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Jonathan sped up the driveway to their home, Nancy in the passenger seat with his mother clutching to his kid brother in the backseat. The sweat they’d built up while stifled in that small cabin clings to their bodies, uncomfortable and clammy thanks to the nightly fall air. Despite that, they all welcome the cool breeze and racing countryside. Anything to be out of that cabin. Away from those heaters, and the images of the black crawling at Will’s skin-
The ride was silent, everyone reliving the last few hours over and over again. So the sight of the Byers residence, getting ever closer, is a relief.
Jonathan stops, perhaps a little too late, but they’re all frantic. Steve and the rest of the kids are still indoors, surely worried sick. Being left on the line like that… Jonathan would have hated every minute of it. He’s happy they can barge in the door, proclaim the good news. Will’s back, Will’s okay.
He pushes his way out of the car, hearing his own door shut behind him followed by Nancy’s, and then the back door that both Joyce and Will slide out of. Jonathan takes one peek behind his shoulder, finding his brother with an arm wrapped around their mother’s waist. Joyce is the one to give Jonathan a weak smile. Will’s got his head leaned against her side, blinking through his exhaustion.
Jonathan gives a nod as he jogs up to the door with Nancy one step behind. He instinctively takes in a breath, already feeling a smile crawl onto his face as he pushes into the home. He had a greeting that already dies when he sees the man passed out on the floor. Jonathan freezes, brows knitting tightly together as he stares.
Nancy bumps right into him, grunting until she sees the man too. Nancy slips past, walking carefully around him. Then she seems to understand there’s no noise coming from the house either, so she moves to search into the kitchen. When she doesn’t see anything, she hurries down the hall.
“Mike?!” Nancy calls, her voice starting to climb in concern.
Joyce then approaches, her face pinched with worry as she pushes past Jonathan with Will in tow. They equally look confused, moving around the passed out man cautiously.
“Jonathan,” Joyce’s voice holds the same concern her face shows. She keeps Will just one step behind her, in case this unknown man becomes a danger. “Who is that?”
Jonathan steps closer, leaning down to press his fingers to the man’s throat. “I’ve seen him around school before. I think his name is Billy. He’s a new student.”
“Okay,” Joyce nods slowly, moving to sit Will down on the loveseat in the corner. She would have made him lie down on the couch if it wasn’t covered in glass from the shattering window. “Why’s he here?”
“I don’t know,” Jonathan bites back, but he immediately regrets the anger that slipped into his tone. He’s not sure how he was expected to know. He’d been with his mom the entire time. He knows as much as she does. He steps back though, content knowing that the man’s heartbeat is still present. “He’s not dead.”
Nancy’s rushing in next, her eyes wide and sparkling with panic. “No one’s here. All of the kids and Steve are gone.” She exhales, bringing a hand up to run through her hair. “God, what if something happened to them? What if-”
Jonathan reaches out in a flash, resting his hands on her shoulders and squeezing. After everything they’ve been through there is no way he’s going to let her thoughts run wild. They never know. The battle might not be over, so they'll need Nancy's wits.
“Nancy, stay calm. Steve’s with them. They’re safe.” Jonathan says each word slowly, making sure they hit home. He’s glad to see her eyes soften somewhat.
Nancy gulps, nodding. She steps away, starting to pace as she thinks. “This guy’s here. There’s no car. No kids. I think Max is Billy’s sister… maybe he came here to check on her. But that doesn’t explain why…” Nancy’s eyes glaze over Billy, noticing the blood that trailed out of his nose. She narrows her eyes, stepping close enough to see his lip is split as well.
“There was a fight,” Nancy concludes, eyes darting up to Jonathan’s. “Look. Look at his nose. His lip.” She points down at him and her eyes fall down to some of the ripped, crinkled papers on the ground. She trails the pattern back, finding it leading into the kitchen. Without thought, she darts past the entrance way and right into the kitchen.
Jonathan follows after, finding the cabinet they had pushed into the corner disrupted. He then glimpses to the right, finding a broken plate on the ground. “Shit.” Jonathan breathes just as Nancy’s eyes dart over to him.
There’s fury in Nancy’s eyes as she darts back into the living room, staring down at Billy with boiling anger. “If he hurt Mike-”
She’s interrupted by the sound of tires on gravel. A flash of bright headlights peering through the windows follows next, causing both Jonathan and Nancy to dart to the front door in hope. Joyce watches on, lips parted and her ears straining to listen. By now, she’s got Will’s head in her lap, half asleep.
Both Nancy and Jonathan lift their arms to block the light, but by then the lights are shut off and they can already see the outline of Hopper’s truck. He jumps out from his side, letting out a small groan. Both can see the passenger door open and Eleven pops out next, looking just as tired as Will. Her and Hopper convene at the front and he’s quick to throw an arm over her shoulder to help her inside, just as Joyce did with Will.
“Hopper, have you seen Steve?” Nancy’s quick to inquire, stepping aside as he enters with Eleven.
Jim doesn’t answer, His eyes are busy searching around the room desperately, up until they land on Joyce and Will. After his eyes connect with her’s, he rakes his gaze over Will’s form as Joyce equally looks over Eleven. There’s a parental instinct in them both, and both are relieved when they see the other child is okay.
Jim takes another step inside when he notices the splayed out body on the ground. He takes one step back, one arm already out to block Eleven from the mysterious man.
“Who the hell is this?” Jim snaps, turning to peer at both Nancy and Jonathan with the early sparks of agitation in his eyes. “Another mess to clean up?”
“We don’t know.” Nancy answers quickly, opening her mouth to continue but Jonathan’s already filling in.
“He’s here and Steve and the kids are gone. We don’t know where they went.” Jonathan rubs his palms off on his pants, trying to continue his bold streak. “Let us take your truck-”
“The demo-dogs.”
All eyes fall to Eleven at the sound of her soft voice. There’s puzzlement on each face, quickly mixing with worry as it appears she’s putting something together that the rest of the household hasn’t. Slowly, she turns to look up at Hopper with worry in her eyes.
Jim, on the other hand, seems to understand where she’s going with this. His head flinches back, clearly not agreeing. “No…” he trails off, shaking his head stronger this time. “How could they?”
“Hive mind.” Eleven says next, straightening up. He peers back to the door, her lower lip starting to tremble as she worries for her friends.
Jim’s eyes follow her’s, but they only stare at the darkness outside the front door. Jim moves his hand to her shoulder, still trying to piece everything together. He can’t find it possible to tie the thought together. He and Eleven both say the demo-dogs retreating. But how could Steve and the kids have caused that?
“Jim, what is she talking about?” Joyce presses for an answer, her hand stilling in Will’s hair. He’s asleep now, breathing peacefully where he rests next to his mother.
Jim’s eyes scrunch together as he brings his free hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. He’s thinking, running through all possible outlets that could make the scenario work. But after the last few days his mind is just on the brink of giving up.
“We were there. We were at the lab and the-the demo-dogs were there. We wouldn’t have gotten past them but they retreated at one point. I have no idea why but we moved forward and got the job done.” Jim detaches his hand, waving it in the air as he tries to collect an answer.
“Hive mind.” Eleven repeats again, looking over at Joyce in hopes of her understanding.
Jim tries to build off of what she’s saying, continuing her line of thought. “You think they… you think the kids-”
“Hurt it.” Eleven finishes for him, giving a speedy nod.
“How could they?” Jim ponders next, rolling his lips between his teeth. He plants one hand firmly on his waist as he continues to think through the possibilities. “There wouldn’t have been a way for them to get in -” Jim cuts short, the puzzle pieces finally slotting together. “Shit.” He exclaims as everyone else watches on as the answer reaches him. “Shit, shit, shit. These damn kids-”
“Jim, what’s going on? Where are they?” Joyce tries to keep her voice calm, but she’s shifting in her seat. She’s desperate for an answer. She’s got her son back, sure, but she’d never be able to forgive herself if those kids got killed.
“The field,” Jim answers as he rummages through his pockets for his keys. “The field, Joyce. I think they were going to the graveyard.”
“The graveyard?” Nancy ponders next, shaking her head as she blinks through her confusion. “What do you mean? What graveyard?”
Jim’s taking a bold step forward, about to race to his car when they all hear it.
The sound of gravel against tires.
Jim steps out onto the porch, watching as headlights flash through the trees lining the path. He feels Jonathan and Nancy join him, one on either side, all with their lungs floating into their throats hopefully. Eleven’s just as hopeful as she slides between Nancy and Jim to watch the car approach. And with the car comes booming rock music.
The dark blue vehicle skids to a stop in front of the house, and for a second everyone stares back at the headlights as they wait for the passengers to step out. The pause is a second too long that they grow uneasy, and Jim’s about to say something when the engine cuts off and the lights and music goes with it.
The doors open and Steve’s recognizable long form steps out from behind the driver’s seat. The kids climb out from the passenger side, filing out excitedly, especially after being crammed in the back.
“We did it!” Dustin yells into the night air, throwing both of his fists in the air in success. Mike throws an arm over Dustin’s shoulder, bringing him in as he laughs with him. Light, disbelieving laughter. They won.
Nancy, with her mouth set angrily, steps forward. “Where the hell have you been?” She yells at them all, actually silencing their rejoicing. The shadows stare back at her, apparently shocked at her outbursts.
Jim, who’s never one to turn down an argument, is too exhausted to listen to this one. He waves his arms, scanning the edge of the forest as he does so. “Everyone inside. Now.” He bites out demandingly. Much to his annoyance, there’s hesitation from Steve and the kids, so he raises his brows and repeats himself. “Now .”
He then turns, walking back indoors and listening to everyone shuffle in behind him. His hands find purchase on his hips again, which must amuse Joyce because she’s smiling at him knowingly. He tries his best to glare back, but she only shakes her head fondly as she turns her eyes down to her boy.
Hopper turns around, watching as all the kids pile in the room. Max’s eyes fall down to Billy, relieved to see her awful step-brother still unconscious on the ground. Lucas follows behind her, patting her between her shoulders consolingly as they pass Billy. Mike follows next, followed by Dustin and then Steve. They line up on Hopper’s left side, while Nancy and Jonathan are on his right. Eleven takes place near Joyce and Will, falling down to rest her head on Joyce’s shoulder.
“Okay,” Jim starts snappily, turning his gaze over to Steve. His eyes trail along his form, and then back over the kids. They’ve got different bandanas and scarves around their necks, along with goggles all propped up onto their heads. “You were supposed to be here. Where the hell did you go and who the hell is this guy?”
Steve’s head swivels down to Billy, along with the kids beside him. Steve turns up to Hopper, prepared to explain when Max steps forward.
“He’s my step-brother.” She swallows, eyes falling to him nervously before meeting Hopper’s gaze again. “He came here for me and he was going to hurt Lucas so Steve hit him.”
Both Nancy and Jonathan turn to eye Steve, and that’s when Steve finally pushes his bandana down from his face to reveal the blood and bruises gracing his skin. Joyce is the first one to gasp, but Jonathan’s mouth falls upon soon after.
“Are those… pink band-aids?” Jonathan interrupts, spotting the band-aid placed on Steve’s chin and the corner of his forehead.
Steve looks puzzled, bringing his fingers up to graze against the bandage that Jonathan mentioned. He seems shocked as his fingers graze the stretchy plastic.
“They’re not pink.” Dustin’s quick to interject. “It’s all we had. Billy hit him over the head with a plate and threw him down.”
“Yeah!” Lucas adds onto the story. “He punched him a lot. He probably would have killed Steve if it wasn’t for Max.”
Dustin nods excitedly as he interjects next. “She shot him right in the neck with that needle!” He beams.
“Guys,” Steve says in a low, warning tone.
“It’s true,” Mike says defensively, eyes glimpsing over to Steve. “We wanted to help you and Eleven but Steve wouldn’t let us leave the house. Then Billy came and knocked Steve out, so we put Steve in the back of Billy's car and took it."
Steve leans forward, giving Mike a pointed glare. “Shut up!” He whispers harshly.
“Max got to drive!” Dustin continues, completely ignoring Steve’s headings. Steve gives up at this point, turning his head down and placing it in his hand. “We followed the map to that spot out in the pumpkin field.”
“God damn it,” Hopper curses, waving his hand again. “Don’t you guys realize how unsafe that was?! You should have listened to Steve. You could have all died.”
His tone seems to set Mike off because he’s glowering at Hopper. “But we didn’t. We’re fine.”
Hopper quirks a brow at Mike’s attitude, but before he can say much else, Dustin’s continuing on.
“Well, we did set fire to the graveyard. And then Mike tripped and some vine-like thing was wrapping around his leg but Steve beat it with his bat. Oh, and we were almost eaten by Dart but-”
“Dustin,” Steve grits out, giving him a calculated stare. “That’s enough.”
“Is Will okay?” Mike’s next line of questioning turns the interrogation off himself and the other’s for the time being. He’s not sure if Nancy will scold him later. She usually doesn’t miss an opportunity to, but what he cares about right now is Will.
Joyce turns to smile at him, albeit wobbly. “Yeah.” She breathes. “Because of you. Because of all of you.”
Mike exhales in relief as he steps out of line to come by Will’s side. He falls beside his friend, sitting on the ground just so he can be near him. He reaches out, placing his hand on Will’s arm, and feels another sense of relief to have his best friend back. Joyce reaches out with her free hand, resting it on Mike’s shoulder and giving it a squeeze.
Max and Lucas share a smile, shifting an inch closer. They share the success, happy to be side by side and safe. There’s Billy they still have to worry about, but that’s for other times. For now, they’ll celebrate the fact that they’re still alive and well, and in each other’s company.
Jim’s got his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose again, worried about the mess they’ll have with Billy. Maybe he’ll plant him a few yards away, pretend this never happened. He could certainly use his status as chief to his advantage as well…
Dustin and Steve had their own quiet celebration, with Steve throwing his arm over Dustin’s shoulders and the two sharing quiet words. It felt nice that the two had one another. Dustin had someone to keep an eye on his back. He felt more protected with Steve around, and Steve felt less lonely.
Nancy moved away from Jonathan’s side to where Mike sat, falling beside her brother to wrap him into a hug. They held each other for awhile, breathing in and out while clutching hard onto one another. This is something they’ll always share, something they’ll always have no matter how grown up they get.
The sight brings a smile to Jonathan’s face. They’re family. No matter how messed up everything gets, no matter the loss they’ll face, Jonathan somehow knows that everyone in this room will be there. There’s a bond, something he feels deep in his bones, that they’ll share forever now. His mom is smiling, her arm now wrapped around Eleven who’s napping on her shoulder, and her hand resting on Will’s chest as he sleeps in her lap. There’s Nancy and Mike sitting near her feet, smiling and still holding on to one another. There’s Lucas, Dustin, and Max, that are grouped together as they converse, and even Jim who’s staring down at Billy’s body and scratching his beard. Jonathan can’t help but laugh at that as his eyes fall over to Steve.
Steve Harrington. Someone that Jonathan would have thought would be his enemy. Steve had really changed, Jonathan knows this. There’s a part of him that wants to thank Steve. Thank him for being a part of all this, because he knows that Steve’s actions in this big game they all had to play mattered. Steve’s another part of the puzzle that brought Will back.
“Steve,” Jonathan speaks up, garnering Steve’s attention. His warm brown eyes slide over to Jonathan, curious. “Come on,” Jonathan tilts his head towards the bathroom, stepping over Billy in the meantime. “Let me help you clean up.”
Steve lets out a light laugh, rolling his eyes, but he follows Jonathan down the hallway. They round the corner, finding themselves in the blue-tiled bathroom.
“Sit down.” Jonathan tells him, nodding in the vicinity of the bathtub. It’s short, but it’ll do. He grabs a few things out of the medicine cabinet, glad to see Steve’s reflection pass behind him and sit on the tub as Jonathan instructed. He grabs cotton balls, hydrogen peroxide, and a clean washcloth. He wets the cloth with warm water before he turns around.
Steve pulls the bandana off his neck and tucks it into his jacket pocket for the time being while Jonathan comes to kneel in front of him. His goggles are still on the top of his head, pushing his long hair back and out of his eyes.
Jonathan lets out a small chuckle as he puts some hydrogen peroxide on the cotton ball. “Nice goggles.”
“Oh,” Steve smirks softly at the mention. He grabs onto them, pulling them out of his hair and inspecting them once they lie in his hand. “The kids suggested it… I’m glad. That place was… it was... “ Steve seems to be a loss for words as his eyes go distant, staring down at the tile as he remembers the place he was only moments before.
Jonathan feels his lips turn down into a frown. He knew none of them would walk away like they were before. They’ll all walk away with this as a mental scar, always marring their thoughts when they least expect it. He can already see it in Steve’s distant eyes.
“Hey, it’s okay.” Jonathan tries to sound reassuring, but he fears his voice comes out too soft. He takes the goggles out of Steve’s hands, and if his fingers hesitate a moment longer neither of the two mention it. He places the goggles down on the ground before he returns to patching Steve up.
Jonathan stands a little straighter on his knees so he can try and match Steve’s height. Gingerly, he brings the cotton ball to Steve’s eyebrow, rubbing it against the cut he spots there. “So this Billy guy…” Jonathan trails off, quirking his head to the side.
“A dick.” Steve fills in for him. “You should have seen him grab Lucas. He pushed him right in the corner,” Steve’s seething as he remembers it, “with so much hatred. I don’t think he’s even talked to the kid. Billy’s just a racist piece of shit.”
“Did you get a few good hits in?” Jonathan ponders, getting another smirk from Steve. There’s something addictive about getting Steve’s mouth to curl up. Something addictive about getting Steve Harrington to smile.
“Yeah. Up until he hit me across the head with that plate.” The mention of the ailment causes Steve to bring his fingers up and graze against his scalp. Clearly it’s sore by the look on his face. “I’ll have to apologize to your mom for that one.”
Jonathan’s quick to push that off. “Don’t worry about it. I’m glad you were there for them.”
Steve’s eyes dart to Jonathan’s face, scanning his eyes for a second before they fall back to the tile. He gives a small nod, but their conversation comes to a halt for the time being.
Jonathan works in silence. By the time he’s got the cut clean in Steve’s brow, the cotton ball is too dirtied to be used elsewhere. Jonathan turns and chucks the cotton in the nearby trashcan before turning back around. When he does, he finds Steve’s teeth gnawing at his bottom lip, clearly in thought. Steve’s fingers also click against the side of the bathtub; an action that Steve doesn’t seem to be aware that he’s doing.
Jonathan doesn’t say anything as he hooks his forefinger under Steve’s chin and guides his face up. Steve’s tapping stops, and he stops chewing on his bottom lip as well. He only stares, watching with parted lips as Jonathan lifts the washcloth and dabs at the cut at the corner of his mouth.
“Is Will going to be okay?” Steve asks after a pause. Jonathan’s hand stutters for just a moment before returning to wiping the blood off Steve’s skin. It stains the light washcloth a dark brown.
“I think so.” Jonathan answers plainly. “It was hard. Seeing that thing. What it did to him. My little brother shouldn’t have to deal with that.”
“You’re right.” Steve agrees softly. “He’s a great kid though. If anyone can make it through this it’s him.”
Jonathan’s smiling, thinking about his brother’s strength. Steve is right. Will is the toughest kid Jonathan knows, and Will’s friends are close runner-ups. What’s been thrown at them, all of them, at such a young age is unfair. Yet these children are more capable than actual soldiers and scientists.
“Yeah,” Jonathan breathes as he uses his finger to tilt Steve’s head to the side. He goes to wipe at the edge of Steve’s jaw when he spots another band-aid. Jonathan’s careful as he pulls it away, watching as Steve winces slightly at the pull on his skin.
“You know,” Jonathan starts teasingly, “under any other circumstances this would be adorable.”
Steve barks out a laugh, but Jonathan’s hands are then ghosting against his skin, searching for the rest of the band-aids. He plans on removing them now before they get in his way again, but the only band-aids residing are the ones at the corner of Steve’s forehead. It’s as if Jonathan doesn’t realize how gentle his fingers are as he brushes Steve’s hair away from his face and proceeds on removing the bandages.
Steve’s breath hitches, but Jonathan doesn’t seem to notice. He turns and discards of the band-aids and returns to dabbing the washcloth against Steve’s skin. Jonathan’s eyes narrow with focus and his tongue even darts out against his bottom lip. He soon replaces the washcloth with a new cotton ball, doused in hydrogen peroxide.
Steve breathes as Jonathan’s wrist passes his mouth. A second later, the cotton ball is being pressed to his skin and Steve lets out a low hiss as he grabs onto Jonathan’s wrist. He grimaces as the stinging continues. It seems to bring out his headache, causing his brain to throb attentively.
“Sorry,” Jonathan breathes, dragging Steve’s eyes back to him.
The two stare, eyes wide and calculating as they try to gauge the strange moment. Jonathan had moved closer, and somehow Steve had never realized. The smaller man is almost between his legs, and his free hand has found purchase on Steve’s knee to keep himself from falling over. Steve’s also guilty, considering he hasn’t let go of Jonathan’s wrist yet. His grip has softened immensely, and he can’t help when his thumb trails along the inside of Jonathan’s wrist lightly.
Adrenaline. That’s what the two of them will blame it on later. The closeness, the proximity, the beating hearts. The fact that they’re both inching closer…
A knock comes at the door, unbearably loud in the silence the two had built up between them. They pull apart in a flash, as if the other was red hot fire threatening to burn. Seconds later, the door opens and Nancy steps in, glimpsing between the two.
“We’re going to take Billy to the station. Say that he assaulted you and Lucas. Hopper plans on jailing him overnight to make sure he doesn’t talk.” Nancy tells them, leaning back to rest her shoulder against the doorframe.
“Okay,” Jonathan answers with a weak smile. He gives her a nod, to which she returns with a smile and a nod of her own.
“Come and help clean up when you guys are done.” She chuckles lightly, turning to eye the drawings that were pasted along the walls. “I’m sure Joyce will be glad to get all of this off her walls.”
“Okay,” Jonathan repeats, resting back on his feet.
She smiles again before grabbing the doorknob and pulling the door shut again.
There’s a pause between both Jonathan and Steve, but finally Jonathan’s bold enough to press the cotton ball back to Steve’s cut. He winces, but he stays quiet, and he doesn’t grab for Jonathan again. They don’t say a word to each other for the rest of the time in the bathroom. Jonathan does as he said; he cleans Steve’s wounds, properly. When they’re done, he pushes his way up from the floor and starts to put the supplies back in the cabinet.
Steve gets up from the bathtub, glimpsing at Jonathan in the reflection of the mirror.
“Thanks,” Steve swallows around the sentiment, but he hopes his gratitude gets out clearly enough.
Jonathan gives him a shy smile in the mirror and a nod, so Steve takes that as his leave. He opens the door, steps out of the bathroom and helps the others start to clean up the rest of the home. Jonathan comes out a minute later, getting paper towels and Windex shoved into his hands by Dustin. Steve can’t help but smirk as he sees Jonathan take them and smile fondly at Dustin.
Steve glimpses away before he gets caught, but holds his smirk as he finds everyone in the home working hard. Eleven, Joyce, and Will have fallen asleep by now. Hopper’s doing his best at getting Billy off the floor, while Max and Lucas get rid of the needle and the sedative. Nancy and Mike are taking each drawn image off the wall with care, stacking them into small piles as they go.
“Come on, big guy,” Dustin says, waving a trash bag in front of Steve’s face. “Let’s clean up the kitchen.”
Steve rolls his eyes but reaches out and clamps his hands not Dustin’s shoulders. They make their way to the kitchen together and start to clean.
They’re all a little messed up. They’re all freaks. But they’ve become family, and Steve knows they’re going to be just fine.