Work Text:
So. Steve cannot pretend he isn't a little angry, well angry is too big of a word. He cannot pretend he isn't disappointed in himself, in Nancy, in fucking Jonathan Byers. He still does not know what exactly happened between them while he was off fighting Dustin's little dema-dog, but he can see in every touch and glance between his girlfriend and fucking Byers that something happened.
After everything, when everyone goes back to Casa Byers to meet up and Dustin helps him clean up the wounds Billy left on his face, Steve catches Nancy's eye. She is hovering, close by Jonathan's side, and together they hover over Will and Joyce Byers, who both sit on the couch looking completely drained. He tries for a small smile, the movement pulls at the cut on his face and hurts enough he immediately groans and drops his head back.
“Dude what are you moving like that for?” Dustin asks. He drops the already bloody cloth on the table.
It probably says a lot, Steve thinks bitterly, that he is being cleaned up by a fucking middle-schooler instead of his girlfriend, who would rather stay close to the dude who so obviously has a crush on her.
“It's only going to hurt more if you keep moving like that.” Dustin tells him. Steve scowls, immediately groaning again, and Dustin laughs despite it all. Well Steve is glad he is at least the source of amusement for someone.
“Hey.” Steve's eyes snap open, looking right at Nancy's pretty, beautiful, oh so lovely sharp face looking down at him. “How are you doing?” Her voice is soft, sweet and, oh, he still loves her so much.
“Beat up.” He mumbles, the words coming out wonky since half of his face is completely swollen. “And tired.”
Nancy's sharp laugh is a delight to hear, and she runs a hand through his hair. Dustin, Steve notices suddenly, has left to go stand by his friends side, and Steve spots Byers across the room looking at the two of them with a very strange look in his eyes.
“Where were you yesterday?” Steve asks. It is a question he doesn't really regret asking, but maybe it is not the right time for it. And by the flash of guilt that crosses over Nancy's face, it is a question he truly does not want the answer to. Well, that is disappointing.
“Can we talk somewhere else?” Nancy whispers, casting an uncomfortable look around at all the people trying not to look as though they are able to listen in.
Steve heaves himself upright, and moves towards the door to the backyard in as much of a straight line as he is able to. Now that the adrenaline of fighting monsters has worn off, Steve feels as if he could sleep for days and every muscle in his body just hurts.
“Steve …”
“So you and Byers, huh?” Steve asks. The guilt on Nancy's face is overwhelming and Steve looks away from her lovely, sharp face. He exhales, nodding. “Alright.”
“Alright?” Nancy asks, voice raised. “That is all you are going to say?”
Steve scowls at her, ignoring the pain that shoots through his wounds. “What else do you want me to say, Nance? Apparently you don't love me at all, so I guess this shouldn't be a surprise.”
“That is not fair, Steve.” Nancy says. Her voice breaks.
Steve doesn't care. Well, that is a lie. He cares a lot, but he doesn't know how to care right now because if he does he will start sobbing right there in the Byer's backyard, when Jonathan fucking Byers is in the house. Steve looks at her and his heart hurts. He loves her, so much. “No, Nancy. Cheating on me isn't fair, Nancy.”
He brushes past her, their shoulders slam into each other and Steve grits his teeth at the ache. It spreads from his shoulder, to his beaten up face and to his heart. The metaphorical pain hurts the most, as cliched as it sounds.
He bursts back into the living room of Casa Byers and asks: “Who needs a ride into town? Dustin? Max? Anyone?”
“You shouldn't drive right now, kid.” Chief Hopper says immediately. “Not when you might have a concussion.”
Since he has escaped certain death about 17 times today alone, Steve just glares at the Chief and grabs the keys to Max's shitfuck of a brother's car. “Max? I'll drop you off at home.”
Max looks behind her at Lucas, at Dustin and shrugs. “We need to drop Billy off somewhere in the woods though.”
Steve shrugs. “Fine by me.”
“Steve, wait!” Nancy grabs his arm. “Are you just going to leave?”
“What?” Steve asks, a little sharper than he wants. “What are we going to do now? There is nothing to do now. I just want to go home and take a shower. Don't forget Nancy, we all have fucking school tomorrow.”
Nancy lets go of him and Steve says goodbye to the Chief, Joyce Byers and just leaves. Perhaps it is all just a little dramatic, well it probably is, but he is followed out by Max, Dustin and even Lucas so he figures he isn't the only one who wants to go home. They wrangle Billy – still out cold – into the car, dropping him off in the woods far away from Casa Byers, and then Steve drops off the kids one by one.
Steve doesn't sleep that night. Every time he closes his eyes, all he can see are those shrieking dema-dogs running towards him and there is a part of him that thinks there is something in the shadows, so he flicks his lights on and lies motionlessly on his bed, staring up at the blinding light.
*
Dear Indiana State,
I should be admitted to your stupid college because I am probably the only student you will ever get who has fought 2 monsters, 2 separate times, and survived. I am not legally allowed to tell you this, because apparently the government is just a big bullshit organization, but know this: I took a nail-studded bat to fight monsters.
What has this taught me you ask? Well apparently for one, it does not after all make your girlfriend love you. I never really thought it would, but I always thought bullshit experiences like fighting monsters together would bond us for life. Then, I have also learned that no matter how safe you feel you are always under threat, threats you might not even be able to see. What kind of bullshit is that? I want to be safe at home, in my bed, in my kitchen, or safe at work. Now all I know is that literally anything can happen, and I don't know how to work around that knowledge. What uses are dental plans and good health insurance if you can still die any minute? Absolutely nothing.
So, in summary, I believe you should admit me to Indiana State because while I was fighting monsters, other prospective students were able to write, reedit, and send off their application for early admittion.
With Regards,
Steven Harrington III
*
Nancy runs to catch up with him in the parking lot of school. She looks horrible, gaunt and pale, and for once Steve doesn't worry but there is a sharp sense of relief in his mind. At least Nancy seems to have had just as a sleepless night as Steve himself.
“Hey can we talk?” Nancy asks.
“What do you want to talk about?” Steve bites out.
Nancy reels back, hurt on her face. “I just want to explain.”
“What is there to explain?” Steve asks. He waves a hand. “I am in love with you; you say you love me and then say you don't; You and Byers fuck or whatever.”
“Steve!” Nancy hisses, looking around to see if anyone has heard.
“It's fine, Nancy.” Steve brushes off. He starts walking, forcing Nancy to jog to catch up with his long strides.
“It wasn't-” Nancy says.
“-like that?” Steve finishes her sentence for her. “Do tell me, Nancy. Did you and Byers not suck face, or hook up or fuck?”
“We did, it just didn't-”
“-mean anything?” Steve laughs. The bitter sound startles even him. “Do you have any idea how many times I have heard my dad say that to my mom, Nancy?”
Nancy stops short, and Steve doesn't look back and he hurries to make his first class. AP World Lit, which is thankfully a class he shared neither with Nancy, Jonathan or Billy that shitstain. His teacher though double takes at the bruises on his face, and Steve glowers her into not asking any questions as he throws his books onto a table in the last row and just wishes he had stayed at home, but he cannot really afford missing any more class.
The combination of glowering and bruising keeps most people far away from Steve the whole day. Byers never comes, probably at home with his brother, and Steve is glad he doesn't have to see Byer's smug face. He would probably punch him. Billy doesn't come to school either, and a small part of Steve hopes that the guy fucking died in the woods, but Steve squashes that hope down pretty quickly.
He doesn't even give Nancy the opportunity to try and speak with him by spending lunch in his car, and when it is time to go back home he has absolutely no desire to go back to a cold and empty house.
He drives around town aimlessly for hours, until it is long dark out and the road blurs before his eyes. It is just … He really doesn't want to go to sleep. Whenever he closes his eyes, his shitty mind decides to do a replay of either “Monster-Hunting” Greatest Hits or a “Jonathan/Nancy” extravaganza. He isn't even entirely certain how his mind can picture he exact curve of Jonathan's shoulder as he leans over Nancy, but still the scenes are hyper realistic.
Loud knocking shocks Steve out of his latest replay, and he looks up at the Chief's vaguely concerned face looking into the drivers side window. Steve looks around. He has parked by the convenience store without noticing, head leaning against the steering wheel.
“Harrington.”
“Chief.”
“You cannot park here forever.” The Chief says, carefully.
Steve pauses, nods. “I'll leave.”
“Go home, kid. You look dreadful.”
Steve looks away. Some of his conflicted thoughts must be reflected on his face, since the Chief sighs and asks: “Are your parents still out of town?”
“Yes.”
“Then go to the Wheeler's. I am sure you and Nancy will find a way to sneak you in.” the Chief suggests.
Steve grimace looking away from the Chief's awkwardly earnest face and taps his steering wheel once, twice, three times. “I will Chief.” Steve lies.
“Good.” The Chief looks very relieves, tapping Steve's car with his torch once and he leaves. Steve waits another 3 minutes before peeling out of the parking lot and racing through Hawkins' nearly deserted streets.
*
He does not speak with Nancy for another week, leaving the room whenever she enters if he can, or ignoring her steadfastly. He looks at her sometimes, when she doesn't see him and she looks well, so there is that at least. But she also looks happy, spending time with Jonathan and they talk more than he and Nancy ever did and that just smacks Steve in the chest, pushing that small ember of hurt into a full blown raging fire.
He hadn't noticed before, when he and Nancy spent so much time together, that he barely has any friends anymore. His friendship with Tommy and Carol from before is long gone, and he had been happy only spending time with Nancy. He regrets that now, as his social circle is pretty much reduced to casual small talk with his lab partner and the people he sits beside in class.
Before he knows it nearly 3 weeks have passed and Nancy barely even looks at him when they meet accidentally in the hall.
*
Dustin approaches him a week before Snow Ball for the Farrah Hairspray and they meet once after class so Steve can show him the perfect way to mold a hairstyle worthy of a dude as cool as Dustin.
It takes them a couple of tries and almost all of the can to hold Dustin's curls in place, and so Steve hands Dustin 3 cans of the stuff the day of the Snow Ball. “I'll pick you up at 6.” Steve promises, because Mrs. Henderson likes Steve and Dustin thinks it will make him cool if he is driven to the Ball by a highschooler.
Nancy is chaperoning, pretty curls and pretty face in her pretty dress and the ember of bitter hurt sparks again in Steve's chest as he stares at her.
He still loves her so much, and he would love probably love her for a long time, but it seems as though she had truly forgotten about the whole time they spent together.