Chapter Text
Steve is kind of anxious about meeting El properly. The last time he met her he was really out of it and God knows what kind of things he was saying.
He’s up and walking as soon as the final bell rings, letting school out of the day, Steve puts his headphones on tucking in his KISS Dynasty album. These were songs that were made to move to and Steve always feels more confident with the music backing him up. Plus it also gives him the perfect excuse to ignore everyone around him.
He heads to his car pulling off his headphones and pausing ‘I was Made for Lovin’ You’ right in the middle. Max is leaning against the side of his car with her arms crossed and staring down at the pavement.
“Hey Max,” Steve says casually, “Where are the nerds?”
Max scoffs and doesn’t make eye contact, “Being nerds, I’m too cool for them.”
Steve scans the parking lot, Billy’s Camaro is nowhere to be seen. “Okay, do you want a ride home then?”
He checks his watch, he’ll probably be a little late for El but he can’t leave Max alone in the cold.
Max pushes herself off the car, grabbing her backpack from her feet looking relieved.
“Well if you’re offering,” She plays off, slipping into the shotgun seat the second it's unlocked.
She is still wearing the jacket he gave her, the sleeves pulled over her hands like makeshift mittens.
He doesn’t acknowledge it, it’s not like he needs the jacket back. He had found another completely unused one at the back of one of the closets in his house, although it is brighter than what he usually wears, teal coloured with yellow blocking. But at least Max isn’t going to get frostbite now. Instead he just pulls out of the carpark while Max rifles through his cassettes.
“You know your music taste is not as bad as I thought it would be.” Max muses flipping through the tapes.
“What did you think it would be?”
She hums “Top forties, mostly.”
“Okay first off, I have a wide and varied taste,” Steve says drumming on the wheel, “And second of all top forties is the top forties for a reason they’re good.”
Max scoffs, “They suck.”
“Oh really so I didn’t see you mouthing along to Wham! The other day?”
She blushes slightly, “No.”
Max finally makes a choice popping in a Queen tape and leans against the window as ‘Your my Best Friend’ plays over the speakers. She doesn’t live that far from the school but it’s far enough that it would’ve been an awful freezing walk, it’s already snowing lightly. And not for the first time he’s angry at Billy, a kind of grit your teeth seething anger.
“Hey,” Steve blurts out instead of any of that, “What kind of stuff do girls your age like?”
Max looks at him, strangely, “Why?”
Yeah that was kind of a creeper question, Steve sighs, tapping on his steering wheel, "Mayfield can you promise you won’t tell anyone about this?”
“What?” She laughs.
“Max, I'm serious,” Steve says, making eye contact, “Hopper will actually kill me, and if the boys found it they would not stop bothering me about it. I am trusting you to not tell anyone.”
Max looks intrigued, a smile quirking at her lips, “Okay fine, I promise.”
“Okay,” Steve stares her down briefly before looking back at the road for the turn into Daffodil road, “It’s for El.”
“As in Eleven?” Max blinks, “The mage?”
Steve is incredibly uncomfortable calling her Eleven and doesn’t know what a mage is, “Sure.”
“Why are you getting her stuff?” Max asks.
“Because she’s always either with Hopper or the boys or alone in a cabin,” Steve explains, “I figured she would like some girl stuff, ya know. And seriously if you tell any of the boys about this, you’re dead okay? Your ass is grass."
Steve has a brief moment where he wonders if Billy makes similar threats and his stomach turns. But when he looks over Max is fully reflexed and even smiling slightly in the passenger seat.
“Yeah, yeah I know ‘I’m dead’ okay,” Max snarks lightly, “But yeah, I’ll help you, but we’ll need to make a few stops first.”
Steve does not like that smile on her face, but anytime Max is away from Billy is a plus in his book and so he smiles back at her. Turning on the road to move back to Main Street.
***
Hopper is standing outside when he gets to the cabin. “You’re late.”
Steve checks his watch, he’s not that late, plus Hopper did not give him an exact time, just ‘after school’ which it is, “I had to give Mayfield a ride home.”
Hopper squints, “Doesn’t she have family who could do that?”
“Hop, come on, you know Hargrove.”
A flash of real anger appears in his eyes, it's surprisingly strong Steve doesn’t think he’s ever seen him look that angry at a non-government worker before.
“Alright then kid, come here,” Hopper says gruffly, “This is the knock so she knows it’s safe.”
Hopper knocks rhythmically on the door, Steve taps along with his fingers against his jeans, trying to memorise it.
Steve listens as in response to the knock an absurd amount of locks click and El opens the door.
El dark hair is curling out from her ears, she’s dressed in an oversized flannel and cuffed jeans, clearly Hopper’s hand-me downs. She looks young. Seve can’t imagine looking at this girl and seeing her as just a number or a weapon.
“Steve.” El says with a small smile, “You are back.”
“Uh hey El,” Steve starts, “It’s nice to see you again. I heard you were the best little nurse I could’ve asked for.”
“You heard, you …do not remember?” El says, cocking her head.
She has an unusually severe expression for a kid, she looks at everything like she’s trying to figure out how it works.
“He had a pretty bad concussion El,” Hopper reminds her, his voice softer than he’s ever heard it.
“And that means you can not remember?” El asks.
El moves back, letting Steve and Hopper walk into the cabin. It all looks warm and familiar but now that his brain is less soupy he can see the little details that didn’t exist to him before. The crayon drawings on the fridge, Hopper’s socks littering the floor of the reclining chair and little things that make it feel like a home. Steve hovers awkwardly while Hopper beelines to the fridge chugging a bottle of water.
El stands in place looking much more comfortable, her full attention on him.
“Yeah, I got hit on the head really hard and that caused my brain to move and hit itself against the inside of my skull,” Steve explains, does El even know what a brain is? He has no idea what she does or doesn’t know, “Which bruised it and because of that I have some trouble remembering stuff.”
El’s brow furrows as she looks at him with worried eyes, “Is it forever?”
Steve swallows, that is a question he has been trying really hard not to think about.
“His brain will be better soon.” Hopper jumps in, “It just needs time to heal.”
“Soon?” El repeats sadly, like she knows what it actually means.
“Hey El I brought some stuff for us to do, while your– Hop is at work.” Steve changes the subject blushing over his blunder and holding up his full backpack.
El’s eyes light up, "Presents?"
Steve smiles shrugging, “Sure.”
“Thanks Harrington, Spoiling my kid.” Hopper grumbles, not quite hiding his smile.
El jumps forward eagerly, taking the bag from him and taking it to the couch, ripping it open and rummaging through the school supplies to find the good stuff.
“That’s good of you,” Hopper says, looking at El fondly.
Steve just shrugs, keeping his eyes on El’s small pleased smile, “I just thought she’d like it, something new to do.”
Hopper looks at him for a long minute that Steve pretends isn’t happening before he claps him on the back, sending a bolt of warmth through him. “Well you have the number to the station, I should be back by eight-thirty but I’ll radio if I’m running later. Be good El.”
El nods seriously at that, “I will not be stupid.”
Hopper nods back, it’s clearly some sort of inside joke or something. Hopper ruffles her hair once and pats his shoulder again, before he’s leaving with one last “Don’t let anyone in without the knock, I’ll see you both soon.”
The door closes firmly behind him, El automatically relocking the bolts without moving a muscle. And yeah he knew she had powers but seeing them being used so casually still blows his mind.
In anticipation of really meeting El for the first time he probably brought too much stuff. He had thought that when seeing his half-full basket at Melvalds', that Max had gleefully filled with girly magazines, nail polish, simple makeup, notebooks and stuff for drawing.
She was a menace to shop with, even conning him into buying her the new issue of ‘Teen magazine and a bottle of sparkly nail polish.
The thought of it being too much was quickly overridden by the thought of El alone in the cabin when Hopper’s at work, and while he may not understand the raised-in-a-lab-with-superpowers thing he does get that.
Plus in meeting new kids Steve’s learned that bringing something to show the kid breaks the ice faster than anything else and he wants her to like him.
“For me?” El asks, clutching a magazine to her chest protectively.
“Yeah,” Steve answers, sitting down next to her, “I got those for you.”
“Pretty,” El smiles wistfully at the woman on the cover.
He nudges her slightly with his shoulder, “Yeah like you.”
El beams, carefully reading through them, occasionally asking a question about a word or phrase. Steve answers the best he can but he’s not smart and sometimes he has to guess or say he doesn’t know, El never looks at him like he’s stupid though and it makes him feel like he’s ten feet tall.
Steve hasn’t done more than ideally flip though one of these girly magazines in the line for the grocery store before, Tommy would’ve eaten him alive if he ever found out not to mention his parents, but they are actually kind of interesting, and says as much to El, his eyes snagging on a picture of Patrick Swayze.
“These are for girls,” El questions with her head cocked, “But you are a boy?”
He and El have migrated into the center of the couch, their knees and shoulders touching as they balance a magazine between them so they can read it together.
“Well yeah,” Steve admits, eyeing up a hair styling technique, “But you’re a girl and I got them for you. But I don’t really know which ones are considered cool so Max actually helped me pick these out.
“Max?” She frowns.
“Hey what’s wrong with Max?” Steve asks, “She’s cool.”
El scowls, “She is not cool.”
Okay, there was definitely some drama there, but he doesn’t even think that El and Max had really met. Maybe she was jealous of another girl in the Party? God he is so not equipped to deal with this.
“Hey why not? Was she mean to you or something?” Maybe this is just a miscommuncation? Or El not understanding Max’s brand of bitchy affection?
She looks down at the magazine with a frown, “...No.”
“Then why?”
El breathes out harshly leaning back and letting her head lull on the back of the couch looking at him with big sad eyes. “Mike was smiling and laughing with her.”
Ooooh that’s what this is about, Steve almost laughs in relief, although the idea of Mike having two girls interested in him was kind of hilarious, especially with one of those girls being Max, “Do you smile and laugh with Lucas? Or Will and Dustin?”
“...Yes?”
“It’s just because they’re your friends right?” Steve says, "Friends make you laugh, and you can share them. I mean you and Mike are both friends with the other boys right?”
“Yes, we are all friends,” El answers.
“Well Mike and Max are friends too, and she can be your friend as well.” Steve finishes lamely, he thinks that went as well as it could’ve all things considered.
“But…” El starts her eyes looking wet, “What if they are better friends without me?”
Steve doesn’t know what exactly to say. That's not really a fear you grow out of, add her and Mike’s crushes and this is an emotional minefield. “Hey El come on they love you, I’m serious all those little shits talk about is their nerd game and you!”
“Really?”
“Really,” Steve nods, “It’s kind of annoying actually. All El this and El that, but… you are pretty cool.”
El ducks her head shyly, “So Mike does not like Max more than me?”
“No,” Steve confirms, “They are just friends, I mean he didn’t ask Max to the Snow-Ball did he?”
El beams, “No, he asked me.”
It’s only then that it occurs to him that Hopper probably wouldn’t let her go, what with the government and all, “Wait are you even allowed to go to that?”
El’s smile gets even wider, “Yes! Hop said I could go, just one night.”
Oh thank god, he didn’t get her all excited for nothing.
“You know you and Max could be friends too,” Steve suggests flipping the page. “It’s good to have a girl friend.”
El cocks her head, “Why?”
“To do girl stuff with, like reading magazines and doing make-up with and talking about crushes and stuff.”
El blinks, “But I have you. We are reading a magazine.”
Yeah he should’ve seen that coming, “Sure but…” Steve sighs, “It’s different with another girl… just think about it okay? And be nice, Max thinks you’re cool, so don’t hurt her feelings.”
God, he is so thankful she has no idea how hypocritical that is coming from him.
“I am not mean,” El declares, “And I will think about it.”
Steve smiles at her, revelling in the smile she gives him back, nudging their shoulders together and flipping the page.
“What is a cr-ush?” El asks seriously.
Oh boy.
***
El is giggling over a picture of Rob Lowe occasionally looking up as if to check she’s doing it right when Steve’s stomach gurgles, “Hey are you hungry?”
her eyes get large and hopeful, “Eggos?”
Steve stands up stretching slightly, walking into the kitchen area, “Yeah I’m not falling for that Ellie, eggos are for after dinner.”
El pouts turning around to watch him rummage in the cupboards. “The food is in the freezer.”
Steve opens the freezer only to see a collection of frozen dinners, “Yeah that’s not happening, we are having real food, better food.”
“It is good,” She says cluelessly, “Except for the mushy peas they are gross.”
El deserves a real home made meal, the kind that makes you feel loved with every bite. Steve doesn’t doubt that Hopper loves El but he knows from experience that frozen meals for every meal just make you feel sad and lonely.
The cupboards are sparse and the fridge is even more so, without a single vegetable in sight. He does find a bag of potatoes, some cheese, some broth, milk, flour and a bag of frozen mixed vegetables.
He can work with that.
“Hey El, you wanna help? I’m going to make some dinner.”
“Okay!” El says happily running up to wash her hands in the sink, “You wash your hands before dinner.” She tells him.
Steve follows after her scrubbing his hands next. And then handing El the chunk of cheese, he can’t find a grater, “Cut these in the smallest pieces you can.”
El nods seriously, carefully grabbing a knife and getting to work, while Steve cuts and peels the potatoes to boil them.
Together they make a cheesy sauce mixed in with mashed potatoes and vegetables. It’s not the best thing he’s ever made but it’s warm and filling, and El beams as she takes a bite. Steve takes a bite of his own bowl leaving a portion left in the fridge for Hopper.
“It’s good!” El mumbles with her mouth full.
Steve smiles back, already thinking of how he’d improve it, wondering if El would like onions or leaks and …he’s getting ahead of himself there.
“You are good at cooking.” She declares taking another spoonful.
Steve takes a bite of his own, “Well I had a good assistant.” He shrugs, smiling at her.
El beams back moving to the couch and sits down, “TV?”
Steve has no idea if Hopper has a no TV while eating rule or not, but he’s not her dad and Hopper didn’t say anything about it. “Sure.”
El flicks on the TV with a flick of her head in a move that would never not be cool, repeating the action until she finds a channel she likes. Curling up with her bowl of cheesy potatoes close to her chest. Steve sits next to her with his own bowl leaning back into the couch.
“Do you remember this? We watched it when you were sick,” El asks.
Steve squints at the screen. It's an older looking sitcom with people with southern accents, it looks vaguely familiar but he can’t recall anything about the characters or plot.
“No,” Steve sighs, “I’m sorry El.”
“It is okay,” El nods to herself, “I will remind you.”
It’s a simple declaration but it warms Steve’s heart anyway.
They eat their food as El explains the complicated lives of the Ewing family. Adding her own commentary by calling people mouth breathers and explaining the dumbest plot lines with a straight face. He wonders if she did this when he was concussed as well.
“She is Ellie,” El points, “Like me. And she is pretty, like me.”
“She sure is,” Steve agrees.
Now that seems familiar, Steve has a vague memory of explaining the concept of common names to her and El seems very into the concept of being pretty.
The door knocks in a pattern just when they are finishing up and El unlocks it casually, her eyes still fixed on the screen. Steve straightens up as Hopper walks through the door, putting his bowl on the floor and making to stand up.
“Hop,” El greets, “Steve and I made dinner. There is some for you in the fridge.”
“Hey Hop,” Steve says, waving awkwardly.
“Oh well I won’t say no to that,” Hopper replies, grabbing the bowl from the fridge and putting it in the microwave and grabbing a fork sitting down on the recliner and kicking off his shoes, “So what are we watching?”
“Dallas,” El replies.
Hopper groans, “Jeez kid again with the soaps, they’ll rot your brain, right Steve.”
“Uh I guess?”
Steve wasn’t sure exactly what he should be doing. Usually when he babysits the parents will say some sort of ‘thank you for coming’ and Steve takes the cue. Hopper has given no social cues that he should be leaving and he isn’t sure how to bring it up. He’s just acting like it’s normal that he’s here.
Hopper’s eyes grow wide when he takes a bite of his cheesy potatoes. “Shit kid how’d you make this?”
Steve shrugs looking at his empty bowl, “You had the stuff already, it wasn’t that hard and El was a great help.”
Hopper raises his brows, “Well shit I guess I’ll have to go shopping for next time.”
Next time, he thinks with a hint of awe as El smiles at him excitedly.
When Steve had gotten back to school after their fight, suddenly Billy wasn’t in any of his classes anymore. He suspects Hopper had something to do with it, but that’s something he’s pretending not to know about so he doesn’t have to talk about it.
But Hawkins High is a small school and only has one lunch block, so there's nothing that they can do about Billy drilling holes in his head then.
Steve pulls off his headphones as the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Billy stares at him across the cafeteria, his stare hot, heavy and hungry not unlike a few girls he’s known.
Despite himself a bolt of fear shoots down his spine, but he doesn’t let that show on his face. Acting like he doesn’t have a care in the world as Billy grits his teeth at the nonreaction.
“Hmm, it looks like our new King Hargrove is requesting round two of your jock mating rituals,” Eddie muses, dramatically, but Steve can see the wariness in his expression, glancing up at the red scars that litter his hairline and then his friends all debating about something Steve doesn’t understand, without a care.
“I have better taste than that,” Steve grumbles back, “But… yeah something like that.”
Eddie looks baffled by his response, honestly it’s kind of annoying by how surprised he is about literally everything he does. Especially because they have really never really interacted before this.
Long live the King, Steve thinks bitterly, filling his mouth with plastic pudding.
Is that from something? It feels like something he's heard before. Hamlet maybe? He was pretty sure that there were a few kings in that and it seems poetic enough.
Steve glances back at Billy subtly, sweeping his eyes around the whole cafeteria and keeping him in his periphericals. The effort making his head twinge with the start of a headache.
Billy is sitting in his old spot at his, Tommy and Carol’s table with his chest puffed spitting vitriol with a bared smile, the rest of the basketball team bending to meet him. Steve feels a rush of frustrated anger and his mind goes back to revenge.
It’s not something he had consciously started thinking about. It had started late one light when he had trouble sleeping. It had started as only a seed of a plan but Steve sleeps like shit now, and the plan grew and grew each night. The kinks slowly being worked out and growing more and more fleshed out and untraceable.
Something that would destroy Billy Hargrove far more than he did to him.
Damage that would last years.
The evil plan.
It would start small and casual, Steve isn’t popular or have any friends anymore but people still like him. He’s also on good terms with the female population, who would spread the story originally and let it grow worse and worse with each retelling.
A glance at his car, ‘what do you think he’s overcompensating for?’
‘That earring is …interesting right? …I’ve never seen that on a guy before.’
To Billy’s girl of last week, ‘geez another girl? He’s really over doing it don’t you think? Why can’t he keep a girlfriend?’
‘I mean you know what California is like… it’s just …different from here.”
‘You know I heard he popped a boner in the locker rooms after practice… roughhousing y’know?’
Always light, almost joking until it becomes a fact in everyone's mind and no one would be able to prove that Steve started it all.
But he would know is, the problem.
A year ago he barely would’ve hesitated. But then he thinks of how disappointed Dustin would be with him if he knew and he just wants to shrivel up and die. Because even though Billy has it coming, doing something like that, spreading a rumor so low would make him a bully. He doesn’t want to be that guy anymore; he wants to be someone his kids can be proud to know.
Plus there is always the chance that Billy would react violently at one of his kids for it, (Steve thinks that after risking his life for them he’s earned the possessive, my kids) which is just not an option.
So the evil plan stays locked up in the basement of his mind.
Steve rips his eyes from Billy taking another bite of his pudding and ignoring Eddie’s probing stare.
***
Billy to no one's surprise is a sore loser. Or like a boy who never figured out that girls don’t like it when you pull on their pigtails and next day everyone is looking at him and whispering. Jonathan who he had ended up walking in with more out of familiarity than anything else, shoots him a strange look something between concerned and constipated, “Hey man–”
Steve’s really not in the mood to hear whatever Jonathan was going to force out and walks off without a word slipping his sunglasses over his eyes, the lights in here are already on the edge of blinding.
Usually this is when he would hang out with his friends before classes start, bitching about their teachers or he would listen to Nancy ramble about her ideas for new articles for the school paper, her big blue light lit up with excitement. But since those are all out he just heads to his history class early.
Mrs. Click isn’t there yet and there’s only one other person in the classroom, a girl sitting in the desk behind his usual seat with a spiky and heat damaged bob drawing on her converse with a sharpie. He’s never seen her before, he wonders if she’s actually in his class or just hiding out in here.
Doesn’t matter though, he sits down in front of her in his usual seat. She startles as he does only now noticing him.
“–What are you doing here early?” She blurts out annoyance with a drip of irritation colouring her tone.
Steve really doesn’t want to get into it, she doesn’t like him for whatever reason, that’s not his problem. He doesn’t answer her, instead grabbing his Walkman from his bag and putting in his Soft Cell tape.
“–at an assh–” The girl grumbles behind him, barely audible over ‘Tained Love.’
***
The staring and whispering only gets worse throughout the day, it’s not gleeful whispering instead more of a concerned, confused murmur. Which means that whatever rumor Billy has spread is bad.
Steve grits his teeth, the low tones of the whispering scraping across his eardrum on the edge of painful and distracting enough that he hasn’t caught any of the words being said. Nancy had looked at him from her locker conflicted like she didn’t know how exactly to move forward Jonathan lurking behind her like a silent shadow.
Steve had looked away first grabbing his books and leaving grimacing as the whispers stop when he gets in earshot only to explode behind him.
Billy smirks evilly when he passes him knocking the books out of his hands and getting in his space. You could hear a pin drop in the hallway as everyone looks on with wide eyes between them, waiting for the explosion. Nancy muscling herself to the front of the growing crowd dragging Jonathan with her.
Steve’s pulse jumps again at the sight of Billy in his face but he keeps his face unimpressed, he’s got a crowd of witnesses to his advantage this time. “Dude really? What are you twelve? Are you going to take my lunch money next?”
The crowd sniggers while Billy goes red growling, “Maybe I should.”
Steve makes his face into a mock sympathy, “Do you need money for lunch Hargrove? I mean there's no shame in it, a man’s got to eat, here.” He takes out a crisp ten from his wallet holding it out outstretched.
Billy flushes furiously knocking his hand back, a group of girls clumped by the lockers giggle to each other.
“I don’t need your money Harrington,” He growls and then raises his voice, “And stay away from my stepsister… one might think you’re doing something pervy.”
The crowd shuffles uncomfortably at that but no one looks surprised, Nancy starts to open her mouth but Steve interrupts, she’s got good intentions and it warms his heart that she wants to defend him but she’d only make it worse.
He can’t help the disgusted face he pulls at that and doesn’t hide it, Max is a fucking child, “First off that’s disgusting Hargrove, your sister is like twelve,”
Thirteen actually, but he scoffs continuing, “I’m not that desperate. Second of all I’ll leave her alone when you stop trying to beat up her friends,” He casually runs a hand through his hair showing off the pink scars by his hairline, causing some gasps, “I mean really, beating up a twelve year old how pathetic do you have to be to go after a middle schooler?” Steve asks rhetorically, laughter in his voice, the crowd is shifting in his favour, new theories spinning with this new exclusive.
Billy looks around clenching his fists trapped, he’s not good at this game like Steve is and throwing a punch now would only prove his point.
Steve looks down pointedly at his books on the floor, “Then again, it’s not much of a surprise is it?”
That earns a round of laughter from the crowd, nothing dramatic just chuckles and sniggers. All at Billy’s expense. Steve picks his books up slowly, layering as much condensation in the action as he can.
“Y-Your dead Harrington!” Billy snarls.
Steve’s chest constricts with the threat, his head throbbing at the reminder, he can’t show it though he’s so close, so instead he smirks, “And there is that famous wit, I’ll see you around Hargrove.”
He walks off, his head held high and refusing to look back. Steve feels like he won that round.
***
Unsurprisingly, the news of their confrontation is all the school is talking about right now.
Margaret Murphy is a bold girl, she kind of floats between cliques just charming enough to not be considered a freak and stupidly beautiful. Steve and her had briefly dated in eighth grade, before she told him she couldn't handle how serious he had taken their relationship. It had stung at first but by now it’s an old scar and it only twinges on bad days.
“So is it true?” She asks, leaning against the lockers, “About the kids? Billy’s sister? How he was going to beat up a middle schooler?”
“Well, are you surprised?” Steve retorts, putting his science textbook back in his locker. “You’ve seen the guy. I didn’t want to make it a big thing but…”
“He’s awful,” Margaret says lowly, “I mean, did you hear about how he treated April Hollis?”
Steve frowns, “What did he do to April?”
Margaret’s eyes light up, leaning in to tell a familiar story. One he’s heard before from just now with a crueler Billy twist.
“God that’s awful,” Steve breathes honestly, “Hey will you let me know if you hear anything else?”
“Well aren’t you a white knight?” Margaret teases, her eyes softening.
Steve scoffs, “I’m no knight Mags, …it’s just a thin line.”
Between beating kids and beating women goes unsaid but sits heavily between them.
Billy is angry and violent.
Why? Steve doesn’t know but suspects it has to do with his parents. After all it is the fastest way to mess someone up, and he takes his anger out on anyone smaller and weaker than him.
Like Max, like Lucas, like April.
“Okay.” Margaret nods seriously, “I will. Just please don’t get yourself killed?”
If only she knew how funny that actually is, “I’ll do my best.” Steve smiles.
Margaret nods, "It wasn't a very believable rumour anyway, you were a good boyfriend, honestly the best I’ve had.”
“Thanks?”
“No one really believes it. That you would do that. You’re a good guy.” Margaret reassures before walking off coolly, off to spread the word most likely.
Good guy. It shows how much Margaret doesn’t know him, better guy, maybe. But not good, not yet.
Mike doesn’t like him, but over the year he and Nancy where together he has gotten used to him and accepted him in his life. So when Steve stops by the Wheeler house bright and early for his babysitting gig, he only gets an eye roll and a muttered, “I thought Nancy dumped you.” When Mike answers the door.
Steve smiles mockingly, ignoring the ache, “Nice to see you too, Wheeler, I’m here to babysit.”
“I don’t need a babysitter,” Mike sneers.
Steve raises a brow, “The tunnels say otherwise,” Mike opens his mouth to argue but he cuts him off, “Anyway, I’m here for Holly dipshit, let me in.”
Mike huffs abandoning the open door and walking into the house.
“Michael! Is that Steve at the door?” Mrs. Wheeler’s voice carries through.
Mike sighs with his whole body, freezing in the foyer to yell back, “Yes Mom!”
“Steve’s here?” Nancy’s voice adds from somewhere upstairs.
She’s said that more times than he can count over the time when they were dating, but now she sounds confused and incredulous and his heart trembles in his ribcage in an old habit that now sends shocks of pain through his limbs.
“The boyfriend?” Mr. Wheeler chimes in, from his chair in the living room.
“Ex-boyfriend,” Nancy corrects bluntly.
It’s harsh enough that Mike shoots him a half sympathetic half awkward look at him that Steve pretends he can’t see.
The Wheelers are the kind of family Steve would see on TV and just ache with envy over, the way they bicker over each other fills the house in a well worn dynamic, like a wash soft sweater.
“Steve!” Holly cheers toddling up to him.
Steve feels his smile turn realer at Holly’s pure little kid joy, crouching down to meet her clumsy hug, “Hey Holls.”
There’s the sound of heels clattering on the floorboard on the stairs as Nancy moves down them a large messenger bag slung over her shoulder, she’s wearing some pink ruffly blouse and a long skirt, her hair fluffed up and her face made up.
She looks beautiful, he almost says so, the words on the tip of his tongue.
You’re beautiful Nancy Wheeler.
“Steve?” Nancy asks her hand hovering over the railing.
Steve shuffles in place, “Hey Nance.”
“What are you doing here?” Nancy asks.
Steve grabs Holly, lifting her up into his arms, “I’m babysitting.”
“Oh Steve sweetheart,” Mrs. Wheeler says walking into the foyer, she’s dressed a little more formally than usual with fluffy permed curls and more make up than he’s ever seen her in, “Great you’re here. Ted!” She turns, yelling through the house, “It’s time to go!”
Mr. Wheeler gets up off his chair grumbling about the prices of colleges.
“You guys are going to Emerson?” Steve asks, Mrs. Wheeler made it seem like they would be back by eleven-ish tonight and that’s in Boston, which is definitely an overnight trip.
Nancy shoots her mother an annoyed look, “We are looking at some closer colleges.”
“Honey it’s good to keep your options open,” Mrs. Wheeler cajoles, “And wouldn’t it be nice to be closer to home?”
“Cheaper too,” Mr. Wheeler mutters.
Nancy’s nose flares with irritation and Steve knows that she has her heart set on Emerson and a plan that follows after that. But he can’t imagine wanting to move away from a mom that wants you around, even after you’re grown.
Mike rolls his eyes walking up the stairs.
“Michael Wheeler!” Mrs. Wheeler scolds, “Come say goodbye to your sister!”
“Bye Nancy!” Mike yells behind his shoulder not stopping his stride and closing a door behind him loudly, his proper teenage years are going to be a nightmare.
Mrs. Wheeler sighs loudly, “Anyway Steve we won’t be very reachable for the day but the numbers for the police, hospital and Mrs. Byers are on the fridge and I’ll be calling to check in whenever I can.”
Steve nods, “Of course, no problem Mrs. Wheeler.”
Mrs. Wheeler smiles at him. It's the same as Nancy’s, “Such a responsible young man. Ted! Come on! Nancy, honey you too.”
“Mom, can I talk to Steve for a second?” Nancy says shifting her weight.
“Oh of course!” Mrs. Wheeler smiles strangely wide. “We’ll just be in the car.”
Mr. Wheeler grumbles but moves out the door with Mrs. Wheeler, her planting a kiss on Holly’s head as he closes the door.
“Hey Holly, why don’t you show Steve your dolls?” Nancy asks pointedly.
“Yes! Steve, we should play dolls!” Holly says squirming in his arms wanting to be let down.
Steve reluctantly does, with Holly gone this will be the first time he’s been alone with Nancy since Tina’s awful party. Holly bounds off to get her dolls.
Nancy looks at him with those big eyes and Steve has to fight the urge to move closer to her now. She looks like she’s waiting for him to say something and Steve refuses to speak first. She's the one who wants to talk she can start.
“What was that with Billy yesterday?” She asks, her eyes locked on him with an intensity that he used to think was cute but now just fills him with dread, “Is he bothering you? Beca–”
“Nancy,” He cuts off, “I don’t want to talk about this.”
“You have to Steve,” Nancy exclaims, “If he’s bullying yo–”
Steve scoffs, “No I don't." He says harshly, “Not with you. I’m not your boyfriend anymore.”
Her face crumbles slightly as she shifts her weight.
“Steve… about how we ended… it just-just wasn’t working.” Nancy says, talking around it.
Each word feels like he’s seeing her with Jonathan that night all over again. Like he’s getting stabbed with a rusty knife.
“Nancy. Nancy just stop.” Steve says, “I don’t –I don’t want to hear it. I really don’t, you wanted Jonathan. It’s fine but we aren’t friends. We were never friends. I am here to watch your siblings. That’s all.”
Steve wants Nancy in his life, but he can’t handle it. Watching her be happy with someone who isn’t him, maybe someday he will be but not less than a month after their break up.
Nancy blinks wetly and Steve hates how he itches to comfort her, like she didn’t crush his heart and call him bullshit, what does she have to be upset about?
“Just go Nancy,” He sighs, “Just go.”
He doesn’t want to see if she does, instead going to find Holly in the living room; she smiles when she sees him large and uncomplicated, “Steve, here,” She says, shoving a cloth doll in his hands, “You take Polly. I get Mandy.”
Steve smiles at Mandy, the cabbage patch doll he had gotten her for her birthday is held securely in her hands, he waves one of Polly’s cloth arms in a wave pitching his voice up, “Hello Mandy.”
Holly giggles at the voice and Steve chooses to focus on that rather than the sound of the door closing.
“Okay so that guy is the captain right?” Steve points to the TV.
“Yes,” Dustin confirms, "Captain Kirk.”
“Okay,” Steve nods, watching as Captain Kirk talks with a guy in blue with weird eyebrows, “Why are they all wearing different colours if they’re from the same crew?”
“Because it’s to show their jobs in the crew,” Dustin explains, veering off into a ramble about the hierarchy of the USS Enterprise.
Steve half listens to Dustin watching the show and throwing the last of the popcorn into his mouth. Star Trek isn’t as bad as he had thought it would be, he even kind of likes it (not that he would tell Dustin that).
Technically Steve wasn’t supposed here this long, he had just wanted to drop off some brownies to Mrs. Henderson as a thank you for recommending him to Mrs. Lindom but then he ended up being invited in and chatting to her and then Dustin came out and then the next thing Steve knows Mrs. Henderson is insisting he stay for dinner with his brownies for dessert.
After dinner Dustin wanted to show him his nerd show and by now he’s absolutely over stayed his welcome.
“Alright boys,” Mrs. Henderson says from her arm chair, Tews perched on her lap purring up a storm. “Last episode, it’s past your bedtime Dusty-Buns.”
“Aw Mom,” Dustin complains, but shuts off the TV after the credits anyway.
Steve stands up stretching, “Thanks for having me Mrs. Henderson, I had a great time.”
“Oh Stevie sweetheart, you're welcome to stay the night,” Mrs. Henderson offers with a smile.
Dustin giggles at the nickname (like Dusty-Buns is so much better) and usually he would chaff at it but Mrs. Henderson says it without a hint of condensation and also Steve also suspects she would burst out into hives if she didn’t give everyone around her a cutesy nickname.
“Oh um I wouldn’t want to intrude."
“No, no we insist." Mrs. Henderson insists, her earnest expression, a mirror of her son’s. “Just look at the time it’s almost eleven o’clock at night, much too late for driving.”
“Yeah!” Dustin cheers, “It’ll be like a sleep over! Steve, come on please?”
Steve has driven around much later than eleven o’clock, but the Henderson house is so warm and cozy and he is weak to both of the Henderson’s pleading expressions.
“If you're sure it’s not a problem…”
“Of course not sweetie,” Mrs. Henderson smiles, “Why don’t you call your parents, let them know and I’ll get you some clothes to sleep in and a spare tooth brush. Dusty could you make up Steve's bed?”
Dustin grins toothily, “Yep!” Running off.
Mrs. Henderson smiles at him, it’s a soft motherly thing and it makes his chest burn. She walks further into the house leaving him to call his parents.
Well Steve’s parents aren’t home, they haven't been for a month so he just kind of waits in the living room for a minute, long enough for a quick phone call before absently walking to where Mrs. Henderson went. Hovering around the doorway of her bedroom not daring to overstep. Literally.
“Here sweetheart, Dusty’s clothes won’t fit you but if you don’t mind wearing some of my things?” Mrs. Henderson says, pulling out some clothes from the bottom drawer of her dresser.
“No of course not, really anything would be perfect,” Steve reassures, privately he just hopes it’s not too ridiculous.
She hands over the folded clothes, “Here, sweetie, have a good night.” Mrs. Henderson pats him gently on the cheek. The term of endearment zaps through his blood and he can feel his face heat up as he squirms under the look of genuine fondness she’s giving him.
Thankfully the moment is broken by Dustin yelling through the house, “STEVE! The bed is ready, come oooooon!”
“Dusty!” Mrs. Henderson shouts back, “There is no need to yell!”
Steve chuckles, “I guess that’s my cue, thanks Mrs. Henderson. Have a good night.”
He leaves her making his way back to Dustin, who is standing in the hallway freshly dressed in his pajamas and tapping his foot impatiently. “Finally! Took you long enough.”
“It was like five minutes, chill out Henderson.”
“Yes, well go get dressed I’ve set up the bed in my room,” Dustin commands, marching off into his bedroom.
Steve, freshly dressed in a spare pair of Mrs. Henderson’s sweat pants and a giant shirt with a cat on it, hesitantly opens the door to Dustin’s room.
“Henderson?”
“Steve!” Dustin bounds up to him, practically dragging him into the room. “Come on! check it out.”
Dustin’s clutter and toys have been pushed to the side to make room for a mattress. The mattress is lying right next to the bed and judging by how empty and clean the underside of his bed is, the mattress had been pulled out from underneath and is now covered with a dark blue fitted sheet and has had an extra downy cover and pillow thrown carelessly on top of it.
“Look, It's like bunkbeds!”
Steve can’t help but return the smile, patting the kid on the shoulder, “Alright Henderson this’ll do.”
Dustin climbs over his new bed to get into his own while Steve settles in the mattress. Beating his borrowed pillow into a better shape and absently listening to Dustin shuffle around in the bed above him. It’s nice, boyish, innocent and almost brotherly. Steve just hopes Dustin doesn’t end up stepping on him in the middle of the night trying to get some water or something.
The light is turned off but moonlight still shines through the closed blinds, lighting the room in a cool blue light.
Steve deepens his breaths and closes his eyes, shifting so he's facing the window instead of the underneath of Dustin’s bed.
“Hey Steve?”
He doesn’t bother opening his eyes, he hasn’t felt so safe in a while, “Yeah?”
“How… do you not care?” Dustin’s voice wavers, “Because, I tried but I do still care.”
Steve sighs, flopping onto his back, thinking about Max gravitating towards Lucas, “Look Dustin I didn’t exactly give you the best advice with that–”
“What!” Dustin whisper-shouts, “Steve! You mean to say I’ve been working off of a faulty hypothesis this whole time!”
Steve only vaguely remembers what a hypothesis means and will not be asking, “No shithead, that’s not what I mean– just listen okay?”
“Fine.” Dustin grumbles.
“What I meant was that… I wasn’t in a great place when I said that– Nancy had just…” Cheated on me, he thinks, but while Dustin is his closest friend he’s also only thirteen, “What I meant really is that– is that girls don’t like it if you come on too strong. It’s creepy. You don’t want to show all your cards at once, that’s where the not caring comes in. You have to act like you care a little, but not like you care so much it’s going to destroy you. And it’s all about reciprocity."
“Reciprocity?”
“Yeah, like… like –dancing you take a step forward and then you wait to see if she takes a step towards you as well.” Steve explains.
“What if she doesn’t?” Dustin asks.
“You can try two more times, but if she doesn’t say yes, and it has to be a strong yes man otherwise she’s not into it,” He scolds, “And if you don’t get that yes, then you back off forever.”
Badgering girls is a surefire way to be banded creepy, Steve remembers Keith Carr breaking the three strike rule with Melody Harris asking her out again and again until she snapped and screamed at him in front of everyone. He ran off in tears and no girl had gone near him since.
“So three tries?”
Steve adjusts on the mattress, “Yeah man, three strikes and you're out.”
“Ugh Steeeve,” Dustin whines, “Really with the sports talk?”
“Are you really telling me you don’t know that one?” He rolls his eyes.
They sink into a comfortable lull, while Steve mentally reviews the advice he just gave, he’s never had someone look up to him like this before and it fills him with a kind of terrified thrill. He wants to be the kind of guy Dustin can look up to.
“I’m sorry about Max.”
He really is, it may just be a baby crush but having her like Lucas instead must make it ache. He and Jonathan were not nearly as good of friends as Lucas and Dustin are and it still felt like a huge betrayal.
He can’t see his face but he can hear Dustin’s breathing change into something ragged and sad. “Thanks, Steve.”
Without thinking he clumsily reaches up and pats him on the head, “You’ll be fine kid,” He reassures, “And hey you know you can always come to me if you need any more advice or anything right?”
“Really?”
“Yeah Dustin, of course what are friends for?”
It slips out without meaning to. Steve tenses, so much for not showing your hand.
Dustin flops over the side of the bed, his gummy grin blinding even in the low light, “Friends!?”
Steve can’t help but smile back, a little relieved, “Henderson, c'mon you think I drive around people I’m not friends with?”
Dustin’s smile causes Steve’s heart to fucking melt like hot butter. It’s so pure and joyful, no one's ever been so happy to be Steve Harrington’s friend before. Steve relaxes back into the mattress on the floor shifting so he’s facing the door, his back to Dustin. That night he sleeps more soundly than he has in a long time.