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“We can use force, y’know.”
Steve refused to look up at the soldier, continuing his silent protest.
The soldier inches forward, sneering. “We won’t get in trouble. Our goal is to make you talk. That means we can use whatever method we want.”
Steve’s heart flipped. Whatever method. That could include hurting Dustin.
He was sitting in a dimly lit room, the soldier in front of him attempting to conduct an interrogation. But Steve wasn’t going to answer questions. Not until he saw Dustin.
The two had been ripped away from each other after the military ambushed them coming out of the Upside Down. After El… after El-
Dustin had screamed for him. Cried his name in panic as the bastards shoved them both into vehicles and carted them off to someplace within their occupation. Steve had thrashed, and screamed, and tried so fucking hard to get to the younger boy. But he couldn’t. All he could do was scream “Don’t hurt him. You better not fucking hurt him.”
And then Dustin was gone. Somewhere in this god forsaken camp and Steve was locked in this goddamn room, with no clue what they had done to the kid that was his little brother.
He felt the hand of the soldier smack clean across his face, leaving a sharp stinging feeling. It lingered, but he didn’t let himself falter.
”I told you,” He said lowly. “I’m not saying anything until you let me see Henderson.”
The soldier just looked at him and rolled his eyes.
Steve felt the burning, aching feeling of rage and fear pile in his chest as he looked the man directly in the eye. “I’m serious. I know he’s here. I know you have him somewhere, and someone could be hurting him- and if you just let me see him, let me know he’s okay I’ll answer whatever you want.”
”You’re not in the position to make negotiations.”
”Then I’m not saying anything.” Steve continued his silence, staring the soldier down.
They sat in silence for another three minutes before the soldier buried his head in his hands. Eventually, he grumbled,
”Fine. I’ll ask about Henderson.”
Steve straightened up, eyes going big. God, finally.
The soldier let out a frustrated groan and turned to his walkie. “Smith, this is Johnson. You have Henderson, right?”
“Sure do.”
”What’s his condition?”
”Still hysterical, but otherwise fine. It’s been a struggle getting any info but he doesn’t seem injured. Why?”
Steve leapt to his feet, his heart pounding at the thought of Dustin sitting alone, getting ruthlessly questioned, still sobbing. And Steve couldn’t do anything.
”Harrington is losing his mind over here trying to see him and is refusing to answer any questions.”
“Yeah, Henderson’s been asking for him too.” Came the reply, which only made Steve’s anxiety skyrocket.
The soldier- Johnson- turned to Steve, annoyance still dripping his face. “There. He’s fine. Ready to cooperate?”
Steve shook his head, feeling insane. “No, not ready- he’s upset. He needs me. Please for the love of god can I just see him please-“
He was cut off by another smack, causing him to fall back into his chair. He looked up indignantly at the soldier, who looked about ready to burst in frustration.
”What if I tell Smith to hurt him, huh?” Everything stopped around Steve. “Will you comply?”
Steve felt like he was about to have a panic attack. “No, no, no- you can’t.”
”Oh yes we can. Whatever we need to get the information.”
Steve shook his head frantically, on the verge of hyperventilating. “Please- please, no, he’s a kid. He’s only 16 and he’s scared and he’s alone, please don’t hurt him-“
”Hey Smith,” A malicious smile donned Johnson’s face as he spoke into the walkie. “Go ahead and get physical if you don’t hear from me in twenty minutes.”
Steve held his breath. A beat. And then-
“Copy that.”
Steve felt his eyes burn as they turned glossy. “Oh my god.”
They couldn’t hurt Dustin. They couldn’t hurt him oh my god. The kid was already in a fragile state- he was upset, and he already had broken bones, and he had a concussion, and oh my god they don’t know he has a concussion and they hurt him it could get worse.
It could kill him. Jesus Christ.
And Steve- Steve couldn’t do it without him. No way, absolutely not. Dustin dies, Steve dies, that’s the agreement. Because that kid… that kid was his one constant, his tether. Screw the arguments over the past year- Dustin was his little brother, and he was the first person who made him feel like he had a purpose outside of sports and popularity and money and the bullshit of high school.
So no way, absolutely not. They couldn’t hurt him.
”So?” Johnson sneered. “Ready to talk.”
Steve just nodded silently, thinking of all the different ways he was going to kill the man.
”You have 20 minutes.”
***
Two hours and 27 minutes. 147 minutes in total. 8820 seconds.
That's how long Dustin had been away from Steve. How long it had since El had disappeared along with the gate, and everything they had worked their childhoods to get rid of.
Now Dustin was in a small room, with a soldier across from him relentlessly questioning the kid. He hadn't gotten much out of him- not because Dustin was refusing to answer him, 'cause there really was nothing he wouldn't say, it was more of Dustin just couldn't.
"You need to calm yourself down, or separate measures will be used." The soldier said, voice void of empathy.
But Dustin couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe and his face was blotchy and red from crying, and his head hurt, and his voice was hoarse from all the fucking screaming he had done that day, and he needed Steve, he needed to know if he was alive and okay and he needed him here-
"I'm- I'm trying." Dustin hiccupped, frustrated and scared and on the verge of throwing up.
"I'll start again," Jesus Christ, Dustin was capable and mature and all, but did these people really have no empathy for- y'know- a 16 year old who had been crying for two hours? "Where did Eleven go?"
"She's gone," Dustin buried his face in his hands and took a big breath, nearly choking on the air. "I've told you this- when the Upside Down was destroyed, it took her with. She's dead. Now can I please see Steve-"
Suddenly, a crackle emerged from his captor's walkie. "Smith, this is Johnson. You have Henderson, right?"
Smith furrowed his eyebrows, then responded, "Sure do."
”What’s his condition?”
The soldier looked up at Dustin, eyes scanning him up and down.
"Still hysterical, but otherwise fine. It’s been a struggle getting any info but he doesn’t seem injured. Why?”
Hysterical. Damn right he was hysterical, they were holding him, a kid, against his will, all by himself, after his friend just died, and they wouldn't let him see the one person that could make everything okay.
"Harrington is losing his mind over here trying to see him and is refusing to answer any questions.” Came the reply.
Dustin's heart leapt in his throat, beating out of control and causing him to feel lightheaded at the mention of the older boy. "Steve?"
Smith glared at him, turning to the walkie, "Yeah, Henderson’s been asking for him too.”
He left it at that, ignoring Dustin's protest to be able to talk to him, to see him, to make sure Steve himself was okay.
"Please- please, you don't understand-"
"Jesus Christ, I'm getting tired of this," The soldier's voice raised unexpectedly, making Dustin flinch back, shrinking into his chair. "Just answer the goddamn question."
"I did!" Dustin's eyes were getting suspiciously wet as he yelled back, his voice breaking at the end.
Just as Smith was about to give a response, the walkie crackled once again, "Hey Smith? Go ahead and get physical if you don't hear from me in twenty minutes."
Oh god.
Dustin's breath caught as he looked up at the soldier with big, wet eyes, silently pleading for him to just let him go. Let him go home with his brother because there was nothing else he could say-
"Copy that."
And that was the nail in the coffin. All the fear he had dealt with in the past 48 hours boiled over as he remembered in a flash the summer of '85, when the Russians happened and Steve had been tortured for him, and oh god were they going to do that to Steve? Were they going to do that to him?
Dustin choked on another sob as he frantically shook his head, pushing back into the chair. "I told you everything, there's nothing else I swear to god."
"Well I don't have all the information I need-"
"Oh my God what else-"
The soldier loomed over him, frustration and annoyance and apathy staining his eyes. "Henderson, if you don't calm yourself down-"
Dustin cut him off, hyperventilating, seeing stars and red. "You guys fucking locked me in here after you killed my friend and expect me to be calm, do you hear yourself?"
"I will be forced to take other actions-"
"You can't just waltz into a town and take over- then kidnap kids and keep us here against our will, that's absolute bullshit!"
Something dark appeared on Smith's face. "-In order to get you to that point."
"You all think you're saving the world, huh?" Dustin stood up, yelling and crying and yeah- fucking hysterical. "Well ask anybody in this goddamn town, you assholes will never be heroes-"
Smith's face twists in rage, and he says in a low, inhuman voice, "Twenty minutes is too long."
Dustin only has a second to pause before Smith's fist swings into the side of his face, and the world goes black.
***
"And that's how you got to this point?"
Steve stares at his crossed arms and mumbles. "That's literally everything, from '83 until now."
A satisfied smirk crosses Johnson's face. "See? Cooperating wasn't so hard."
Steve just huffs and rolls his eyes. Johnson glances at his watch, then turning his wrist so Steve could see.
"And only fifteen minutes! If only you'd done this earlier, you would've been out of here by now."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Steve looks the soldier dead in the eyes. "Now let me see Henderson."
"I will see where Smith is with him," Johnson presses the walkie. "Smith? How far are you with Henderson?"
"Had to cut it short, kid was freaking out too much and we had to knock him out. Put him in building 13 for now with Lincoln."
Knock him out? Knock him out? Like, hit him over the head so hard he goes unconscious?
No, no, no-
"What did they do to him?" Steve couldn't recognize his own voice.
Johnson's eyes widened ever so slightly as he turned back to the walkie. "Jeez, thanks, now I have Harrington to deal with.
"What did they do." Steve felt like he was underwater, like the world was drowning around him because Dustin was hurt, they hit him over the head so hard to knock him out when he already had a concussion and that can kill you.
"Harrington," Steve could tell the man was trying to deescalate the situation, but Steve couldn't bring himself to care. "Listen. Listen. I'll bring you over there-"
"You said twenty minutes-"
"Good lord- I know, that was a dumb move on Smith." Johnson's hand moved to hover over his gun.
Steve could only see red. "They knocked him out-"
"It might be good for the kid to get some shut eye-"
"He already had a concussion!" Steve roared, one step away from going through with the ways he thought to kill the man in front of him.
Because they hurt his brother. They hurt his best friend and Steve could not stand for that. Not while he was still here, and even if they got rid of the monsters and the magic and evil wizard bullshit that didn't stop the older boy from doing what he did best. Protecting those kids. Protecting his kid.
Johnson moved his hand from where it hovered on his gun and brought it up in front of Steve, a sign of peace.
"Harrington. Think for one moment." And for a split second, Steve could see an ounce of empathy in the man's eyes. "I understand. I'm the oldest of three."
Weird, coming from the man who told his coworker to hurt a sixteen-year-old boy in order to get information. But hey, whatever tactic's work.
"I will take you down to building 13 right now. You've answered all my questions. But if you make a dumb decision, that kid might not see his older brother again."
And that made Steve's heart stop. Because as much as he wished to hurt this man in the way his coworker had hurt his kid, Steve knew he couldn't risk doing that to Dustin.
"Please, don't let it happen again."
"Not you."
"Take me there." Steve breathed, his body on fire in terror and rage.
It was a short walk to the building, surprisingly. The military had taken over this section of Hawkins, and Steve had forgotten the town really wasn't that big.
Eventually, Johnson shoved him into a dimly lit room in one of the smaller buildings. The man exchanged brief words with the guard in front, before leaving and letting Steve turn around and-
Dustin was there. Slumped in the corner, a small amount of blood in his hair, looking so young. Like the brave thirteen-year-old that demanded he come find the monster he lost. Except this kid was unconscious and hurt and Steve didn't care about anything else that just happened, it was only him and Dustin and nobody else in the world.
Steve slid to his knees in front of the boy, shaking as tears clouded his vision.
"Hey," His voice was the softest it had ever been as he cupped Dustin's face. "Hey, buddy c'mon. You gotta wake up, okay?"
He felt the world around him start to cave in as he frantically, desperately shook the kid, a sob bubbling in his throat.
"Up and at 'em Henderson. You got this."
No response. No fucking response.
"Okay," Steve whispered, ignoring the tears burning in the corner of his eyes. "Okay, okay- here we go. It's okay man."
He pulled Dustin gently into his lap, cupping his head carefully against his heart, letting a finger rest on his pulse.
A beat. And another. And another.
"Thank god," Steve sobbed. "Thank you, thank you."
He rocked the kid back and forth, pushing on his shoulder in attempt to rouse him.
"You better not have brain damage," Steve muttered against his hair, the older boy's fingers working it's way through the dried blood. "Because then whose going to make fun of my taste in movies, huh? Whose going to complain about me not knowing how to fix the car, then teach me anyway?"
Steve let out an obnoxious sniff, feeling Dustin's hair begin to get damp as the tears seemed to never stop.
Then a groan emerged below, causing Steve to pull back. His heart slammed against his chest as the younger boy's eye's fluttered open.
Steve positioned him as if he was holding a small child, making sure he was able to see his face as Dustin began to gain consciousness.
"Steve?" He whispered.
The kid's eyes grew to the size of moons as he lurched forward and wrapped his arms around the older boy's neck, a deep, heart wrenching wail leaving his throat.
"You- the soldiers- El- gone-" Steve could only make out half of what the kid hiccupped, until the kid let out a devastating, "Steve."
Steve gently shooshed him, pushing his head down delicately on his heart. "It's over. It's over, Dust. Please breathe. I got you."
They both sobbed in each other's arms, crying for the loss and grief and terror the last 48 hours- no, the past four years had brought them. They cried until Steve felt lightheaded and Dustin had melted into his hold. Now only sniffling, Steve found he was propped up against the wall, Dustin's head against his chest and his legs over the older boy's.
Steve buried his nose in Dustin's hair and whispered, "I'm not leaving you again."
Dustin shook slightly beneath his arms, burying impossibly deeper into his hold. "Good."
Eventually, a soldier would come into the room and tell them they were free to go home. They would reunite with the rest of the party and cry in each other's arms. Steve would take Dustin to his house and the two would fall asleep listening to the routine beating of the other's heart.
Over. And over.
Steve would eventually take Dustin back to his mom, and they would try to explain everything. Try to come to terms with the loss of El, and the horror they had gone through. Dustin would wake up screaming for Steve. Steve would wake up screaming for Dustin. They would hold each other and end up telling the other what they meant to them.
It would be the most difficult thing Steve and Dustin would ever do in their lives, but they would come to accept the years of horror and the childhood that was ripped away from them. Dustin would go back to school, and Steve would find a job that he really, truly loved. They would play games again and joke and laugh and maybe, actually be okay. Or will be, someday.
But right now all Steve could think about was the fact that Dustin was safe, small within his arms, still alive and breathing and right here.
And there was no way he was going to leave his side for a very long time.
