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They ended up having a funeral for El.
It was small, with simply just the full party. Hopper had suggested it- after all, it had been two months since the events of November 6th. It was a way to honor her- her bravery, her sacrifice. A way to grieve the life she had had.
The life she should have had.
That’s what Dustin said, anyway, in the car on the way back. The boys had matching black suits, Dustin’s a little more crumpled, a little shorter on the sleeves and ankles. And the kid’s face…the kid’s face-
It was blotchy and red and tear stained. From sitting on the steps of Hopper’s cabin and burying himself into Steve and crying until he didn’t seem to have it in him anymore.
And that, more than anything, broke Steve’s heart.
It was mostly silent on the ride back. Dustin was too exhausted to talk, and Steve simply didn’t know what to say. What would he? I’m sorry that your friend died because the godforsaken government wouldn’t let her live in peace? I’m sorry that I couldn’t keep you from losing someone you care about again? I’m sorry that I couldn’t protect you, couldn’t keep that devastating look off your face?
But Steve couldn’t bring himself to say that. Instead he said nothing.
They got back to Dustin’s house in a pretty short amount of time. Claudia was working double shifts, so it was just going to be Steve and Dustin for a day or two. Dustin kicked off his shoes, hung up his coat, and undid his tie as soon as he got into the house. It seemed like all his energy was completely, utterly drained. And Steve couldn't blame him- course he couldn't. So he just picked up after the kid while Dustin sank into the couch and turned on a random channel.
"You need anything?" He asked softly.
Dustin didn't look at him, just shook his head and closed his eyes.
Steve hated this. Hated how defeated Dustin looked. How tired the kid was. He hated that his best friend woke up screaming every night, crying out from invisible monsters. Invisible monsters that were once too real.
Steve wanted to sink down onto that couch with him, to fall asleep watching TV, holding his little brother's pulse. Like he always did. But there were too many thoughts swirling around inside his head, loud like the hallways in high school. Of people saying who let them down and who didn't keep their promise and whose fault it was that all the bad things in the world were happening to them and his fault his fault his fault-
Steve shook his head, banishing the never ending cacophony of pain that seemed to be his entire life.
"Hey, uh- bud I'm gonna make some dinner for us," He called over. Dustin just looked at him with tired eyes. "Is there anything specific you want?"
"No thanks." Dustin says quietly, laying down fully on the couch now, and wow- manners? From Dustin Henderson? Poor kid.
So Steve just scavenges through the pantry until he can find something easy to make. Steve can cook, he can, but he isn't good at making the homey, comforting dishes Dustin's used to his mom making when he's sad, so Steve just has to do what he can to try to make up for it.
He settles on mac-and-cheese. It's one of Dustin's favorites, and Steve actually knows how to make the cheese the way Dustin likes it, so he takes this decision as a win. He turns on the stove to start boiling the water for the noodles, watching as the bubbles start appearing, getting whiter and whiter, rising higher and higher, and-
And suddenly, for a moment, he's back in that goddamn lab. And the walls are melting in the same white, bubbly way. And he's frozen on his feet because Dustin is sobbing, screaming at him to not go on the later, not let it happen again, please don't let it happen again.
And did he let it happen again? How many times did he almost fucking die? Almost left Dustin alone, after he begged him not to. "You die, I die." what a stupid thing to say to the kid, after he'd shown that he would've gone through with it, now that Steve knows that-
Now Dustin's lost another friend, one of the kids that Steve was supposed to protect, and he just stood there. Staring at her like an idiot- not trying to get her to come back, hell- not even trying to help Dustin, because the kid had been yelling at the top of his lungs and was in the arms of a fucking soldier and Steve hadn't done anything.
How many nightmares could have been avoided if Steve had been more careful? How many nights waking up to the kid screaming in terror or in grief because Steve was too slow, because Steve didn't make the right move, because Steve-
Suddenly, he's startled back to the present as a sharp hiss emerges from the stove, because the stupid goddamn water boiled over.
"Shit." Steve muttered, turning the heat down and cleaning up the mess he made.
"You okay?" Dustin hollered from the other room.
"Fine!" Steve yelled back. "Water just boiled over. Everything's fine!"
The younger boy pops his head into the kitchen, wrinkling his nose at the smell of the burnt water. "You're saying fine a lot. Which. Normally means thing's aren't fine."
"All good here!" Steve quips, and shit, that was way too enthusiastic.
Dustin stares at him, eyes narrowing as he examines the older boy's demeanor. His eyes widen slightly for a second, concern that most definitely shouldn't be there lacing his eyes.
"Were you crying?"
"What?" Was he? "No! Jeez, dude, I'm all good. Just the stupid water. Go lay down."
Dustin hesitates, but Steve just ushers him out, watching to make sure he lays back down on the couch again, ignoring the glances the kid keeps sending him, full of skepticism and concern.
Steve makes the mac and cheese, trying to ignore the shakiness of his hands, the voice screaming in his ear, the deep ache in his heart.
It's pretty quiet now, just the two of them, sitting leg to leg, eating dinner while the TV plays some stupid commercial. But Dustin just keeps glancing at him with that same look in his eyes, and it's supposed to be Steve's job to worry, not his.
That just makes the little voice yell louder.
Eventually, once they've finished and have relaxed against the couch more, Dustin turns to him and says, "Are you sure you're okay?"
Jesus Christ, can't the kid just stop worrying? "Uh, yeah? I told you."
"Steve," Dustin says softly, his chin now resting on Steve's shoulder. "Y'know you can talk to me too, right? This best friend-brother business goes both ways."
For a second, Steve considers it. Considers telling Dustin about that little voice going off in his ear, screaming at him all the ways he messed up.
But Dustin's a kid with his own problems. He doesn't need to have Steve's added to his pile too.
So instead Steve just rests his head on top of the younger boy's and whispers, "I know."
***
He's back there again. Back in the lab. But he can't seem to pinpoint where he is- only that Dustin's crying somewhere and the walls are still melting and- and-
He spins around and sees himself. Except, it's not in a mirror or a reflection or even staring straight back at himself in general, like one of those weird movies the kid had forced him to watch. No. He was looking at his body- mangled and bleeding and oh my god Steve knows where he is now.
He looks up and, yep, there's the staircase, trailing on up forever. He notices the ladder is down here too, and shit, is this the type of stuff Dustin sees in his dreams? If Steve had been just a bit more stupid and tried to actually climb the ladder? Jesus Christ.
But Dustin is still crying and Steve can't take it anymore, he needs to let the boy know that he's right here, that he's okay, that he's going to keep his promise. He starts sprinting up the stairs, yelling out to his best friend that he's coming. But the goo that the walls are melting into is getting thicker and it's piling up around Steve's feet...
He's almost to Dustin when the floor caves in and he's sent down towards the bottom and-
Instead he's back on that goddamn tower, the tower that haunts both his and Dustin's dreams. This time Dustin is screaming for him instead of crying and he only gets a glance at Dustin's face- which is scrunched up in panic, tears in his eyes so glassy it reflects Steve's face- before he's falling again.
But there's no hand that reaches down to get him. Jonathon isn't close enough. Steve's heart is shattered into a million pieces yet again because as he falls he can hear the screams of his little brother.
The ground doesn't come soon enough.
Whatever hellscape he's in isn't over yet though, because his eyes fly open and he looks around and it's sandy, and the sky is yellow, and the fucking Mindflayer is chasing them again.
His eyes dart around for Dustin. He knows exactly where the kid is right now because this particular moment is etched into his brain, on repeat nearly every night in his dreams.
Dustin's running- or, was. But he's fallen on the ground and all Steve can do is scream for him because he's too far away but Lucas will, Lucas has to-
He looks to where Lucas is supposed to be and he's not there. He's not there.
No no no no NO-
He looks away cause he can't see what's about to happen or he'll throw up. But after a beat he looks up and the Mindflayer has already moved passed Dustin. Dustin, who is lying in a pool of blood. Dustin who was just impaled by the mindflayer.
And Steve's world crumples.
A guttural scream of pure agony leaves his body and he takes off towards the boy, thinking that if he can get to him maybe he can fix this, maybe he can make it better.
He falls to his knees in front of Dustin as his hands hover above the boy. He doesn't know where to put them.
"Hey, hey," He says, and he doesn't recognize his own voice. It sounds like it went through the garbage disposal. "Buddy I'm here. I'm here I'm gonna fix this-"
Dustin opens his mouth to speak, but all that comes out is blood. Steve forces back vomit, trying to see through the tears that have suddenly clouds his vision. He delicately maneuvers Dustin onto his lap, murmuring apologies as the kid cries out in pain. He cradles him close, hoping maybe Dustin will find some comfort in it before- before-
Then Dustin starts choking out, "I don't wanna die- Please, Steve I don't wanna die-"
Steve can't breathe. He feels like he's the one with the gaping hole in him, bleeding out. His lungs are constricting on him and his heart hurts so bad, like someone put a match to it, and he's gonna die right here with him.
"You're okay. You're okay Dusty," He's sobbing now, because this can't be it. "I'm right here. I'm right here Dee. Please, just hold on a little longer. I need you to hold on a little longer."
But he can feel Dustin growing slack in his hold. The kid's cries are stifled now and his grip on Steve's jacket has loosened, and all Steve can do is sob into the younger boy's hair. Beg him not to go.
In the end, he does. His head rolls back, his arms drop from Steve's jacket, and he's gone.
He's. Gone.
Steve can't feel anything but fire in his skull screaming so loud that it's hurting his head and everything around him is a cycle of Dustin's blood and the voice saying all the way he messed up and Dustin growing cold and his brain on fire from the screaming and is that the kid screaming at him? and more of Dustin's blood and YOUR FAULT YOUR FAULT YOUR-
"Steve!"
Steve's eyes shoot open and he jets up, nearly colliding with someone. Steve doesn't even notice he's there, because he feels completely underwater. His eyes are too glassed over in tears to see, and the blood is rushing so loudly in his ears that everything is muffled, and he can't breathe, he can't breathe-
He clutches at his chest, taking big, gasping breaths that only make him thirst for more, but it doesn't seem like he can. Because his best friend is dead and he can't breathe without him, not when it was his fault.
Everything is swirling around him, like that one painting by Van Gough Nancy showed him years ago. He can somewhat make out a figure, talking to him, clutching at his shoulders. But Steve is drowning, Steve is drowning and nothing else matters besides his baby brother is dead, and it's Steve's fault because if Steve was faster, if Steve had tried harder, he could've stopped it. It could've been him, it should've been him.
He's hyperventilating now, and he feels like throwing up. The figure rises slightly, like he knows what Steve's done, he knows he doesn't deserve comfort, and for a moment it seems like he's about to leave-
Instead, his head is pulled by a small hand towards something soft, the blood rushing in his ears and screaming in his skull is replaced by a slightly too fast, yet gentle and steady beat of a heart.
Dustin's heart.
Steve's vision clears and he realizes the figure is Dustin. Dustin- who is sitting on his knees beside Steve, holding him with one arm wrapped around his shoulders, another pressing his head to the kid's heart, his fingers gently combing the hair near his neck. A perfect rendition of how Steve had held him so many times.
Steve desperately wants to pull away, to switch places because he's Dustin's bit brother. He's supposed to comfort the kid. But all Steve can think about is the beat of Dustin's heart, reminding the older boy that he was here, that he was alive-
So Steve lets himself be held. He just buries a hand in Dustin's hair, keeping his ear as close to the younger boy’s heart as he could get, breathing him in. He lets himself relinquish in the feeling of the person next to him.
The kid- though quite a bit smaller than Steve- held him tightly. Copying what Steve had done thousands of times; running his hand through Steve’s hair, rocking them slowly back and forth, murmuring soft words of comfort.
“You’re okay. You’re safe.” Dustin whispers into his hair.
Steve is still choking on sobs. It’s lessened, but he can’t get the image of Dustin lying in a pool of his own blood out of his head. He can still hear the most important person in his life choking on said blood, sobbing and begging him not to let him die.
”Dust-“ Steve gasps. “Are you-“
”I’m all good,” Dustin says, like he knew exactly what Steve was going to ask. “It was a dream, buddy.”
He can feel Dustin start to exaggerate his breaths. They’re full, and slow, and soon enough Steve starts to do it too. The fog inside his brain slowly clears due to his breath evening out and the comforting, steady beat of Dustin’s heart calming his panic.
Once the fog has completely cleared, Steve turns into Dustin. He rests his chin on the boy’s shoulder and pulls the kid’s head down into his own. Still being held, except now he’s holding Dustin too.
After a couple minutes of clutching at each other tightly, as if the other might slip away if they let go, Steve pulls back just enough to see the younger boy’s face. He’s got that same concerned look in his eyes as earlier, the one Steve hates, but they’re still holding each other.
So all Steve can do is whisper, “Thank you.”
”Duh,” Dustin smiles softly. “Both ways, remember?”
This time Steve’s heart is hurting with how thankful he is for this kid. He lets himself be a sap for a second and kisses Dustin’s forehead, pulling them back to the position they were in before.
Eventually, after Steve starts to think Dustin might be falling asleep, the boy mumbles into his shoulder, “Do you wanna talk about it?”
Steve hesitates, “Dust… it’s not your job to deal with my problems.
”Yes it is,” Dustin sounds irritated, actually. “Yes, Steve. It doesn’t matter if I’m younger than you- I’m still your best friend and whether you like it or not, it is in fact my job to make sure you’re okay. And I want to. So please talk to me because I know something is wrong.”
He pulls away and settles himself firmly in front of the older boy. And all Steve can do is sigh and give in because Dustin’s the most stubborn person he knows and despite the voice in his head, he really needs to let this out.
”It’s just-“ He isn’t sure where to start. “Well, the nightmare was another one of those hellscapes. Y’know, when everything goes wrong and we die a million times?”
Dustin nods, reaching out and putting Steve’s hand on his wrist.
Ba-bum, ba-bum, ba-bum.
”The last part though- um. It was about when you fell, during the chase. And like always, I didn’t get there in time and you got hit. But- but it felt so real this time and for a moment it was like you actually…”
He shakes his head as he trails off. “Yeah.”
”Is that everything,” Dustin asks, and there’s no impatience in his voice, just overwhelming care and concern. “Because earlier you seemed off and I didn’t know if it wasn’t just your nightmares bothering you.”
Steve didn’t really want to tell Dustin that. He was already burdening him with these goddamn nightmares. But once again, Dustin was a stubborn little shit who would just keep asking him until he gave in. There was no use trying to hide it from him.
“I dunno. It’s just- there’s always this little voice in my head screaming at me of all the ways I screwed up. Like that I should’ve done more to make sure you didn’t get so fucking traumatized or I should’ve listened to you better, or- or done something to stop El-“
Dustin shakes his head, grabbing Steve’s shoulders. “But there was nothing you could’ve done! Steve- if things had happened differently you could’ve died!”
”I just- Dustin,” Don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry. “I’m supposed to protect you. I’m supposed to make sure nothing bad happens to you or those kids and now you have nightmares every night, and one of your best friends is dead and I don’t know how anyone could think that wasn’t my fault.”
Then suddenly he has an armful of Dustin again, who buries his hand in Steve’s hair and shoves his nose into Steve’s neck.
“That was not. Your. Fault.” He says roughly. “You did everything you could. And Steve, you were protecting us. You have been since ‘84 and none of blame you whatsoever.”
He squeezes the older boy tighter. “We love you so much. I love you so much. And I’ll tell you a thousand times over that you did everything right. Because you did. Understand?”
Steve doesn’t say anything. Just buries his face in Dustin’s hair and nods.
Maybe he’ll let himself believe it. Maybe he’ll let the words of his little brother drown out the screaming, because whatever Dustin has to say is more important anyway.
Maybe he’ll let himself be taken care of for a little bit. Allow himself to be small and loved because he’s got his best friend right here. His best friend who loves him, who believes in him.
So, at least right now, he does.