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Steve preferred to sleep during the day.
He wasn’t nocturnal, unfortunately. He had a job, and a litter of little shits, and just a life that was firmly daytime-oriented. But nights usually reminded Steve of monsters from another dimension, or Russian interrogation rooms, or Billy Hargrove beating the shit out of him. Nightlights didn’t help. But daylight traveled well throughout the Harrington residence, so Steve really preferred to catch as many hours as he could in the day.
Needless to say he wasn’t sleeping a whole lot, then.
He had learned that Robin’s presence was like a balm, they both slept best when they shared a bed (platonically, Dustin–with a capital P!), but as inattentive as her parents were, they weren’t Harrington-level inattentive, so she did have to occasionally stay at her own place.
Last night was one such night. But the stars had aligned, and Steve had a weekday off work, and at Robin’s insistence that she could get to school herself, and would only need a ride after school, that meant he had an entire day’s worth of time to catch up on his sleep before he’d have to pick her up. And Dustin, probably. And then it’d be an entire evening of mother-henning.
Steve closed his eyes, desperate to take advantage of his Steve time.
Naturally, that was when the doorbell started frantically ringing.
This person could definitely fuck off, Steve decided. Anyone that Steve would be expecting would be in school right now, which was maybe a bit pathetic, and everyone from Ms Byers to Mike Wheeler had a key, anyway. If it was the KGB, which that Murray guy warned him and Robin about when Steve drove him back to Illinois, then Steve probably shouldn’t answer the door, anyway. He doubted that Russian assassins would knock, though.
He was way too tired to care about any of that. His eyelids physically could not stay open for more than a few seconds at a time by now.
The knocking stopped, and Steve was finally free to drift off to sleep. Distantly, he heard the sound of a key unlocking the door, but he felt far too shitty to care about that. If a Demodog had a key and the ability to use doors, they deserved the kill.
Whoever this was, though, seemed hellbent on destroying Steve’s slumber. Because a few minutes later, Steve heard footsteps padding into his room, and a hesitant voice calling his name.
“OD, Robin.” Steve groggily called out.
That was code for when either him or Robin didn’t want to talk. An inside joke. Him and Robs spent a lot of time in comfortable silence, just enjoying one another's company, so it was hard to tell that kind of quiet apart from the broody leave me alone silence that they were both prone to once in a while.
“OD??! What the fu–” Steve heard, followed by a frantic dash to the bathroom. Not Robin, then. That wasn’t good. Probably. Steve once again tried to doze off.
This time, the mystery person splashed a cup of freezing cold water on his face. Steve shot out of bed, “what the shit??”
“What did you take?” asked the voice of a very worried Max Mayfield.
“A nap?”
“You look like shit and you just told me you overdosed!”
“Thanks, Mayfield. Y’know if I barged into your place when you were on two hours of sleep I don’t think you’d be too chipper,” Steve deadpanned.
He had hoped slipping into his usual sarcastic rapport with the girl would calm her down. Instead she crumpled into tears.
“Whoa, hey, hey. I’m okay, see?” Steve rushed to gather her into his arms, “I thought you were Robs. That’s a bit of a codeword for us. I didn’t take anything, I promise I’m okay, kiddo.”
Max was silent for a long while, just letting herself be held. That already felt worrying for Steve, “I don’t want to hear about your guys’ sex life.”
At least her sense of humor was still there?
“Not what I meant,” Steve never knew what to do when the kids insinuated him and Robin were a thing. He did know that he would die before outing her, but was it disrespectful to her to just let the kids have their theories? Was there some sort of magic answer he could give that wouldn’t result in a chorus of childish suuuure’s?
This time though, there was a more pressing issue at hand. Steve relished the opportunity.
“You’re always welcome here, Max. But you’ve never used that privilege at 6AM on a school day. What’s up? If you don’t mind me asking.”
Max tensed at that, “Nothing,” she said shakily, “I got all the way here and realized it was pretty stupid–”
“Hey, friends don’t lie. All that jazz. I wanna help, kid,” Max brightened a bit at the mention of El’s favorite phrase.
“I know it’s just, I was expecting to have the place to myself. Mom was meant to be out of town for some work thing, then she barges in with some guy. Guess she thought I was still asleep, or left for school already. And I… she doesn’t have the best track record with guys in the house. I just kinda freaked out, snuck out the window.”
Ah man. Steve knew Billy was an asshole, and from what little Max was willing to share, it sounded like Mr Hargrove had been even worse. Steve didn’t blame her at all for being wary of dudes. It felt important to Steve, that despite those scumbags being her point of reference for male adult figures, that she still trusted Steve so implicitly. That his place was where she ran away to.
“I understand,” Steve said. Not sure what more he could really add, “here. Let’s both get some rest. You have school soon, and I’d kill for a power nap right now.”
Steve started towards the guest room that Max had unofficially designated as hers, pausing when he realized the kid wasn’t following him. “All good, Red?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“Hey,” Steve realized he would be remiss if he didn’t at least offer an out, a way for her to go back home like nothing happened, “if you need, I can drive you back, talk to your mom for you, help you sneak inside. Whatever you want.”
Steve knew the words that came next. They still broke his heart.
“That’s ok. My mom won’t even notice I’m gone, and I feel safer here, anyhow.”
That was the crux of it, Steve knew. Why he cared for Max so much. He loved all the little shits to hell and back, quite literally, but they all had real adults and homes to go back to. Even Henderson had a mother that loved him, a caring home. Kid just imprinted on Steve because he felt like it.
But Max? Max had no one. Her mother was there, but not really, Max had told him once that she probably half-died when Billy did, and Mr Hargrove left in the fallout.
She reminded Steve of himself.
“Can I stay with you? I know rationally that my mom sleeping with some guy doesn’t mean shouting matches, and fighting, but I’m still kind of...”
She trailed off, vulnerability was hard for her, and Steve wasn’t gonna force it.
“Of course, kid. This way, then.”
Steve was gonna feel guilty about it, but he knew there was no way Max was going to school today. If Mad Max Mayfield of all people was rushing to his house at the crack of dawn and crying in his arms, there was no way she’d be in the state to deal with high school shit in a couple of hours.
Getting settled into bed took no time at all, mostly because Steve still felt like a zombie, and he was sure Max wasn’t fairing much better. She borrowed some of Robin’s clothes, which were really Steve’s old clothes, while Steve just made sure his afternoon alarm was still set and plopped back into bed. Max stole all the blankets and got settled on the other end of the bed.
“Mayfield.”
“Yeah?” Max replied groggily.
“We all have those radios, right? I want you to radio me if you ever need anything. I know my house is close, but I’d feel better picking you up instead of having you skateboarding at the break of dawn.”
“Kay,” Max replied, sounding every bit as desperate for sleep as Steve was. This was important though, so he pressed on.
“I mean it. I don’t care if you need a ride to the arcade, or it’s a silly nightmare, or you just want cash for a pizza," Steve continued seriously, "I’m the free chauffeur with the money, you gotta take advantage of that more often, kid. God knows Dustin does.”
She smiled at that, “G’night, Steve.”
Steve peeked out the window, the sunlight just beginning to glare through, “G’night.”
Nearly eight blessed hours of peaceful sleep later, Steve’s alarm went off, and it was time to go fetch Robin.
Way on the other side of the bed, all Steve saw was a hint of bright red waves peeking out of a mountain of pillows and blankets. Steve figured he should wake her up before going. He knew if he fell asleep next to Robs and woke up in an empty house again he’d probably freak out.
“Mayfield,” Steve said softly, nudging her awake.
Max groaned tiredly. She would punch him for it, but the kid was adorable when she was tired like this. No emotional walls, or sarcastic comments and scathing remarks to hide behind, and it became clear how young she actually was. “Don’t wake up, but I gotta go, pick up Robin from school.”
Blue eyes opened, and glared a hole through Steve’s skull from behind Max’s personal linen cocoon. Steve was almost impressed by how quickly she could go from asleep to murderous. “If I shouldn’t wake up, why did you wake me up?” she complained.
“Because I haven’t eaten in 20 hours. You want a happy meal or some shit on my way back?”
Max glared at him again.
Steve gave her his worst exaggerated glare back.
“Chicken nuggets,” Max grumbled. Openly displeased at asking for a kids’ meal.
“Sounds good. Catch another half hour of sleep while I’m gone, alright?”
“Lucas is collecting the transformers toys. ‘s’not for me.”
“I didn’t say anything.” Steve ruffled her hair, and started to get ready.
Steve threw on his jacket and got in his car a new man. His daylight theory was proven once again, and actually having another human being in the big empty house worked wonders for Steve’s sleep. He knew as soon as Robin got in the car, she’d make fun of his music selection and put one of her tapes in, which Steve didn’t mind. But for right now, he was definitely going to blare his Hall & Oates in peace while had the chance.
Steve only had to wait a few minutes in the parking lot, and like clockwork, the very first thing Robin did when she heard the music playing was grimace. She got buckled and instantly began searching for her own tapes while Steve drove off. Normally, the pair would sit in the lot and wait a few minutes, see if any of the shitheads needed a ride. But Steve already had one kid waiting on him today, so she took priority.
Robin examined the tapes she had in the car, and finally chose one to replace his music, “definitely enough of that. I love you, Steve, but I do not love how average your taste is.”
“You wound me, Robs.”
“And you love me anyway.”
“I do,” Steve smiled. “Also, word of warning; one of the nuggets is at my place right now,” Steve said, knowing she wouldn’t mind.
“On a school day? Weird,” Robin noted, “is it Red? She’s my favorite.”
“I thought Will was your favorite.”
“He is! But Max is so tiny, and she’s such an asshole. I want to be her when I grow up.”
“Two favorites and neither of them are Henderson,” Steve teased, “He’s gonna be heartbroken.”
“Well, wait–”
Robin turned to face him and was met with Steve’s shit-eating grin. “No way, mother hen!” Robin replied, “I’m not even close to as bad as you are!”
Steve just continued to give her knowing glances as he drove.
“Hey, speaking of nuggets…” Robin began.
“Way ahead of you there.”
The pair reached the McDonald’s, and Robin pouted when Steve parked in the lot. Whenever Steve took his merry little band through the drive-thru, everyone tried to stick their heads out the window and order their own food instead of letting him do it. Once, Dustin had somehow ended up practically in his lap even though he’d been sitting in the very back of the car, and ever since then it had been take-out orders only.
As they walked into the place, Roblin grumbled the entire way about how easily she could trip and crack her skull on the uneven concrete.
Steve only briefly considered reversing his drive-thru ban when she mentioned that.
Despite everyone (see, Dustin) always telling him how inconvenient takeout was, the process was very quick, and Steve was pretty sure the cashier only slightly wanted to murder them for how long it takes Robin to choose her order.
Robin coos when Steve orders Max’s happy meal.
When they got back home, Robin and Max's greeting was rushed with both girls more worried about the McDonald's that Steve sets on the table. Steve wasn't bluffing when he said he hadn't eaten in twenty hours, Max was probably in a similar boat. Robin was just a maniac for junk food. After wolfing her own food down, Steve was quickly in a full-on war to stop her from stealing his fries. He dipped a few fries in his milkshake, just to piss her off. When Max followed his lead with her own shake, Robin was horrified, "Look at the example you're setting for the children!"
"It tastes fine," Max shrugged."
"See?" Steve taunted, "it tastes fine."
Robin flips him off, and steals fries from Max the next time.
With lunch out of the way, Steve knew he would feel guilty if he let the kid skip school without at least doing some schoolwork to make up for it. Honestly, Steve wished he could have checked in with Max’s teachers to grab any new homework assignments she missed, though he didn’t think he could explain what he was doing there.
Yeah, I’m that dumbass that was in your class a few years ago. Does Max have any homework? No, I’m not related to her.
Max insisted that the only thing she had to catch up on was an English assignment, and so Steve set her up on the coffee table. Thankfully, Robin is a genius with anything language-related, Steve told her, and they’d be right behind her on the couch if she needed help.
So much for that, Steve thought. Not even twenty minutes later and Robin was napping against Steve’s chest, in front of them Max was working diligently on her English assignment.
Steve sometimes felt bad. He worried that how he behaved with Robin was probably like, confusing the impressionable teenagers on what intimacy and relationships were meant to look like. Cuddling and holding hands, and then laughing whenever someone insinuated they were together. But Steve had gone 18 years without an outlet for physical affection. Sue him.
If Steve’s parents had hugged him growing up, he sure as shit didn’t remember it. His leading theory was that the Harringtons had him because that’s simply what two successful married people did. When he was younger they tried to emulate things that their friends did for their kids, trips to Europe and all that. But the actual parenting shit? Comfort, affection, all that jazz, didn’t exist in the Harrington household. When he had turned 14 and showed no enthusiasm in following in Pops’ footsteps, even that was gone.
Then, from a minimum-wage job turned Russian Spy/Monster Movie, Steve had found Robin. Every bit as touch-starved as he was, and with some serious trauma-bonding to boot. By all means, the bond they shared didn’t make sense, even Steve had confused it for a crush before Robin came out to him.
She was his soulmate, though. Steve knew that. He didn’t care if nobody believed the Platonic part of it.
Max threw her homework sheet back, drawing Steve back to homework time.
“Do you guys know what type of irony this is?”
Steve took the offered paper and scanned over the passage in question, “Robs fell asleep, so you’ll be stuck with the stupid one,” he warned.
Robin poked him in the ribs, eyes still closed, “don’t talk about my friend like that.”
“Ow! Jesus, I thought you were asleep,” Robin had always been the one to make dumb jokes before, then as they grew closer and she learned more about dear Mr Harrington, she had dialed it back. Despite Steve’s insistence that he didn’t mind, nobody was allowed to make those jokes anymore. Even himself, evidently.
“Stop with that,” Robin chided, glaring at him warningly when he winked at Max, “seriously. I mean it.”
“Alright, alright. I will be nicer to myself,” Steve swore. Right hand in the air while he continued to read the page in his left, “can I help the kid with her homework now?”
Shit.
Steve hated English back in high school. He was pretty sure he remembered this one, though.
Steve snapped his fingers repeatedly, willing the words to come to him, “It’s situational irony! You expect Romeo and Juliet to have a happy ending, so when the total opposite happens, they call it situational irony. God, that’s dark.”
Robin hums beside him, so Steve hands the paper back to Max, who rolls her eyes at his whispered I still got it.
Thankfully, Max was able to power through the rest of her work on her own, which meant Robs got her nap, and Steve didn’t have to relive his high school days. He knew Robin would probably double-check it with Max later in the night, but it was nearing dinner time. Nance and the kids liked to tease him for it–such a mom--but Steve loved to cook. He had tried living off of pizza and frozen foods when his parents first started leaving him alone, and he knew he would probably lose his mind if he didn’t learn to love the kitchen. It was better now, that he was cooking for multiple people. There had always been a tinge of loneliness when he was scaling down recipes that said “serves 4” or, “feeds the entire family!”
Now he was cooking for his family. That made Steve happy.
Max and Robin were banned from the kitchen while Steve cooked. When he re-emerged a half hour later with bowls of spaghetti, the only words that were said were a couple sincere thank you’s. The trio were all dead silent while they ate, which Steve took as a compliment. Despite everyone having just eaten McDonald’s a few hours prior, dinner was a very quick affair.
Robin threw on some horror movie–Max’s pick tonight–and the trio all curled up on the big sectional sofa. Max cackled every time some scary shit happened, and Robin rattled off trivia and nerdy production facts about this actor or that special effect. Steve couldn’t even say what the movie was about, he was just soaking up all the life in this stupid, giant house. This place always felt so empty, even when he threw those giant parties, or he was shooting the shit with his old douchebag friends. But Robin was here, the kids were always flowing in and out, because they enjoyed his presence. Max went from looking like she’d seen a ghost this morning, to laughing and smiling like the kid she deserved to be, and Steve was a part of that.
Another babysitting success.
“Hey, Steve?”
The movie credits had ended an hour ago, and Steve could already tell everyone was gonna fall asleep on the couch, “yeah?”
“This morning sucked,” Max began, “but you were a huge help. And before you say you didn’t even do much… you were there. I’m still not really used to that, so thank you.”
“Of course, kiddo. Like I said,” Steve replied already half asleep, “anytime. Love you.”
Before Steve had the chance to frantically take it back lest he scared the kid off with emotions, Max was already replying through a yawn, “love you too.”
Robin sat up excitedly on her side of the couch and looked at him, grinning. I told you the kids loved you! Her eyes said.
Steve rolled his eyes. Yeah, yeah. He hated when Robin was right.
“Can you guys not do the mental-communication shit so loudly?” Max interrupted, “I’m trying to sleep.”
“Sorry,” Robin chuckled, “goodnight, Red.”
Steve was right. They did all doze off on the couch, though Steve put an alarm clock on the coffee table, Max was not missing two days of school. He knew his neck, and his internal clock-he might have slept more this one day than he had all week-would regret it tomorrow, but somehow Steve didn't mind