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When Steve first flinched away from her motherly touch, Joyce didn’t think that it was a big deal. After what happened, the action was completely acceptable, and wasn’t strange at all.
It was after El had closed the gate, Will had recovered, and the rest of the kids had arrived safely after they had lit the tunnels on fire. Hopper was very upset that they had left for the mission, but Dustin wasn’t taking it, claiming that it had “saved everyone’s life and they were too ashamed to admit it”.
As Hopper continued to chastise the children, Joyce’s gaze made its way to Steve, who was leaning against her counter, holding his head. He was bruised, bloodied, and carried himself with less grace than she thought imaginable for him.
“Hey.” She said softly, reaching out to gently touch his shoulder. His eyes flashed up from the counter and towards her, his left eye clouded with a bit of blood, and his whole being flinched away from her, his shoulder banging against the cupboard above him.
“Easy, honey.” She said, worry blooming in her heart. He must’ve been more hurt than she thought. “No one’s going to hurt you anymore, you’re safe now.”
He nodded shakily, but his eyes still reflected fear, fear that she has often seen in Will after he was trapped in the Upside Down. She didn’t have to wonder why. Not only did he have to protect the kids from Billy, getting horribly beaten in the process, but he faced hundreds of demo-dogs and vines, vines that were more deadly than they should’ve been. Of course he was on edge.
“Okay.” He managed to say, his voice weak, and she gestured to the couch, where Max and Lucas sat in silence.
“Do you need to sit down? You look like you’re going to pass out, hon.”
“Okay.” He said again, and she gave him a sad smile.
“I might need to look at your head, too, just to make sure you don’t need to go to the hospital.”
“Okay.”
Steve didn’t make any move to the couch, and instead chose to lean further back on the counter, closing his eyes.
Joyce didn’t know what to do. Something was clearly wrong, and someone had to take a look at his wounds. But she couldn’t touch him, not without scaring him.
This was a new experience for her. Her kids, especially Will, loved physical touch. If they were hurt, or scared, anything, they wanted a hug. A gentle pat on the shoulder. Now she couldn’t even take Steve’s hand and lead him to the couch. She didn’t want to risk him panicking, hurting himself even more.
Luckily, Dustin stepped in, walking over to Steve carefully and giving him a shaky smile.
“Hey, buddy, do you want to sit down? Mrs. Byers will help you feel better.”
The young boy’s voice seemed to break Steve out of his trance, the teen opening his brown eyes and looking at Dustin for a few seconds, as if determining if he was real or not. Finally, Steve nodded hesitantly. Dustin reached out and took Steve’s hand, gently leading him to the couch, where Steve melted into the cushions immediately. Dustin quickly grabbed a cloth with cold water on it, beginning to rub away the blood from Steve’s face. Steve muttered some complaints, but let Dustin do it, clearly comfortable with the boy sitting bedside him.
“It’s a good thing he trusts Dustin so much.” Hopper said gruffly, walking by her into the kitchen, and she tore her gaze away from the two boys, following Hopper. “The poor kid needs someone that he trusts, especially right now.”
“What do you mean? Everything with the Upside Down?”
Hopper’s brows furrowed in confusion. “You haven’t heard? His father’s in jail for abuse.”
Her breath hitched in her throat. “Abuse? Was…was Steve..?”
“Yeah. It was bad. He hates when people touch him now.”
Joyce gave Steve another nervous glance, wishing that she could've helped him now and then, her heart breaking with the knowledge that Steve wasn’t even safe in his own home.
She wanted to help him, but how could she?
Joyce knew that she would find a way. She always did.
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When Steve flinched away from her a second time, Joyce had no clue what was going on.
He stood outside of her house, by the door, soaking wet because of the rain, but Joyce could still tell that he was crying. She had reached out to him, forgetting what Hopper had said, hoping to bring him into a hug, and he flinched away, crying even more. He was shaking with suppressed sobs, and she gently encouraged him inside, not taking his hand but making sure that he knew that he was welcome. He stepped in hesitantly, his eyes wide and scared, and she let him take his time, not wanting to push him further than he could go.
“My…my mom…” He whispered, curling in on himself, and she waited for him patiently. “My mom yelled at me…she…she doesn’t…she doesn’t want me anymore.”
Joyce opened her mouth to say something, anything that would comfort him, her arms automatically raising in offering of a hug, and he stumbled into her arms, letting her wrap him in her comfort, and she rubbed his back soothingly.
“You’re safe now.” She said softly, “I promise.”
She hoped that the crying boy in her arms would believe it. She really hoped so. At that moment, nothing seemed more important than that hope, and she held him for as long as he needed.