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    Summary

    “It’s okay, Billy. You’re not in any danger. No one can hear us,” Harrington says, and something about his tone—it’s not right. It’s too calm. Too…what? Certain. It’s too certain. Steve Harrington doesn’t talk like that.

    He means to say are you fucking high?, but what comes out instead is, “Who are you?”

    “Would you believe me if I said I was your guardian angel?”

     

    My crack!fic take on Christmas '84 in Hawkins, Indiana, in the style of A Christmas Carol meets It's A Wonderful Life (plus lots of crack, did I mention the crack?), starring Billy Hargrove, Steve Harrington, and the world's worst guardian angel (seriously, just ask Billy).

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