’ve heard a lot about you, too. And yeah, that’s actually one of the ones I make.”
The shorter girl with red hair nodded at you. “I’m Max.”
You started to wave at her when Dustin groaned loudly. “Alright! Everyone is introduced. We have a potential location for Eddie, so can we please get going?”
And, so, you were off.
You tried not to think too hard about the fact that Robin pushed you to take the passenger’s seat of Steve’s car while she climbed in the back with Dustin and Max. But, it lingered at the front of your mind as they filled you in on where they were going and what was going on. A murder. And a drug dealer’s house. Cool. Coolcoolcool.
The thought still lingered in your mind as you walked behind Steve and Dustin as they started to poke around the boathouse. Robin and Max were to your right when Eddie popped out, pinning Steve against the wall. There was a chorus of panic yells and platitudes, trying to talk Eddie down.
Dustin said your name. “She’s from Heaven’s Scent. You know, where you sometimes go to plan the campaign?” He took a breath. “Eddie. We’re on your side. I swear on my mother! Right, guys?”
“Yes, yes we swear!” “On Dustin’s mother.” “I swear on Claudia!”
After a moment, Eddie let Steve go, who quickly crossed to the other side of the room. Robin reached his side first, her hand out, concerned. You and Max were close behind. Without thinking, you closed in on his personal space, reaching up to gently tilt his chin so you could look at his neck. He was fine. You stayed for a moment before realizing what you were doing and backed off.
“Oh, sorry!”
Steve was taking deep breaths. His voice was quiet. “No, no, it’s fine. I’m fine.”
You watched Dustin crouch down to Eddie’s level, as Robin and Max crept closer. They were talking in hushed whispers, but you caught it when Eddie croaked, “You won’t believe me.”
Max’s tone had a steadfast confidence when she replied. “Try us.”
Your gut clenched, and the feeling that you had no idea what you were getting yourself into grew exponentially.
You stood at the back of the group, a little behind Robin as Eddie explained what happened to him and Chrissy. How it was like some supernatural force had mangled her right in front of him. It sounded like the plot to a horror movie. But what caught you off guard even more was how confident the rest of the group was in believing his story. It wasn’t like you even thought he was lying, but the rest were acting like they’d seen this shit before.
“Look,” Dustin said to Eddie. “What I’m about to tell you might be a little difficult to take.” He craned his head back to look at you, making it clear this explanation was for both of you.
Cursed? Another world that leaked into ours? Monsters? Apparently, they’ve dealt with this before. You didn’t even realize you were lowering yourself to the ground until your butt hit the floor. You had thought Steve’s earlier comment about most of the people in the room having almost died a hundred times was weird, but not indicative of this.
You met Eddie’s eyes across the room, and his face matched what you expected yours looked like. The fear, disbelief, and confusion were evident. But, you hadn’t seen what he had. All of this was just words. However, the seriousness in Dustin’s tone and the devastation in Eddie’s story made you more inclined to trust them, even if your brain was struggling to catch up.
Dustin sighed, fully turning towards you. “Look , maybe Steve was right. I shouldn’t have dragged you into this. Just because this shit has invaded our lives for the past few years doesn’t mean you need to make it your problem too.”
Years? “No.” Your voice was a little croaky. “I want to help.”
You joined them the next day when they returned to the boathouse with a tote bag filled with food. You stayed up late into the night baking anything you could think of that had a longer shelf life than others, like Swedish hard bread, brownies, and sugar cookies. Your pantry also got raided for canned goods you knew your family wouldn’t miss.
On the drive home the night before, you offered to be the liaison between the group and Eddie, especially to help bring him food while he’s hiding out. You figured you could spin some story to your parents about helping out a sick friend. Dustin and Robin thought it was a good idea. Steve had his reserves.
“It’s not safe.”
Dustin scoffed. “Steve, c’mon.”
“Look, Munson is a wanted man right now, and with all this Upside Down shit coming back, it’s not a good idea for anyone to be wandering around alone.” He sighed. “Look, what if you still bring Munson his shit, but make sure you’ve got somebody with you.”
“I like that,” you said. It honestly did make you feel a bit better.
Luckily, this first food run happened to be during daylight with the whole crew. Eddie was perched on the boat, shoving cereal into his mouth while they gave him the rundown on what they figured out. You busied yourself on the other side, clearing off a toolbench to be a make-shift food area. Each item that you or Dustin brought got carefully taken out of the bag and placed. Dry goods on one end, followed by canned foods with an opener, drinks, baked goods, and then paper plates and napkins. You were only half paying attention to the conversation happening behind you.
“But, we’ve actually been through this before,” you heard Robin saying. “I mean, they have, a few times. I have, once. Mine was more…”
You didn’t catch the tail end of what she said next because your mind latched onto the fact that you were in a similar situation to Eddie. Not the being a suspect for murder thing, but the new to this whole “Upside Down” business. Everyone had this air of hesitant confidence about handling it, which did make you feel a little better. But what exactly could you do to help in this situation beyond being a glorified food delivery person?
It didn’t register that you were squeezing a box of Twinkies so hard that it bent until someone was taking it out of your hand. You blinked hard, taking a deep breath and trying to bring yourself back to the present moment. Looking to your right, you saw Steve watching you with concerned eyes and a tight frown. He set the box of Twinkies down where you had placed the other processed food.
“You good?”
“I, yeah. Yeah, I’m good. Just, processing, I guess.”
He nodded, leaning his hip against the tool bench so he was fully facing you. “No, yeah, I get it. Totally. When I first got thrown into this mess, I was like, completely freaking out. Honestly, I think you’re handling it better than I did. Though mine did have a killer monster coming after me and my ex and this other guy, so maybe the freak out was justified.”
You stifled a laugh. “That does seem freak-out worthy.”
He chuckled, smiling at you for a brief moment that brought some much-needed levity after the past 24 hours. “Seriously, though, if you need someone to talk to as you deal with all this, I’m around. Or if it gets too much and you wanna back out, no one is going to judge you.”
You would judge yourself, but you appreciated the sentiment. “Thanks, Steve.”
The sudden arrival of sirens put everyone on edge, as Robin scrambled to get Eddie hidden. You stood behind Steve and Dustin, looking out the window, only to see the police cars zipping past where you were.
Nancy Wheeler. You’d heard the name brought up in passing, only really in the context of her being Mike’s older sister. She was pretty and competent, something you quickly realized as she was already gunning to follow another lead. How many people were wrapped up in this Upside Down nonsense?
From the side of Steve’s car, you watched as he got worked up about Nancy going off by herself. He did the same thing with you the day before, so the pattern of behavior made sense. But it was the way Dustin rolled his eyes that made you pause. Steve said that his first time being involved in everything was with his ex. Maybe Nancy was her? The idea of there being a history between them made something uncomfortable tug in your chest.
Steve looked at the keys in his hands, then Nancy, then back at you, and then to his keys again. Finally, Robin sighed loudly and walked past Steve after grabbing a radio from Dustin’s backpack. “This is stupid. Nancy and I will stick together.” She glanced at Steve expectantly. “Unless you think we need you to protect us?”
You cleared your throat. “I think they can handle themselves.”
“Ha!” Robin laughed. “See, we’ll be fine.” She started walking off towards the other car. Nancy gave you a grateful look before waving goodbye to the group.
Steve turned around, one hand on his hip and the other combing through his hair. He sighed before shoving Dustin, who was grinning at his antics. “Get in the car.” When Dustin made for the front seat, he grabbed his shoulder and pushed him backwards. “Nope, backseat.”
You tried to hide your smile as Steve rounded the car and gave you an exasperated look over the roof. Sliding in, Steve made sure everyone was buckled before starting the car. He glanced your way. “I was serious. If this is getting too much, I can drop you back off at your house or the bakery.”
“What? No!” Dustin spoke up before you could. “You just made a huge deal about how we need to stick together. Plus, we have no idea how Vecna is doing this, so the more brains we have, the better.”
“I’m doing okay, Steve. The second I’m not, I’ll let you know. Promise.”
Steve parked the car across the street as you waited for Max to get what she needed from the counselor. Dustin poked his head between the two front seats, looking at Steve. “We gonna talk about it?”
“About what?”
“You going all white knight on Nancy earlier?”
Steve scoffed, whipping his head to look between you and Dustin. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
“I think there is.”
“Are you implying that I still have a thing for Nance?”
“I’m not implying, I’m stating.”
“Look! I was just trying to protect a friend.” He glanced at you for a moment. “Okay, yes, she is my ex-girlfriend, but that is long over. Done-zo. History. She’s with someone else now, and I’m--”
“Trying to date half of Hawkins?” Dustin supplied.
That just earned him a glare. “No. I haven’t been on a date in three months, mind you.”
“Because there’s no one left?”
“Okay, listen here, you little--”
Steve’s comeback was cut off by you bursting out laughing. Full on, doubled over, your stomach started to hurt type laughter. You weren’t sure if it was from the absurdity of the past day or so, or the righteous indignation in Steve’s voice that set you off. When you finally calmed down, you noticed Steve looking at you with a soft smile, which Dustin also seemed to notice.
“Okay, so I know you have a steadfast refusal to date Robin, which I don’t entirely get. But, why not her?” Dustin nodded towards you. “I mean, she is totally out of your league, so…”
“Hey!” Steve said, offended. But, he didn’t say anything else.
Dustin pointed at Steve’s face. “You’re like bright red in the face right now.”
“Shut up. I’ll punch you so hard in the face your teeth will fall back out.”
You zoned out a bit as Steve and Dustin bickered back and forth. Dating Steve. Why did you not hate that idea?
Your arms were crossed so tightly across your chest that you were starting to lose feeling in your fingertips. Max’s voice filled the room as she talked about how the symptoms she was experiencing lined up perfectly with Chrissy and Fred's.
She was Vecna’s next target.
This was all officially over your head.
You could tap out at any point. Limit yourself to making sure Eddie was alive and safe from the police. You hardly even knew Max. You just met her officially like a day ago. But you’ve heard good things from Dustin and Mike. She seemed like a good kid.
Taking a deep breath and forcing yourself to exhale slowly, relaxing the way your arms were squeezing into your chest, you brought your focus back to the conversation at hand. This isn’t exactly how you expected to get to know the town of Hawkins, but this group that’s seemingly been through hell together trusted you. At least, Dustin did. That assurance felt heavy in your stomach, but not suffocating. It provided some sense of warmth. To be fair, you really weren’t sure what you offered to the group, but walking away now wasn’t an option.
There was a softness to the Wheeler household you didn’t expect. Since moving to town, this was the first time you’d been in someone’s house that wasn’t your own. Nancy had led the group barreling through the front door like this was a common occurrence. You had gotten a thirty-second introduction to Mrs.Wheeler, under the guise of being a new friend of Nancy's.
“Oh! You’re the girl from the new bakery downtown. Those blondies really are to die for. They’ve set me off my diet more than once already.” Mrs. Wheeler smiled at you. “Welcome to Hawkins, dear. Make yourself at home. And please, feel free to use the kitchen if you’d like.”
The way Mrs. Wheeler made sure to kiss Nancy on the forehead before everyone tumbled into the basement gave you an idea of how this household was run. Everything was tidy, but lived in. Dustin, Max, and Lucas moved around the space like it was their home too. You sat yourself on the floor, leaning against the side of the couch, eyes lingering on the back of Max as she furiously wrote down something.
Nancy and Robin had gone off to do more digging on the Creel murders, which were appearing to be more involved than anyone expected. You shifted in your spot, switching from sitting on your knees to criss-cross because you were losing feeling in your feet. Everyone on the couch was equally focused on Max, though you did catch Steve’s eyes every now and again. Resting your head against the arm of the couch, you let your eyelids slide shut, relishing in the moment of stillness.
You could see Steve’s leg jittering as he stared into the cemetery, waiting for Max. Dustin was hanging off the backseat door behind you, while Lucas was perched on the hood of the car. Max looked tiny in the distance, shrouded in shadows, and sat up on the hill. Your hand twitched with the desire to reach over and put it on Steve’s knee that was bouncing. Instead, you clasped your hands together. Looking out his window to watch Max gave you a perfect view of the back of Steve’s head. His tension was obvious in the way that his eyebrows were stitched together and his jaw was clenched.
“Alright, it’s been long enough.” Steve scrambled out of the car and headed up towards Max, despite the protests from Lucas and Dustin.
Goosebumps traveled across your body as Steve’s panicked calls alerted you that something was very wrong. Lucas and Dustin went running, while you stayed frozen in the passenger's seat for a moment. Jerking your gaze around the interior of the car, you landed on a water bottle in the cup holder. You grabbed it and your purse at your feet before chasing after the group.
Dustin passed you on your way up, grabbing the radio and screaming for Nancy and Robin. When you reached everyone else, you stayed a few feet back, gripping the water bottle so hard it crinkled, purse slung over your shoulder. Her eyes were rolled back into her head, and she was completely unresponsive to Lucas and Steve yelling at her to come back.
There was a terror in their voices you’ve never heard from another human before. Not outside the movies. It’s like everything around you was happening at super speed and slow-motion all at once. Dustin came back with headphones, a Walkman, and cassettes. Something about her favorite song?
They figured it out, apparently, because the headphones were on her ears. But now, she’s levitating. You stumbled back when the guys did, stepping back until your calves hit a headstone. They’re screaming, but you can’t find your voice.
What the actual fuck.
You braced the water bottle close to your chest, like it would protect you from whatever you're witnessing. Suddenly, Max dropped, and Lucas was holding her, and everyone was gasping for air. Their hands were on each other, and you can feel the cold from the water seeping into your fingertips.
You quietly came forward, making eye contact with Max so you didn’t surprise her. You knelt down and dug around in your purse for a handkerchief. With shaking hands, you uncapped the water and poured some on the fabric, before handing it to Max so she could wipe her face and try to calm down. She did, swiping it across her forehead and eyes, and then giving it back to you. You traded it with her for the bottle of water.
“Drink slowly,” you said, voice gentle.
You sat back on your heels. One, two, three, four. You counted your breaths until your heart rate felt a little more normal. Looking up from the ground, you found Steve’s eyes on you. There’s a softness in his gaze that was peaking through the concern for Max. You held them for a moment, grounding yourself in the fact that he’s there and Max was okay.
Nancy dragged everyone back to her place, and no one batted an eye when she declared they’d all be crashing there for the night. Everyone was spread across the Wheelers’ basement. Steve was scrunched up in an armchair, Robin used the coffee table as a pillow, and Dustin leaned up against the TV, already drifting off. He had just started his shift as “Max Watch” not too long ago. Everyone else was asleep, including Max, twisted up on the couch with Lucas on the floor right next to her.
You had stolen a throw pillow from the couch and were lying on the floor, listening to the wall clock tick and staring at the ceiling. Sleep had not come for you. You pushed yourself into a sitting position, looking around at everyone in the room. You’d been able to call your mom in the evening and tell her that your friend was like, sick sick, and that you were taking them to the doctor and staying because their family was out of town. She believed you and said that Calvin would cover your shifts. (He’d get you back for that later.)
You could feel the exhaustion in your eyes and bones, but your mind would not settle enough for you to get some rest. Finally, you stood up, cringing when the floor beneath you squeaked. As quietly as possible, you made your way upstairs, making sure to poke Dustin in the head so he’d return to Max-Watch. You heard him grumble something as you reached the top of the stairs.
The Wheelers’ kitchen was lit only by the moonlight outside and the glow of a digital clock display on the stove. Luckily, their kitchen lights had a dimmer, so you turned them on just enough for you to see better. Your hands were itching to do something, anything to get you out of your own mind. Rifling through the cupboards, you found just enough of the right ingredients to make brownies. And so, you got to work.
The timer on the microwave counted down as you melted the butter, making sure you opened the door before the alarm went off. You hadn’t used vegetable oil or boxed mix since you were at a friend's sleepover in sixth grade. When you had the time, like tonight, you’d put the melted butter into a pan on the stove until it browned. As you mixed together the wet ingredients, the sound of the spatula scraping the bowl was something to hold on to, instead of getting swept away in the memory of Max hanging twenty feet above you.
People didn’t just levitate. Hearing the escapades of everyone’s time with the Upside Down was one thing; witnessing it, even just a little, was another.
You measured out the flour and cocoa powder three times until it was exactly right, and sifted it twice to ensure no lumps. Brewing a cup of coffee to add always ensured the chocolate flavor was more intense, but just enough so it didn’t mess with the texture. The spatula was cold against your lips as you tasted the batter.
More salt. More vanilla.
Just as you were finished mixing them in, you heard gentle footsteps coming up the stairs and into the kitchen. Your attention doesn’t leave the batter, but you could sense someone was standing behind you. Glancing over your shoulder, you found Steve, craning his head to get a better look into the bowl. You moved over so he could see properly.
His tired eyes brightened when he saw what it was, expression morphing into that of a hopeful four-year-old. You sighed, dug out a spoon from the drawer, and dipped it into the bowl before handing it to him. The grin you got in return soothed any lingering anxiety you had from the day.
Steve watched you intently, slowly licking the spoon, as you poured the batter into a greased pan and slipped it into the pre-heated oven. After sucking the spoon clean, he met your eyes. “That’s the best brownie batter I’ve ever had.”
“It’s just some browned butter, extra salt, and vanilla, plus a little coffee,” you said with a shrug. Taking the bowl off the counter, you held it against you as you used the spatula to begin to scrape it clean. After a moment, you looked up at Steve, staring at you with a slightly betrayed expression. Your giggle sounded loud in the quiet of the kitchen, but nevertheless, you motioned for him to join you.
Leaning against the counter, his shoulder pressed against yours, you tilted the bowl to him so he could reach. You cleaned some batter from the edge of your spatula. “How’s Max doing? Is Dustin still on watch?”
“Nah,” Steve shook his head. “It’s Lucas’s turn. And she’s doin’ the same, I think. I came up here for some water, actually, but found something much better.”
You hummed, shifting so the edge of the counter wasn’t digging into your back so much. From the corner of your eye, you watched him use the spoon to scrape along the bottom of the bowl. “You and Nancy, huh?”
The spoon stopped halfway to his mouth. He turned his head to look at you fully. “Old news. Henderson was just being a little shit.” Steve paused. “I dunno, I guess, she really pushed me to be a better version of myself. She’s a good friend. Guess I got a little overprotective.”
“I think it’s sweet. Does she know that?”
“Know what?”
“That you are how you are now, because of her.”
“I dunno.” His tongue darted out to swipe against the back of the spoon. “Anyways, Nance isn’t even the girl I’ve had my eye on these days.”
Letting the spatula rest inside the bowl, you cocked your head to meet his gaze. There was a smudge of brownie batter at the corner of his mouth. You didn’t even register what you were doing until your thumb was on his face, wiping it away. His stare intensified as you brought your thumb to your lips, licking it clean. In the dim light of the kitchen, the gold flecks of his hazel eyes stood out.
You were the one to break the moment, looking to the ground, before reaching for the spatula again.
Okay, you hated this. This… this was awful. The Creel house was dark, dusty, and dingy. As soon as you walked through the door, your shoulders scrunched up towards your ears. Hanging from one of them was a larger canvas tote with a zipper top, covered in embroidered flowers. Steve had dropped you off at home for a few minutes that morning after you complained of needing a shower. In the hour before he circled back, you scrambled for a bigger bag, packing it with another water bottle, a few granola bars, and a first aid kit.
Nancy split off with Robin upstairs, while Lucas and Max took the ground floor. Steve bumped his shoulder with yours, a grin playing on his lips, until he saw Dustin smiling up at him. You were fine being grouped with the two of them, but Steve sighed as he trudged up the stairs.
“Was that a sigh?” Dustin sounded indignant.
“No, just, c’mon.”
“You totally sighed!”
“Dustin.”
“Oh, am I intruding on quality time with your--”
“Dude!”
You weren’t entirely sure what you were supposed to be looking for. The groups only lasted so long until everyone was covering their own corners of the upper floor. You were poking around one of the bedrooms, doing your best not to touch anything because, ew.
There were picture frames on the dresser, so dusty you could hardly make out what was in them, but it looked like photos of the Creel family. They were smiling. A hand on your shoulder made you jump.
“Sorry, sorry! It’s just me.”
You spun around to see Steve taking a step back, both of his hands up in surrender. Letting out a deep breath, you shook yourself off. “Don’t do that in a place like this.”
“Yeah, sorry. Again.”
It was quiet for a beat, as you both just stood there. Steve nodded to the pictures. “Find anything?”
“Nothing important. Just family photos before everything went to hell.” You paused. “They looked happy back then.” Steve was glancing over your shoulder at the photos. “Hey, are you doing okay?”
His eyes snapped back to you. “Huh?”
“Your friend’s being targeted by a supernatural serial killer. I just wanted to see how you’re holding up.”
“I,” Steve started, a bit surprised you asked. “Things could definitely be better, but I think we’ve got this.” He ran his hand through his hair. “At this moment, I’m alright. Thanks for asking.”
“Anytime.” Your voice was quiet enough that only he could hear.
He narrowed his eyes and looked down for a second before bringing them back up to you. “Ya know, the obvious things are not what people observe. Or… don’t observe. Or--”
“Are you trying to quote Sherlock Holmes to me?”
He huffed out a laugh. “Yeah.”
You rolled your eyes, bumping his shoulder with yours as you walked away. “C’mon.”
Why was Eddie in the woods? Specifically, a part with no trail and covered in flying little bugs that had recently hatched in the spring warmth. You were towards the back of the group, really wishing you’d worn a thicker jacket, because the twigs and branches were still poking you at every turn. A hand flew up to bend a budding tree branch back so you didn’t get wacked in the face. Seeing Robin now in front of you, you smiled at her in thanks.
At some point, she had left Nancy’s side to drop back to where you were.
“Ya know,” Robin said. “Despite the circumstances, it’s been really cool to meet you and get to know you better. Getting thrown into the Upside Down shit is certainly a way to get inducted into the group.”
You tilted your head to the side, narrowly missing another branch poking your shoulder. “I’m part of the group?”
“Well, yeah!” Robin acted like this was obvious. “It was kind of inevitable anyway, especially with how much Steve talks about you.”
“He talks about me?” You stopped walking.
Robin halted a few feet in front of you, turning around. “All the time.” She scrunched up her nose. “Don’t tell him I told you that.”
Picking up the pace again, you and Robin rejoined the majority of the group. He talked about you. A bubbling giddiness took root in your chest at the idea, and you couldn’t keep yourself from smiling.
“Steve!” Nancy’s voice echoed out across the water as he was suddenly dragged beneath the surface. Everyone jerked towards the edge to see where he had gone, rocking the small boat. It was already pushing it, piling five people in, and everyone moving at once made you nauseous.
But, not more nauseous than the sight of Steve getting ripped down into the inky depths of Lover’s Lake. Everyone was screaming and yelling, confused and scared. Your mind went blank for a second before you dove in after him. The water muffled the yells from above, getting quieter as you swam down.
It was pitch black, except for a faint, eerie red glow at the bottom. You figured that was the gate, and so that’s what you swam towards. There was no sight of Steve, so that was your only real choice. You reached the crack, grabbing onto something long and slimy, and then the hard rock surrounding the opening. Pulling yourself forward, you were surprised to find yourself pushing yourself upwards and through a membranous material into fresh air. Okay, fresh air may not be the right word. Air.
Gasping, you clawed your way up and threw yourself to the side, pushing up and spinning around, looking for Steve. It didn’t take long for you to hear screams in the near distance. A cough made you look behind, only to see Nancy climbing through the gate, followed quickly by Robin. You figured Eddie wasn’t far behind, but you were already racing towards the sounds of Steve.
In the flashes of red lightning, you found him on the ground, being choked by the tail of some flying creature. You fell to your knees beside him so hard it stung, using all your strength to pull the tail away from his neck. The others were right behind you, armed with oars and flashlights that ended up being much more useful than bare hands.
Steve was able to bite the tail, making the monster loosen its grip, so you could throw it off of him. You scrambled back on your hands and feet, giving him space to stand up and defend himself. There was a high-pitched squeal above you, and as you looked up, the face of one of these creatures was barreling towards you. Before it could reach you, though, Eddie whacked it away with his ore, standing over you in case it came back.
He helped you to your feet, giving you the other half of the splintered ore for defense. Standing back to back, you help whack away what you could only call demon bats, at this point. Finally, the attack settled down. And Steve was bleeding. And it was cloudy and dark. And there was red lightning. And Robin was now concerned about rabies, apparently. And demon bats were guarding your only way out of this hellhole. As the squeals of a larger hoard of them drew closer, Nancy said, “The woods! Come on.”
Your eyes didn’t leave the bats flying towards you until Steve grabbed your hand and started pulling you towards the forest of dead trees. This must be the Upside Down.
The group found shelter under Scull Rock. You were crouched behind Steve as everyone watched the evil, horrifying bats fly overhead. Steve’s breaths were labored in a way that didn’t sound like it was from exertion. When it calmed down for a moment, you slid yourself in front of him, putting your hand on his bare shoulder.
“You’re hurt.”
“I’m fine.”
“Don’t be silly, stay still.” You slid the cross-body strap of your bag over your head. It was still soaked from the lake, but you were lucky your parents put your brother into Boy Scouts, because you made sure the first aid kit was wrapped in a plastic bag for protection. Unwrapping it, relief flooded your body to find it relatively unharmed.
Steve watched as you gathered the items you needed. “Smart idea, bringing that.”
“After Max floated into the trees, I figured it would be good to have something like this on standby.”
He hissed as you poured some of the bottled water onto his wounds. “You’ve done this before?”
“I had a class that covered first aid my freshman year of high school. We’ll see how much I remember.”
His torso was tense as you cleaned and disinfected the area the best you could, before packing it with gauze and wrapping it with bandages. His muscles flexed in discomfort every time you touched the wounded area, but he tried to keep his expression neutral. Part of your brain registered that he was shirtless at the moment. (Not exactly how you pictured that happening.) But most of your thoughts were circling the fact that he almost died.
Technically, you all did. But, Steve the most. A quiet panic about the situation had settled over your nerves, but you focused on the fact that he was alive and in front of you. For now, that was enough.
You were sick and tired of the woods. Whether that was the bright, green forest of normal Hawkins or the creepy, dead version in the Upside Down. When this was all over, all you wanted was to be in the kitchen at Heaven’s Scent or curled up in your own bed. You were trudging along in the middle of the group. Robin and Nancy leading the pack, with Steve and Eddie somewhere behind you.
You were close enough to those two to pick up bits and pieces of their conversation. Something about Ozzy Osburn and Dustin. You were too focused on trying not to trip on vines or roots to really care. But then you heard your name. You slowed your steps.
“She just dove right in.” That was Eddie’s voice.
“Now, I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but if I were you, I would lock that down. ‘Cause that was as unambiguous a sign of true love as these cynical eyes have ever seen.”
Nancy deserved some cookies. You were going to bake her some cookies. That was what you had decided was the best course of action after learning about the potential end of the world from Nancy’s Vecna-vision. And now, you were joining everyone on this mission to kill the bastard.
You were tucked into one of the seats in the back of the RV that Eddie had hot wired. Your vision had gone a little fuzzy as you stared at nothing in particular. What the fuck?
What. The. Fuck.
You could leave at any point. Go home and back to the bakery. Tell your parents your sick friend got better. And hope that everyone in this vehicle would be alive the next time you saw them.
But you couldn’t. Not really. When the Upside Down first started bleeding into Hawkins, they told you about how they handled it when most of these kids were twelve. You swallowed, throat dry. You were staying. Pressing the heels of your palms to your eyes, you rubbed them in an attempt to come back to the present moment. Glancing around the back of the RV, it made your heart clench with the amount of shit they had all been through from such a young age. You wouldn’t even consider yourself old. But twelve.
Your eyes landed on Nancy and Steve at the front of the RV. She turned around about the same time, surveying everyone like she was doing a head count. When she got to you, her eyes darted from you to Steve and back again. Nancy slid out of her seat and moved to the back, coming to stand in front of you. She nodded towards the front. “Time for your shift.”
You smiled, making your way to the passenger's seat. Steve’s eyes brightened when he saw you join him. “Hey!”
“Hi.” The introductory notes of Toto’s “Hold the Line” sprinkled through the speakers, just loud enough you could make out the words. Unwittingly, your chin started to bob to the music. “A few months ago, if you told me this is what having the Hendersons over for dinner would lead to, I would’ve thought you were crazy.”
Steve breathed out a laugh. “Yeah, those kids have a way of shaking up your life.” He shot you a quick glance. “Ya know, I was just telling Nance that carting them around’s been great practice for having a big family.”
“You want a big one?”
“Oh, definitely.” He nodded.
You hummed thoughtfully. “I can see that. And this isn’t me telling you not to build that in the future, but, by the looks of it, you kinda have a big family now.”
Steve was quiet for a moment, face scrunched up a little. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
You leaned your head against the back of the seat, watching the trees blur past as he drove. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet. “You’re outta high school like me. Why’d you move to Hawkins if you didn’t have to? Most people want to get out, not in.”
“My family. I can pick up baking in any city, but my parents and brother are here. It’s not like I don’t miss my hometown, my friends. That’s where I grew up, but it just felt wrong to stay.”
“Well, I think you’ve done a pretty good job of finding friends here. Too bad it’s come with a side of Lovecraftian horror.”
He wasn’t wrong, but surprisingly, you didn’t fully mind that trade-off. You snorted. “You know who Lovecraft is?”
“I’ve spent too much time with Henderson.”
Pale grey clouds covered the sky, moving steadily along with the wind. Every now and then, there would be a break and a glimpse of blue or a ray of sunlight. Everyone was spread out across a secluded meadow, prepping for the showdown with Vecna. In the parking lot of the War Zone, you had offered to stick with Dustin and Eddie as distractions with the bats. Or demobats, as Dustin had corrected you.
Steve had shot that down quickly, with something about the more numbers we had against Venca, the better. You were sitting a few yards left of the RV by yourself, supplies from your bag spread out in front of you as you reorganized everything. Laughter from Eddie and Dustin reached across the empty grass field, and you couldn’t help but watch them find a moment of reprieve under the dire circumstances. Lucas was with his sister, Max was next to Nancy, and somewhere by the RV were Robin and Steve.
You went back to packing your bag, making sure you had double of any first aid supplies you had picked up at the War Zone. Gauze? Check. Alcohol wipes? Check. Cotton pads? Dead. Dead?
You might die. Everyone very well could die at the end of this.
Shaking your head, you tried to focus on the checklist again. Cotton pads? Check. Water bottles? Check. Skin glue? Ripped apart by demobats.
You squeezed your eyes tight. Taking one breath, then two, you opened them to look back at the supplies on the ground. But you couldn’t bring yourself to move. Vision going a little blurry, the only things to register were your own breathing and the rustling of the leaves as the wind pushed through them. You weren’t sure how long you stared at nothing in particular until movement in your field of vision brought everything back into focus.
It was Steve, quietly saying your name. “Are you okay?”
You nodded. He didn’t look convinced.
“Are you okay?”
After letting your chest rise and fall with another few breaths, he placed his hands on your knees. The warmth from his palms seeping through your pants and into your skin reminded you that right now, everyone was okay, and Steve was in front of you. “You got hurt. Bad. What we’re about to do… you could get hurt again. Dustin could get hurt. Or Robin. They could die. I could die.”
Steve sighed, nodding sagely. He shifted so he was sitting criss-cross, mirroring your position. Hands never leaving your knees, he pulled himself close enough that your legs were touching. “Yeah. Yeah. But, if Nance’s visions are right and this Vecna creep succeeds, we’re all toast.” He pursed his lips. “You don’t have to come. Honestly, from the start, I wanted to send you home. Keep you safe. But Dustin and Nance and Rob said that the extra help is good. And ‘s not like you're not capable; you are. Plus, I kinda figured that if you saw Munson helping but not you, it wouldn’t go over well. So, I dropped it. But, if you want out, I’ll back you up.”
For a brief second, you considered it. But in the end: “No, I’m coming. I’m sure.”
He nodded. “Okay.”
You looked down at his hands still on your knees. “You really care that much about me staying safe?”
“Of course.” His reply was instant, tone leaving no room for discussion.
Despite everything, a ghost of a smile crossed your lips. “Yeah, same to you.”
Trudging through the barren forest of the Upside Down was no more pleasant the second time around. Steve and Nancy had fallen a few paces behind you and Robin, far enough that you could hear the murmurs of quiet conversation but couldn’t pick up any words.
You shot out a hand as Robin stumbled a bit, helping to steady her from faceplanting onto the vines (which were apparently part of a hivemind?!).
“Thanks,” Robin said, taking a deep breath.
Silence rested between you and her for a moment as you walked. “Hey, can I ask you something?”
“Anything.” She sounded genuine.
“Steve and Nancy. Is that? Are they?”
“Over-over?”
“Yeah.”
“I’d bet my life savings on the fact that they are. Which, to be fair, isn’t much. But--”
You laughed. “I get what you mean.”
“So.” Robin leaned forward, trying to catch your eye. “You like Steve?”
“Let’s just say, he’s definitely caught my attention.”
Personally, you’d classify the vines more as tentacles. They were wet and cold as they pinned your limbs to the walls of the Creel house and slowly wrapped around your neck. You could make out the edge of Steve’s feet on the wall across from you, but your vision was getting hazy.
The pressure was building slowly, like an anaconda squeezing the life out of its prey with terrifying precision. You’d never seen your family again. Or taste your mom’s chocolate cake. Or feel the sun on your cheeks. Or experience the high of perfecting a new recipe.
Your lungs were begging for air at this point, your brain going tingly. This might be it.
Until it wasn’t.
And then, you were on the ground. Gasping and hacking as you tried to get oxygen back into your body. Steve’s hand was in front of you, grabbing yours to help you up. His eyes scanned you up and down before he nodded decisively. You were okay. So was he.
Robin was right. A miracle indeed.
The heat from the lighter was nearly painful as Robin lit the Molotov cocktail you were holding. You chucked it at an already burning Venca seconds before Nancy took her first shot. The smell of alcohol, charred flesh, and smoldering wood enveloped the room.
You weren’t sure what you expected Vecna to look like, but it wasn’t this. Max described him the best she could, but this. This was worse. Every shot that Nancy hit flooded you with satisfaction, until finally, he fell through the wall of the house.
The four clock chimes were you swear you’d hear in your nightmares until the day you died. As the ground shook, one of Steve’s arms was pinning you to the staircase while he clung to the bannister. Seemingly, as soon as it had begun, it was over.
In the immediate aftermath, Nancy took Robin to scout around the outside of the Creel house, making sure that Vecna hadn’t just scurried a few feet away to die. You and Steve stayed on the porch, keeping an eye on the glowing red rift that had split the building in two.
“It almost looks alive.”
“It might be,” Steve agreed. “Don’t get too close.”
You took a step back, bumping into his shoulder. He didn’t step away; if anything, he pressed himself a little closer. “Hey, that night, with the brownie batter. You said somethin’ along the lines of whether or not Nance knew how she helped me. Ya, know, grow up.”
“I remember.”
“Well, earlier tonight, on the way here, I told her. I thanked her. Let her know that I’m glad she’s happy with Jonathan and her dumping me was kinda the best thing that could’ve happened.”
You giggled. “Why’s that?”
“‘Cause it made me get ready for when the right thing came along.”
The stuffy smell of the Hawkins High cafeteria tended to linger on your skin and clothes long after you left. In the month since the fight with Vecna, you’d found yourself either in the bakery, the cafeteria, or, sometimes, the Wheelers’ basement. Handing out muffins to the displaced townsfolk may not be the most important service the volunteers were providing, but you always run out of whatever baked goods you brought that day. It made some people smile, and that was enough for you.
Each time, you’d bake an extra batch to set aside for the volunteers as well. Robin designated herself as the keeper of the sweets, basically stopping Mike and Lucas from eating them all. The military’s presence in Hawkins after the “earthquake” had forced everyone into a new normal where anyone who came in and out of the town’s borders was tracked. Thankfully, grocery supply runs had been consistent, keeping your baking basics well stocked. You weren’t sure what you’d do if you couldn’t keep your hands busy.
With each cracked egg and scoop of flour, your mind was kept at bay for a moment so you didn’t get swept into the memories of that week. However, as much as you’d like it to, it didn’t take away from the fact that Eddie was dead.
Eddie was dead, and most of the town was fucking happy about it. Or, at least, didn’t care. And Max was in the hospital with a broken body and stuck in a coma-type thing. But, at least she was breathing.
You admitted to your family that the “sick friend” you had been helping was Dustin, who was trying to help Eddie. You played coy on whether or not you thought he did it, framing your involvement under a protective guise for Dustin. Calvin was particularly unhappy about you getting wrapped up in something so potentially dangerous, but at least you were safe.
The late afternoon sun started to peak through the overcast clouds that had covered Hawkins for the past few weeks. Your table was over halfway empty, but you knew the leftovers would be scooped up by lingering volunteers at the end of the day. Across the cafeteria, Steve was helping Robin sort through donations, trying to act like he didn’t look your way every five minutes.
Like you, Steve had been everywhere. Helping out when needed, supporting his friends as much as possible. He intentionally didn’t commit himself to one job, instead being the guy who filled in the gaps. A lot of those gaps happened to be where you were.
The first full day after Vecna, you didn’t leave your bed at all. Playing sick, you slept, stared at the ceiling, and took the longest shower of your life. Steve called around dinnertime, checking in. Calvin had answered, giving you a knowing look when he handed you the phone. But, after that, you couldn’t keep still.
Your mom loved how invested you were in getting involved, welcoming you to join her at Heaven’s Scent early in the morning so you could bake what you would give out that day. In turn, she stayed later and ran the afternoon shifts with Molly so you could head to the displacement center. Up at 4 am, at the cafeteria by 10 am, home around dinnertime or later.
Honestly, you couldn’t recall telling Steve your schedule. You didn’t even really plan it, you just started doing. But by the time the first week had wrapped up, Steve was at the bakery at 9:15 am on the dot to help you pack up and transport the food. By the end of week two, you were driving with your mom to the bakery in the morning, and Steve hauled you around from there.
“I have a car,” you protested.
“And gas prices have skyrocketed since the military rolled in. I’m saving you money.” Steve didn’t leave any room for argument.
It was like he was always there, but from a careful distance. Across from your baked goods table, making small talk. In the driver’s seat, letting you pick the music. When you were tucked into the corner of the couch in the Wheelers’ basement, he was on the floor next to your feet. You felt there was an intention not to overwhelm you, not to hover.
You appreciated it. (But, part of you wanted him to.)
Shaking your head, you snapped out of your thoughts and took a deep breath. The cafeteria was sprinkled with volunteers, some usual, some newer. It was always emptier after the lunch rush. You let your eyes rest on Steve, whose back was to you at the moment. He’d stripped off his jacket, only to be left in an old t-shirt that let you see his back muscles stretch through each time he lifted a box. After a moment, he spun around, gazing across the room like he was looking for someone, until he stopped on you.
You smiled, lifting your hand in a half wave. He smiled back, nodding at you with his hands on his hips. Even from across the room, the dark circles under his eyes were apparent. They showed up two days after Eddie died and haven’t gone away since. You know Dustin had been struggling; he’d pretty much gone dark. He’d show up to things, but would hardly talk, only going through the motions. Your guess was that Dustin’s grief was weighing heavily on Steve.
It’s not like you’ve talked about it. No one’s talked much about anything. At least once a week, a meeting would be held at Hopper’s cabin, which was where you became acquainted with the Chief himself, Joyce, Jonathan, Will, and Eleven. Seeing them all together, comparing notes, and figuring out the next steps filled you with a sense of admiration. Admittedly, you still felt out of place among them, but you always brought food and tried to pay attention.
Nancy and Mike hosted less formal movie nights, which you assumed were an attempt to keep morale high. But, it was always discussions of what was next or distractions from what was, and never a conversation about what happened.
An older lady came up to your table, breaking your attention away from Steve. She gave you a subdued smile. “Could I bring three muffins back for my grandchildren? They lost their father in the earthquake.”
“Of course.” You nodded, packing up a box of four.
It wasn’t as if you weren’t also trying to outrun the reality of what had occurred. But maybe if someone else breached the subject, you’d talk about it. No one did. And you didn’t want to be the one to shatter the illusion of control everyone was clinging to. There was like this unspoken rule that no one would talk about how bad things really were, because if they did, it would make it that much more real.
Your eyes flew open, breath heavy, and throat tight. The fear sparking against your nerves dissipates more quickly these days. Often, you’d wake with the feeling of Vecna’s vines still wrapped around your throat. It’s the anticipation of the nightmares that kept you awake more than anything. You never felt more rested when you woke up, so what was the point in trying to fall back asleep.
Besides, sleep held images of you choking death, or Steve choking death, or finding out that Eddie died. Sometimes, when the really vivid ones hit, Eddie was replaced with Steve or Dustin, and you wake up not knowing what was real for a few heartbeats.
You flipped over on your bed, eyes adjusting to the dark. An old Madonna poster was perfectly in your field of vision, and you stared at her for a while, like she held the answers to all your questions. But, she just stared unblinkingly back at you, blonde hair still obnoxiously vibrant in the darkness.
You relented to the fact that you were up at 3:23 am, according to the clock on your nightstand, and slipped out from under your covers. You’ve mastered the ability to walk downstairs nearly silently. And even better at navigating the kitchen with as little noise as possible. Tonight you were making ginger molasses cookies. When your family saw them in the morning, you would just say you stayed up late. And with everything else going on, you know they would believe you.
“I want a pool,” you mumbled from the floaty you were lying on in the water, one arm thrown over your eyes.
Steve was somewhere to your right, hanging on to the edge. “No, you don’t.”
“Hmm, yeah, I do.”
“No, you don’t. They’re a bitch to take care of. What you want is to know someone who has a pool, so you can mooch off the benefits without having to do the work.”
“I know you.”
You felt him flick some water at your bare legs. “Exactly, which is why you don’t need to want a pool.”
The sun was at its peak, shining down onto the Harrington backyard. It was just hot enough to warrant being in the water, but not too much so the warm air still felt good. In the shallow end, Mike, Will, and Robin were sitting on the steps, splashing each other hard enough to reach Nancy, lounging on a chair. El was next to her, under an umbrella, and sound asleep. A while earlier, Jonathan and Dustin had headed indoors, tired of the heat. Lucas was at the hospital with Max, but said he’d be by later for the movie.
Steve’s idea of a pool day at his place had earned a chorus of yeses when he offered. The house was empty, as his parents had been traveling for business when the lockdown happened. All Steve had gotten was a phone call saying they would cover the bills, send him some extra money now and then, and stay in touch while they lived in their summer house on Lake Michigan. He hadn’t heard much from them since, but the electricity was still on, so they kept their word on that.
You felt yourself moving along the surface of the water. Opening your eyes, Steve was dragging you deeper into the pool, as the splashfest between Will and Robin grew more rowdy. The water was up to his neck as he lingered by your head. You shifted your neck so you could look at him properly. His hair was damp from doing a cannonball earlier, and it was partially pushed back from the sunglasses on his head. The tops of his shoulders were turning a little pink, but he didn’t seem to care. Despite the brightness of the sun, he caught your eye.
You laughed. “Thanks for getting me out of the danger zone.”
“Always.”
The clock had barely passed 11 pm, but nearly everyone had crashed not long after the movie credits rolled. Sun and water were always a lethal combo for draining energy, but in the best way. Everyone was sprawled out in Steve’s finished basement. He’d made sure you had one of the two loveseats all to yourself. Nancy and Jonathan shared an air mattress, Robin got the recliner, El got the other loveseat, and Lucas claimed the entire couch. Mike, Dustin, and Will made some sort of nest out of pillows and blankets that they had spread across on the floor. Steve had grabbed the pool floaty you were using earlier as a mattress and made do with just a blanket.
You were lying on your side on the loveseat, so you were facing towards the room. Even in the fuzzy darkness, you could make out Steve’s form. His eyes were closed, and he was on his back, so you could watch his chest rise and fall. Based on the rhythm, you didn’t think he was really asleep. You drifted off, never taking your eyes off him.
You couldn’t breathe. That was the first thing you noticed. You couldn’t move with the vines restraining you. The clock kept chiming, over and over. Like it was counting down to an ending that wasn’t here yet.
Steve was pinned to the wall in front of you, struggling, screaming. His eyes locked on yours like he was trying to get to you. You were trying to fight against the vines, but they wouldn’t budge. It kept going on like this, seemingly for hours, until you watched Steve’s head drop, the oxygen loss getting to him. You couldn’t tell if your throat hurt from being choked or the tears building behind your eyes.
Breaths coming quick and deep, consciousness overtook your mind. You were on your back, one foot hanging off the loveseat. The adrenaline from the nightmare was still rushing through your body. You were at Steve’s. He was still alive. So were you.
Breathing in one, two, three, four, and out one, two, three, you convinced yourself to relax the tension in your shoulders and hands. After a few minutes of trying to keep your breathing quiet, you knew you wouldn’t be falling back to sleep anytime soon. You hopped across the landmines of sleeping teenagers to reach the stairs, venturing up and into the kitchen.
You had to admit, the Harrington kitchen was glorious. Shiny white marble countertops with enough space for three people to work comfortably, plus an island. You took note of the stand mixer stored on top of the fridge, but decided that hand mixing would be quieter. After poking around in the cupboard, you found he had what you needed to make chocolate chip cookies. You took the extra time to melt and brown the butter.
While waiting, you stood by the sink so you could look out the window into the backyard. It overlooked the pool, which you would see glistening in the moonlight. Part of you was tempted to get back in. By the time the butter was ready, the clock on the stove read 2:34 am. You could feel it in your arm after creaming together the butter, granulated sugar, and brown sugar for nearly ten minutes. Folding in the dry ingredients and chocolate chips took much less time, and you felt significantly calmer as you were placing the dough in the fridge to chill.
Wandering to the door to the backyard, you remembered seeing a hammock sitting beneath the large maple trees that sat along the fence line. You slid it open and crept out, letting the humid summer air fall over you like a blanket. The pavement surrounding the pool made way for plush, cool grass under your bare feet. You spread out on the hammock, lounging back and looking up at the sky. Clouds were sparse, but even in the suburbs, you could make out a few twinkling stars. Eventually, you fell back into a delicate sleep.
You didn’t intend to stay out there too long, but the fresh air felt so nice; sometime later, you were roused by strong arms picking you up bridal style. You blinked blearily at the person above you to find Steve.
“You’re gonna catch a cold out here,” he muttered.
You didn’t think you would, but you were too tired to argue. He placed you on what you think was a bed. Probably his bed, because it smelled like him. That’s the last thing you remembered thinking before sleep overtook you again.
Waking up on your own, not due to the terror of a nightmare, was a pleasant change of pace. Steve’s pillows were annoyingly plush, much more than the ones you had at home. You had half a mind to steal one for yourself, just to see if he would notice. Pushing yourself up, you saw the alarm clock read 7:20 am. You got more sleep than usual, which was nice. What you didn’t expect was to see Steve lying on the floor next to you. At some point, he had dragged up the floaty and blanket from the basement.
His hair had fallen into his face during the night, and you really wanted to lean down and smooth it back, but you didn't. The sun was streaming in through his bedroom windows, making shapes on the carpet surrounding him. Birds chirped merrily outside, and it was the most at peace that you had felt in weeks.
You shifted your position on the mattress, fully sitting up, which seemed to alert Steve. His eyes opened seconds after the sounds of you shuffling, almost as if he hadn’t really been asleep. The floaty squeaked as he also sat up, blanket pooling around his waist. He considered you for a moment before speaking. “Was worried when I got up to use the bathroom and didn’t see you.”
“I’m sorry,” you said. “I didn’t mean to scare you. Or fall asleep out there. I did make chocolate chip cookie dough, if that helps. Think the kids might like that for breakfast?”
“Yeah, probably.” He laughed. “Why were you baking in the middle of the night?”
“Nightmare woke me up. I’m used to it.”
Steve frowned at you, evidently not liking the fact that you were used to it. The circles under his eyes seemed particularly dark today. He followed you downstairs to the kitchen, hand grazing the small of your back as you circled the kitchen island. The only sound was someone’s muffled snoring from the basement.
After preheating the oven, you pulled the chilled cookie dough from the fridge and used a spoon to scoop it out onto two baking sheets. After eating a spoonful yourself, you set aside the last piece of dough for Steve. By the time you were putting the cookies into the oven, he had already made a pot of coffee, downed one cup, and was working on his second.
He slid in next to you, setting a cup of coffee for you down on the counter. You handed him the spoonful of cookie dough, which he took with a smile. After setting the oven timer for eleven minutes, you took a sip of the coffee to find it had just the right amount of cream in it. You’re not sure how he did that. Bringing the mug back to your mouth, you let the steam dance along your upper lip.
The roast had a nutty flavor you savored as the warmth of the drink slid down your throat. You glanced up at Steve standing next to you. “How’s Dustin been holding up?
He sighed. “Bad. I mean, I get it. But it’s just--” He cut himself off.
After a moment, you nudged his shoulder, encouraging him to continue.
“I wanna be there for him, ya know, but he’s, like, shut down. I’m checking in and trying to show up, but I’m met with nothing. I can’t help him in the right way if he doesn’t talk to me. No one’s fucking talking about anything.”
So, you weren’t the only one who noticed that.
“I think you’re doing everything you can at the moment,” you said. “The fact that he knows you’re there for him when he needs, probably helps more than you think. And, if you ever want to talk about everything, I’m around.”
He leaned into you, his shoulder pressing against yours. “Thanks.” He scrunched his nose. “Do you really want cookies for breakfast?”
“Not really.”
While Steve made the both of you scrambled eggs on the stove, the smell of fresh cookies roused everyone else from the basement. Before the cookies were even done cooling, they were being plopped onto plates and passed around the group. You made sure to snag two for you and Steve, setting them aside for later.
It was a peaceful morning with minimal conversation. The group sprinkled out at their own pace; Lucas was the first to leave, heading back to the hospital to see Max. Robin and Dustin were the last two to head out.
Dustin was sitting at the kitchen island, coffee mug loosely dangling from his fingertips as he stared into space. You were grateful he wasn’t fully isolating himself and that he would still show up to things, but conversation was far and few between. Dustin and silence were a coupling you found disconcerting. He was vocal during planning meetings or for anything logistical, but personal, don’t even think about it.
Steve was in the basement, putting away the pillows and blankets. You could hear Robin’s footsteps as she returned from down there, coming to stand next to you. She looked worried, more than usual. “Hey, I’m gonna bike home with Dustin, make sure he gets there okay. Would you, maybe, hang here a little while longer? Check in on Steve. He’s seemed more on edge these past few days.”
“Yeah.” You nodded. “I need to do the dishes from baking anyway.”
Robin smiled at you, squeezing your shoulder in thanks. She and Dustin head out just a few minutes later. From the basement, you heard some muffled swearing, and heading down there, you found Steve fighting to fold up the air mattress.
“Stupid motherfucking idiot thing.” He didn’t even notice you came down.
The sight of Steve half-sitting on the folded-up mattress, trying to shove it into the storage bag, made you smile. Bending down, you grabbed both edges of the bag, helping him fit it over. With a breathy laugh, he slumped back. “Thanks. I swear, if one more thing goes wrong today, I’m gonna scream.” There’s a joking tone in his voice, but you can hear the tension woven underneath.
“Everyone’s cleared out. I’m gonna wash the dishes before I go home.”
Steve shook his head. “You don’t need to do that.”
“Nope.” You were already headed back up the stairs. “I made the mess, I’m gonna clean it up.”
As you began sudsing-up the mixing bowl, Steve busied himself by collecting the cups and plates strewn around by everyone. He made one trip, gently depositing them into the sink. You rinsed the soap out of the bowl when he started back from his second trip, hands full. He hissed when his hip clipped the edge of the kitchen island, causing the dishes to crash onto the tile floor. The sound of breaking glass had you spinning around after shutting off the water.
Steve was just standing there silently, staring at the broken shards on the ground. You watched him for a moment, clocking the fact that he wasn’t moving.
“Steve?” Your voice was gentle.
One of his hands clenched into a fist, and you saw his chest rising and falling more rapidly. Drying your hands, you round the island, being careful to avoid the broken dishes on the ground. Coming up from behind him, you stopped at his side, bending down to try and catch his eye.
“Steve?” He just blinked.
“I’m gonna touch you now, okay?” You barely made out him nodding his head, but he didn’t flinch when you softly pressed your hand to his arm. Leading him out of the kitchen and into the living room, you situated both of you on the couch, angled so you're facing him but close enough that your knees were brushing.
You took his hand and placed it just under your collarbone, near your heart, keeping your hand on top of his. “I’m gonna take a few deep breaths. Try and match them, okay?”
With each breath you took, you watched his chest until you saw his rhythm syncing up with yours. Looking up, your eyes met, his gaze glassy and red and filled to the brim with exhaustion. When was the last time he slept?
Steve flipped over his hand that was resting on your chest, tangling his fingers with yours. His breath hitched once, then twice, before his face crumpled and he fell forward into you. You wrapped your arms around him and tucked his head into your shoulder. His sobs came fast, loud, and heavy. There was pain and exhaustion laced in each one. Steve had tipped past his limit and needed the world to stop for a minute.
Slowly, you leaned your bodies backwards until you were lying flat on the couch, and Steve was nestled on top of you. Your finger carded through his hair in a steady rhythm, scratching at the nape of his neck in a way that you hoped was comforting.
“I’ve got you,” you whispered. “You’re safe here.”
You didn’t tell him that it’s okay because, honestly, nothing was okay right now.
Eventually, his cries subsided to the occasional sniffle, but he made no move to get up. Instead, he buried his nose deeper into your shoulder, clinging to you like you're a life preserver in the middle of an ocean storm.
“I’m so tired.”
“Then sleep.”
And he did.
A few days later, Steve arrived at the bakery at 9:15 sharp, like he had for weeks now. It was just you and him in the back, packing away batches of cheesecake bars for the displacement center. He’d already gone back to the coffee pot for a second refill.
When he took another sip, you asked: “Have you been sleeping much the past few nights?" (You know he hasn’t.)
“Nope.”
You pulled at your upper lip with your teeth before taking an intentional breath. “When we slept together on the couch, did that help?”
“Yes.” His reply was quick, and his eyes were locked on yours.
Which was how you found yourself in Steve’s room, dressed in your pajamas, later that night. It wasn’t hard to sneak out once everyone at home had fallen asleep, and you planned to set an alarm clock to be back before they woke up. Your mom was still driving you to the bakery, so as long as you were home before you were supposed to leave, you should be in the clear.
If not, your backup excuse was that you were at Robin’s because she had a bad night and needed company with everything going on. Though, to be fair, you were an adult. And if this did become a regular thing, it didn’t matter if they knew or not.
This entire situation should probably be more awkward than it actually felt. But you and Steve danced around each other while getting ready for bed with what would look like practiced ease. You curled up on the right side of the bed, waiting for him to come back from the bathroom. His bed smelled like you remember.
The hair tickling the back of your neck started to annoy you, so you sat up to pull it back. You took the hair tie off your wrist and held it between your teeth when Steve walked back into the room. In under two minutes, you pulled your hair into a messy French braid, taking the hair tie from your teeth to wrap it around the ends of the braid. When you were done, you looked up to see Steve standing in front of you, staring at you in awe. Like being able to do that with your hair so quickly was some miraculous feat.
(He was looking at you like you’re something he loved.)
With a smile, you flopped back onto the bed.
When you woke up, you felt the weight of his arm slung over your waist, and his nose was in the crook of your neck. You didn’t move because Steve’s still sound asleep, and you realized you didn’t have a single nightmare.
Well, damn.
Your parents had met your friends, some of them at least. Your mom had gotten acquainted with Steve since he started picking you up from Heaven’s Scent. And your dad ran into him at the bakery before the whole Upside Down stuff happened. Thankfully, they all got along well.
The military lockdown and Vecna’s murders had made everything in town topsy-turvy. So, when two weeks after you started spending your nights at Steve’s, you told them that you were going to move into his house, it went over better than you expected. You waxed poetically about how he was alone since his parents were locked out of town, and it was important to stick together, which wasn’t a lie, but it had them nodding along like it made all the sense in the world. Though they probably expected you’d be sleeping in the guest bedroom.
It wasn’t like you were hiding your living situation from the rest of the group, but you weren’t making a big deal to announce it either. It was what it was, and people would figure it out on their own time.
It only made sense that Robin was first. And it only took her a week.
It was late one evening when she burst through the Harringtons’ front door, throwing it open. “It worked! Hopper’s plan to co-opt WSQK worked! He figured out where Jimmy “Fast Hands” screwed off to after the earthquake, and got me his number. I called him, spun a very heartfelt tale about my passion for radio and the nostalgia of listening to his show every day. It couldn’t have taken more than two minutes for him to give me the all clear to do what I want with the station.”
She rounded the corner into the living room. “That means you’re gonna have to quit Family Video, dingus. I’m gonna need a sound guy.”
Robin looked toward the couch, expecting Steve, but finding you curled up in a pair of his old sweats, drinking a glass of wine from his parents’ stash. You cleared your throat. “Steve’s upstairs taking a shower.”
You watched Robin stare at you with wide eyes and a gaping mouth. She closed it, opened it again, only to close it once more. Finally, she found her voice. “You… and Steve?”
“Well.” You paused, tilting your head. “I, kind of, live here now? With him. And sleep in the same bed. It feels more than friends, but we haven’t exactly had that conversation.”
“Wow. Okay. Why? How?”
Robin came to sit beside you as you explained a brief version of your and Steve’s mutual sleep struggles, and how being next to each other helped relieve those.
“Okay, yeah, this is good. I like this.”
You laughed. “Yeah?”
“Of course! Are you gonna talk with Steve about whatever is going on between you?”
“Part of me wants to, but things are so good and steady right now. I don’t want to mess it up or get it wrong.”
Robin wasn’t looking at you, though; her gaze had shifted to something in the kitchen. You sighed. “There are lemon bars in the kitchen if you want some.”
She was already up and out of her seat before you finished speaking. You heard Steve’s footsteps coming down the stairs, too. Apparently, also heading towards the lemon bars because:
“Those are not for you! And how did you get into my house?”
“I have a key, dingus.”
“I never gave you a key!”
Crossing that line with Steve felt inevitable at this point. Especially considering, by now, it was more like a smudged, partially erased pencil line rather than a solid wall. You didn’t have a desire to rush things or shake up the status quo too much. It would happen when it was supposed to.
It wasn’t like falling off a cliff. Or a growing tension of unspoken desires. It was slowly building a routine. Steve learned the food you liked to have stocked in the kitchen, specifically the ingredients you needed for what you bake, based on your mood. You would pick up the hair products he used when you were already at the store and knew he was getting low.
He drove you places, even though you had a car, and always opened your car door. When you’d walk next to him, his hand would be grazing the small of your back. You knew from Robin and Nancy that a lot of the town thought you were already dating. You’ve gotten a comment here and there yourself, but you never bothered correcting anyone.
Above all, you actually talked about what happened in the Upside Down.
On more than one occasion, you found yourself tucked into bed with Steve, your head on his chest, but neither of you were anywhere near sleeping. Maybe it was a bad day for memories and triggers. Or perhaps something throughout the day reminded you of Eddie. Or Steve dealt with Dustin being particularly difficult.
“When you got dragged under the water, part of me really thought we lost you.” And he would hold you tighter.
“It’s hard to visit Max in the hospital. I keep seeing her just dangling above us. I was supposed to protect her, and I failed.” You would wipe the tears collecting in the corner of his eyes.
“I miss Dustin.”
“He’ll come back to us.”
“I miss Eddie.”
“I’m sorry you lost your friend.”
Eventually, you learned the details of what he went through during the different times the Upside Down reared its ugly head over the years. Hearing about the Russians and how he was kidnapped with Robin made you sick to your stomach. You held him a little closer that night.
Your favorite evolution was when he would walk past you when you were curled up on the couch, pause, lean down, and kiss your head. And on movie nights, he’d started to pull your legs over his lap when you’d lean into his side.
It was one of those nights when, as he was drawing patterns on your knee with his finger, you saw him look at you, fully ignoring what was on screen. You met his eyes, which had a considerate intensity to them, like he was thinking something over as he watched you. After a moment, he closed his eyes and nodded to himself, as if he was coming to some sort of agreement or realization. Then, he turned back to the movie, and his fingers never stopped moving.
You’ve never kissed him, though.
Honestly, at this point, you kinda expected it. The new intimacy that developed was as strong as ever, but it plateaued. Nothing new had happened for weeks. You knew he’d been busy helping Robin, Joyce, and Hopper get the radio station building functional for their base of operations. But did you do something? You were content with what he was giving you, but for a while, it felt like you were headed to something more. Did you read it wrong?
So far that week, he had been involved in two all-nighters. You had hardly slept either time; the bed felt too big and cold by yourself. On days like that, you drove your own car around town. You knew that this evening was going to be another late night. There was extra prep needed as they got ready for Robin’s first broadcast that weekend. When you were finished at the displacement center for the day, you swung by Heaven’s Scent to grab some cream cheese Danishes and coffee. Sure, there was coffee at the radio station, but the bakery’s was better.
You parked next to the Beamer you’d spent more time in the last few months than your own car, and balanced the drink carrier on the roof as you reached for the bag of pastries. Slipping in the main entrance, you found everyone circled in one of the larger sitting areas with a black and white tiled floor. There were a few chairs, a couch, and a coffee table.
Hopper saw you first, and visible relief crossed his face at the sight of food. “Kid, you’re a god-sent.”
“I think heaven-sent might be more accurate.”
Robin snorted, getting up from where she was sitting to rifle through the bag. “Danishes! Yes!”
You looked around, finding Steve not far behind her. He looked surprised you were there, but smiled nonetheless. It was a more reserved smile than what you were used to, you noted. He took the cup of coffee you handed him. “Thanks. You didn’t have to do all this.”
“I know. I wanted to.”
After taking a pastry for yourself, you settled on the couch. Robin sat next to you as Hopper dragged Steve and Joyce off somewhere.
“You hanging around for a while?” She asked, mouth still full of Danish.
You shrugged. “Yeah, thought I might.”
“Perfect! ‘Cause I’m sorting through records and could use some help.”
She dragged you over to a storage room, plopped down on the floor, and slid a box over your way. “We’re gonna make piles based on genre. Then we’ll sort alphabetically.”
You nodded, falling into a comfortable silence as you made the piles. After a few minutes, you found the courage to ask her what’s been on your mind. “I feel like things with Steve have kinda paused. Not like it’s gone backwards, and I enjoy how things are. But, it’s almost like he’s on the verge of pulling back.”
Robin pursed her lips, looking like she was fighting with herself over how honestly she should answer your question. Based on her complete lack of a poker face, you figured you’d hit the nail on the head.
“Did I do something wrong?”
“NO!” Her voice was loud enough it made you both flinch. She smiled sheepishly. “Sorry. But, no. It’s not you. Steve just has some relationship baggage, and he’s being stupid. Honestly, I think you should just talk to him.”
And so, you did.
For months, you had felt like Hawkins had been calling the shots, pulling you along in life. All these things kept happening, and you could accept them and say “okay” or walk away. In theory, there was a choice, but walking away never felt like a choice you could live with. You’d been coping with the idea that you couldn’t remember the last time you’d independently seen something you wanted and went: “Yes, that.”
But that wasn’t entirely true.
Because there was Steve.
You found him cleaning out one of the old offices.
“This won’t work if you don’t talk to me. What’s going on?”
His back was turned, hands busy with something on the dusty desk. You watched the muscles along his shoulder tense before he slumped over. When he turned around, there was hesitation in his face and a hint of fear in his eyes. You respected the fact that he didn’t act like he didn’t know that you would pick up on his change. That he didn’t act like something wasn't going on.
“The fear of saying what I want to you, and then losing you, is bigger than any fear I’ve got about Vecna coming back.”
You tilted your head, taking a few steps closer to him. “Why do you think you could lose me?”
“I dunno.” Steve ran a hand through his hair; his voice was thick as he spoke. “But the last time I said something like what I wanna say, the word bullshit was thrown around.”
You hummed, walking forward so you were nearly toe-to-toe, eyes never leaving his. “There is nothing about you or us that is bullshit. Honestly, a part of me feels that us coming together is inevitable, but that’s only because, somewhere along the line, we started choosing each other. You’ve been choosing me.”
“Since the day I met you.”
“Please don’t stop.”
“I never want to.”
You let a silence linger in the space between you for a heartbeat. “So?”
Steve brought one of his hands up to cradle your cheek. “I’m so in love with you it’s ridiculous.”
“That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day.” You couldn’t have stopped the grin that spread across your face if you wanted to. “I’m in love with you, too.”
The intensity in which Steve’s face lit up almost took you off guard. Any worry that was weighing him down lifted away in an instant, leaving him standing taller and more relaxed. He wrapped his arms around your waist and spun you around. You couldn’t help but laugh as your arms came to rest around his neck. When he put you down, his lips landed on yours, heavy and sweet. You kissed back with your fingers tangling up and into his hair.
And quietly you realized that you would choose Hawkins as your home time and time again.
Fin.