Work Text:
Dear Steve,
You suck.
You suck because you made me realize how absolutely shitty Billy was to me.
When we first met, I remember watching you and Dustin, and I couldn’t stop feeling jealous. You hadn’t even known him for a full day, and the two of you were already acting like you were best friends. Like you were brothers.
I really didn’t understand why you were so concerned about us. Mike, okay, I got that, because you and Nancy were technically still together at that point, and Dustin had dragged you into everything, but you took care of me and Lucas like we were important to you.
When Billy showed up at the Byers’ house, I honestly didn’t think you’d do anything. He talked about you at home, you know? Talked about how annoying you were, or how much he hated you. You didn’t even know me, but you saw that I was scared, and you stepped outside to protect us. Dustin always told us that you sucked at fights, because you always lost, but you won that fight against Billy because you protected us.
You protected me.
I hate that you checked on me after that day.
I hate that you started driving me to school because Billy stopped.
I hate that you let me sleep over at your house when my house got to loud.
I hate that you understand how I feel, that you never pity me, that you always let me talk in my own time.
I hate myself because I should be sad that Billy’s dead. I should be sad, because he was somebody’s son, he was supposed to be my brother. And I was. I was sad, but I was also relieved, because I knew that we’d be safe now. I’d be safe, Lucas would be safe, and you’d be safe.
You’ve known me for maybe two years, and you treat me as more of a sister than Billy ever did.
You treat all of us like your siblings, and Dustin said you don’t have anyone around you, that your parents are dicks, so maybe it’s because of that, but you care so much, and sometimes I don’t understand why.
I don’t like getting sappy and emotional, Steve, and I can feel you assholes watching me while I’m writing. Lucas, Dustin, Mike, Will, El, they’re all getting letters because they’re my friends. We’re a team, the six of us, and that’s why I need to write to them. It’s a chance for me to actually say what I want to say without seeing their faces.
But your letter, Steve…
I wish I could tell you that I want you to be my brother.
I wish I could tell you that you’re the best thing to come out of this move to Hawkins (besides meeting Lucas, but if you tell him that, I’ll kill you).
I don’t have time to tell you all of this, and even if I did, I probably wouldn’t ever say this, but I needed you to know this.
To the boy I wish was my brother,
Thank you for being what Billy never was, for being there, and never acting like I was a burden.
Love,
the girl who wishes you were her real brother.
Holy shit.
Steve clutched Max’s letter in his hands, trying to keep himself from getting the paper wet with his tears.
It sometimes scared Steve how much he cared about his kids. He never imagined himself as an older brother, but he had clicked so easily with the group of children who were growing up way too fast. Lucas, Erica, Will, El, even Mike, they were his kids.
But Dustin and Max?
They were his siblings.
Dustin was his little brother, had been his brother ever since he basically kidnapped him outside of the Wheeler house.
And Max... the fiery redhead who exchanged amused barbs with him and the rest of their group...
After everything with Billy, the blonde had taken to conveniently “forgetting” to take Max with him to school. It took Dustin mentioning it twice to Steve for the former jock to start making Max’s house another stop on his school route.
The first time it had happened, Max had been sitting outside, and had given Steve one of her Looks, the look that said “if you tell anyone about this, you’re never going to hear the end of it”, the one that held a brief flash of gratitude and surprise before settling into her usual guarded mask.
Those quickly became Steve’s favorite mornings, when he had both of them in the car, and Dustin and Max would bicker over whoever got to sit shotgun next to Steve (he ended up making them switch off every time they were together, because he was pretty sure that one of them would end up shoving the other out of the car if things continued).
He started keeping their favorite tapes in the glovebox. Their favorite snacks were always stored in a small bag in the backseat. Papers and index cards from their classes littered the floor of the car, as did their pencils and pens from when their backpacks spilled.
Dustin and Max had completely taken over Steve’s life, two parasites with matching shit-eating grins and snarky remarks and cackling laughter all at his expense.
Steve loved them so much it hurt.
Which was why he had started taking up more and more silent vigils over Max when Lucas’ parents made him go home to shower and sleep in an actual bed.
He had a long conversation with Susan Mayfield that had ended up with Steve becoming Max’s main emergency contact, and the decision that Max would stay at Steve’s house for the time being when she woke up.
When.
Not if.
When.
Because Steve really, really did not want to think about the possibility of Max never waking up.
The redhead’s broken limbs had healed, though the doctors had informed Steve and Susan that there was a strong possibility of Max needing at the very least a cane to assist her walking. She had woken up a few times since then, brief moments that barely lasted past a minute or two, and Steve prayed to whoever was listening that the next time Max woke up, she would stay awake.
Steve sniffed and wiped at his eyes, quietly grateful that there was no one else around as he moved closer to Max’s bed, gently holding onto one of her hands.
“You’ve got to wake up, Maxie.” He whispered. “You have to wake up, because now I have to be the annoying, overprotective big brother that you fucking deserve.” He let out a small, wet laugh. “You, me, and Dustin, we’ve got our movie night coming up. I’ll bully Dustin into letting you choose the movie we watch, because you know that little shit would only watch Star Wars if we let him pick.” Taking a deep breath, because Steve was determined to not start crying again, he looked back down at the letter in his hand, rereading his little sister’s words over and over again, memorizing every single sentence.
“You weren’t supposed to read that, asshole.”
Steve’s head snapped up, meeting Max’s gaze, seeing her annoyance, but spotting the emotion and tinge of fear behind the guarded look.
Steve squeezed her hand gently. “Fuck you, I think I’m allowed to read your dramatic letter.”
“You were supposed to only read it if something happened to me.” Max shot back. Steve raised an eyebrow, holding out a hand to motion to her hospital-bound body, which, in turn, made the redhead snort.
He tapped the back of her hand as her eyes went unfocused for a moment. “You feeling okay?”
Max’s gaze settled back on him, and she nodded, wincing slightly at the movement. “Sore, but I’m okay right now.” Something settled in Steve’s chest, and the tension that had build up over the past weeks of waiting began to dissipate. Max noticed his relief, and tugged gently on his hand. “I want a hug.”
“Needy kids.” Steve huffed, but he obeyed the redhead nonetheless, moving from his chair to perch beside Max on the bed. He helped her to shift over, moving her as though she was made of the finest china, just enough so that she could curl up against Steve, resting her head against him as he wrapped his arms around her, his embrace firm, but not too firm.
“I meant what I said,” Max said, her voice almost a whisper, as though she was afraid to disturb their quiet moment.
Steve’s arms tightened slightly, a soft squeeze. “I know, kiddo.”
Max burrowed into Steve’s soft sweater, breathing in the scent that she associated with home and family and brother. “You still suck.”
“I love you too, Max.”
They both laughed quietly, and Steve kissed the top of Max’s head, running his fingers through her hair as he filled her in on everything that had happened since Vecna had attacked. The door to the hospital room suddenly opened, making the two tense out of habit, Steve sitting up to block Max from whatever was intruding on them.
They both relaxed as Dustin walked in, shoulders hunched and staring down at the packets of snacks in his hands
“Hey, Steve, the vending machines are pretty bare, but I managed to find…” The boy’s voice trailed off as he looked up, seeing Max wide-awake and leaning against Steve. “Holy shit!”
“Language.” Steve corrected, though there really was no heat in his voice.
Dustin rushed to the side of the bed, eyes looking over Max as though to reassure himself she was really, really okay.
“You look like hell.” Max snarked, settling back against Steve with a grin that wasn’t as sharp as it usually would be if things were normal.
“So do you.” Dustin shot back, but he was grinning far too widely for Max and Steve to take him seriously.
The trio settled into a comfortable silence, broken only by Dustin’s foot tapping on the ground as he fussed with the table beside Max’s bed. He set down the snacks he had found, going back every few seconds to shift them and adjust how they were laying, nervous energy buzzing.
Steve couldn’t stop the fond look that appeared on his face, and he made a small noise. Come here, kiddo.” Dustin stilled before glancing at Max, the girl rolling her as she let Steve scooch her closer to him, freeing up a small space on her other side.
Dustin eagerly bounded forward, climbing up on the bed carefully and curling into Max, holding onto her hand.
“You both had me fucking terrified.” The curly-haired kid muttered after a few minutes of silence. Max’s hand tightened around his, though her facial expression remained the same, quiet and pensive as she rested her head on Steve’s shoulder. “You’re like… the siblings I never had, and I thought I was going to lose you both.”
Steve reached behind Max to gently ruffle Dustin’s curls. “We’re not going anywhere, Dusty.”
“Yeah, not when we still have to meet your so-called girlfriend.” Max added, nudging him with a quiet giggle.
Dustin looked at them both, betrayal on his face. “Mike and Will literally went to her house and met her!”
A wicked smile appeared on Max’s face. “I’ll believe it when I see it, Dusty-buns.”
Dustin groaned, rolling his eyes at her use of the nickname. “I hate you so much.”
“Hate you too.” Max replied cheerfully, though Steve noticed that neither of his kids tried to move away from each other. If anything, they were clinging tighter to each other’s hand.
“Be nice, children.” He said with a small laugh.
“Yes, Mom.” Dustin and Max chirped in unison, giving Steve the identical shit-eating grins that he adored so very, very much as he tossed his head back against the pillows.
“Jesus Christ.”
They had gotten the news that Max was truly, actually awake via radio, Dustin screaming into the walkie and waking every member of the Party up in the middle of the night.
“Steve and I are with her tonight, but come tomorrow! Over!”
His excitement had infected the rest of the Party, and sure enough, as soon as they were able to, the group all made their way to the hospital, chattering excitedly. Lucas, understandably, was the most excited, his face bright and hopeful as he smiled and laughed with his friends, something that had been exceedingly rarer as Max’s time in the hospital had gone on.
With Max awake, it was only a matter of time before both she and Eddie were able to be released from the hospital, and everyone could officially return home.
They could go home, and celebrate that things were well and truly finished.
“We can probably get Steve to host a party at his house.” Lucas said as they approached Max’s room. “Just sic El on him.”
Nancy let out a surprised laugh as Will nodded in agreement, his face completely serious. “No on can resist El.”
“There’s Eddie!” Mike said excitedly.
The metalhead was sitting in a wheelchair in the entrance to Max’s room, a soft smile on his face as he looked inside.
“Morning, Eddie!” Robin said brightly, pausing when he hushed her quickly, eyes widening as he glanced at the Party. He waved a ring-clad hand frantically towards the group, and they joined him in the entrance to the room. Joyce let out a soft coo at the sight, and Jonathan’s hands were already reaching for the camera that he had brought to document Max’s reunion with the rest of her friends.
Max was in the center of the bed, fast asleep. Steve was beside her, arm wrapped protectively around her shoulders, and Dustin was in between them, moved further down on the bed so that his head rested on Max’s stomach, his limbs angled away from hers in a clear attempt to make sure he didn’t irritate her still-healing body. Max was curled up against Steve, one hand fisted in the soft green sweater he wore, and the other was resting on top of Dustin’s shoulder. Steve’s free arm was occupied by Dustin’s hand, the younger boy clearly having fallen asleep holding onto it.
Steve was awake, and his attention was completely on the two young teenagers still sleeping. His hand that was wrapped around Max was now drifting into her hair, gently combing through and ridding her hair of any small knots and tangles, brushing it away from her cheeks.
“Hey, guys.”
Dear Max,
I’m very determined that you never have to read this letter. Nonetheless, I think it’s a smart idea you had, writing letters for those “just in case” moments.
You said in your first letter that you didn’t understand why I protected you.
Yeah, I didn’t know you. I barely knew Dustin, Lucas, and Mike. But when I saw you kids in the junkyard, there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that I had to take care of you. You kids have been my responsibility since that day, and I don’t take that responsibility lightly. You’re my kids, and I’d do just about anything if it meant you were safe.
I always wanted siblings, and I know it’s kind of obvious between Dustin and I, but I’m going to tell you something I’ve never told anyone before.
I’ve always wanted a sister.
I’d ask Santa for a little sister every Christmas when I was a kid, it was my birthday wish every year, I just wanted to be a cool older brother. Maybe it’s because my parents were shit, maybe it’s because I just wanted company, I don’t know, honestly.
When I met you, it was like everything clicked.
Billy was an asshole. I’m sorry, Maxie, but he was the biggest asshole. And I’m glad you’re coming to terms with everything that happened. But to tell you the truth, kiddo, I was so, so insanely jealous whenever I saw Billy with you, or whenever the others talked about him.
Why did he get the coolest little sister?
How could he treat you like that?
How could he not realize how insanely lucky he was to have you?
When you sedated him, the first thing I thought was that “holy shit, this kid is so brave”, and I still think that.
Max, you drove your brother’s car with me unconscious in the backseat, not even a full day after finding out that there were another dimension beneath our town. You befriended El, and helped her learn how to be her own person, not dictated by Mike, or Hop, or anyone else. You stood up to Billy, protected your friends, and almost chopped his balls off (which I’m still pissed I was unconscious for that). You fought off fucking Vecna, on your own, without any music. You stood up to that fucker, looked him right in the eye, and you made it out.
But that’s not the bravest thing I’ve seen you do.
When I see you in the house, laughing with Dustin, when you let us help you around, when you tell me about your nightmares, when you let us hug you when you cry?
That's brave, Max.
So, to the girl who is my sister in every way that matters,
I'm so fucking proud of you, kiddo. You and Dustin are the best siblings I could ever ask for, and I’m going to make sure you know, every single day, how much I love you.
Love,
The boy who will always be your brother.