Chapter Text
How could he pretend everything was fine? Before all this at least he could say that nobody died. They had been close when the demodogs were running towards him in the parking lot. The kids huddling in the bus. Then again when Billy had come barging in nearly choking Lucas, although Steve didn't think that Billy had it in him to kill people. He had been angry about something else that's why he turned on him so viciously.
The tunnels when Dustin screamed, lying on the floor. Breathing in so much of this shit. It tasted like ash he still could feel it coating his tongue and throat, and he hadn't even taken a mouthful like the younger boy had. And then the worst moment; Dustin and him standing in the tunnel. All the monsters rushing towards them. At that moment Steve knew he was done for.
“Save Dustin”, his mind screaming at him. Cold, slick, wet skin brushing past them. Nearly knocking them over, a few more seconds and he would have lost balance. Dustin growing heavier by the second, as he clutched on for dear life. Lifting the kid from the ground.
The house that had been so cold felt hot now, and stuffy. Coppery smell of blood making his stomach turn. His heart beating so hard he could see his shirt lift and fall. Sweat dripping into his eyes as he tried to put one foot in front of the other. Bracing himself against the wall he tried to get to the living room, but it felt so far away. Screams filling his mind, Steve wanted to forget. The warm blood on his hands, the sound of flesh tearing and intestines pooling onto the ground. Dustin lying on his back the creature towering over him. Its teeth ready to take a bite.
“No....stop”, he ran his hands through his hair. Anything to release the pressure that was building in his head. Memories upon memories looping in his mind. Bloody handprints on the white wall, ones he had left there. His trembling hand morphing into Barb's.
“Where's the bathroom?”, her voice clear as day. Screams, Eleven collapsing, Will lying motionless in Hopper's arms, Lucas kicking trying to escape Billy's grip, Dustin lying on the floor this time the demodog took a bite. Blood spurting onto the floor and Dustin turning paler, screaming in pain. He couldn't breathe anymore, his lungs constricted.
Steve needed to get outside, clear his head. Another step, he swayed nearly doubling over. In the process knocking into somebody. A strong hand stopped him from colliding with the floor.
“Are you alright, kid?”, Hopper's concerned eyes.
“I...I...”, he couldn't form any words, desperately gasping for air. The grip on his shoulder tightened.
“Steve, Steve! Are you asthmatic? Do I have to call an ambulance?”, Hopper's voice hurting his head. “Damn it, Steve, answer me!”, the man shook him, desperation in his voice.
“He's having a panic attack”, another voice joined.
Steve managed to look up. All the kids had crowded around him. In the centre Billy kneeling down next to him.
“You need to breathe. Slow and deep breaths. Just copy me.” Billy's medallion bobbed to and fro whilst he breathed. Steve tried to concentrate on that and not on the terrified faces of the kids and Hopper.
“Get back a bit. Give him space”, Billy pushed them away, but they only took a few steps back. Eyes still fixed on Steve. The policeman was snapping the blue hairband against his wrist, Dustin opened and closed the latch of his baseball cap. A smile on Billy's face, he laid his hand on Steve's knee.
“Everything is okay, Harrington. If anyone comes here to attack you I'll kick their asses.”
“A-A-And the k-kids?”
“You're such a softie, but yes, Mom, I'd even protect the little dipshits.”
Breathing was still difficult, but far easier than it had been before.
Dustin slowly came closer. Sitting down on his knees, “I'm sorry for wanting to keep the demodog. Friends are more important than a groundbreaking, scientific discovery.” Tears in his eyes when he took Steve's trembling hands in his.
“Y-You could have d-d-died.”
“Nobody died, son. Look, they're all here. Alive and kicking”, Hopper said, a weak smile on his face.
“We all breathed it in...W-what if we all die. I could never forgive myself if anything happened to you”, his glance directed at the children. His breathing getting quicker again. “Nothing is alright...We're still going to die”, his voice broke.
“We don't know that, Steve”, Hopper tried to calm down.
“Look what happened to Will.”
“Will spent days in the Upside Down. Nobody else did, okay. Nothing is going to happen.”
Dustin's tight grip on his hands and Billy's reassuring hand on his knee kept him grounded, kept him from slipping into all these terrible memories. He closed his eyes, trying to concentrate on his breathing. Tried to forget that the room felt too small, too crowded.
“When this all over you have to play D&D with us”, Dustin voice broke through his fear.
“Am I invited too?”, Billy asked.
“Most certainly not!”, Mike joined in, “You almost killed two of our party members!”
“You heard that, Harrington, you apparently belong to the party now.”
It warmed Steve's heart and tears started to fill his eyes. As if this wasn't humiliating enough he was going to cry for the second time this night. And this time in front of douchebag Billy. He had his breathing under control now. Blinking back tears he opened his eyes again.
“Only if I can be the Rouge.”
Dustin eyes widened, mouth agape for once at loss for words. The boys exchanged glances. Max and Billy wearing equally matched confused expressions on their faces.
“You know D&D?!”, Mike finally almost shouted.
“Did you ever play?”, Dustin said before Steve had the chance to answer. Tired of pretending, he had almost died after all, and things like his reputation were rendered non-existent Steve didn't deny it anymore.
“There were some older, nerdy kids that lived in my street. We used to play.” It grew so silent a pin drop would have been heard then all of a sudden the children broke out in conversation at the same time.
“You, Steve? You played D&D?”
“How many campaigns?”
“How many were in your party?”
“Where are they now?”
Billy shook his head laughing, “You are becoming more interesting by the minute, Harrington.” Dustin had let go of Steve's hand using his to explain Steve something whilst gesturing wildly.
Billy pulled Steve up, “Whoa, don't collapse again”, he said when Steve felt whiplash coming back full force. Leading him towards the kitchen he pulled a chair up. The kids had followed still throwing questions around.
“Hey, hey, hey! Shut up!”, Hopper shouted, “I want you all to shut up okay. What did I tell you about your behaviour towards Steve in the next few days?”
“No running, or shouting when we're around Steve”, Mike muttered.
“Good, so keep your voices down.” He turned towards Steve, “Now we really need to take a look at that bite of yours.”
Steve was looking as bad as Eleven. A pitiful sight as he slumped in the chair. Struggling to keep his eyes open. The fringes of his hair damp from sweat and dried blood. Shrugging out of his jacket Hopper noticed Steve's hands still shook when he undid the zipper. The state the boy was in reminded Hopper of young soldiers in the field. A state he never wanted to see again. A certain look, as if they were already dead inside and frozen with fear, the same look now in Steve's eyes.
He pushed his concern away, and helped Steve out of his t-shirt. Holding his breath he didn't want to look, but had to. It was a relatively small bite, compared to Bob's at least. Bitemarks and a fair amount of blood were on the wound, but after cleaning it he discovered that the teeth had merely broken the first layer of skin, it wasn't very deep.
“You're in luck, you don't even need any stitches.”
“Will it scar?”, Billy asked.
“Ahm...yeah I guess”, Hopper started to bandage the injury.
“Good, scars are quite popular with the ladies.”
“Ugh...gross”, Max said. Billy gave Steve one of his weird looks which Steve was even more exhausted now than he had been before, to decipher.
“Do have all your shots?”, Hooper asked.
“I don't think shots will keep me from transforming into a demogorgon.”
“Demogorgon....ahm I thought they were called demodogs”, Billy said confused.
“I'll talk to Dr. Owens. He'll know if the bites and spores present any danger.”
“Okay, thanks”, Steve put his t-shirt and jacket back on.
“You should get some more rest”, Hopper said, “I'll ask Joyce if she has a bed for you”, he clasped Steve's uninjured shoulder. “Billy, you are coming with me.”
“C'mon, I won't hurt anyone.”
“We can talk about that when Steve doesn't have any bruisings, or a concussion. Dustin, make sure Steve doesn't fall from the chair.”
“Yes, Chief.”
When Hopper returned Steve was lying on the floor. His head in Dustin's lap. Mike's jacket draped over him. In spit of it all Hopper smiled, kneeling down he softly nudged the sleeping boy.
“What are you doing? Stop!”, Dustin slapped his hand away.
“When he wakes up he'll hurt more when he spent the night on the floor than in a proper bed.”
“Okay, but I'm gonna wake him”, Dustin decided. “Hey Steve, Steve...Wake up.”
“What did you do this time?”, Steve sat up grimacing slightly. His hair a mess flopping into his face.
“They did nothing, but I got a bed for you”, Hopper helped him stand up. Without another word the boy let himself be led to another room. Nearly collapsing onto the soft mattress. As soon as his head hit the pillow he was out again.
Hopper threw the blanket over Steve. It had been a while since he had tucked a sick child in. But tonight he was taking care of two sick children. Fear seized him, as he tried to forgot her. How she slipped away from him. Her eyes closed, lying so still under the blankets. Slowly he leaned forward, making sure Steve was still breathing.
“Take care, kid”, he muttered, and exited the door.
The ringing of a phone, not his, pulled him out of a fuzzy dream. He had been running from something, but everything had been distorted. The coldness that had been surrounding him had been suffocating, pulling him down. Steve opened his eyes, an unfamiliar ceiling coming into view. Outside he could hear a soft conversation, too far away for him to make out any words that were spoken. A shelf standing opposite of the bed was filled with records. It seemed familiar, but he couldn't quite place it, his brain felt slower than usual.
Slowly he tried to sit up only to stop feeling a searing pain in his head and arm. All the memories came flooding back. Especially him freaking out in front of a bunch of kids and Billy. Well, fuck Billy. He couldn't care less about what Billy thought about him now. But the kids, they had been terrified already, how much more terrified were they going to feel now? He had to get up, this time he did it more careful. The pain in his head was bearable. When he pulled back the covers he noticed the room was cold. Deciding to hold on to the blanket he draped it over himself and opened the door.
The scent of bacon and eggs made him almost turn around, but after he had swallowed hard against the nausea he crossed the distance to the kitchen. Everyone was sitting at the table. Some plates filled and food untouched, some already licked clean.
Mrs. Byers on the phone, “Yes, he got into a bit of a scuffle, but it wasn't his fault...”
“Steve”, Dustin's fingers were sticky with maple syrup, and his plate was still stacked with pancakes, “Steve”, he repeated this time in a quieter voice.
“Why are you whispering?”, Steve sat down next to him. The only empty seat left.
“Hopper said we shouldn't shout because your head hurts.”
Will and Eleven were both wrapped in blankets, like Steve was, and looked like he was feeling. Both their plates contained copious amounts of breakfast. Will was running his fork through the food, but the fork never made its way to his mouth. Eleven looked like she'd fall asleep at any given minute. Both of them had dark bags under their eyes, and looked sort of pasty. Steve could still see the dark abrasions on Will's wrist where they had tied him up.
“Should I get you a plate?”, Dustin asked between mouthfuls.
The mention of breakfast made his stomach flip, “No thanks, I'm not really that hungry.”
“Really? But when was the last time you've eaten?” That was a good question.
“Yesterday morning.”
Dustin's eyes went wide, “Dude, you need to eat something.”
“How can you even eat when you nearly ended up as demodog dinner?”
Dustin shrugged taking another mouthful, “I guess danger makes me hungry.”
“Everything makes you hungry”, Lucas commented. Steve shuddered, pulling the blanket closer to his body.
“Hey Champ, you're finally awake as well”, Hopper entered the house, wearing his thick police jacket.
“Yes”, Steve answered, already wanting to go back to bed even though he'd just been up for a few minutes.
“Do you want to eat something?”, Hopper asked.
“No....I'm not hungry.”
Hopper nodded, pulling a pill bottle out of his pocket. “You have to eat something, shouldn't take these on an empty stomach.” Right now Steve just wanted to get back to bed. “I'm gonna make you some soup”
“I don't..”, Steve started to protest.
“You'll feel better after...and you too”, Hopper directed his glance at Will and El.
“Billy said that I should give this to you because you were shivering”, Max handed him Billy's heavy leather jacket. Surprised Steve took it and slipped it on.
“He really said that?”
Max frowned, “He's weird. I mean he never gives anybody his jacket. Not even his dates. Billy must like you.”
“He nearly killed me yesterday”, Steve said, the jacket felt nice and smelled like Billy's ridiculous aftershave, or hairspray.
“Sometimes you're really mean to someone because you're too scared to be nice to them”, Mike piqued up. Before Steve could start a lecture about how messed up that relationship view was, or more like try to string words together and hope they made some kind of sense Joyce called him.
“Steve, your Mom is on the phone.”
“Really?”
“Yes, I told her that you got into a fight while protecting Lucas.” Even though Steve was feeling groggy he managed to read between the lines. Not to tell his Mom anything about the demodogs, or that he almost died. That she almost ended up like Barb's mother. His hand trembled when he took the phone receiver.
“Mom?”
“Stevie, thank God. Are you okay, sweetie?”
“I....”, when Steve had been around Dustin's age his parents had sent him to a holiday camp over the summer break. All the years before that he spent his time with his cousins, but they had moved further away that year. He had hated every minute of the camp. Not knowing anyone homesickness quickly settled in and made him feel like he was feeling now. Alone, scared that when he opened his mouth he would burst into tears. He clutched the receiver tighter.
“I'm fine”, his voice cracking, he still held on to the hope maybe his mother wouldn't noticed.
“Stevie, what happened?”, nothing ever got past her.
“I can't explain”, he settled for the truth. No elaborate lie came to mind.
“You know you can tell me anything.”
“Are you mad?”
“No, why should I be mad?”
“Because...I...I...got into a fight”, his voice hitched again, tears filling his eyes.
“You stood up against a bully that picked on kids. I'm proud of you.”
“Can...Can you come and pick me up?”, he asked, trying to stay strong until she hung up.
“Of course, I'll be on my way. I'll need two hours, okay?” Steve nodded. “Stevie?”
“Yes”, Steve leaned against the wall, his head pounding now, the room tilting again. “Mom...I...”, he remembered the demodog's head lingering over him, all teeth exposed. The fear that he was drawing his last breath. “Mom....I love you”, he sobbed, tears dripping down his face onto the worn out floor.
“I love you so much, Stevie. Everything is going to be okay. In two hours I'll take you home. We'll put on a movie, put on our PJs and watch Star Wars. All three movies.”
“Again”, Steve laughed through tears.
“There's never too much, young man.” Steve wiped his tears on Billy's jacket, but to no avail as they kept coming. He felt a hand on his shoulder, Joyce gave him a warm smile, the one Steve had dubbed the Mom-smile.
"I have to go”
“Try to stay out of trouble until I'm there, Sweetie. I love you.”
“Love you.”
Joyce slowly pulled the receiver from his grip. “Mrs. Harrington....Yes, of course....It has been a very long, exhausting night, so don't worry....It's my pleasure, he's a very well-behaved boy...Yes, take care...bye”, she hung up, leading Steve back to the room he had woken up in. He let himself be guided to the bed.
“I'm sorry it's so cold in here”, she pulled anther set of blankets out of the cupboard. Placing it onto the bed, then she sat down next to Steve. “After last year, after Will went missing, I was terrified as well. Of these monsters chasing my son and we...Hopper and I, we talked a lot about it, and it helped a bit. So if you ever need to talk to somebody about what happened you can talk to me, or Hopper any time.”
“Thank you”, Steve was touched that somebody who didn't even knew him cared so much, “Thank you for looking after me even after Will...after Will had to go through so much.”
“You helped his friends, and you talked to him yesterday. It meant a lot to him. You're practically family now”, a twinkle in her eyes when she gave yet another one of her warm smiles. Steve tried not to burst into tears again and laid down. Joyce pulled the covers over him and brushed some of his hair away. Staying until sleep pulled him under.
Someone shook him, “Stevie, wake up.” Her warm hand on his shoulder. Slowly he opened his eyes. For a moment he thought he was still dreaming. Sitting on the bed was his mother. Worry in her eyes, she smiled weakly, “Stevie, we're going home.” He sat up departing from the blankets with some regret. At least the jacket kept him warm.
“Can you walk?”
A couple hours ago, when ash had fallen into his hair, and all the kids were clutching their tools scared, but too proud to even acknowledge the fact, Steve had thought he would die down there in the tunnels. But here he was his mother sitting next to him.
He hugged her tightly, she rubbed circles on his back, “I'm here now. Everything is okay.”
Slowly he let go, “Yeah, everything is okay”, he lied. He stood up, this time the room didn't spin. They made their way to the kitchen. Thankfully somebody had cleared the kitchen table, Hopper and Joyce sitting around it. No food to be found. All the kids were sitting on the couch watching TV.
Hopper handed Steve's Mom the pill bottle, “The doctor said he should take one every four hours for the first few days, but he shouldn't take them on an empty stomach.”
“Thank you so much for taking care of my boy.”
“No problem.”
Dustin turned on the couch, “Are you leaving, Steve?”
“Yeah.”
The younger boy circled the couch, under the protest of the other kids because he blocked the view to the TV screen, and hugged Steve. A warm, sappy feeling made Steve nearly cry again. Since when he had become this mushy?
“Do me a favour and don't get anymore science project pets, okay?”
Dustin laughed, “I won't.”
“Good, you have to promise.”
“I promise.”
“Friends don't lie”, Steve smiled.
“Friends don't lie”, Dustin repeated, “We should do a spit promise.”
“Nope, too old for that”, Steve quickly pulled his hand away to prevent further damage.
“Another time. You have to come to one of our campaigns.”
“Stop inviting everyone, Dustin”, Mike shouted from the couch, “We already have our group.”
”Well, you have El, Steve and me joining your stupid stalker group”, Max threw in.
“That's settled then”, Dustin shouted in glee, only to softly apologise when Hopper threw him a look, “I didn't mean to shout”, he quickly whispered.
“I'll survive”, his hands started trembling again when he said this careless phrase, now filled with meaning. To his relief Dustin didn't seem to notice.
“Goodbye, Steve.”
“Take care, Dustin.”
“You will...you will still hang out of with us, right?”, Dustin quickly asked, blushing slightly. Steve felt terrible that Dustin could even think that after all they'd been through Steve would never talk to them again.
“Of course I will, I can't leave you without supervision for long, can I?”
“Worrying suits you”, Dustin smiled and waved when Steve's Mom lead him towards the direction of the car.
“Take care, son. If you need to talk to anybody you know where you can find me”, Hopper clasped his shoulder. Joyce hugged him.
After his mother pulled out of the driveway she threw him an inquisitive look, “How do you know the boy?”
“Dustin.”
“How do you know Dustin?”
“It's a long story”, Steve muttered, feeling dizzy as he watched the world pass by.
“He seems like a nice kid.”
“Yeah, he is.”
His mother turned the heating higher in the car, “When we're home you're going straight to bed”, she decided.
“Can...can you stay with me when I'm sleeping?”, Steve asked, feeling like a 5 year old again.
“Of course. I can't leave you without supervision, can I?”, she repeated what he'd just told Dustin.
“Very Funny.”
His mother starting laughing, “You're going to make a good mother someday, Stevie.”
In spite of himself he smiled, feeling safer than he had all night.