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“I wish I had a Dad.”
Steve blinked, glancing at Dustin in the passenger seat, driving him home from school. He wasn’t sure how to respond to that. It came out of nowhere.
“My Dad left us.” Dustin added, risking a glance at Steve, to see if he was listening. He was. “He thought my health issues were too much.” Dustin bit the inside of his cheek. “We found out this weekend that he got remarried.”
Steve bit his lip, letting this information process in his brain. He had to be very gentle with this conversation, with Dustin. “I’m sorry to hear that, Henderson.” He said, putting as much sympathy as he could into words. “He sounds like a pretty crappy guy to me.”
There was a long, drawn-out silence, before Dustin nodded. “Yeah, he is pretty crappy.”
“Do you… want to talk about it?” Steve asked, glancing at Dustin, not wanting to take his eyes off the road.
“I thought that’s what I was doing.”
“No.” Steve sighed. “No, I mean… do you want to get a slice and talk about it?” The kid seemed upset. Steve wasn’t the most emotionally intelligent person in the world but he was trying. He was really, really trying.
“Yeah. I could use a slice right now.” Dustin nodded.
“Okay, Henderson.” Steve said, using his blinker to pull down the side road where his favorite pizza place sat. This wasn’t their first time here. It was a hidden gem in town and Steve took Dustin here often. When Dustin was smaller he called it their spot. Steve kept it close to his heart.
They each ordered a slice and a soda, then sat down at a table in the corner for privacy. Steve was anxious to hear what Dustin had to say. He wanted nothing more than to be there for the kid. But, Dustin was silent. Fortunately, Steve was patient.
“I know it’s stupid to be upset about this. He’s been gone for a long time.” Dustin picked a piece of pepperoni off his pizza. "I don't even really think about him that much."
"It's okay if you do."
"I don't." Dustin insisted and Steve let it go. "It's just... it sucks. Not having a Dad. And now he's going to start a whole new, better family."
Steve scoffed. "Highly unlikely." He took a bite of his pizza. Dustin frowned, tilting his head a little in confusion. "You and your mom are the best there is, Henderson. His loss, really." Steve took a sip of his soda, washing down the pizza.
Dustin's features softened and he grinned, just a little. "You think so?"
"Oh, no doubt in my mind. I mean, your mom is such a sweet person. And you're the smartest damn kid-no, person I have ever met. Your Dad is an idiot." Steve paused. "No offense."
But Dustin was smiling now, eyes squinting up at Steve. "None taken." He took a bite of his pizza.
They sat in silence again, before Steve cleared his throat, putting his slice down. "Fathers aren't all they're cracked up to be, Henderson."
Dustin stopped chewing and now put his pizza down. Was Steve about to open up to him? Holy crap. He didn't want to push, but he did at the same time. "I never met your Dad."
"And you never will." Steve said right away, meeting Dustin's eyes. "I would never allow that."
"Why?"
Steve sucked in a breath. This was a heavy topic. Even though Dustin had just entered high school a few weeks ago, Steve wasn't sure it was appropriate. "My dad isn't a nice guy. He's, um, big on discipline."
"Does he hit you?"
Steve can't stop the laugh that escapes. God, he wished his dad just hit him. "Oh, he beats the hell out of me." Steve chuckles at his own misery, again. He takes another bite of his pizza, chewing slow as he thinks. "In fact," he swallows. "I think my earliest memory of life is him taking a belt to my back for spilling my grape juice on the rug." His eyes squint in memory. "I think I was 3."
"Jesus..." Dustin whispers.
This catches Steve's attention and he immediately knows he said too much. He lets out shaky breathe and smiles. "I, uh-"
"It's okay." Dustin reassures him with a short nod. "I want to hear about your life Steve."
"Yeah, but this might be too much-"
"Please." Dustin reached for Steve's hand but stopped himself, pulling it back. Steve noticed. "I want to hear." Dustin gently pushed his plate away, focused on Steve.
Steve felt uncomfortable. Dustin's just a kid. He didn't need to hear about Steve's stupid, screwed up life. That was Robin's job. "Henderson-"
"Tell me about your dad, Steve. I'm trying to..." Dustin sighed, getting frustrated. "I thought we were over the macho man stuff. Talk to me. I want to know. Tell me about how much of a piece of shit your dad was. Maybe it'll make me feel better about mine."
Steve blinked. "Uh... okay." Steve dust his hands together, the crumbs of the pizza landing on the plate before he pushed it aside. "My dad is a nasty guy. The greatest thing about him is that he's not really around anymore. Just like the greatest thing your dad did was get lost." Steve pointed at Dustin, putting emphasis on his feelings towards his father. "I mean, I don't know. He's a bad guy. He used to beat the hell out of me. More than my brothers. Though, to be fair, I did take a lot of their beatings."
"Yeah, that sounds very much like you." Dustin gave him a knowing look before taking a sip of his soda. "You should really stop doing that."
"I won't." Steve immediately shot him down. Dustin wasn't surprised. "I just didn't like him hurting them." A swell of affection bloomed in Dustin's chest. Steve was like that. He cared so much for everyone else, so little for himself. "Like, one time my oldest brother stole my dad's car. Crashed it. Completely wrecked it. My dad was in the living room just pacing back and forth, back and forth. Me, my mom, and my other brothers just sat there and watched. Eventually, my oldest brother came home and my dad went right to him, fist clenched. I just remember thinking, he's dead. Dad's going to kill him. So just as my dad grabbed his shirt and slammed him against the wall, I knocked over my mom's favorite vase. She gets up, screaming and crying over her precious vase, and she slaps me right across the face." Steve pats his left cheek.
Dustin flinches briefly, but doesn't interrupt. "So now my dad is overwhelmed by my mother carrying on, so he lets my brother go and he takes it out on me. That was my first black eye."
Dustin swallows. "How, uh, how old were you?"
Steve thinks about it for a moment. "It was two weeks after my 8th birthday." He smirks. "I remember because when I woke up the first thing I saw was that crappy clown balloon dying in the corner, slowly deflating. I cried and cried and cried. My brother brought me an ice pack as a thank you. He said, see Steve, this is why you're stupid and you can barely read. Stop taking the punches for others." Steve smirked again, shaking his head.
Dustin didn't smirk though. Something turned his stomach rotten and he wanted to throw up the pizza he just ate. He wanted Steve to share, to open up, he really did. But that story horrified him. It gutted him. "Steve, that's horrible." Dustin said softly, sad eyes watching his big brother.
Steve straightened up. He knew he shouldn't have said anything. "I know. I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"I shouldn't have said anything."
"I asked you to tell me."
"Still." Steve shook his head. "That was wrong of me to do-"
"Does he still beat you?"
Steve blinked. "My dad? No. He stopped coming around when I was 15. Then it was like, a holiday thing. But now? No. I'm too old for him now." Steve bit the inside of his cheek. "I have other things to hit me now."
Dustin remembered the bruises that appeared on Steve's face when Jonathan had beat him up. He hadn't really cared about Steve at that point. Then there was Billy. That had been scary. Dustin thought for sure that Billy was going to kill Steve. He remembers standing there, rooted in his spot, too scared to help. He was ashamed of himself then and he is now. Then there was the Russians. In a selfish, sick way, Dustin was glad he hadn't been there to see that. Steve was a mess. That had been hard to see as well, but they'd had bigger things to worry about at the time.
Then the migraines started and Steve would have bouts of PTSD. Dustin was there for him, as much as he could be, but Steve mostly leaned on Robin. He was there for him when he could be.
But it all made sense now. Steve's been getting his head rocked for ages. No wonder he has migraines. No wonder he has no fear of pain. His tolerance to the blows is so high. It made Dustin sad to think that his big brother was used to pain, but not someone caring enough about him to open up to them. The party had a tendency to use Steve. Dustin wanted to be different.
"Alright, Henderson, what do you say we blow this joint and I take you home?" Steve asked, gathering Dustin's plate with his own. Dustin nodded, grabbing his soda to down the rest while Steve tossed the trash. Together they walked back to the car. On the way to Dustin's house, Dustin told Steve about his new friend, Eddie Munson. Steve didn't look impressed, but he was happy Dustin was making new friends.
It didn't take long before Steve pulled into Dustin's driveway. "Tell your mom I said hello. Oh, and tell her yes, I can come for dinner this Sunday." Steve grinned at Dustin. "She's going to show me your baby pictures." Steve reached forward, pinching Dustin's cheek. Dustin swat his hand away with a glare. "Aw little baby Henderson."
"I'll burn the pictures."
"Not before I get to see them, you won't." Steve was still smiling at him.
Dustin rolled his eyes, his hand going to the door handle. He stopped himself before he opened it, staring forward at his house. He took a breath before releasing it slowly. "Thank you for telling me about your dad."
"Thank you for telling me about yours." Steve said, so affectionate that Dustin could barely handle it. He turned his head to meet Steve's eyes.
"For what it's worth, Steve, I don't think you're stupid at all. I think you're one of the smartest guys I know. Maybe, not with like, science."
"No." Steve softly agreed.
"But you are. You're smart. You're good at strategy and planning and you always know what to do." Dustin paused, looking for the right words to say. "I'm sorry your parents, your family, never let you know that. Maybe if you grew up with a better family you wouldn't doubt yourself so much." Their eyes met, but Steve was at a loss for words. "And I wish you would stop taking the punches for everyone. I wish you would stop getting hurt. You don't deserve that. You deserve better than that. I know you don't think so, but I do." Dustin nodded, affirming his own opinion.
Steve leaned back in his seat, wondering how he wasn't crying at that point. This was, literally, the nicest thing anyone has ever said to him. "Henderson, I-"
"And another thing." Dustin interrupted him. "I-I don't need a dad. I have a big brother who is way cooler and smarter than that jerk ever has been or will be. And you have a little brother who cares about you more than an ice pack worth."
The silence in the car was long and drawn out. Dustin didn't move. He let Steve process everything he said. He had time to sit here for as long as he needed. He didn't care, because Steve needed to hear those things. Dustin meant them.
"I'm okay with taking the hits." Steve said, startling Dustin out of his thoughts. "I'm used to it. It's okay. They'll never break me."
"No. It's not. And I will never hit you, okay? Never." Their eyes met again, and Dustin saw a shine to Steve's. He was holding back tears. "I mean it. You can trust me, Steve." Dustin grabbed his backpack from the back of the car and sat for another moment. "We're family. I got your back." Dustin glanced at him one last time. "See you tomorrow." And with that, he left.
Steve took a moment, letting that feeling sink in. He's loved. The kid loves him. Big brother. Family. It was a lot for him to process. He drove around for hours that night just thinking. Thinking about his family, his found family, his role in this world. His heart felt full for the first time ever.
-----
Dustin turns, eyes angry, hungry for retribution. The man in front of him, his brother, breathes heavy, getting up on his hands and knees. Their eyes meet, anger meeting sorrow, disgust meeting fear.
"Alright, Dustin." Steve's voice is deep, low, the sound of a big brother trying to reach his little brother. Dustin, not Henderson. This is a moment between them. This is personal. This is a defining moment.
And that's when Dustin swung, his fist meeting Steve's jaw. Steve's head jerks to the side, his hand reaching up to touch where Dustin hit him but he didn't have any time, because Dustin was angry. Inconceivably angry. So Dustin is up in a second. Steve sees him moving, and he's faster, getting up himself. Dustin's hands reach Steve's chest, shoving him back. Steve's back hits the wall but he's not stunned. Instead he uses that moment to wrap his arms around him.
"Stop man!" Steve tries to control him. Dustin keeps fighting him. "Enough!" Steve swings Dustin around, trying to get him to stop. "Enough!" This time the yell comes out more as a plea. Dustin takes the moment to kick the wall, propelling them backwards so Steve's back hit the wall, again. This time it did stun him enough to let Dustin go, the two of them crumbling to the ground.
They lay there for a second, out of breath, but Steve's already trying to get up. His mind is reeling. His eyes burned with tears as he got on his hands and knees. "You know what, man?" He sniffles. His breath hitches, fighting to keep his emotions at bay. "I'm done." His voice breaks just a little, betraying him, sounding like he was crying. His mind went back to a place it hasn't been in since he was 15. Take the beating, get up, run. So that's what he does.
Steve gets up, but Dustin continues to lay on the ground. Dustin's mind is going a mile a minute. His anger starts to fade, but remains right under the surface. What did he do? What did he do? He doesn't look up as Steve walks around him, guilt and shame making his heart race. As Steve walks by, Dustin starts to sit up, hearing Steve's uneven, shaky breathing. He's crying. But so is Dustin, tears freely running down his face.
"I'm done." Steve announces, his voice more firm, putting up the illusion that he wasn't just as heartbroken, if not more, as Dustin was.
For some reason this made Dustin angry all over again. Not as angry because he felt so, so defeated. "Oh yeah just go and crawl back to Nance!" Dustin called after him, the tears still streaming down his face. He wanted to hurt Steve. He wanted to hurt him, so bad. "You dumb, fake asshole!" He was losing steam, and his anger was disappearing as fast as it arrived.
Dustin looked at where Steve had walked off. Nothing. He was gone. Dustin slid back against the wall and started to pull his knees up to his chest. He couldn't stop the tears that were falling. He felt so conflicted. He crossed a line. He knew it. He cared and at the same time he didn't. It felt so fucking good to blow some steam off. It felt so fucking good to hit, rather than be hit. He felt like a load was removed from his chest, a weight lifted from his shoulders. It felt good.
But the other part of him couldn't stop thinking about the person he'd taken it all out on. Steve had been out of line, talking about Eddie the way he did. Eddie was better than Steve in every way, or so he convinced himself. Steve's lucky he's still walking, as far as Dustin was concerned. But deep beneath that thought, deep beneath the anger, Dustin was devastated. Deep beneath the grief and the trauma, Dustin was shocked.
More than anything, he felt guilt. Steve had opened up, years ago, about the abuse he suffered at the hands of his father. It had devastated him when he imagined Steve's father's fists barrelling into Steve's face. And now, was he any better? He hadn't lifted a hand to Dustin once. He's thrown the toy at his face, hitting his cheek. He's thrown other things at him, tackled him, slammed him, punched him. Steve hadn't lifted a hand once.
"God damn it." Dustin let the back of his head hit the wall, aggressively swiping at his fallen tears. He looked down at the fist that had struck Steve, his knuckles getting a little red. He hates himself right now. He has to apologize. He has to let the anger go. He has to let the self righteousness go. Steve was wrong, but Dustin had been physical. "God damn it." He whispered again, before pushing himself up to go find Steve. When he found him, Steve wouldn't look at him. He was sniffling in the corner. And Dustin's pride wouldn't let him apologize.
-----
At the end of it all, Dustin had apologized, kind of. It was the heat of the moment. Dustin knew. He knew the ladder wouldn't work. He'd begged. He'd pleaded. Steve wasn't listening. He was going to climb on that ladder and he was going to die. A cold, familiar feeling spread through his chest. Fear. Steve was always rushing to take the hits, go into danger, sacrifice himself. This couldn't happen. Dustin couldn't lose Steve. He could barely handle losing Eddie, but Steve? That would be absolutely world ending.
Fortunately, just as Steve put a foot on the ladder, Dustin had been able to grab him. It all rushed out of him. He was scared, so fucking scared. Not him. Not Steve. Not Steve. And in the end he'd hugged him as tight as he could, Steve's own arm around him, his hand on the back of Dustin's head. "I'm sorry." Dustin sobbed.
"No, no, no." Steve whispered to him, just before the ladder fell.
It had been a close call. Too close of a call. It left Dustin unnerved and it set something straight in him. His anger, grief, and disgust seemed to dissipate. He had to let it go. He had to, because he almost lost Steve. Some things were more important.
The two of them walked side by side down some long hallway. Dustin swallowed, glancing at Steve. "I hit you." He said, softly, a little shy. "I punched you."
Steve shrugged. "No offense, kid, but you had a weak hit. Probably won't even bruise."
Bruise. Probably won't. The words settled in Dustin's chest. "Doesn't make it right."
Steve shrugged, again, seemingly not wanting to discuss this. "Consider it forgotten. You did just save my life and all."
But Dustin didn't want to drop it. He stopped walking, which made Steve stop too, turning to look at him. "I told you I would never hit you."
Dustin could practically see the memory process in Steve's head. He saw a certain sadness flash in his brown eyes. It made Dustin ache. "It's okay, Henderson." Steve said, because that's what he always said. He was never the priority. Never worth the argument. Never worth the fight.
"No, it's not. It was wrong and I shouldn't have done it. You didn't deserve it." Steve didn't seem convinced, and Dustin wanted to cry again. "You never lifted your hands against me."
"Why would I? You had every right-"
"No." Dustin took a step forward. "No I didn't. I'm sorry, Steve. I am so, so sorry. If I could go back in time and take it back I would. I understand if you never trust me again. I'll make it up to you. I promise." Dustin's eyes were burning. "I hate that I did that."
Steve watched him for a moment. "Dustin. I don't need you to make up anything to me. I will always trust you. I know you're upset, but kid, I promise you we're alright." Steve clapped a hand on Dustin's shoulder. "I accept your apology if you'll accept mine."
Dustin bit his lip. "You were right-"
"Doesn't matter if I was or wasn't. It was the delivery. I'm sorry I said those things. I'm sorry I haven't been a better big brother." Steve grinned sadly at him.
"I'm sorry I haven't been a better little brother."
There was a moment of silence between them, but it was important. It was them crossing a bridge. It was them leaving all this bullshit in the past. Steve grinned for real now, clapping his hand down on Dustin's head gently twice. Dustin chuckled, smiling for real now as well. "We gotta work on your hits though, man."
"I think I hold my own."
"Do you?" Steve laughed, his hand going to Dustin's back to gently push him forward, the past in the past.