Chapter Text
“Lemme get this straight,” Steve groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You want me to foster a kid?”
Joyce stared back at him from across his coffee table. “Yes,” she replied, her answer steady, conflicting with the hint of desperation in her eyes.
“Why?”
“I have literally no other options.”
“Harsh,” Steve said, almost absently as he leaned back into his couch, still reeling from the actual topic of conversation. What should he have expected when he opened his door to find his ex’s brother’s friend’s mother on his porch step? They barely knew each other, having only met a few times when Steve and Nance were babysitting Nance’s little brother and his friends. Nonetheless, Steve had beckoned her in, offered her a cup of coffee, and sat down with her before she actually made her request.
“I didn’t mean it like that.” Joyce pushed her bangs back from her forehead, taking another jittery sip of her coffee. “I’m just a little stressed right now.”
“Of course.” Steve waved it off. “I’m sorry. I meant to ask, why’d you come to me?”
“All other foster families in and around Hawkins aren’t willing or able to take in another child. And I want to keep him close, since-” Joyce paused mid-sentence. “Well, he means so much to Will and Mike and Lucas, and without each other, I don’t know what they’d do.”
“Wait, he’s one of the rugrats?” His term of endearment for the four boys Nancy would often call him over to help watch when they were still dating. He was surprisingly good at it.
“Dustin, yes. He’s lost his mother, and if I had to move him out of state, away from everything else he knows, well, I don’t think that would be very good for him.”
“Dustin. Curly hair, goofy smile, bends like Gumby?” Joyce finally cracked a hint of a smile at Steve’s blatant attempt to lighten up the conversation a bit.
“Yes, that’s him,” she said.
“How old is he again?”
“6 years. He turns seven in two weeks.”
“Holy shit. And he doesn’t have a dad?”
“He left the family years ago. We attempted to track him down once we heard about what happened to Dustin’s mother,” Joyce shrugged. “No results.”
“And Nance and Robin couldn’t do this? Or Jonathan?”
“None of them have the financial stability or space that you do.” It was true, Steve conceded. Nancy and Robin had just moved in with each other a couple months ago, but their apartment was small, cheap, so they could save for a bigger place together. Jonathan, admittedly, was focused on his academic pursuits. He’d worked hard his entire high school and college career for the opportunities that were finally opening up to him now. He’d put in months of time towards a goal that had once seemed so far off in the future to their high school selves, a degree in some sort of fancy field that flew out of Steve’s brain pretty much as soon as Jonathan brought it up. The important thing was that Jonathan definitely couldn’t afford either the time or money that raising a child as young as Dustin would require.
But Steve probably could. His income was nothing if not good, being a professional athlete, and he’d already set aside a large chunk of it for the future, just in case. With what was left over, he’d bought a mid-sized house with a couple extra bedrooms a year back. During his off season, which, luckily, had just swung in at full force a couple weeks ago, Steve pretty much had nothing to do, except keep his body in shape for the next season. Dustin could easily fit in here, and Steve would be able to afford all the attention a young boy would need.
There was definitely room for another person, and if Steve was being honest with himself, he didn’t completely mind the idea. The past year had found Steve sitting in his kitchen, reading the newspaper, swimming laps in his pool, idly scrolling through Netflix, going for long jogs in the woods behind his house. Sometimes he’d go for a beer with Jonathan, or meet up with Nancy and Robin on a short-lived double date with some one-night-stand he’d fuck and forget about, but besides that, most of his human interaction came from competitions and publicity tours, autograph sessions and the like. Someone else in this lonely house, someone who cared if Steve came home, who took up some of the space, that might be nice.
But as Steve thought about it, a slimy ball of anxiety coagulated in the pit of his stomach. Dustin was so small, and kids were fragile. What if Steve forgot something, or was too rough with him and hurt him? What if he got sick and Steve didn’t notice until too late?
Dustin also had that bone condition. Steve had only known because one night of babysitting, Dustin had gleefully touched his shoulders together for the express purpose of freaking out Steve, and Steve had fallen for it hook, line, and sinker, grabbing the kid and sprinting upstairs with him. Nancy had stopped him while he was shoving shoes on Dustin’s tiny feet, and once the situation was explained, nearly collapsed, both her and Dustin laughing their heads off.
Could Steve really help Dustin through this? Could he be there for him, act as a parent until a more permanent solution could be found? Brief babysitting stints was pretty much the extent of Steve’s experience with children. Was he even capable of this? God, he was gonna fuck this up so badly.
Steve shook his head. “This is a lot of responsibility.”
“I know I’m asking a lot from you, but-”
“No,” Steve cut her off. “I mean, do you think I can handle it?” Joyce’s slightly panicked expression eased, softened. A gentle smile slipped onto her face, and her eyes crinkled.
“Of course I think you can, Steve. I wouldn’t have asked if I thought you couldn’t. You’re a very capable young man.” Steve paused, his thoughts buffering. Then he let out a nervous laugh and ran his hand through his (admittedly gorgeous) hair.
“Alright,” he said. “Let’s give this a shot.”
…
“Wow, kid, you shot up like a weed!” Internally, Steve cringed. What a stupid thing to say.
Dustin only looked back at him from his porch steps, eyes wide, peering at him from under a baseball cap that read Easy as Pi on the front panel. In one hand was a suitcase. The other was tucked into Joyce’s much bigger fist. Dustin’s backpack hung from his shoulders. Joyce also held a carrier.
An animal carrier.
“Hold up, he’s got a pet?” Steve asked.
“A cat, actually,” Joyce corrected, leading Dustin inside and setting the carrier on the wooden floor. “This is Mews.” Dustin knelt by the carrier, sticking a finger through one of the air holes and cooing indecipherable gibberish at Mews.
Steve sidled over to Joyce. “You couldn’t have given me a little heads up? On the cat?” he whispered. Joyce shot him an apologetic glance.
“I just found out when I picked him up. He wouldn’t leave without her.” Steve sighed.
“Does she have a litter box and bowls or do I need to go pick that stuff up myself?” He had a cat now, it looked like. Might as well take care of it.
“It’s in the car.” Joyce pointed out the window to her minivan. “I’ll just pop out and grab it.” Before Steve could stop her, grab her arm, maybe get on his knees and beg her to stay, she was already out the door, leaving Steve with a probably traumatized nearly seven year old and a cat he just found out he had.
Helpless to do much else, Steve kneeled next to Dustin. “Do you want to let him out?” He asked.
“Her.”
“Huh?”
“Her,” Dustin said again. “Mews is a girl.”
“Sorry,” Steve said. “I’ll remember that. Do you wanna let her out?” Dustin shook his head, curls flopping in his eyes. He pushed them back with a grubby hand.
Joyce pushed the door open with her hip. Her arms were stuffed full of various cat paraphernalia. A litter box, feather wands, bowls, a scratching post, cans of wet food. Steve stood up to help her.
“No, no, I’m okay,” she said. “I’ve got it.” Steve backed off, closing the door for her instead. “I think this is everything. It’s a lot,” Joyce chuckled. “Claudia really loves-loved Mews.” Joyce’s eyes grew distant. Her face dropped, becoming distraught. Dustin wasn’t the only one suffering, Steve realized. Joyce and Claudia Henderson had been good friends, too, and the loss of someone so close had indeed affected her. She was pretending, hiding her pain to comfort Dustin. A brave act, but also a kind one. Dustin turned away from Mews’ carrier, looking at Joyce, a worried look in his eye.
“Do you wanna see your room, Dustin?” Steve asked, attempting to draw his attention away from Joyce. Dustin nodded, standing up and picking up Mews’ carrier. He frowned when it didn’t come with him, then pulled on its handle with both hands. The carrier just barely lifted itself up. “Here, let me help you.” Steve took the cat carrier from Dustin. “Follow me,” he said.
Dustin’s room was the second biggest bedroom. Its walls were a pale blue. There were two empty bookshelves on either side of a bed that was much too big for Dustin(Steve had ordered an age-appropriate mattress and bedframe, but it wasn’t supposed to arrive for another week). A large bay window overlooked the front yard. Steve had put a large toy chest at the base of the bed, but hadn’t known what sort of toys to fill it with, so it remained empty. A small door led to an attached bathroom.
“It’s big,” was Dustin’s only comment. He set his backpack down, unzipped it, and pulled out several large books, one at a time, stacking them on one of the bookshelves as he went. “And empty,” he added.
“You can fill it up,” Joyce said. “We’ll bring over your old things, and Steve will be able to get you some new stuff, too.”
Mews let out a meow from the carrier. “Let’s take her out now, okay?” Joyce asked. Dustin, preoccupied with unloading his backpack, nodded.
As soon as Steve clicked open the grate on the carrier, a ginger cat dashed out, coming to an abrupt stop when she realized there was almost nowhere to go. Mews slunk under the bed. Steve had never really had a pet before. Getting used to one was gonna be weird for him, at the very least.
“Well, that’s all for me!” Joyce clapped her hands together. “Normally, I’d stay a little longer, but I’ve got a lot of paperwork to catch up on, and I can trust you guys, right?”
Dustin paused his task to hug Joyce. “Hey there, buddy,” she spoke softly. “It’s gonna be okay.” He squeezed her tighter, then let go.
“Maybe Will can visit?” he asked, avoiding eye contact.
“Yes, of course,” Joyce reassured. “As long as it’s okay with Steve,” she amended. They both looked at him.
“Fine with me,” he said, because apparently they thought Steve might be so cruel as to not let this kid have playdates. “We can set something up later.” Joyce smiled big.
“There we go,” she told Dustin. “I’ll see you later, okay?”
“Okay,” Dustin mumbled, still looking down.
“Steve, I really can’t tell you how much this means to me,” Joyce pulled him aside. “I know you’re not used to being around kids, and that you weren’t really sure about doing this at all, but keeping Dustin near the people he knows love and care about him right now is essential to the eventual healing of his wounds, and you’re the only reason we can do that. Thank you so much.” Tears started to well up in her eyes, and Steve would be lying if he were to say he wasn’t a little misty-eyed himself. Before he could respond, Joyce pulled him into a tight hug. Stunned, he hugged her back.
“Alright,” Joyce said, pulling back and dabbing at her eyes with the back of her hand. She smiled weakly, red-eyed. “I’ll be back, probably in a few days to a week for the next check-in.” She waved, and walked down the hallway. Steve heard the front door open and shut. Her car started up and drove away.
Steve watched Dustin empty out his bags, putting the clothes in the closet, setting a small stuffed cat on the bed, and placing some plastic action figures inside the toy chest. Soon, both the suitcase and the backpack lay on the floor, flat and empty.
Steve picked one of his books off the shelf. “A Toddler’s Guide to Physics,” he read off the cover, taking a seat on the floor and leaning against the bedframe. “That’s pretty wild,” he told Dustin. “Never really got into physics, myself. Just the basics, you know. Drag, force, speed, all that fun stuff. It’s pretty useful in the pool.” Dustin, who’d been standing near the doorway, sat down next to Steve.
“You swim?” he asked.
“Yeah, I do. It’s my job, actually.”
“Then why aren’t you at your job right now?”
“The season finished. I have the summer off. I start again in September.” Dustin’s face, which had been melancholic and nervous since Steve had first beckoned him inside, gained its first hint of what looked like interest, even amazement.
“You get the summer off? But don’t you need money?” Dustin asked.
“I have it saved up from the competitions. Sometimes I’ll do ads and they pay me for that.”
“You’re in ads?”
“Yeah! Pretty cool, isn’t it?”
“Not as cool as physics,” Dustin said, a smug look on his tiny face. He took the book out of Steve’s hands. Steve felt too degraded to resist him.
“What a nerd,” he finally replied. Dustin only beamed at the endorsement, flipping through a few pages of his thick book before stacking it back on the shelf. “How many more books do you have?”
“Uh, I think 10 maybe? Not a lot more. The books I like are expensive, and Momma can’t, couldn’t-” Dustin corrected himself. “Couldn’t always afford them.” He whispered the last part of the sentence, slumping back against the bed frame. “I can’t believe she’s gone. Why is she gone?”
The tears were coming now, fast, hard, and nearly silent. It scared Steve a bit, how Dustin could cry so hard and make so little noise. He opened his arms, a little hesitant. After all, he wasn’t really the person Dustin wanted. But Dustin crawled into them regardless, clinging to Steve. Steve held him tight, letting him soak his t-shirt in his tears. There they sat, Steve patting Dustin’s back, Dustin weeping into his shoulder.
Mews, who hadn’t left the small space under the bed, stuck her muzzle out. Then her head, and the rest of her body followed. With a small meow, she rubbed her cheek on Dustin’s elbow.
Dustin’s shaking sobs grew a little less violent, and he pulled himself back from Steve’s shoulder. Mews looked back at him, perched only a foot or two away from the crying boy. Dustin stretched out a hand, which Mews heartily pushed her head into. Dustin let out a wet laugh.
Steve allowed the boy to reorient himself in his lap so that he could pick up Mews and pull her into his arms. Mews remained calm even as Dustin dragged her across the floor, going limp and even rumbling a throaty purr once Dustin started scratching her throat.
Steve sat there, with a kid and a cat in his lap. Eventually, Dustin, exhausted from crying, fell asleep, his head lolling back against Steve’s shoulder. The only sound was Mews, purring without end. Steve’s mind grew senseless from the lack of stimulation and he slipped into a vivid daydream. Taking Dustin to a favorite bakery of his, getting him to try their divine croissants. Afterwards, they’d go to a book store so he could fill up these shelves. They’d sit in the aisles, and Dustin would pull dozens of books on animals, engines, roller coasters, anything he wanted. They’d read a few, Dustin pointing out his favorite parts. Steve could get him a library card for anything that they didn’t have on hand. Then they’d have to make this room Dustin’s. Steve would have him pick out a bedspread, nightlight, maybe some posters to fill the room. They could get a few pillows for the bay window seat. The light filtering through it in the daytime spread itself around the room in gorgeous patterns, a perfect place to sit with a snack and a good book. Dustin would fit right in there.
The realization struck Steve over the head. He wanted Dustin here.
Yeah, he’d only been here for a couple hours, and yeah, they weren’t the best, in terms of emotional encounters. Dustin was still suffering the loss of his mother after all, and Steve would never be able to make that go away for him. There would be more days like today, where Dustin would long for something he couldn’t give him. But Steve didn’t mind that. The boy, the cat, the nerdiness, the tears, he wanted to keep it. He wanted to make a new home for Dustin. He chuckled a little, looking at Dustin’s cap. It wouldn’t be easy as pi, but it would be just as sweet.
God, he was such a sappy motherfucker.
His legs were numb, and he desperately had to pee, so once he just couldn’t bear it anymore, Steve slowly and awkwardly lifted Mews off of Dustin and set her on the floor. Then he cradled the six-year old in his arms and gradually stood up.
Dustin’s body was gently laid out on the bedspread. Steve pulled off his baseball cap, socks and shoes. Dustin muttered something, and curled onto his side, brown curls akimbo.
Mews hopped onto the bed and curled up against Dustin’s back. She began grooming her ear. Steve patted her head.
He shut the curtains, flicked off the lights, and quietly closed the door.