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“How long is this supposed to take?”
“It should almost be recharged,” You respond, “Give it a couple more minutes.”
A deep sigh passes Steve’s lip as his head falls back against the side of the van, his impatience increasing exponentially with each second. The more time it takes to restart the van’s battery, the more likely it is that Hopper’s signal slips away. He is really not looking forward to being chewed out over this.
The Squawk's van is not a particularly reliable mode of transportation, which is ironic considering how integral it is to a crawl’s success. After a couple of instances with a dead battery and other faulty parts, you had the brilliant idea to keep a spare battery charger in the van at all times. Unlucky for you, tonight is the first time you’ve ever had to use it. The universe has impeccable timing, as per usual.
Your mind is having a difficult time processing the events that have transpired over the last hour. After months of searching, Vecna has finally made a move, choosing to target Holly Wheeler and the rest of their family. You don’t think you’ll ever forget hearing the panic in Nancy and Mike’s voices over the radio. They’ve been silent since arriving at the hospital — god, you hope they’re alright. What you can’t quite put your finger on is why the Wheelers? After all this time, why not go after El directly?
You inhale sharply, loud and sudden enough for Steve to notice. He swears there’s a lightbulb hovering over your head as you silently put the pieces together inside your mind.
“Remember Nancy’s vision? The one that Vecna showed her last year?” You say as you turn to Steve, your shoulder pressing into the van. He nods, crossing his arms over his chest, “Yeah, the one that ended with Hawkins destroyed and some bigger, scarier monster? It’s hard to forget.”
“It started with the Wheelers. Nancy said that Vecna showed her family in danger. This is it. This could be the beginning of the end, we could finally be close to—”
“Holy shit,” Steve interrupts, his blank gaze cast out into the dark suburban landscape. You scooch closer to him, your curiosity now peaked as the theory starts to unfold, “I know! We could—”
“No, I mean…” He interrupts once again, this time directing your attention out into the road. At first, you don’t spot anything, annoyance spiking that he would stop you twice within a few seconds, until a familiar figure passes beneath a street light.
“Yeah… holy shit,” You mutter, immediately pushing off of the van and into the street, your sneakers thudding against the concrete as you run to meet him. Steve follows behind at a distance.
Dustin looks worse than expected. Dried blood is caked to his skin, trailing from both nostrils and down his chin. One of his lips has split. His eyes are bloodshot, the redness accentuated by fresh bruises surrounding them — his nose is likely broken. Beneath all of it, you can tell he’s been crying.
“Dustin, oh my god, are you okay?” You ask, instantly rushing to carefully pull him into a hug. He loosely wraps one of his arms around you, reciprocating with a mere pat to your back before he’s already trying to weasel out of your grasp.
“Yeah, I’m okay, just hit that pothole on Cornwallis,” Dustin says, barely able to meet your worried eyes as he speaks. He gestures to his bike, which has seen better days. The front wheel is bent so it wobbles as it rolls, and one of the chains drags behind.
“Took a nasty fall into the woods but I’ll be fine,” He continues as he walks past you and towards the van, “How’s the crawl been?”
Steve has a hard time masking his distaste for your brother’s treatment of you, practically disregarding your concern in favor of lying. He watches as confusion and worry twist your face, the realization hitting you both simultaneously; Dustin clearly did not just fall off his bike, and the excuse he came up with is rather weak. Knowing what the truth is makes it worse. Steve sucks air through his teeth, his hands dropping from his hips as Dustin passes, “The crawl’s been eventful, actually. Not that you cared enough to show up.”
Dustin rolls his eyes, swinging the back door of the van open to deposit his bike inside, “I was en route to the Squawk when it happened, okay? Give me a break.”
“A break?” Steve laughs in disbelief, "Dude, you’re like five hours late. An apology for covering your ass would be nice.”
You press your lips into a line, not particularly enthused with how Steve is handling this. You catch his eyes when he glances back towards you; a glare and a tilt of your head serves as a warning. After nearly three years together, you’re able to exchange several words in just one look. This needs to be handled gently, otherwise Dustin will continue to distance himself from the pair of you.
Dustin ignores him, his brow furrowing, “Why isn’t the van running? Did you find something?”
You cross your arms over your chest, sharing another glance with Steve as you start moving towards the hood of the car, “There was a power surge that ended up knocking out the car battery. It should be recharged by now, so we can get a move on.”
Dustin trails closely behind you, watching as you begin carefully unhooking the charger from the engine, “Are you serious, you couldn’t prevent a power surge?”
You scoff — that was uncalled for. His words sting like salt in a wound; it’s hard not to take them personally. Your brother has always been a little shit, but that doesn’t mean he needs to be a complete asshole. This is not the reunion you were anticipating.
“Hey, it happened pretty fast, alright?” Steve retorts quickly, “Cut her some slack.”
“Some slack? She should know how to stop that from happening!” Dustin argues, “Just because you’re too much of an idiot to recognize when to shut everything down doesn’t mean—”
“Dustin, that’s enough, alright?” You say as you slam the hood of the van shut, swiftly growing more annoyed with their bickering, “Steve, start the car.”
The boys share a rather nasty look before Steve moves to the driver’s side; that stern tone of yours is not one to disobey. Dustin rolls his eyes, grumbling under his breath as you trade the battery charger for the first aid kit you keep in the back. The van hums to life, Steve sighing with relief, "Hallelujah.”
Before Dustin can slip into the passenger’s seat, you shove the first aid kit into his hands, “Here.”
Steve’s brow raises slightly; in all the years he’s known you, this is the first time he’s ever seen you refuse to patch someone up yourself. You always start cleaning up blood before they even get a chance to say no. It’s one of the ways you silently show your love for someone — Steve’s been on the receiving end so many times at this point it’s hard to keep track.
“Catch him up. I need to look for Hopper’s signal,” Your jaw is so tense you practically spit out the words through your teeth, glancing between him and your brother before disappearing to the back of the van. Steve swallows harshly as he shifts the gear — you’re not happy. A little bit of space is probably for the best.
He does as you ask, informing Dustin on tonight’s events as you sit in front of the radio, headphones over your ears while scanning for Hopper. Your arm’s starting to get sore from turning this damn wheel all night. You occasionally have to switch, shaking your limb to get feeling back to it when it goes numb.
“So…” Steve trails off as he finishes his retelling, his head propped up with his free hand, “Do you want to fill us in on what you were up to over the last couple hours?”
Dustin doesn’t respond, instead focused on the rolling hills outside the window. Steve huffs, “Wow, he’s speechless. That’s a new one.”
“It’s a lot to process, Steve, okay?” Dustin replies as he shoves a wad of gauze up his left nostril, “There’s no activity in a year and a half, and now suddenly Holly Wheeler of all people has gone missing. It’s not the most elegant puzzle to solve.”
You exhale, pinching your eyes shut before turning up the dial up on the radio. Even with as loud as it can go, you’re still able to hear their squabble through the empty static.
“Well, your sister certainly seems to have figured it out,” Steve points a thumb back to you, “Maybe you would’ve too if you had actually been here—”
“I told you, I fell off my bike when I was riding over,” Dustin interrupts, shooting a harsh glance over to the boy driving.
“Oh, that’s right, your bike,” Steve says immediately, the volume of his voice growing exponentially as he becomes more irritated with Dustin’s insistence on withholding the truth, “Right, right, you totally didn’t fall face first into someone’s fist, huh?”
You shove the headphones down around your neck, swiveling the stool to face the windshield. You have to put a ridiculous amount of effort into keeping your tone on the softer end, “Guys, I really need to focus. Can you keep it down, please?”
The only response you get is a nod from Steve as your eyes meet in the rear view mirror, his lips pressed together; it’s the best you’re gonna get. You shake your head and return your focus back to the telemetry tracker, a deep exhale expelled from your lungs. You can’t wait to get out of this thing.
It’s not quiet for very long. Steve watches silently as Dustin pulls another wad of gauze from the first aid kit, and he can’t help himself. The words come tumbling out of his mouth before he can stop them; his urge to chastise your brother is too great, “Who was it? Andy? Those goons from the basketball team?”
When Dustin chooses to ignore him per your request, Steve scoffs, “C’mon man, you just had to provoke them.”
“Your concern is absolutely overwhelming, Steve, really.”
“My concern? How about her concern, huh? You didn’t think your sister would be worried when you didn't show up?”
Steve doesn’t give Dustin an opportunity to answer and only grows louder, much to your dismay, “The two of us? Nothing but concern for you this entire time. And look where we’ve ended up.”
Dustin huffs, “Why am I being parented right now?”
“See, you can’t admit you’re wrong! And that’s your problem, Henderson. You’ve never been able to do it—”
“Y’know, last time I checked, you two aren’t my mom and dad. You certainly like to act the part though—”
“Just admit it for once in your life! You screwed up!”
“Jesus Christ, both of you just shut up!” You shout, your voice echoing off the walls. It’s the loudest you’ve ever heard yourself, frustration just bursting at the seams. Your gaze could pierce daggers through their backs. It’s infuriating that of all the times for them to air out their grievances, they had to pick right now.
“I’m trying to do my job and find Hopper, in case the two of you forgot. Be quiet or I’ll come up there and kick both of your asses myself!”
No one dares to speak for the rest of the drive, instead opting for a pact of silence; aside from the ambient noise of tire tread on asphalt, you could hear a pin drop. Time passes excruciatingly slowly, like you’re watching sand pass through an hourglass as Steve spends hours driving around in circles. Aside from some interference around 2:00am, the tracker doesn’t pick up on even a hint of a signal. Morale is ridiculously low.
Steve’s just about to call it quits and give up when Robin finally radios in, the familiar sight of dawn approaching over the horizon as she details what her and Will were able to deduce overnight. With Will’s connection to the hive mind reopened, that gives the group a lead to pursue, thankfully letting your group off the hook.
However, whenever you arrive back at the Squawk, Steve is not so lucky. While Dustin is catching up with his friends, you walk towards where your boyfriend stands off to the side, watching as your brother continues to lie about the cause of his injuries. You can feel the simmering anger beneath his skin as you approach, but it doesn’t deter you. You need to have this conversation now.
“A word, Steve?”
You say it like a question, but you’re definitely not asking. You move past him without any other acknowledgement and keep facing forward, walking straight toward the radio station; Steve takes a deep breath before following closely behind. He can already tell this isn’t going to be the reconciliation he was hoping for.
You don’t turn around until the pair of you reach the break room, tucked away from prying eyes or ears. Steve shrugs slightly after crossing his arms over his chest, looking at you expectantly, “What?”
A scoff escapes from your mouth — it’s like he’s insistent on pressing all your buttons just for the sake of it. It’s unfair he still looks so good when he’s annoyed, that familiar wrinkle between his pinched brow almost makes you forget why you’re mad at him. Almost.
“Don’t play dumb with me, Harrington,” You mutter, your cold stare shifting across his face as you try to analyze his every microexpression, “What the hell was all that?”
“I’m just giving him his bullshit right back,” Steve replies smartly, as if his reaction to Dustin’s antics should be obvious.
You tilt your head back, your gaze briefly meeting the ceiling. While that doesn’t seem like a terrible excuse on the surface, it’s certainly not the mature way to handle an attitude like Dustin’s — especially when you can determine your brother’s recent behavior is fueled by the never-ending feeling of loss. You know from experience.
“You’re being really hard on him. Can you at least try to ease up a bit?”
Steve gestures out to the hallway with one of his hands, “He’s lying right to your face and you want to defend him?”
“I’m not defending him, Steve,” You say, watching as he rolls his eyes in response, “He’s being an asshole, but if you keep coming at him all angry like that, then he’ll never tell us anything!”
“Y’know I seem to recall you weren’t too happy with him either, Henderson,” Steve shoots back, taking a step closer to you, “Why am I the one getting chewed out here?”
He must really be trying to get you riled up now, his tone absolutely dripping with annoyance as he goes on the defensive to deflect and catch you in a trap. Two can play this game.
You step forward as well, poking your index finger firmly into his sternum, “Because you can’t put aside your bitterness for two seconds while the world is ending. You’re lucky I’m still willing to be standing here with you because we’re supposed to be a team.”
While there’s still anger lacing your words, a hint of sadness begins to creep in. It upsets you to think about how far the two of you have fallen; there was a time where you craved his touch so much that it made your chest physically hurt. You used to get a stomach ache every time you watched him worm an arm around Nancy Wheeler’s waist, or press a casual kiss to her temple. The two of you have been through so much together — from protecting the kids from Demodogs, escaping from the clutches of evil Russians, even promising your futures to each other before smoking Vecna out of his lair. The love shared between you was strengthened through these experiences; you used to think that alone would be enough to keep your bond going.
Now you can barely look at him without your blood pressure spiking. You thought you had been on the road to recovery, until your brother had to show up and sour your progress. You wish this wasn’t so confusing.
Your eyes lock onto Steve’s as you continue, “We used to be a pretty good team, actually, if you remember correctly. But now, one second you’re defending me, and the next you’re yelling in my face! Make up your mind!”
Steve refuses to back down, his stubbornness getting the best of him. If you want an honest answer, he’s happy to oblige. He leans in, his firm voice just above a whisper as the tension in the room continues to rise, “Well I’m not particularly enjoying your company right now.”
You lean in too, your distaste for him growing with each passing moment. You practically spit the words onto his skin, “Me neither.”
Steve huffs, the sound almost like a small laugh, “I’m glad we can agree.”
As your jaw clenches, his gaze darts down to your lips. A big mistake.
He didn’t realize how close the two of you had grown in your tense exchange; you’re close enough now that he can count each individual eyelash that frames your eyes, which still haven’t left his. He wonders if you’d still taste like that cherry chapstick he adores — it’s been far too long since he’s kissed you. His nose catches a whiff of your perfume and his knees practically buckle, an influx of memories flooding his vision, not all of them particularly vanilla. He clears his throat, banishing those thoughts to the dark recesses of his mind.
“Stop looking at me like that,” You mumble, his softening gaze warming your cheeks. It feels like you’re running a fever.
His eyes snap back up to yours, your pupils widening the longer he stares, “Like what?”
You can’t pull your gaze away from him. You don’t know how you forgot how addicting he is.
“Like you’re going to kiss me or something.”
He can’t help it — his irises shift down to your mouth once more, lingering there just a bit too long. Steve swallows harshly and licks his lips, his voice low, “Do you want me to kiss you?”
When his eyes meet yours once more, you’re not able to resist, no matter how upset you are with him. Not even a full second passes before you’re beginning to speak, your heart rate increasing in anticipation.
God, yes—
“Guys, c’mon!” Robin shouts, poking her head into the room, “We’re waiting on you two out here, y’know.”
She disappears as quickly as she arrived, yelling to the others down the hall that she finally located the pair of you. Steve groans and throws his head backwards, baffled that Robin has managed to interrupt you both not once, but twice in the last twenty-four hours. Each time you’re about to make some progress, something always finds a way to screw it up. He hopes this isn’t a bad omen.
When Steve straightens, he finds you’ve backed up, separating yourself from him once again; he feels your hold around his heart tighten at the realization. Your gaze is fixed to the tile floor as you rub your hand along the back of your neck. He would recognize the emotion that wrinkles your face from a mile away — regret.
He pushes a breath through his lungs, his hands gripping his hips, “Robin has impeccable timing, as always.”
“Tell me about it,” You reply with a slight laugh. When your focus shifts back to Steve, you can’t help but feel like your relationship is stuck in a weird phase of limbo; when you take one step forward, you simultaneously take ten steps backward. You don’t suppose you’ll be able to find a solution until after all of this is over, which only adds to your discomfort. You don’t like feeling this way about Steve.
You inhale as you shove those thoughts away, there are more important things to handle right now than the state of your love life.
“We should probably hear what Will and Robin have to say,” You say softly.
Steve nods, running his fingers through his hair — being unable to have a proper conversation is getting incredibly frustrating. He motions towards the door, “Lead the way.”