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Steve is almost done lacing his newly issued boots when Dustin cracks the door to the changing room open and quietly slips inside. He lingers just inside, watching Hopper holster his gun and Jonathan shrug his jacket on, and Steve bites the inside of his right cheek and tries not to let the relief show on his face, because they’re set to head out in about ten minutes, and he’d been trying to figure out if that would be enough time for him to track Dustin down or not.
The decommissioned Hawkins National Laboratory is a huge structure with probably hundreds of rooms, and even though Owens and his small army are only occupying the two first floors there are plenty more levels for someone to slip away to – especially someone as smart as Dustin, who probably wouldn’t have any issue at all accessing the cordoned-off areas.
Steve had wanted to follow Dustin when he’d first stormed out of the room, right after Steve had volunteered to head back into the Upside Down with Owens’ men and Owens had accepted, but there had been too much to prepare and he hadn’t been able to leave; he’d spent the next few hours listening to Owens walk everyone through the plan once more – a reconnaissance mission, not combat; quick in and quick out – before one of the Lieutenants had escorted them to the makeshift supply room to pick up some clothes and equipment, and a blink of an eye later, they were T-minus 10 minutes, and Dustin was still MIA.
Steve sighs now as he secures the laces with a double knot and leans back, eyes meeting Dustin’s for the first time since this morning, and he can’t find it in him to feel surprised that the kid’s still looking pretty pissed off.
‟I need to talk to Steve,” Dustin loudly announces, like he fully expects Hopper and Jonathan to immediately clear out so that he can do just that, and Hopper snorts a grunt before Steve can tell Dustin to cool it.
‟Ten minutes,” the Chief tells Steve, and then he grabs his jacket and heads for the door. ‟C’mon, Jonathan.”
Dustin impatiently waits as they both make their way out the door, and once it closes behind them he’s suddenly on the move – launching himself across the room – and Steve stands up, a small part of him honest to god thinking that Dustin’s about to start throwing punches, but it doesn’t happen that way, of course, because Dustin’s not that kind of kid; he barrels into Steve instead, knocking him back against the row of lockers as he clings to Steve’s shoulders, and Steve wraps his arms around Dustin and hugs him back.
Dustin’s still kind of short for his age – thanks to his condition he never experienced the same kind of frantic growth spurt Steve had enjoyed between the age of fourteen and sixteen, back when he’d shot up about half a foot in height in the span of eighteen months – but he’s still heavy and broad across the shoulders, which means that he easily pins Steve to the lockers as he fists his hands into the army-issue T-shirt covering the small of Steve’s back.
Steve pats him on the shoulder, feeling him tremble where he’s pressed up against Steve’s chest, and he’s not sure if it’s out of anger or something else.
‟You still pissed at me?” he asks, and Dustin exhales sharply against Steve’s shoulder.
‟Yeah,” he grits out, and Steve kind of gets it; it had taken Dustin a long time to work through what happened to Eddie, and nearly as long before he stopped low-key freaking out at the notion of Steve having anything whatsoever to do with the Upside Down, the mere thought spawning nightmares that had Dustin waking screaming in the small of the night and scrambling out of bed and across the hallway and into the Hendersons’ guestroom, crawling into bed with Steve just so that he could listen to him breathe.
And now Steve’s volunteered to go back, because as much as Owens doesn’t want to show it, everyone knows that they’re at the end of their rope, and Owens can call in as many men as he wants but what he needs is people who’ve been there and who know what to expect, and just like Dustin’s not the kind of person to turn to violence, Steve’s not someone who can just sit on the sidelines and watch at a time like this.
‟I’m sorry,” he tells Dustin, raising his hand to cup the back of his head. ‟It’ll be okay. Look, they gave me a badass uniform and everything.”
Dustin snorts into Steve’s T-shirt, and Steve can’t tell if it’s in anger or amusement or something else.
‟I need you to come back,” Dustin says, voice breaking, ‟because if you don’t come back—”, and yeah, that’s—
Steve bites his lip and runs a hand up Dustin’s back. ‟I’ll try,” he says, because they both know that promises mean nothing when it comes to the Upside Down, and even though it’s not meant to be a suicide mission, there’s always a chance that it might turn out to be.
‟Can I tell you something?” Dustin murmurs against Steve’s shoulder, and Steve turns to rest his cheek against the side of Dustin’s head.
‟Anything,” he says. ‟You know that.”
Dustin takes a deep breath, the warmth of it washing over Steve’s skin even through the fabric, and says, ‟If something should happen, like if maybe you get caught in a situation where it’s easier to just give up, I just— I want you to know that you’re pretty much the most important person in my life. And I love you. And— And I hope that if anything does happen, then maybe knowing that will help you come back home.”
‟Dustin—” Steve breathes, because what else is there to say to that?
He doesn’t think that he’s ever been the most important person in anyone’s life, so for Dustin to just lay it out there like that, just baring himself—
‟You can’t leave me,” Dustin whispers, hands twisting into the back of Steve’s T-shirt and pulling his collar against the front of his throat, and Steve’s pretty sure Dustin’s crying, his shoulders trembling beneath Steve’s hands.
‟Hey,” Steve says, ‟hey, look at me,” and he pushes Dustin away, just far enough so that he can see his face – cheeks wet and eyes blinking back tears – and then he cups Dustin’s face in his hands, ducking his head down so that he can look him in the eyes.
‟I’d never,” he says, thumbing Dustin’s tears away as they spill over and drip down his cheeks. ‟You know that, right? Never on purpose.”
‟Not on purpose,” Dustin hiccups, ‟but—”
‟I’ll remember,” Steve says. He leans forward to touch his forehead to Dustin’s, and Dustin grabs at his wrists, like he’s trying to make sure Steve doesn’t pull away. ‟If— If it comes to it, I’ll remember what you said, okay? And I’ll try to find a way back, I fucking swear.”
Dustin’s fingers twitch against the bare skin of Steve’s wrists, pressing almost hard enough to leave bruises, and Steve carefully pulls back as Dustin sniffles, face still cupped in Steve’s palms.
‟C’mon,” he says, trying to coax a smile onto Dustin’s face, ‟you know you’re my favorite person too, right?” and Dustin blinks his eyes open, blue as clear as the sky, and his breath hitches, and Steve—
Steve knows that sound.
He’s heard it before, probably more than a dozen times – from Beth and Laura and Susan and Nancy, the same hitch of anticipation in their breathing as they realized he was about to kiss them – and it sounds almost exactly the same coming from Dustin, only Steve hadn’t been planning on—
‟Um—” he says, and something in his face must have given it away because Dustin’s eyes widen before he screws them closed again, shame playing across his face.
‟I’m sorry,” he chokes out, and he’s crying again, fat tears spilling down his cheeks and wetting Steve’s fingers as he releases his grip on Steve’s wrists, like he thinks Steve might not want him touching him right now.
‟Hey, no,” Steve stammers, ‟that’s not what I meant. It’s okay. I—”
‟It’s not!” Dustin sounds like he’s about to start hyperventilating. ‟It’s not okay! How can you—” and Steve lets go of his face and grabs him by the shoulders and pulls him back in for another tight hug, not letting him go even when Dustin tries to squirm away.
‟You’re fine,” Steve tells him, tucking Dustin’s face against the side of his neck, feeling the smear of tears on his skin. ‟Don’t worry, you’re fine,” and he’s not quite sure if he’s speaking to Dustin or himself or maybe both.
There’s a sudden knock on the changing room door, the sound sharp enough to make them both jump, and then Steve can hear Nancy’s voice asking if he’s ready to go.
‟In a minute!” he calls, feeling Dustin clutch at the hem of his T-shirt, and he thinks he can hear her walk away though he’s not quite sure. ‟Okay,” he breathes as Dustin’s grip tightens, like he doesn’t want Steve to leave. ‟We— I need to go. I—”
Dustin doesn’t move so Steve pulls away just enough to press a light kiss to his temple, and Dustin shudders and exhales what sounds almost like a sob as he presses into the touch.
‟I have to go,” Steve tells him, and Dustin’s curls brush against his lips as Dustin shakes his head. ‟No, I do. We’ll— I love you, okay? I love you, and we’ll talk about this when I get back, alright?”
Dustin makes a despondent sound as Steve carefully takes a step forward, maneuvering him back, step in step like they’re dancing as he turns them around and gently guides Dustin down onto one of the wood benches.
‟C’mon,” he says, pushing a few stray locks of Dustin’s hair away from his forehead. ‟A few hours and I’ll be back. It won’t take long. I’ll find Lucas or—”
‟Will,” Dustin chokes out, eyes on where his fingers are still curled around the bottom hem of Steve’s T-shirt.
‟—Will on my way out, and I’ll send him in here and he can stay with you, okay?”
Dustin sniffles and gives the T-shirt a small tug. ‟Steve—”
‟It’ll be okay,” Steve tells him, reaching down to uncurl his fingers, ‟I promise,” and Dustin lets his hands fall into his lap, looking up at Steve with a strange mix of what looks like hopelessness and anticipation.
Steve steps away and bends down to pick his jacket up off the floor, where it had slid when Dustin first pushed Steve up against the lockers.
‟It won’t take long,” he says, and Dustin simply shakes his head as he looks down at his hands, fingers curled against nothing.
Steve looks at him, fondness warring with something else in his chest – something new and nameless – and he can feel a sour taste start to rise in the back of his throat. He swallows it down as he silently turns and leaves, shouldering the door to the room open and slipping out into the hallway.
Nancy’s standing a few feet away speaking to one of Owens’ men and Steve heads towards her, pulling his jacket on and fumbling with the zipper, hands shaking as he tries to close it.
Nancy looks up as he approaches, a frown appearing on her face. ‟Are you alright?” she asks, and Steve wipes a hand over his face before running his fingers through his hair.
‟I’m fine, Nance,” he says. ‟I just gotta find Will and then we can go.”
‟He’s saying goodbye to El,” she says, and Steve nods and wills his hands to stop trembling, burgeoning anxiety for once having absolutely nothing to do with the Upside Down.