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It’s when the world isn’t ending that things start to go badly.
And Steve’s aware of the irony of that, but he’s learned to just roll with the punches.
Adrenaline, he’s learned this the hard way, is the one fucking hell of a drug. He remembers the counselor at school explaining how fight or flight works, how people who’ve endured traumatic experiences can spend weeks or even years in fight or flight. And when their body finally comes out of it, it takes a while to adjust back to normal.
It’s when the world is in its suspicious tranquil state that he crashes from the events of the last few days; It’s when he’s left in a hospital room, alone.
The first thing he’s aware of is that the fluorescents are too bright.
It smells strongly of bleach and other cleaning chemicals. There’s faint voices coming from God knows where, and a quiet, steady beeping.
There’s something in his nose that loops around his ears and he hates the feeling. His head is pounding from the lights and the smells are making him nauseous and God, his sides are throbbing with a sharp, burning pain.
Groaning, he tries to sit up, but he’s dizzy and the wave of nausea that crashes over him isn’t helping.
He draws in a deep breath an attempt to abate the sick feeling crawling up his throat, and tries to remember how the hell he got here.
Right…
They’d gone to visit Max and make sure Lucas and Erica were okay after their encounter with Jason and the others. They’d been talking when Steve, unable to fight off the wooziness anymore, had collapsed.
Of course since they were in a hospital someone yelled for a nurse and, one thing leading to another, he was admitted.
Wincing, he moves into a sitting position and looks around the room.
His parents aren’t there.
Why would they be? They’d never been there for any of the other important things in his life, why would they start caring now?
Steve sighs heavily and slips out of bed, clutching his bandaged side and letting out a sound of pain.
There’s one window in the room, and all it reveals is a damaged Hawkins illuminated only by moonlight. The rubble is devastating to look at; It reminds him of all they’ve lost.
Of Eddie.
Max.
Steve contemplates for a minute, holding onto his bed for support.
He vaguely knows where her room is. He needs to move around anyway, needs to do something before he goes crazy.
It takes him a few minutes to remember exactly where Max’s room is, and even longer to be able to walk without falling over.
His pace is painstakingly slow and he’s surprised there are no nurses around to stop him.
There’s a clock on the wall that tells him it’s just past four in the morning, and he assumes that’s why there are no nurses around.
That or they’re dead. The earthquake killed them, Vecna, a demogorgon… Some weird shit is always going on in their town. And when weird shit happens, everyone just has to cope with the casualties.
No one asked for it. For innocent people to die simply because they lived in the wrong place on Earth. Because of an evil alternate dimension with all sorts of bizarre, murderous crap..
Max didn’t want this, Steve can safely assume. Yet she’s in a coma, each limb in a cast, fighting for her life.
Eddie, Steve can absolutely assume, wanted no part in all this. He hated being blamed for something he didn’t do—for the murders. And yet he’s dead.
We didn’t ask for this.
And yet here they are.
Eventually, he makes it to Max’s room and half-collapses in the chair by her bed with a wince.
“Hey, kid,” he whispers.
She’s so pale, so… lifeless. She looks so fragile. It’s vaguely funny in a sad sort of way because two days ago he would’ve never thought to use to word “fragile” to describe Max fucking Mayfield.
Two days ago he would’ve never thought that maybe this time some of them wouldn’t bounce back.
Maybe this last one hit too hard. Maybe repression can’t keep it in check this time.
Steve draws in a deep breath. “I don’t know if you can hear me, but here goes.
“This isn’t really going to make sense but this particular story starts when I was twelve. It was the day I got my first concussion.
“I was in a fight at school, but that’s kind of irrelevant. I’d hit my head so hard I thought I was dying. It felt worse than anything else I’d ever experienced before.
“I don’t know what you’re feeling right now, or if you can even feel or hear or see or really what the hell is going on, but… Keep fighting. You hear me? You are the strongest person I know, Max Mayfield.
“At twelve, you stood up to Billy when I couldn’t. At fourteen, you chose to risk your life for the safety of the rest of the world. And I fucking admire that.
“Sometimes…” He sighs. “Sometimes I wish in the past I’d been as brave as you, as strong. If I hadn’t…” Steve falters. “Maybe if I’d gotten out of those vines sooner, gotten to Vecna quicker… Maybe you wouldn’t be here right now.”
Steve pauses, the words I let you down hanging in between him and this broken girl.
To even think it, to even revisit all the shit that digs up, makes him feel sick.
Because at the end of the day he’s always letting someone down, isn’t he?
All the shit he did to Jonathan, all the kids he bullied because he thought it elevated him more. Everything he did to Nancy, everything he let Tommy and Carol say to her, do to her.
Barb.
Failing to protect the kids from Billy, failing to keep them from the tunnels.
Giving Dustin’s name to the Russians, not getting to Vecna fast enough. Max and Eddie.
The list goes on and on.
Because he’s basically Steve “The Failure” Harrington.
Everyone he loves, he hurts.
“Keep holding on,” he whispers to Max.
He’s too scared to hug her, let alone give her hand a gentle squeeze. He doesn’t know exactly what’s broken, so he doesn’t risk it.
Instead he goes back to his room.
I let you down.
The next time he opens his eyes, he’s greeted with a familiar sight.
“Dustin,” he murmurs, still half asleep and definitely feeling the effects from his trip to Max’s room.
The kid shoots up from his chair. “Holy shit, you’re awake!”
He wraps Steve in a hug, and Steve does his best not to groan.
But Dustin, ever the observant one, pulls back and frowns. “Did that hurt? Didn’t they give you pain medicine?”
“Are you supposed to be walking on that leg?” Steve deflects.
“No, but my crutches are over there. And you didn’t answer my question.”
He’s missed the little shit too much in the past day to be annoyed. “Dunno, guess the medicine wore off.”
Dustin frowns, but doesn’t press the matter. “Oh, I scored chocolate pudding from the cafeteria!”
He grabs a pudding cup from where he’d set it on the bedside table and holds it out to him.
Steve’s stomach turns over. “Eh, no thanks. You can have it.”
Dustin stares at him for a minute. “Okay then, more for me.”
He digs in, and Steve tries to avert his eyes because just the sight of it is making his stomach churn.
“So, how’s everything at the Henderson house?”
Steve quickly regrets his words, because Dustin deflates before his eyes.
“I’ve been at the Wheeler’s, actually,” he tells him quietly.
“Oh.” Steve hesitates. “Why?”
“My mom, um… she didn’t survive the earthquake."
Something is squeezing Steve’s chest and throat, and the tears in Dustin’s eyes are almost enough to make him cry.
First Eddie, now Mrs. Henderson?
Maybe repression can’t keep this one in check.
“But, hey, I’ll be fine. Some person came by and told me once things calm down here, I’ll be placed with a new family.”
“Like a family here?”
“I don’t think it’s a high probability. Everyone here is reeling from the events of the past few days, so…”
“But…” Steve is equally dumbfounded and terrified. “What about your other family? Is there no one who can take you?”
Dustin shrugs as if it isn’t a big deal. “They’re looking, but no, not really.”
Steve doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to quell the panic rising.
“Okay,” Steve says.
I can’t lose you too.
They sit in silence for a few minutes, before Dustin pipes up.
“I’ve been thinking about Eddie. About how he died to protect a town who… who hated him.” His voice breaks on the last syllable, full of emotion.
“I'm sorry. I know he meant a lot to you,” is all Steve can think to say. “And I know I haven’t really been here for you recently. I guess… Now that the world isn’t currently ending I can apologize for being such an asshole.”
“Hey, I’ve been one too,” Dustin points out.
“I know but…” Steve draws in a deep breath. “I know it sounds stupid, but when you started hanging out with Eddie, I guess I felt replaceable. And that’s not an excuse for acting like a dick, I just want to explain.
“I think I started being an asshole and you got defensive and it all went downhill from there. And I’m so sorry, I know that was the wrong reaction but I just couldn’t stop it I guess,” he mutters.
Something in me has to act shitty. Something in me has to push others away.
“Apology accepted. And… I’m sorry too. For making you feel like that, I mean.
“You’ve… been dating all these girls and I- I don’t know I guess I felt like you didn’t have time for me anymore. Like you didn’t want to make time for me.”
“Dustin, I never… All those girls I went out with, I never had one meaningful conversation or moment with them. And maybe it took me until now to realize it, but spending time with you is ten times better than any time spent with them. A thousand times better. I think I just needed to be dumb for a while to realize that.”
“So… are we good?”
“Yeah.” Steve can’t fight the smile that tugs at his lips.
Dustin breaks into a big smile, eyes crinkling up.
“So, are you doing okay?” Steve asks. “I know it’s been a shitty few days.”
Dustin nods. “It’s been rough, but I’m doing okay. I think… I guess part of me keeps forgetting…“ He pauses, taking a calming breath. “I keep forgetting they’re gone. Like I know they’re gone but sometimes there are just little things… Like I keep looking forward to going home or trying to think of ways to beat Eddie’s brutal campaigns.
“I feel like maybe…” His eyes turn glassy and suddenly tears are spilling down his cheeks. “A part of me died with them.”
Steve knows how that feels. Like the best part of him that used to come out around them is gone. And it isn’t repressed, it isn’t temporarily missing, it is well and truly gone. Dead.
“Come here so I can hug you,” Steve tells him after a moment.
Dustin gingerly puts his arms around Steve’s shoulders, ten times more careful than the first hug. He wraps his arms around the boy as he sobs into Steve’s shoulder.
“It’s okay, buddy.”
They stay like that for a few minutes. It’s heartbreaking to see Dustin so devastated; It’s such a painful contrast from his usual upbeat manner.
While still in the embrace, an idea hits Steve. He tries to think it through, tries to figure out how he’d explain it to his parents.
It could work.
“Hey, what if you stayed with me?” He suggests. “Of course when you’re eighteen I’ll kick you to the curb, you punk.”
Dustin pulls back, shocked. “This isn’t a practical joke, right?”
“Why would I joke about offering to let you stay with me, shithead?”
“Oh my god,” Dustin whispers. “Holy shit!”
“Yeah, ‘holy shit.’ I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he adds under his breath.
“Steve, thank you so much,” Dustin says solemnly. “I promise you will not regret this.”
“Don’t thank me yet, you haven’t even moved in.”
Yeah…
He’s going to regret this.
But the smile on Dustin’s face makes it worth it.
It’s been two weeks since Dustin moved in.
The little shit is annoying, but Steve loves him.
Steve had never really felt at home in the house before now. Something about Dustin being there, something about it being their home makes it feel safe, like comfort. Like refuge.
Steve wants to say he’s the same person as he was before, that they both are. But, for better or worse, it’s obvious that time has affected them.
The past few weeks, the past few months actually, have been like one whole huge identity crisis. Losing Eddie, Max going into a coma, it hasn’t helped.
Steve has always based his identity in the people around him. Tommy H. and Carol. Nancy. Robin. Dustin and Eddie. The kids.
Now that he’s on his own (minus Eddie, Carol, and Tommy, the others are still around, but he feels like he’s got to figure stuff out for himself) he’s trying to figure out who he is. Who he wants to be.
If he truly were to return to the same person as before, everything would be forfeit. He couldn’t go back, couldn’t undo three years of history. Of bonds with others.
He couldn’t go back. But he can’t exactly move forward.
The past few years of his life have been equally the worst and best. He’d lost Nancy, gained a family. He didn’t get accepted to college, but instead found his best friend through work. Maybe he didn’t need more relationships.
God only knows he’s dealt with enough pain and heartbreak to last a lifetime.
Between Nancy goddamn Wheeler and all the fights he’s gotten into, he’s starting to think that it’s not worth fighting for.
But some people are.
But not people that he knows he’s not going to spend the rest of his life with.
People like Dustin. Like Robin.
He feels torn. Like he’s standing on a borderline. He can’t decide; Does he move forward or crawl backwards?
He wants to move forward, but all the shit he’d have to face, to finally work through—It makes him wonder if fighting his way forward is worth it.
Eddie, he thinks, would’ve fought. Wouldn’t have run.
And so would Max. In fact, she was fighting right now. For her fucking life.
But maybe…
Maybe he isn’t as strong as they are. Maybe he just doesn’t have it in him. Maybe he’s destined to stay stuck; The rest of his life will pass, his friends will grow up and move on, and where will he be? Stuck between going forward and going back?
After all, who knows how long their apocalyptic world has left, how long any of them have them?
“Steve,” Dustin’s voice comes from the doorway. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, bud,” he forces a smile. “I’m alright.”
“So… I’m done with my homework.” Dustin tosses the information out there, and Steve is unsure if he’s asking to hang out with his friends or if he’s looking for something to do.
So Steve says, “Nice.”
Dustin hesitates. “I was thinking… we could do something? Hang out and watch a movie?”
Steve pulls himself up from his chair with a groan, sides throbbing. “I’ll scoop the ice cream if you get the popcorn.”
Dustin smiles wide, his eyes lighting up.
“But we’re not watching Ghostbusters.”
“Why not?” The kid questions as he follows Steve into the kitchen, a frown taking over his features.
“Because you have an obsession, and this is an intervention.”
“Steve—”
“No arguing!”
“STEEEEEVE—”
~*~
I’m standing on the borderline, what should I bring or leave behind? From who I was, to who I’m meant to be.
I’m a shadow of the past, the shadow of a boy. They said, “Son, don't change” and I keep hoping they won’t see how much I have.
I’d like to say I’m the same person as yesterday, nothing’s changed. But if I could return, all I’ve learned would be forfeit. I won’t go back.
I’m followed by the borderline as I pace forward in my life, seeking the times I’ll long for once they leave me.
- Excerpts of On The Borderline by Thomas Sanders