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The first few days after the Demodog Incident, as Dustin had taken to calling it, were tense. Everyone was on edge, jumping at anything that went bump in the night- or during the day, for that matter. Their little rag-tag group drew closer, tightly bound by their shared trauma. As a result, many of the kids and teens were shutting out the few other friends they’d had before everything. The others simply wouldn’t be able to understand why Steve now hated baseball, or why Nancy knew how to make a Molotov cocktail. It was easier, they realized, to throw up their walls, protecting the others from the true horrors of the world.
Instead of going out with his teammates after practice- Steve found himself picking up the kids from the arcade, or babysitting, or hanging out with his ex-girlfriend and her boyfriend- and weirdly, enjoying all of it. He could be real around them- a surprising luxury. And these kids genuinely liked him as he was- not as King Steve, but as the Steve who was showing Dustin how to shoot hoops, or the Steve who was giving Joyce unhelpful tips in the kitchen. He gave Max her first pair of Ray-Bans, to “block your eyes from the nerdiness” of the others. “You need cool lessons,” He informed her. “And I will be your guru.” She punched him in the shoulder. Hard.
But they also accepted the not so great parts- panic attacks, nightmares, gentle reminders about school, something that seemed so arbitrary when considering the bigger picture. He, Nancy and Jonathan relied on each other and their strange, new friendship to get through each day, each panic attack, and each stupid geography assignment. They made it easier.
Nights alone were a different story. Steve tried not to think about it too hard, but when his lights were out, and he was all alone in the house? He was fucking terrified. The bat lived under his bed, and, though he’d never admit it on the pain of death, he’d dug out the nightlight from when he was a kid, and plugged it in. Not that that helped the nightmares much. He’d lost count of the times he’d woken up with a bitten-off scream, sweaty and tangled in his sheets (pulling at him like vines), which he’d shove off in a panic. It wasn’t pretty.
“Do you think the kids are okay?” Nancy asked.
They were perched on the hood of Steve’s car outside the school, waiting for Jonathan to finish up in the darkroom. The chill of November had seeped through Steve’s jacket, and he had his hands balled up in fists, shoved in his pockets. “Uh. They seem to be doing fine?” He knew his response was lame, even without Nancy’s unimpressed expression.
“I can hear Mike talking to El every night. I can never tell which one had the nightmare, but they both sound so… tired.” She looked defeated. “We promised we’d never lie to each other, but he just isn’t talking to me at all. Keeps brushing it off as nothing.”
Steve blew out a sigh. “They shouldn’t be going through all this.”
“Neither should we.”
He gave a grunt of assent. “What about the others?”
The brunette shrugged. “I’m not exactly best friends with the kids, unlike some people,” She looked pointedly at him. “Who probably have more access than me, and would be more understanding and receptive-“
“Geez, okay, I get it.” Steve shoved his hair out of his face, glancing up to find Jonathan strolling towards them. “I’ll ask. Now get in the back, your boyfriend has shotgun.”
“What? Why?”
“Because he wasn’t telling me how to babysit. Shoo.”
—-
Dustin was initially hesitant to talk to Steve about how he was doing- their friendship was still new, and Steve could tell the kid still saw him as some sort of untouchable senior- practically royalty. But once Steve had disclosed some of his own struggles (Excluding the night light), the kid opened up more easily, explaining how they’ve been incorporating a lot of their experiences- and nightmares- into campaigns. “Sometimes, it’s better if we pretend it wasn’t real.”
They were at Dustin’s today, watching some nerdy movie Dustin had dug out of his VHS collection. “So, you’re doing okay?”
“We almost got eaten by literal hell beasts. Twice.” Dustin said, deadpan. “You tell me if we’re doing okay.” A flash of hurt appeared- a brief break in Steve’s usually unflappable demeanor, and the kid rushed to amend, “But we’re getting better every day. And I appreciate you checking in. But Max-” Dustin cut himself off, clapping a hand over his own mouth.
Steve sat up a little, intrigued. Despite his promise for cool lessons, he hadn’t had much of a chance to get to know the girl. But he sure as hell knew her asshole of a brother. “What about Max?”
Dustin made a conflicted sound.
“Dustin.”
The kid broke. “She hasn’t been sleeping, like, at all. Her parent’s aren’t ever home, and Billy’s always just around the corner being, well, Billy. All creepy and shit.”
Steve felt his stomach drop. “Has that asshole tried anything? I swear if he-“
“No, Max says he’s still kinda scared of her, but she doesn’t know how long that’ll last. It’s not like she has a spiked baseball bat on her at all times.”
Steve’s thoughts drifted to the weapon lying in wait under his bed. “I’ll keep an eye on her.” he decided aloud, surprising both Dustin and himself. It wasn’t like most of Steve’s life didn’t already involve the kids, but he and Max usually didn’t hang out one-on-one. He was still a little terrified of her after their midnight drive.
Dustin nodded in approval, reaching for the 3 Musketeers Bar he’d set aside. “Just don’t tell her I told you anything. She could murder me and have El make it look like an accident.”
Steve laughed so hard he nearly cried.
—-
“Steve? What are you doing? If my brother sees you here-“
“Well, then get in, little red. We’re gonna be late.”
Max’s eyes widened in disbelief. It was 7:30 am, Monday morning, and Steve was idling in his car outside of the Mayfield-Hargrove home. “Late?”
“For school? It’s Monday.”
“You’re driving me to school.” It came out as a flat statement, but Steve treated it like a question, because he was still a first grader inside.
“Great deduction, Sherlock. Now grab your bag- I don’t need another black eye from your darling brother.”
The girl huffed out a laugh, the winter air making the steam visible, showing it curl upwards to the cloudy sky. She was in and out of the house in a flash, sliding into the passenger seat in less than a minute. Steve wheeled around and pulled on the road, catching a glimpse of Billy watching them from the door, a murderous expression on his face. Steve beamed a grin in his direction and gave the guy a cheeky little wave. Max stared at him with wide eyes.
After driving in a comfortable silence for a minute, she murmured a quiet, “Thanks, Steve.” while staring out the window.
“Not a problem, kid. Betcha I’m better company than your previous ride, too.” He quipped. A faint smile crossed Max’s freckled face.
“Infinitely. But you’re still a dork.”
“Says the dweeb.”
—-
The kids had chosen Steve’s house for their most recent weekend D&D campaign, meaning the older boy was set up on chaperone duty, and checking to make sure their occasional screams weren’t getting-torn-apart-by-monsters screams. El and Max tagged along, but mostly just watched, as Max lost interest easily, and El didn’t play by the rules. They entertained themselves by distracting the boys while secretly moving the pieces around on the board.
Jonathan had stopped by for a few hours, and offered to study with Steve for the upcoming physics midterm. Nancy didn’t come up in conversation, but Steve had no doubt it had been her who put Jonathan up to it.
Awkward entrance aside, they’d ended up having a ton of fun over physics notes and beer. “By the sound of it, you’re gonna have the rugrats in your house for…” Jonathan paused, listening to the game going on in the other room. “Yikes, five more hours. Sure you don’t want me to hang around?”
Steve waved off the offer. “Nah, don’t worry about it. Don’t you have work, anyway?”
The other boy shrugged, ducking his head in embarrassment. “Yeah. I just… I know we don’t usually hang out without Nancy. I get it if it’s weird-”
“Nah, man, I’m not trying to get rid of you. You’re, well." Steve blew out a breath. "You're pretty good company, truth be told. And you have a mean right hook.” He smirked.
“I never really apologized for that.”
“Dude, I was a dick. Besides, not the worst beating I’ve received.” The scar on his jaw, compliments of Billy Hargrove, still hadn’t fully healed. He didn’t know that it would leave a permanent mark that his parents would despair over, and the kids would ooh and aah at.
Jonathan still had his head down. “Still, I… I’m sorry. That was shitty of me.” He glanced at his watch. “Okay, I actually do have to go, but my mom’ll be by at 6 to pick up Will.”
Steve walked him out, and told him to tell Nancy to stop pushing the two of them together. “We can plan our own playdates, Byers.”
Jonathan offered him a crooked smile, an almost playful look on his face, before sliding into his battered car and pulling onto the road.
Five hours later, the game was still going strong. The kids had only taken breaks for the bathroom, and the dinner Steve had practically force-fed them (“Don’t you dare spurn my spaghetti, little Wheeler.”).
He was finishing up in the kitchen when Max came in. “Hey there, little red. What’s up?”
Dagger eyes. “Don’t call me that.” She perched on a stool at the counter, watching as he cleaned.
Steve waved his dish towel at her. “Don’t use that tone with me, nerd,” He teased. He put away the last pot and leaned on the granite, cool against his water-warmed hands. “You guys almost done? Or are you all dungeoned-out? I can drop you off early.”
“Please don’t drop-“ Max cut herself off mid-blurt, quieting her panicked voice. “I mean, I’m not dungeoned out.” She amended in a measured tone. “I just came in to steal some cookies.”
Steve raised an eyebrow. “You don’t want to go home?” Max gave him a plaintive look. “Right. Dumb question.” He turned and pulled out the Chips Ahoy!, sending the container across the counter.
She gave the logo an unimpressed assessment. “Chips Ahoy? I’m disappointed, Harrington.”
Steve made a choked noise. “I’ll have you know that Chips Ahoy! is far superior to any cookie on the market.”
“Oreos?”
Checkmate. “Second only to Oreos.”
Max grinned, taking out a cookie and biting into it with relish.
Her earlier outburst had worried him, though. The laughter of the boys in the other room was such a contrast to the quiet solitude he usually came home to. As the girl turned to leave, Steve was struck with an idea. “Hey, Max?”
“Yeah?”
He hesitated, trying to word the next sentence correctly. “If you don’t feel comfortable or… or safe at home, you can always come here, you know that?” He offered her a half smile. “I still have that bat if Billy tries to mess with anyone.”
A number of expressions flitted across her face in a few seconds, before settling on just a touched, sad smile. “Thanks.” Now she was the one pausing, looking for the perfect phrase. “Billy is just…” She sighed, shoulders slumping as her guard finally dropped. How had he not noticed the circles under her eyes, or the way she seemed to curl inwardly on herself, even now, miles away from her brother, or monster, or threat. “He’s scared of me, but I’m still so much more afraid of him.” Her blue-green eyes were wide now, open and vulnerable. “I still think he’s gonna try to get back at me for that night.” Her bottom lip trembled. Steve was so not ready to deal with waterworks.
“Hey, hey, hey,” He rushed to lean down in front of her, awkwardly patting her on the arm. “You should not have to feel unsafe in your own house.” He said, all traces of teasing gone from his voice. “If you need a place to stay, or a place to escape, you can always come here. All of us, the boys, El, Hop, and Joyce, we’re all in this together. You can call me, or any of them, any time you need anything, whether it’s protection or a ride to the movies.” The surprise on her face nearly broke his heart. It occurred to him, not for the first time, that she may have not had terrific friends back in California. “We’re here for you. Because you’re our friend. And you’re totally tubular.”
She laughed then, a thin, watery laugh, but the smile didn’t go away. “Thanks, again.” She paused. “We don’t have to hug or anything, right?”
Steve scoffed, standing up. “I have a feeling neither of us are huggers. So, no. Now go feed the dragon slayers, or whatever they are.”
Max clutched the cookies tighter. “I heard something about a thessylhydra. The figurine is ugly as hell.” She started down the stairs.
“Oh, and Max?” The redhead stuck her head back in the kitchen. “Guest room is at the end of the hall, second floor. Press the button on the hinge to lock it from the inside.”
That small smile was all he needed to confirm that he’d made the right choice.