Work Text:
Steve’s mind is a loud buzz as he drives to Nancy’s house with Carol and Tommy talking in the backseat. He thinks they might be teasing him right now, but he doesn’t really care enough to listen, mind too focused on the girl he never thought he’d like as much as he does.
Steve is widely considered an idiot, and he knows that that’s not exactly wrong. He’s definitely not the brightest, but he’s never needed to be. And even he can tell that something is going on with Nancy, something serious. He doesn’t exactly see why it’s such a big deal. It’s Hawkins. The worst that could happen to Barb is that she runs into a drunk dipshit on the road, which clearly didn’t happen. But that doesn’t change the fact that Nancy is more than a little shaken.
Steve wants to apologize to her, at least. What he said to her about not telling the cops she was at his house… was more than a little distasteful. Whatever is happening, whatever Nancy’s truly worried about is more important. Honestly, he realizes that Nancy, in general, is more important than any stupid fight he and his parents might have.
Steve tells his friends to wait a bit and that they can head out if he doesn’t return in 20 minutes. Tommy gives him one more jab about being in love with the priss, and Steve clenches his jaw but doesn’t look back, climbing the roof with practiced ease.
Steve peers into Nancy’s window, which emanates the gentle light from her lamp. And he sees Nancy alone on her bed. She’s in a pair of blue pajamas that he’s seen a couple times, her hair damp and curly from a recent shower. It’s very… typical. But then Steve looks closer.
Nancy is hunched in on herself, and even from outside the window, he can see how tense she is. She wraps herself in a self-hug, and her posture doesn’t fit well with the robust, opinionated girl he knows. She reaches over to just beyond where Steve can see, grabbing something, a dark, striped sweater. She feels the fabric in her fingers, clutching it close. Steve doesn’t think he’s ever seen it before. Maybe it’s from Barb.
Steve’s heart aches, and before he can even consider what he’s doing, he knocks on the window. She may not be happy with him right now, but if he can offer some comfort, he’ll take whatever she wants to throw at him.
However, Steve doesn’t expect Nancy to bolt out of bed like a gunshot went off, clearly holding back a scream. His eyes widen as she sticks her hand under her pillow, pulling something out and aiming it steadily at her window. It takes Steve’s brain a moment to catch up with the fact that she’s aiming a pistol right at his face. The blood rushes out of his face, and his legs become jelly as he nearly tumbles off the roof.
Thankfully, Nancy doesn’t pull the trigger, quickly pointing the gun away and shoving it back under her pillow. She comes back, yanking the window open as Steve remains in shock.
“Steve! What the hell are you doing here?!” Nancy hisses, a crazed look in her eyes. Steve swallows thickly.
“I-I came to see you,” Steve says, “To check on you and… I’m glad I did.” He had no idea that Nancy had ever even touched a gun before, but she clearly knew how to wield the one she had. And if whatever’s happening has her scared enough to almost shoot him, he’s glad he’s with her.
“Thank you. Now leave,” Nancy responds, going to shut the window, but Steve shoves an arm inside, holding it open. Being closer now, he can hear how quiet the house is, the only sound other than them being the running shower down the hall.
“Wait, Nancy, please! Something is happening with you, and I want to know what.” Nancy hesitates for just a moment. “Please, Nance. I’m worried about you.” It’s a statement he would’ve never said in front of his friends, one that’s too pussy or gay, but it’s the truth.
“I can’t tell you,” Nancy whispers, voice hardened.
“Why?” Steve asks just as softly. “Nancy, I’ve never seen you like this. Did something happen…?”
“No,” Nancy answers a beat too late to be believable.
“Nancy, let me in.” Nancy’s eyes widen.
“No, you should leave,” Nancy says firmly, and Steve frowns even more.
“Nancy, why-”
“Just go-”
As Steve and Nancy try to speak over each other, the shower shuts off, and Nancy freezes, turning around to stare at her door.
“Shit,” she whispers. Steve is about to ask what’s wrong when her door suddenly clicks, opening with a soft creak. He’s expecting Mrs. Wheeler or maybe even Mike, neither of which is ideal, but he would’ve taken either of them over who he actually sees. Instead, Steve makes direct eye contact with Jonathan Fucking Byers.
Clearly, Jonathan had not expected him either, freshly showered in a black t-shirt and borrowed elastic shorts, carrying a pair of dirty-looking jeans. His eyes widen before narrowing into a glare. Steve’s blood boils as he draws the only reasonable conclusion he can.
“Steve, no!” Nancy whispers harshly, trying not to wake the rest of the house, but Steve ignores her, clambering into the window and dumping himself onto the floor of Nancy’s room. He swiftly stands, taking a few steps to close the distance between him and the pervert in his girlfriend’s bedroom. Steve grabs Jonathan by the shirt, shoving him harshly against the wooden door with a thud, the smaller boy’s hands coming to grab his wrists.
“What did you do to her?!” Steve accuses, keeping his voice low. As much as he’d like to inform Nancy’s parents of the intruder, he wants to enact justice himself first.
“I didn’t do anything!” Jonathan says back, glaring straight back at Steve.
“Bullshit!”
“Steve!” Nancy says again, roughly shoving herself between him and Jonathan. She isn’t messing around as she grabs his arms, nails digging into his skin, pushing him off of Byers. The sheer shock at her actions stuns Steve enough for Jonathan to kick him away, putting a bit more distance between them. Nancy plants herself directly in front of Jonathan, Staring down Steve like a matador stares down a bull.
“Steve, this isn’t what you think,” Nancy starts, and Steve scoffs.
“Really? I see my girlfriend scared out of her mind before the stalker who watched her is in her house, in her bedroom, and I’m not supposed to think anything of it?!”
“He was invited, ” Nancy retorts; the unheard and you weren’t rings loud and clear, and Steve falters but barrels on anyway.
“Nancy, whatever happened, you don’t have to listen to him-”
“Shut up, Steve!”
Steve opens his mouth and shuts it again, truly looking at them. Nancy hovers inches in front of Jonathan, and as pissed as she is, she is not scared. Not of Jonathan, at least. With a start, Steve truly realizes that he is the intruder. Nancy, for whatever reason, wants Jonathan here, and she doesn’t want Steve. And that hurts a lot more than he would have thought.
“Nancy…” Steve says again, suddenly frozen to the spot. He’s unsure if he wants to sprint away or take another chance at the other boy. Nancy softens, stepping closer.
“Steve, this isn’t what you think,” she repeats in a steadier voice. Jonathan is still glaring at him but nods in agreement. Steve desperately wants to believe them, but how can he when nothing else makes sense? Why is she so quick to forget what Jonathan did? They weren’t even close, so why is Jonathan what she wants and not him?
“Then what is it?”
“Nancy, don’t,” Jonathan whispers, and Steve’s instant is to snap something genuinely vile, but something stops him. Byers is scared. He hides it well, but his soft, almost quivering voice sells him out, especially considering how he has refused to step out from behind Nancy, eyes locked on Steve. But is he scared of Steve or something else?
“Jonathan, we have to,” Nancy presses.
“Why?” Jonathan fires back, his voice raising that much more frantic, “If this gets out, and they know that we know, then…” He swallows, trailing off, but Nancy seems to understand his point.
“I know,” she says, “But you saw it too. You know that we’ll need all the help we can to kill it.” Steve’s heart jumps at the word kill.
“Nancy…”
“No one else will find out,” she soothes before turning to Steve, absolutely grave. “Do you understand?”
“Sure, sure,” Steve mutters, somehow more concerned than ever.
“I fucking mean it, Steve,” Nancy presses, “This is life and death. No one will know.”
“I won’t tell anyone, I swear,” Steve says, swallowing, unsure if he just signed his soul away. “I just want to help you.” She shares one last look with Jonathan before walking over and sitting on her bed.
“We were in the woods looking for a monster,” Nancy says, and Steve can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of him.
“Nancy, be serious,” Steve scolds playfully.
“She is,” Jonathan shoots him down, Steve’s grin falling.
“What do you mean?”
“There’s a monster. It took Barb, and it took Will,” Jonathan continues, stepping closer to Steve, seeming to stare into his soul. Nancy watches him with an unflinching gaze.
“Like monster as in a ‘terrible person’?” Steve asks, and Nancy shakes her head.
“A monster from another world that looks like ours but is cold and… wrong,” she explains, choosing her words carefully, “It’s tall, almost human-like, but it doesn’t have a face. It can disappear and reappear at will, and it seems to be able to track people somehow.”
Steve, for once in his life, is speechless. A monster without a face? There’s no way, but Nancy and Jonathan clearly believe what they’re saying. And Nancy is the least superstitious person Steve knows, thinking there’s a logical explanation for anything.
“What? There’s no way…” Steve mumbles weakly. Jonathan turns, going to a backpack sitting next to Nancy’s closet as he speaks.
“My mom saw it too; she said it was coming through the wall. I managed to get a picture of it.” He pulls out a piece of paper, handing it to Steve. The taller boy takes it, looking it over. It’s of their party, of Barb, sitting sadly on the diving board of his pool, clutching her injured hand. Right behind her is an uncanny monster, exactly how they described it, a hole where its face should be. His breath catches.
“This… this is real?” Steve asks. Jonathan nods.
“There’s no way the camera could’ve messed up like that. When I was… there, I saw her, and I looked down for a split second. I thought I heard something, and I looked up, and she was just… gone.”
“And you think she’s in that other world?”
“I know she is,” Nancy presses, “Will might be too, or he was, maybe. I was in it for a little while, and it’s… not hospitable.”
“You were in there?!” Steve bursts out, quickly being shushed by the other two. Nancy wordlessly grabs a trashbag that contains clothes covered in slime and dirt.
“There was a portal in a tree, and I went in. I nearly got trapped in there with the monster. If Jonathan hadn’t been there to pull me out…” she trails off, but her meaning is clear. Steve swallows thickly as it hits him. His girlfriend almost died. The girl he loves was inches away from being snubbed out, with their last real interaction being their fight.
“Thank you,” Steve says to Jonathan, and he means it. The other boy blinks, caught off guard, before nodding and glancing away. “But why were you guys out there at all? You couldn’t have told someone?”
“Who would have believed us? You?” Jonathan fires back. “My mom is the only other person we know who has seen it, and half the town thinks she’s insane.”
“I saw it at your house,” Nancy chimes in, “I went back to look for Barb, remember? And I thought I saw a man.” Steve winches as she continues, “I pieced together the picture you tore up and saw it, so I went to the person who could maybe tell me what that was.” She nods towards Jonathan, “Turns out I found the only person even willing to listen to me too.”
“Nance, I’m sorry,” Steve says, “I came to apologize, actually. Brushing off Barb was shitty even before this. ” Nancy softens a bit, nodding in acknowledgment. He then turns towards Jonathan. “Don’t think I even remotely approve of what you did, but… thanks for looking out for her.”
“Of course,” Jonathan says, with a shrug, “If it means anything, I really was looking for my brother when I found your party. I… I shouldn’t have taken those pictures, but I didn’t mean anything bad. I just… It felt like I was there and more real, and I didn’t even think about it.” Steve observes Jonathan for a long moment.
“That’s pretty weird, man, but I guess it fits,” Steve says with a shrug, “And I guess it was shitty of me to break your camera for it.”
“You were protecting Nancy,” Jonathan says simply, and Steve hadn’t expected Byers to defend him, briefly throwing him.
“I was, but I could’ve gone about it better or considered that your fucking brother was missing.”
“Is.”
“What?”
“My brother is missing. Or… that’s what my mom thinks.” Steve blinks.
“There was a funeral…”
“She thinks the body is fake,” Jonathan says, sighing, “I saw it, and… I don’t agree,” he shudders, swallowing thickly, and Steve quickly decides never to bring that up again. “But with the people saying how Barb ran away and the government agents lurking around, it’s clear they’re covering up something.”
“I… at this point, I’ll believe anything,” Steve sighs, and Nancy lets out a small huff of laughter. “So, what’s the plan?”
“We’re going to kill it,” Nancy says promptly, “And the more hands to help, the better.”
“Alright, but please don’t aim the guns at me again.”
“What?” Jonathan mumbles, eyebrow rising.
“I knocked on the window, and she almost shot me in the face with her pistol.” Steve levels a look at Nancy, who smiles innocently.
“It’s actually my gun,” Jonathan remarks, “Or… I stole it out of my dad’s car at the funeral, but she’s a much better shot than me, so she’s keeping it. We’re going to get more supplies later.” Nancy almost preens at Jonathan’s praise of her abilities.
“But I wasn’t the one to pick the lock to get into the glovebox,” she points out playfully.
“You can pick locks?” Steve asks, almost in awe.
“Since I was 9,” Jonathan confirms, “Dad used to lock our toys in his car or the closet sometimes. One time he locked all of Will’s art supplies in his trunk, so I got it back.” Jonathan pauses for a second, “I actually picked a locker for a kid once at school who forgot his combo, and I think that’s why they say I’m a thief,” Jonathan jokes wryly, and Steve snorts.
“Sounds about right.” Steve glances at Nancy’s bedside clock, revealing about 15 minutes have passed. Knowing Tommy won’t wait the full 20 minutes, if he doesn’t leave now, he won’t be able to. But should he even go? It’s not like he’ll be able to sleep or think clearly now, but Nancy probably wouldn’t be too keen on it. As much as it pains him, she probably feels safer with Jonathan than with him.
“I should go,” Steve says, and the others frown at him. “My, uh, my ride’s waiting.”
“Steve…” Nancy starts, trailing off, frowning as she opens her mouth again. “Alright. Come find us tomorrow.”
“I will,” Steve promises, meaning it. He stands to go to the window, but a hand on his arm stops him. He slowly turns, eyebrows going to his hairline, when he realizes that Jonathan is the one so tenderly laying his hand on him.
“I-I think you should stay,” Jonathan proclaims, to the shock of both him and Nancy.
“Huh?”
“That… that thing is still out there,” Jonathan explains, cheeks dusted pink, “And we don’t know if it’ll come back, but we’d be better off together if it does. And…” Jonathan pauses, seeming to debate if he should keep speaking. He glances into Steve’s eyes for a moment before making his choice. “A-And I think we’d feel safer if you stayed.” His voice is soft, with a slight quiver, and it’s clear that ‘we’d’ truly meant ‘I’d.’
Steve is so caught off guard that he doesn’t know what to say at first. What a turn of events that Jonathan Byers, a supposed stalker, and psychopath, is asking his former bully to stay so he feels safe. It’s so genuine and heartfelt that Steve doesn’t even think about the following words that fall out of his mouth.
“Yeah, of course.” Jonathan grins shyly at him, and Nancy breathes a sigh of relief. There’s a warm feeling in Steve’s chest at the sheer fact of being wanted like this. He’s never been a defender or someone who has had to keep others safe, but it’s a nice role he’s finding.
Nancy gets up to dig out the few clothing items Steve has left over in her closet, and Jonathan takes something too, a spare blanket. The other boy goes about putting together a makeshift bed on the floor. Steve frowns, taking the clothes Nancy gives him.
“Hey,” Steve says, and Jonathan looks up, “You take the bed.” Jonathan’s eyes widen, and Nancy tilts her head.
“Steve?”
“I wasn’t the one dealing with monsters today,” Steve says with a shrug, “And I’m pretty sure no one here feels like doing anything other than sleep.” That earns a fond eye-roll from Nancy, which he counts as a win.
“You sure?” She asks once more, and Steve nods.
“Get comfy. I’m gonna go change.”
Steve slips out of the room and into the bathroom, changing swiftly and silently before coming back in. Jonathan lays on the bed, blanket tucked around him, while Nancy sits beside him. He recognizes the distant look in her eye, which tells of a too-active brain, and he goes over to her, nudging her slightly.
“You don’t sleep sitting up,” Steve scolds playfully, and Nancy smirks just a little. Jonathan watches the interaction silently.
“I know, I just-”
“Nancy, you can think about it later, with some sleep,” Steve cuts her off, “We’re safe here. That thing doesn’t stand a chance with the three of us.”
“We don’t know that,” Nancy whispers.
“Lay down, Nancy, please,” Steve counters, “Just try, okay?”
Nancy frowns at him but does as he asks, slipping under the covers to lay stiffly on her back. Steve takes the time to tuck her in, whispering a small promise to keep watch. He briefly makes eye contact with Jonathan before the other boy closes his eyes, and Steve sits on Nancy’s desk chair. Jonathan is under almost instantly, and while Nancy takes a little longer, soon enough, she’s breathing deeply as well.
Steve watches for a little longer, looking over the two teens sleeping in the bed. Seeing them, Nancy and Jonathan together feels right in a way he can’t really explain. Maybe he should be jealous, but he doesn’t feel like he’s on the outside of their connection but a part of it instead. He has a lot to think about, about himself, Nancy, Jonathan, his friends, and literal monsters. But for now, he can bask in the rightness of this room.
With heavy eyelids, Steve wanders to the makeshift bed, lying down and closing his eyes.