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It was a month of honeymoon bliss with you and your now-boyfriend, Steve Harrington. The two of you spent as much time with each other as possible, basically joined at the hip since both of your jobs had caught on fire and neither of you had other responsibilities. He was incredibly thoughtful and attentive and you were devoted to him. It was like, finally after all this time, everything had fallen into place.
You should've known it would all come crashing down around you eventually.
It was the middle of August and the mental countdown clock had begun. It was only a week or so until you had to leave for school – officially moving onto off campus housing near Indiana Central College in Indianapolis. You'd secured a roommate you didn't know, a furnished apartment that wasn't too expensive, and a schedule of when you were allowed to move in.
Neither you nor Steve had talked about it. At all.
The last few days, it had hung over your head like a storm cloud, discoloring even the nicest, calmest moments of your day. It was that feeling of waiting for the inevitable shoe to drop, for the slap to hit. For the dream to end. You found yourself wondering if Steve could feel it too.
You'd distracted yourselves by planning a big dinner at his house. You'd be inviting everyone in the monster hunting squad that wasn't an adult, basically packing his house full of teens and preteens for a night that was bound to be one to remember. Every person you had called to invite instinctively referred to it as your going away party. You tried not to let the idea of that get to you, but after the 5th person, it was too late.
The idea of leaving. Of being left. Of saying goodbye. The fear and sadness settled itself in the marrow of your bones and began to fester into an endless pit in your stomach as the week progressed.
Steve noticed that something was bothering you but you brushed it off, not ready to talk about it. He looked conflicted every time but didn't want to push you. You wished he had.
He was patient and afraid of holding on too tight and scaring you off. You were terrified of being abandoned, pulling away to soften the blow of what you viewed as unavoidable. The two of you danced around the potential conflict like trained professionals; both of you skilled in the art of deflecting your own needs to help others. In this case, helping others was planning a dinner.
Much of the group hadn't seen each other since Hopper's funeral. Despite not having a body to bury, the mayor had still put together a service for him. It had been a shockingly sober affair, with most of the town showing up. Saying how brave and courageous he was, not even knowing the reality of what he’d died for. Between you and the others who knew, there was very little exchanged. Nods of acknowledgement when eye contact was made through the crowd. Knowing and loaded glances as the mayor gave his stupid little speech. You hadn’t missed when Max left halfway through, not looking back once. You’d been tempted to go after her but Lucas, who had been standing next to her, gave a small shake of his head. The message was clear. Let her go.
When the service was over, the two of you made a brisk getaway, Steve’s hand on your lower back to keep you close to him. You couldn’t help but think about Barb’s funeral, when Steve had given you a ride home. You’d been ready to swear off people for good then and he’d just wanted to feel like he could help someone. Was that really almost a year ago already? So much had changed.
So much had changed and you were desperate to feel like you were in control of something. So you would bring everyone together again, potentially for the first time since the Battle of Starcourt itself. What could go wrong?
When you walked down the stairs of Steve’s house and headed toward the kitchen, you were met with Steve’s back. He’d been ecstatic to be able to show off his newly refined cooking chops for the party and had already been slaving over the stove for a few hours. He had a light grey sweater tucked into his Levi’s, the sleeves pushed up as he worked. There was a kitchen towel strung over his shoulder that was already stained a bit pink from the red sauce he was working on. The domesticity of walking up on Steve, shuffling across the kitchen to cook in only his socks, made your heart burn.
You silently approached him from behind and looped your arms around his waist. “Oh, hey Rabbit,” his voice was dripping with affection as he rested one hand over yours, the other still studiously stirring a pot. You couldn’t see what he was doing, but could feel the adjustment of the strong muscles in his back as he worked.
“That smells good,” you offered, pressing your cheek into his shoulder blade.
“Thank you, baby.” You could hear the smile in his voice, his hand pressing against yours just a bit tighter. “Gotta live up to that mom title everyone seems so set on giving me.”
An amused snort left your nose. “Are you excited?”
He paused, his shoulders rising and falling in a deep breath. “Yeah,” he didn’t sound sure, “we’ve been planning this for a while now. It’ll be fun.” You released your grip, adjusting to lean against the counter next to the stove. You tried to look him in the eye but his gaze was locked on the food.
“What’s wrong?”
He sighed, adjusting the temperature on the burner as he turned to face you. “I dunno, it's just… All of us only ever come together when the world is ending.” You nodded slowly, leaning back on your palms. “And maybe this will break that trend, who knows. Just can’t shake this feeling that somethin’ bad is gonna happen.”
You knew the feeling all too well, but had a better idea what that something bad was. “Well,” you deflected, wanting to make him feel better, “if you’re convinced something bad is going to happen, we can try to control what it is. Like… Putting something gross in the food.” He wrinkled his nose in distaste. “Or making it so there’s nothing for anyone to drink but olive oil.” A slight smile grew on his face as he shook his head and focused back on his cooking, obviously amused. “Or we could get Robin to tell that story from band camp when that one kid pissed–”
“Woah okay!” He cut you off with a laugh, “No need to go that far.” You let his laugh wash over you, reveled in how quickly you’d been able to distract him from his misfortune telling. You wanted to smile and laugh with him. Go back to that light feeling you’d managed to latch on to for a few weeks. When everything bad had felt so far away, so out of reach.
When you tuned back into yourself, Steve was watching you carefully. He’d noticed that you’d gone away, mentally at least, and had that look that he always gave you when he was about to ask the question you used to love. What’s going through that big brain of yours, little Rabbit?
At first, it was so outstanding. Having someone who cared enough to even just ask what you were thinking about. What went through your head when you zoned out, when you smiled, when you cried. He genuinely wanted to know and you were so smitten with feeling wanted in that way. It baffled you how Steve could be so observant to changes in the people around him and yet so clueless about so many other things. Probably a childhood of needing to be hyper-observant of the behavior of others in order to survive.
You knew the feeling.
So when he opened his mouth to ask, you cut him off first. “Are we still on time to eat at 7? Is there anything you need my help with?”
His mouth closed tight, his lips pressing together in a moment of tension before he smiled at you again. “Still on track. If you wouldn’t mind cutting up the bread we bought earlier, that’d be awesome.” You nodded, leaning up to give him a kiss on the cheek before you went about the task he gave you. You worried maybe he would try to bring it up again but were internally grateful when he flipped on the radio above the sink instead.
Then everything was fine again. The two of you were singing along to the radio, preparing a big dinner for your friends. Flashing each other adoring smiles and getting closer than needed to reach for something near the other. Steve was still head chef, so you deferred to his instructions, muttering a very serious “yes, chef” whenever you could to make him laugh. And when ‘I Can’t Fight This Feeling’ came on, a new hit that had been all over the place since it was released this spring, Steve dropped everything to pull you into him. And the two of you danced to the whole song, singing along as loud as you could and spinning each other across the linoleum. You were both laughing your asses off as you stepped on each other's toes and spun the wrong ways and messed up the lyrics. The entire world was just you and Steve, dancing in the kitchen to the radio, kissing and singing and laughing. You would’ve stayed in that moment forever if you could.
But all moments have to end, and this one was interrupted by a loud knock at the door. His arm was still wrapped around you from where you stood dancing, you locked eyes. “I believe the guests are arriving, chef.”
“Shit, you distracted me from the pasta.” His eyes went wide as he released you and whirled back on the stove, scooping through the boiling water to check the damage. You muttered an apology as you made for the door, swiftly pulling it open in a dramatic fashion.
“Good evening,” you said in your best vampire tone, giving a subtle bow to the 3 boys at the door.
“Aren’t ladies supposed to curtsy?” Jonathan asked with a teasing smile, his hands in his pockets as he stood behind Dustin and Will.
“Since when has she ever been a lady?” Dustin asked him, as if it was obvious, earning him a flick on the forehead that he rubbed at while walking past you, Will giving you a silent low-five as he followed. You stopped Jonathan with a hand on his shoulder.
“Weren’t you also supposed to pick up Max?” You were immediately concerned when she hadn’t arrived with them.
“Uh, Dustin said we didn’t have to. That she had her own ride.” Your eyebrows drew together as you looked back out toward the street, the orange of the sunset starting to color the trees. “Do you want me to go back out?”
“No, that’s okay.” You smiled at him, shaking off your worry as you removed your hand. “I’ll just give her house a ring, make sure she’s still coming.” He returned the smile, a bit awkwardly, as he patted you twice on the shoulder and pushed past you toward where you could already hear Steve and Dustin talking excitedly in the kitchen. You hovered in the doorway a bit longer, looking out past where the road ended and the forest began. You’re not sure you’d ever be able to shake the feeling of something lurking out there. But you did what you had to do: you shut the door and went back inside to continue helping Steve set the table for dinner.
You recruited Will to assist you in silverware and plates while Dustin inspected Steve's continued work, asking endless questions and trying to undermine the head chef's authority. Jonathan already had a drink in his hand, silently getting his entertainment watching Steve get pissed off at Dustin.
Robin was the next to arrive. She stood at Steve's door with a small bag, ready to stay overnight as you'd promised. You waved to her dad in the car, who excitedly waved back before driving off. "Robin, your dad is so jolly. He's like Santa."
She rolled her eyes. "He would love that you think that. Come on, I'm starving." She took your arm and dragged you with her into the house, barely giving you a chance to shut the door before she was barrelling into the kitchen.
Jonathan jumped in surprise at her arrival, but she paid it no mind, zeroing in on where Steve was still arguing with Dustin over the sauce he was making. "No shit…" She said with a whistle of disbelief, getting everyone's attention as she looked at you. "You told me dingus was cooking but I thought you were kidding. I don't think I'm hungry anymore."
"Hey!" Steve cried as you hid a small laugh behind your hand. "I'm a great cook and you should be so lucky to be able to have some."
"You should be so lucky," she mocked, sounding high and mighty. "And where exactly is your apron, Mr. Mom?"
Steve opened his mouth to say something but paused to look down at himself, as if that was a good point. You extracted your arm from Robin and made the few steps over to him. "I was going to get him one that said 'Kiss the Cook' but I'm the only one who gets to do that." And you planted one on him on principle. He was barely able to contain his smile as he kissed you back, to a chorus of ‘Gross!’ ‘Get a room’ ‘I'm gonna lose my appetite’ from the peanut gallery behind. You pulled back with a wink before you told Robin where to throw her bag and went back to helping Will.
You'd just finished setting the table when there was another knock at the door. Jonathan, who was already near it having just come out of the hall bathroom, called out, "I've got it!"
Considering yourself the 'hostess' of this event, you started walking that way when you were basically tackled by Robin. She pushed you towards the empty side of the first floor, shushing your protests and questions until the two of you were safely behind a closed door.
Robin stood in between you and the door, fists on her hips. "Have you talked to him about it yet?"
"Talk about what?" You tried to say innocently, but the immediate tension in your entire body betrayed you.
She rolled her eyes. "The longer you wait, the worse it gets."
You suddenly felt like throwing up. "I mean, it's not like he doesn't know, right? He obviously knows I'm still going. If there was something to talk about, wouldn't he have tried to bring it up?"
"And where exactly would he have brought it up? Somewhere here; in your little lovey-dovey bubble of denial?" She motioned around the room but you could tell she meant the house. You wanted to retort, but couldn't. "The two of you have been living your little domestic fantasy in your empty houses and basically ignoring everyone else. Now something is bringing you both back to reality and you're both too chicken to even talk about it so you're just pretending it's not happening."
Your emotions were a jumble of shame, guilt, and defensive frustration as she continued to talk faster and more firmly. "We have not been ignoring anyone!"
"This is like the 3rd time I've seen you since Starcourt," she threw her hands up.
You crossed your arms over your chest. "Yeah, well seeing people and talking to people is kind of a 2 way street. And I didn't exactly hear anything from your side."
This caused her to deflate a bit. "Okay, you have a point there. And I'm sorry, I don't mean to… Be mean? I feel like maybe that was a little mean." You softly nodded, letting her know it had actually hurt your feelings. "I just… I feel like you guys are really good together, y'know? But you're both so worried about hurting each other that it's gonna end up hurting you both."
It hit you like a dagger through the chest. The self-fulfilling prophecy that you had written and now were acting out like a play. You were about to tell her she was right when you heard a crash across the house, both of you spinning toward the noise.
"We should probably go back to everyone else," you muttered, feeling utterly defeated.
She looked back towards you, her expression pinched in pain. "I didn't mean to make you upset, I don't want to ruin the night."
You took a deep breath and pulled up your practiced smile. The mask. "Don't worry about it," you looped your arm through hers and started pulling her back toward the door and out into the hall. "I appreciate your concern."
The two of you turned the corner toward the dining room and happened upon the scene. Lucas and Will were kneeling on the floor, using a hand broom to sweep up some broken glass. Steve was standing just behind them, a fist in his hair as he stared at the shards on the ground, visibly distressed. You let go of Robin and went straight toward him.
"Everything okay? What happened?" You asked, looking down at them in concern while resting a gentle hand on Steve's back.
Lucas winced at your voice and looked up to meet your eyes. "Accidentally elbowed a vase." His gaze flickered over to Steve. "I'm really sorry, man."
Steve seemed to barely notice the apology until you pressed your hand a bit firmer to his back. He then physically shook himself out, his hand dropping from his hair to his hip. "It's okay, dude. It happens. I'm sure they won't even notice it's gone." He offered a smile, and probably no one but you could tell it was only 90% genuine. He patted his hand in Lucas' shoulder before turning back toward the kitchen. You followed.
When you breached the linoleum, you saw Nancy and Jonathan talking in one corner, Dustin, Mike, and El in another. Steve walked straight to the stove without a word. "Hey guys," you got all of their attention, "we're almost ready to eat if you want to go sit down? We'll bring it out in a minute."
Seeming to realize they were being dismissed, they all filed out of the room, their conversations continuing. Steve was standing there, his body stick straight except his head, which was slightly hanging down.
"Hey," you said softly, wrapping your arms around him from behind just as you had earlier. "You okay?"
He heaved a sigh. "Yeah… If they notice it's gone then I'll have to figure something out, but maybe they won't."
"You can blame it on me?" You offered easily, using your grip around his torso to start rocking him side to side.
“No, wouldn’t help.” He sighed again, the tension in his body loosening as he started to move with you. “I guess we should probably serve all this food, yeah?”
“Actually, I need to call Max’s house. Make sure she’s still coming. She’s the only one not here. Other than Erica, but that’s because she said she is too cool for us.” You felt more than heard him let out an amused snort. Then his hands took yours, carefully unlatching your arms so he could turn in your grasp, and then placing them against his back. You smiled and stepped closer, pressing your entire body against his as he wrapped his arms around you too. “See? The bad thing has already happened.” You tried to reassure him, your face turned away. “Nothing to worry about anymore.”
He squeezed you tight for a moment before letting go. “I hope you’re right, Rabbit.” You leaned in to press a quick peck to his lips before you turned toward the phone in the kitchen. His hands remained on you for as long as they could, like he was reluctant to let you go.
“I’m always right,” you said, faking an abundance of confidence. This made him actually laugh, which earned a glare from you as you picked up the phone receiver. He raised his hands in defeat as he walked backwards out of the room and towards all the talking of your friends beyond.
You pressed in the number for the Hargrove house, one you had mostly memorized by now, and held it up to your ear. It rang enough times that you thought maybe no one was going to answer. Just before you moved the phone away from your ear, you heard it pick up.
“What do you want?”
Susan Hargrove was drunk. It took you about 1 second to figure that out. But that had been pretty business as usual for about a month now, unfortunately. “Hi Mrs. Hargrove,” you tried to put on your cheeriest voice. “I was wondering if Max was around?”
“Not here.” And you heard the phone shift like she was going to put it down.
“Wait!” You cried, and the only signal that she hadn’t already hung up was an answering grunt. “Do you happen to know where she is?”
“You think I don’t know where my own daughter is?” Her voice was cold as ice, her words slurred. She had immediately jumped on the defensive as soon as possible.
“No, no, of course not.” You rushed to placate her, the fingernails on your free hand pressing into your palm in anxiety. “I knew you knew where she was, and I was just hoping you would tell me?”
She made a low humming noise, as if considering whether she believed you. “She left on her bike about an hour ago. Said she wanted to go for a ride.”
You let out the smallest, quietest sigh of relief you could muster. “Thank you so much. I hope you have a good night!”
“Sure.” And she hung up. You put the receiver back on its hook and exhaled, pressing your hand against the wall as you let your head hang down.
Between the talk with Robin, the broken vase, Steve’s anxiety, and your growing concern for Max, there was a tight knot of tension growing in your chest. You wanted this to be fun. You wanted this to be a nice dinner for all of your friends. Where you could all just pretend everything was normal… That all of you were normal. It still could be that, as long as you silenced this monster in your head telling you everything was going wrong.
So you willed it down, grabbed the basket full of bread you’d cut, and waltzed out to the dining room pretending to be the person you wished you were. You cleared the corner and started making out more of what was going on. Robin was at the head of the table, her head thrown back in a laugh. Nancy was to her right, Jonathan beside Nancy. Will beside Jonathan, then Mike, then El. On Robin’s left there was an empty chair for you, beside Steve. Dustin and Lucas sat beyond Steve, a single spot at the end of the table ready for Max. You tried to ignore the icy feeling that empty chair gave you. Jonathan saw you first, pushing his chair back to stand like you were a judge. This got everyone else's attention as he rounded the table toward you. “Need help?”
“Here,” Steve got out of his seat too, taking the basket from your hands and setting it in the middle of the table. “Jonathan and I will serve, you sit down.” You wanted to protest but he was already pushing you down into your chair. He placed a light kiss on your head and then slapped Jonathan on the shoulder as they moved toward the kitchen.
“Where’s Max?” El asked, looking in your direction.
You grit your teeth. “I think she’s still on her way. She’ll hopefully be here soon.”
The conversations kicked back up, the younger talking amongst themselves while you, Nancy, and Robin leaned in toward each other.
“So,” Robin locked eyes with you, her hands steepled in front of her. “Who do you think would win in a fight, Steve or Jonathan?” You raised surprised eyebrows at her, then looked over to Nancy who was shaking her head.
“I’m telling you, they have already fought, and Jonathan won.” She sounded a bit proud of that fact, and you tried not to let your competitive side kick in.
Luckily, Robin was more than ready to jump to bat. “That was two years ago. Little Steve-o has taken quite a few beatings between now and then. And actually won a fight since then too. Has Jonathan?”
Nancy seemed to bristle a bit at that. “Well, the only things he’s fought since then were supernatural beings, which is hardly a fair measure.” Robin raised her hands as if that meant she had won.
“Both of your boys are big and strong, don’t worry.” You teased and Robin immediately scrunched up her nose in disgust when you referred to Steve as her boy.
“Not mine, all yours.” She shot back with a sharp grin, reminding you of the conversation you’d had shortly before. You tried to push it out of your mind.
“What’s yours?” Steve asked as he reappeared, reaching past you to place several large bowls on the table. Jonathan rounded the other side and began setting out food as well.
“You are.” You said simply, looking up at him. His answering smile was dazzling, his cheekbones blushing a light pink. He leaned down to give you a quick kiss, almost like he couldn’t help it, which made Robin groan. Then he settled down in his seat.
“Dig in, guys.” He announced, and you were surprised that the table actually had been waiting for his go ahead. It was a full spaghetti spread. A marinara sauce with meatballs and a mountain of pasta, along with lightly toasted bread and options for a little bit of cheese. You’d eaten the same meal quite a few times over the last two weeks from how many times Steve felt like he needed to practice. He’d really fallen in love with cooking but was still a bit insecure about whether or not he was good at it. He’d been very careful with his seasoning, the consistency of the sauce, and the tenderness of the meatballs. While it seemed like a relatively simple meal, he’d gone above and beyond to make it something wonderful.
All of the boys at the table immediately heaped their plates full, Mike almost instantly getting sauce on his shirt to El’s amusement. Steve started to fill your plate too, which made your face warm as you thanked him. The last person to reach for food was Robin, as if she was waiting for everyone else to confirm she wasn’t about to die before she ate some too.
Steve was immediately showered with compliments. How good it was, how surprised they were. Dustin adding a scathing comment or two about how it would’ve been worse if he hadn’t stepped in. Steve rolled his eyes affectionately and waved off the compliments, but you could see how happy it made him. A table full of people in his empty house, talking and joking and devouring food he had cooked himself. You knew how much that meant to him. Taking his hand under the table, he looked over at you as he weaved your fingers together. “You did amazing,” you said softly, only for him.
There was a bit of glassiness to his eyes, like he was holding back unexpected tears as he squeezed your hand. “Thank you, Rabbit.” You reached across for another piece of bread when there was a loud knock at the door.
Everyone in the room jolted. A small hush followed. The telltale sign of the shadow that waited in the dark, haunting corners and hiding behind doors. Lying in wait. That jumpy feeling that never quite left after going through the things you all had gone through.
You got up. “Must be Max,” you offered a smile, the rest of the table settling back into their dynamics. Your hand skated across Steve’s shoulders as you walked past and toward the front door. It was dark out now, you couldn’t see much through the windows. But the porch light was on, so you felt relatively safe as you opened the door.
There stood Max, as expected. Only she was more than a little worse for wear. One of the two braids in her hair was almost totally undone, some leaves and twigs stuck throughout. There were scrapes on her cheek and forehead, almost like road rash, and smudged dirt on her clothes. You could also see a rip in one of her sleeves, blood on the skin beneath.
“Holy shit, Max. Are you okay?” You stepped closer, your hand hovering over the wounds on her face as she turned away from your touch.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” She muttered, her eyes never meeting yours. It was blatantly obvious that she was lying but there were more pressing matters than what had happened.
“Here, come in, I’ll help you get cleaned up.” You waved her inside and she barely hesitated before nodding, like she accepted there was no use in fighting this. You closed and locked the door, then led her down the hall to the first floor bathroom. “Put the toilet seat down, I’ll go grab the first aid kit.” She did as told and you looked her over for a moment before you were able to tear yourself away to head for the kitchen. Sitting uncomfortably in the starkly lit bathroom, scraped skin and dirt under her fingernails, she looked so… Small. Defeated. You wanted to grab the kit as fast as you could.
You were crouched down in the kitchen, digging through the cabinet under the sink when there was a light knock on the wall leading to the dining room. A gesture you and Steve had taken to doing sometimes in order to warn the other you were entering the room. You’d scared each other one too many times and tried to avoid it now whenever possible. “Everything okay?” He asked after knocking, approaching you from behind.
“Yeah, s’fine. Is the first aid kit not under the sink anymore?” Your hands rested on your knees, convinced you’d search every corner of the surprisingly deep cabinet.
“Oh, no. I put it in the drawer under the microwave. Why? Is Max hurt?” His voice immediately shifted to one of concern as you pushed yourself up onto your feet and walked the few steps to pull the drawer open.
“Just a few scrapes, nothing to worry about. Go tell the others we’ll be there in a minute, okay?” You moved to walk past him but he placed a light hand on your arm to stop you.
“Are you sure? I can come help.” There was a deep crease in between his eyebrows from how they were drawn together in concern.
“Yeah, I’m sure.” You offered a small smile. “Go entertain our guests.” And you pulled away from his hold, making straight for the bathroom again.
Max was still right where you’d left her, but she had removed her torn overshirt. It gave you a better view of the slice across her right bicep, and more road rash along her right side. You shut the door behind you, set down the first aid kit on the counter, and then washed your hands before kneeling on the floor in front of her. Neither of you said a word as you got to work on her arm. The bleeding had already stopped, the blood you’d spotted before dried and crusting on her skin. You cleaned around the cut, then gently cleaned the rest of the rash on her arm, before bandaging what needed to be bandaged. It looked like her jeans were fine, and she hadn’t mentioned any wounds underneath them, nor could you see any blood. Brushing the undone braid, behind her, you looked over her shoulder to make sure there was nothing there to be taken care of before moving on to her face.
“What happened?” You asked, as you started to dap at the scrapes on her cheek bone.
She hissed in pain as you made contact, this absolutely more painful than the clean you’d done on her arm. “Fell on the way here. Not a big deal.”
“Hell of a fall,” you slightly shook your head as you reached for more clean gauze. “How fast were you going?”
“I dunno, fast,” she said dismissively, her eyes pinching closed in pain as you dabbed at her forehead. The scrape on her cheek wasn’t deep enough to warrant a bandage, but you placed a small one on her forehead.
You sat back on your heels and looked her over to make sure you hadn’t missed anything. Standing again, you helped her clean the debris out of her hair and undid the remaining braid. She moved to immediately leave, but you pushed her back down to sit, using your touch on her shoulders to turn her away from you. Brushing her hair back with your fingertips, you began to section her hair into a french braid.
“You should really be more careful.”
“Yeah, whatever,” you could almost hear her eyes roll.
“I mean it Max, you got away with scrapes this time but next time you could break something, or worse.” You said a bit more sternly, tightly folding her long red hair over itself.
“What are you, my mom?” She bit back defensively, hitting your right where it hurts. You took a few silent, measured breaths as you finished the bread and tied it off.
“No,” you answered, your voice soft as she turned back toward you. “Just someone who cares. And doesn’t like seeing you in pain.”
She blinked up at you for a few moments, her eyes owlishly wide. Like she hadn’t expected that answer at all. You smiled, offering your hand. “Come on, we have to get back before the boys eat all the food.”
Looking between your hand and your face for a moment, a small smile came to her face as she took your hand and let you lead her back to the table. They welcomed the 2 of you with borderline cheers as you reappeared. There was some discussion of Max’s bandages that she deflected as she settled down into her seat beside Lucas and across from El. El immediately started passing her food to fill her plate, which made her smile. You walked back over to your own, feeling a little bit lighter now.
That lasted about 5 minutes.
“So, have you decided what you’re going to major in yet?” Your eyes locked on Nancy from across the table, panic sliding down your spine. Her, having no idea anything was amiss yet, smiled as she continued. “You don’t have to know right now, obviously, just curious if you’ve picked one out already.”
Both sides of your face were red hot from the heavy weight of Steve and Robin’s eyes. You swallowed hard, your mouth suddenly feeling dry. Nancy looked between the 3 of you, ever observant, and immediately caught on that something wasn’t right. She opened her mouth again like she was going to try to damage control, but you interrupted her.
“I decided on nursing.” You announced, a bit louder than you intended, getting the attention of the rest of the table. More eyes on you, you cleared your throat as you maintained eye contact with Nancy. “The program at Indiana Central is pretty good and it’s something I think I’d like to do. I’m gonna major in nursing.”
She smiled brightly, the toe of her shoe lightly touching your shin under the table. “That’s amazing!” You glanced toward Robin, who was also beaming at you. “I think you’re going to be an amazing nurse.”
A few others at the table piped up to agree, joking around how having a nurse for a friend would really be helpful with how often everyone got beat up. You were blushing under their affection, your stomach filling with warmth as you took in how happy they were for you. It took you a second too long to realize Steve hadn’t said anything yet. You turned your head toward him and he was still staring at you. There was a small smile on his face but he looked so… conflicted. Like he wanted so badly to be happy for you but something was holding him back. You reached for his hand under the table again, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Hoping to communicate that the two of you could talk about it later.
“Well, as long as we’re making announcements.” Jonathan said, looking over at Will. Will pressed his mouth tight before giving a small nod. Jonathan then looked down at El, who didn’t make eye contact. He sighed and placed both of his hands on the table. “We’re moving.”
Dustin spat out the water he was sipping, getting some on Mike who immediately began to complain. All eyes were on Jonathan, wide and unbelieving. “What? Since when?” Nancy asked, almost turned full toward him in her chair.
“Mom told us on Monday,” Will answered for him, his eyes sad. “She already listed the house for sale. We’re going to California.”
Tense silence settled over the table, the news setting in. The Byers’ were moving, leaving Hawkins. Going almost to the opposite side of the country. Joyce, Jonathan, Will. The only kind of family you’d ever really had. And they were all leaving. It felt like a block of lead in your chest.
Mike whipped toward El. “You’re going with them?” He asked incredulously. She silently nodded, looking like a deer in headlights. “I can’t believe this!” He yelled, standing out of his chair and storming out of the room.
“Mike, please wait,” she ran after him, both of them going out into the yard.
Will was staring at his plate with dead eyes, his food half eaten. Jonathan and Nancy were locked in a stare off, as if they were telepathically communicating an argument. Dustin, Lucas, and Max were silent, also no longer eating. The tension in the room felt suffocating.
Robin had been the first to break the silence, jokingly asking if there was dessert to try to break some of the tenson. Dustin and Lucas immediately jumped in, talking about ice cream or cake or something, while you stared down at the table. Your thoughts were coming at you so fast that it quickly all just turned to static in your ears as you tried to breath through the sorrow gripping at your soul. This wasn’t how this was all supposed to happen. This wasn’t how this night was supposed to go.
Jonathan and Nancy excused themselves, barely able to keep their argument contained before closing themselves into the room Robin had dragged you into earlier.
Steve muttered something about starting to clean the dishes and you acted on autopilot. The remaining guests helped you and Steve clear the table, making a small mountain of dirty dishes next to the sink. You wordlessly tied your hair away from your face, rolling up your sleeves, and settling in front of the sink as you turn the water on to hot. Max, Dustin, Lucas, and Robin left the room, off to do who knows what, leaving you and Steve alone.
You could feel him more than you could hear him. He had barely said a word since your announcement at the table and now the silence was deafening. He was scooping leftovers into containers, putting things away while you dipped your hands into the burning hot, soapy water and began to scrub at the plates you’d all eaten off of.
“So,” he said suddenly, causing you to glance at him over your shoulder before you looked back to your task. “Nursing, huh? I didn’t know that you’d decided.” You couldn’t tell how he felt about it from his tone and it set you on edge.
“Yeah, we haven’t really had a chance to talk about it.” You agreed, knowing both of you had been actively avoiding talking about it. “I decided not too long ago. Just hadn’t really told anyone until now.”
“Well, everyone is right. You’re going to be the best nurse ever.” He sounded confident in that fact, if nothing else. A relieved smile grew on your face as you removed your hands from the water, turning your upper body toward him. He was leaning back against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest and a small smile on his face.
“Thank you, Steve. That means a lot.”
He waved off your thanks, as he often did, and you watched as his eyes immediately went unfocused off toward the side. The knot in your chest tightened again. “When, uh, when are you leaving?” He asked, not making eye contact.
It felt like dropping an anchor into glass. The dream – the bubble of denial, as Robin had called it – crashing to pieces in an instant.
“A week from today.”
His head whipped toward you, his eyes wide. “That’s really soon.” You just nodded, trying to keep your expression passive. “Why didn’t you say anything before?” He started to shift towards sounding hurt and you felt it like a knife.
Your voice was small and unsure when you said, “I thought you knew.”
“Well, I didn’t.” It came out more disappointed than anything and it made the monster in your chest scream out in agony. “I mean, do you have a plan for when you’re going to pack or what all you’re bringing? When are you coming back to Hawkins?”
“I don’t know.”
He dragged a hand through his hair in exasperation as he looked down at the floor between you. “I guess a little bit of warning would’ve been nice.”
Your eyebrows drew together in confusion. “You knew this was coming, I told you a long time ago that I was going to Indianapolis for school.”
“Yeah but, I dunno, maybe something happened or you could’ve changed your mind,” he sighed. “Why haven’t we talked about this before right now?”
The question of the hour. The one you were afraid to answer. “I don’t know.” You repeated again, fear taking hold.
He took a desperate step toward you, looking lost and confused. “I mean, there must have been a reason, right? Did you feel like you couldn’t tell me?” You froze, trying to figure out how to get this derailed train back on its tracks while Steve barrelled on ahead. “Why couldn’t you tell me?”
“I– I,” you stuttered, feeling painful tears pushing at the back of your eyes. “I was scared.” You admitted, your eyes desperately searching his for something to hold onto.
“Scared? Scared of what?” He pressed, taking another cautious step forward, as if you were a wild animal. Your heart pounded like one. “Did you think I was going to be mad?” He asked, and the question visibly pained him to think about. You rapidly shook your head no, breaking the intense eye contact you’d held for longer than you thought you could. “Then what is it? What did you think was going to happen?”
The lid you’d been keeping on the fear inside you exploded.
“I thought you were going to leave.” You said with finality. He froze in his place. “You were going to remember that I’m going away to school and everything would fall apart. Either you’d decide you didn’t want to do long distance and break up with me or we’d try to keep our relationship up but then you’d forget about me because I’m not around. And we’d go longer and longer without talking until both of us forget to call and then it’s like I don’t even exist anymore while your life goes on.”
“You don’t honestly believe that, do you?” Your mouth immediately pressed closed in a tight line, tears starting to collect at the bottom of your eyes. Your silence spoke volumes. “Oh my god, you do.”
“Steve–,” you started.
He interrupted. “So you’ve spent this entire time thinking our relationship had an expiration date. That it was inevitable that it would end.”
“It’s – it’s not like I wanted it too!” You felt a few of the tears break loose and track down your cheeks. “It’s just… It always happens, yknow? Like now the Byers are leaving and…” You rubbed your face hard in exasperation, frustrated at yourself and at him and at the world. “Everything always falls apart.”
“And you never stopped to think that maybe this could’ve been good? Maybe this would’ve been the thing that worked out?”
The monster inside tore and screamed and scrambled for purchase in the pit that became your stomach. “Steve, I didn’t–”
“Do you want to be with me?” He asked, his eyes pleading when they met yours.
“Of course, I do.” You answered without hesitation.
“Do you see a future with me?”
This one made you hesitate. “I’d like to, I just… It’s complicated.”
His face fell. “So the answer is no, you don’t see a future with me.”
You took a step toward him and he stepped back, keeping the distance. Your heart felt like it was tearing in two. “Fuck, it’s not that simple, Steve!”
“But it is!” He met your volume, causing you to flinch away from him. That made him deflate a bit, swallowing hard as his own eyes started to water. He exhaled harshly through his nose as he closed his eyes, a few of his own tears sliding out. “How about you just give me a call when you’re done self sabotaging anything that could potentially be good for you, okay?”
It hit you like a slap across the face. And watching him turn his back on you and walk away after saying it felt like your soul was being ripped out of your body.
He didn’t look back once.
As soon as you couldn’t hear his steps anymore, you slid down to the floor. With your back pressed against the cabinets and your arms wrapped tight around yourself, you sat on the floor in the dark and you cried.