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All things considered, Steve Harrington considered himself pretty responsible. Sure, he was prone to skipping class and having a nail-studded baseball bat in the drunk of his car might not be the safest thing in the world, but he had won over the trust of the rag-tag group of kids he’d grown protective of. Their parents accepted Steve as a capable babysitter and to the delight of the kids, this meant many sleepovers and late nights under Steve’s supervision.
When Steve woke up coughing about half an hour before he was due to pick up Max, Will, Lucas and Dustin and bring them to Mike’s house for a Saturday night movie session, he knew this babysitting job would be particularly challenging. His head and sinuses ached with a passion and his stomach felt uneasy.
He groaned as he sat up, throwing on a jacket and staring at his reflection. His perfectly styled hair was much too fluffy for his liking and he looked like he had gone a few rounds with the demo-dogs and gotten his ass whooped.
Under any other circumstances, he would’ve said screw it and rolled back over to sleep for another century. But he had worked hard to gain the trust of both the kids and their parents, so he couldn’t just flake out. He did a quick sweep of the bathroom for medicine and, shocker, came up empty-handed. Not even a thermometer. A few steadying breaths later, Steve was behind the wheel in a quickly darkening December evening.
—
“Damn, Steve, what the hell happened to you?” Max greeted as she swung herself and her skateboard into the passenger seat. She quickly shut the door and rubbed her hands together to combat the cold and eyed Steve. He rolled his eyes at her signature bluntness.
“Hello to you too. You really know how to make a guy feel special,” Steve joked as the redhead continued to stare. “I’m fine.” He reassured. She obviously didn’t buy it but took the cue to shut up and let him drive.
Three stops later, he pulled into the Wheelers’ driveway with his passengers running into the house before he even put the car in park. He sniffed thickly, grabbing the last remaining napkin from his glovebox and cleared his nose the best he could. The cold weather was doing nothing for what he hoped was just a cold, but the longer he was awake, the more his muscles and joints ached and made him think he was started to get in over his head. He could do this, though. He had to.
—
When Steve finally made his way into the house, the kids had already picked a movie, dug into a pizza and cozied into the couches. They also, however, had evidently been informed by Max of how shitty he looked and wanted to see for themselves. Six pairs of eyes stared owlishly and Steve felt a little self conscious.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” he grunted as he flopped down on the couch next to Dustin. Most of the kids shrugged and turned their attention back to Star Wars and their pizza, but Dustin continued to look at his babysitter and friend.
“You look kinda sick, dude,” he whispered to Steve, who sighed and closed his eyes. He had been feeling progressively awful as he drove and now he felt his symptoms catching up with him.
“Yeah, I might be a little sick,” Steve croaked, and then buried his head in his elbow to release a string of painful sneezes. He settled deeper into the couch as he shivered, eyelashes fluttering closed. “I’m okay though Dustin, don’t worry about me. If I fall asleep, feel free to wake me up.”
“Sure, buddy. Sure,” Dustin said as Steve’s head lolled gently onto his shoulder, the older knocked out. Dustin could tell how tired Steve was and how his body desperately needed sleep, so he’d let him rest as long as he could.
—
Halfway through Jaws, Dustin was sweating. He couldn’t understand why he was so hot until Steve let out a series of whimpers and coughed in his sleep. Dustin became aware that Steve had turned into a space heater and a gentle hand to his forehead confirmed that he was burning up.
“Guys,” Dustin said, alarmed. “Steve’s really sick.” This got their attention. Mike paused the movie and they formed a semicircle around the flushed, shaking teen.
“My parents and Nancy aren’t going to be home until tomorrow afternoon,” Mike said, looking from Steve to his friends. “What should we do?” They sat in silence until Will spoke up.
“We could always call Jonathan,” he said quietly. “He’ll know what to do.” The kids thought silently, but the choice was clear. Steve needed some help.
—
One somewhat panicked phone call later, Jonathan was on his way to the Wheeler residence. Will hadn’t given many details, just that Steve wasn’t feeling well and that they really needed him to come and help. Jon was always ready to help Will; the poor kid had already been through too much, and now after the recent events, he was more than willing to help out the kids and Steve as well. They had be true friends for a while and had saved his little brother- he’d do whatever he could for them after that.
He entered the house and was greeted by a hug from Will and frantic yet relieved looks from the other kids. His eyes immediately went to Steve, who was laying on the couch under as many blankets as Lucas and Max could find while Dustin, Mike and Eleven had scoured the bathrooms for supplies.
Jon smiled at the kids’ attempts to help Steve, and went over to the couch to rouse him. He shook Steve’s shoulder gently and waited as he slowly blinked his eyes open.
“Hey, Harrington. Heard you weren’t feeling great.” he said softly. “Don’t worry, I got you.”
—
Steve slowly come into consciousness and was instantly greeted by pain. His head thumped to the beat of his heart, his stomach roiled, and every muscle screamed. He felt like crying, but the worried gaze of Jon and the kids kept him from doing so.
“Jon,” he croaked, “I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can watch the kids tonight.” He felt a hot tear roll down his cheek. He was letting everyone down. He had one job, some people that finally felt like family, and he was screwing it all up. He faintly heard Jon usher the kids into the basement and before he knew it, a warm hand sat him up. A thumb brushed the tears off his cheeks.
“You’re okay, Steve. I take care of Will all the time, so don’t even worry about it,” he said as he slipped a thermometer under Steve’s tongue. They waited until low beeps emitted from the device. Jon glanced at the reading, 102.7. He frowned, but he’d been cared for by his mom enough times and had cared for Will, so he knew that while Steve would feel miserable for a little, he’d survive.
Jon grabbed some Tylenol and poured as dose of flu medicine, but as he turned back to the couch, Steve was on his feet and down the hall, slamming to his knees in front of the hall bathroom toilet. He buried his head in the toilet bowl and convulsed as he puked. The kids chose this exact moment to come upstairs in search of more food and to check on their friend. They froze, however, when they heard Steve throwing up.
“Holy shit!” Dustin screeched, stepping into the doorway of the bathroom and rubbing Steve’s back as he curled around the porcelain. “Jon, is Steve dying?!” Eleven’s head snapped to Jon at this.
“Steve? Dying?” She looked both unsure and worried, obviously taking the term dying literally. Jon was quick to calm them.
“He’s not dying, guys, don’t worry. He’s pretty sick but he’s gonna be okay,” he looked between all of them. “You can help me take care of him if you guys promise to be gentle and not go too crazy.” They all nodded eagerly and scurried into the living room to make themselves useful.
Jon went into the bathroom where Dustin was fretting over Steve, who had finished puking but was still gagging emptily into the bowl. Jon winced in sympathy and wet a washcloth. He wiped Steve’s nose and mouth once he finished and was left miserably shivering around the toilet.
“Think you’re done?” he asked. Steve spit a few times and nodded. Dustin flushed the toilet and he and Jon helped Steve to his feet. They made a slow journey back to the couch, Steve unsteady on his feet as dizziness swirled his vision. He closed his eyes until he was lowered onto the couch. While he didn’t know how well they’d stay down, Steve swallowed the medicine Jon offered. Once he felt steady, he opened his eyes and took in the scene around him.
Mike and Eleven had set up an elaborate blanket fort for him, complete with pillows and extra blankets on the floor for everyone. Lucas and Max had poured him a glass of water with and made him a cup of tea without burning the kitchen down. Will had tracked down a bucket and some cold cloths. He settled into the nest on the couch, took small sips from the water and tea, and practically moaned in relief as Will placed the cool washcloth on his burning forehead.
They all settled in and looked at Steve expectantly as he rested his head on Jon’s lap. Steve felt tears come to his eyes again, but for a much different reason this time. Nobody had ever cared for him like this or had gone through all the trouble that these kids had to make him feel better. They shared glances worriedly. But, Steve broke his teary silence.
“I love you guys. You’re the closest thing I’ve ever had to a real family,” he croaked. Jon cracked a smile as the kids ‘aww’ed and rushed to hug the ailing teen. He felt like death, but with them, he knew he’d be alright.