Chapter Text
【1】
After witnessing Vecna's body burn, Steve and his companions spent quite a while recovering from the tension, each wearing a complex expression, feeling both relieved and confused.
The sound of the earth splitting was clearly heard both sides of Hawkins.
"Dustin? Dustin, are you there? What's going on over there?" Steve fiddled with his walkie-talkie, but there was no response. "Lucas? Erica? Anyone, just answer me!"
"Have we... won? Or things are even worse?" Robin asked, there was a tremor in her voice.
Nancy and Jonathan fell silent.
"Screw it, let's get out of this goddamn place and meet up with the others," Steve said, his voice trembling, revealing the disquiet he felt inside.
But his disquiet wasn't just because Hawkins had split open—he desperately wanted to make sure that everyone is alright. No one's mission could be considered safe, anyone could die under the claws of that rafflesia-faced monster.
Especially Dustin—he and Eddie went down into the Upsidedown dressed like a couple of goddamn cavemen cosplaying as D&D heroes, complete with ghillie suits and medieval weapons. Did they escape? Why hadn't Dustin contacted them yet?
The other three companions shared the same worries, so they decided to leave as quickly as possible.
Nancy and Jonathan exited the Upsidedown directly to look for the others on the surface, while Steve and Robin planned to bike straight from the Upsidedown to the trailer park.
They soon arrived outside the trailer park. Before they could enter, Robin suddenly shouted, she hurriedly stopped her bike and ran toward the iron fence of the trailer park.
Steve looked in the direction she had run and saw a sight that made his heartbeat nearly stop.
Dustin was collapsed on top of Eddie who was covered by blood, one of Dustin’s legs twisted at a strange angle. They were completely still, terribly quiet, with dead bats scattered around them.
Steve didn’t know how he ran over and scooped Dustin into his arms. The whole process didn’t cost ten seconds, but this process just felt like a fragmented nightmare. He only remembered urgently lifting Dustin onto his knees—the boy, now much grown, seemed to turn back into that little child from years ago, looking so fragile and haggard, a sight that shattered him. Tears clung to his curled lashes in strands, drying on his still-chubby young cheeks, marking the immense pain he had just endured.
Then Steve found there was blood on his lower back, still warm from Dustin’s body, soaking Steve's dirt-covered hands.
He wanted to scream, or repeat Dustin’s name, or grab the walkie-talkie to try to contact the others for an ambulance, or do anything, or just cry, or, or, or, or do something, or something, anything...
But he couldn’t do anything, he felt like a part of himself had flowed away with that blood.
"Steve! Steve! Steve Harrington!"
Robin's voice, choked with sobs, that finally made him lift his head. Then he saw Robin holding Eddie's now blue-gray hand—the older boy's abdomen was completely torn open, the blood already drained, and those eyes that used to be spirited were staring blankly, not knowing what they were looking at in the end. Steve's expression became stunned and bewildered. He quietly held Dustin, staring at Robin's tear-streaked face. "We, we have to..." Steve swallowed hard, dizzy, "We have to take them back."
What followed was long, very long. Steve carried Dustin's now cold body on his back, like carrying a heavy coffin, a weight that would become a nightmare clinging to him. His free hand helped Robin to hold Eddie up. Robin's broken sobs mixed with the harsh wind of the underworld, like the most desperate dirge. They staggered along, silent, this short distance felt like a long time.
Steve didn’t cry, he couldn’t cry. It seemed that crying would confirm that the person on his back had completely left, and he couldn't do that.
Dustin had just fainted; witnessing Eddie's death must have made him break down in tears, so he fainted from crying.
After returning to the upper world, the moment Steve and Robin set the two down, Robin threw herself on Steve and hugged him tightly. Steve gently stroked Robin's hair to comfort her, but his gaze was fixed on the boy curled up quietly nearby, terrifying in his stillness. Then Steve's mouth drew into a stiff smile. He told himself: Luckily, Dustin didn’t die, he just fainted.
【2】
The moment Steve handed Eddie's guitar pick to Eddie's uncle, he saw that middle-aged man seem to age ten years instantly. This made him wonder if the same aging was spreading across his own face.
“Eddie is a hero.” Not 'was.' He didn’t announce the death, he vaguely told Eddie’s uncle that he was with Eddie when the earthquake happened. Even though he knew Eddie's uncle could hardly be unaware.
Then he quietly sat next to the man, one hand clutching the two rings hanging around his neck: one was Eddie's ring, eventually worn by Dustin, stained with both of their blood, the other was a similarly styled ring Dustin had gotten from a second-hand market. He had once begged Steve to try that rock style too, but Steve refused.
In the chaotic, noisy temporary shelter, the most unknown moment of mourning took place. But it wasn’t truly unknown.
—Robin knew. She watched Steve’s silent figure from afar, her brow tightly furrowed.
“Maybe you should persuade him to seek psychological therapy.” Vickie couldn’t help but say.
“You don’t know how important that kid is to him,” Robin shook her head. “That day...”
Robin recalled that day: once they finally brought the two of them back to the real world, Steve tightly held Dustin in his arms, his fingers almost tearing Dustin’s blood-soaked clothes, yet his expression was terrifyingly calm.
She remembered softly telling him: we need to notify everyone and deal with this together, notify their families...
Steve shook his head: “I’ll find a perfect time to tell Eddie’s uncle about this, otherwise he won’t be able to accept it.”
“I’m not just talking about Eddie...” Robin swallowed. “Also Dustin.”
A trace of doubt appeared on the young man’s face, then he smiled: “What are you talking about? I’ll take good care of him.”
Robin watched in pain as Steve tightly gripped Dustin’s body, the wound from the bat bite dripped more blood, tick-tock, all falling onto Steve’s boots, though he seemed unaware.
“Steve, he’s completely gone.” Robin didn’t remember how she spoke the words.
She only remembered Steve standing in the shadows, his neck stiffly bent, looking down at the bleeding back of the boy in his arms, still with a confused expression.
Then he collapsed straight down, falling heavily on a pile together with Dustin.
“Robin! Robin!!” Her girlfriend’s anxious calls brought Robin back to her senses. She was tear-streaked and gasping for breath, embraced by her girlfriend who gently patted her back.
“I'm sorry... I'm sorry...”
“You don't need to apologize. You need to rest. Your PTSD flared up.” Vickie kissed Robin gently on the temple with concern.
Robin hugged her back and glanced out of the corner of her eye at the distant figure of her friend, a wave of sorrow rising in her chest. She had Vickie’s embrace, yet the one who had always been by Steve’s side giving him strength had now become a source of his pain.
Jonathan and Nancy came over from the Wheeler house, bringing more supplies to the shelter. They saw Steve, Robin, and Vickie helping out. The two girls looked tired, and Nancy, knowing what Robin had been through, went over and patted her on the shoulder. Then her gaze shifted to Steve, who should have been in worse shape but instead looked energetic, her concern barely concealed.
“Steve,” Jonathan hesitated before calling. Steve looked up at him, “What’s up?”
“The new necklace, it looks nice.”
Steve glanced down at the ring on his chest and smiled, a smile as bright as if Hawkins had never been split by Vecna. That smile, fused with happiness on his handsome face, was dazzlingly intense.
“This is my lover’s thing.”
Voice and time briefly disappeared in that small circle of four friends, they exchanged glances, and no one spoke.
“What’s wrong?” Steve tucked the ring back under his collar. “I’m King Steve, having a date is just my routine.”
“Do you realize thoes ring are...” Jonathan’s voice trembled slightly.
Nancy stopped him and spoke first: “That’s okay, Steve.”
“I’m so sorry I haven’t told anyone about this, but Vecna’s stuff was too sudden—it wasn’t the right time to speak up.” Steve relaxed, leaning back against the wall, facing the four of them.
“I’ve known for a while that that kid has a crush on me, but I wasn’t sure how I felt, and he’s so young. I thought I’d wait until he at least graduated and figured out his true feelings... but after what happened recently, I realized there’s no time for me to wait.”
“I know what you all are thinking.” He stared down at the bump of the ring on his chest.
“I’m waiting for him to come back. As long as he comes back, as long as he speaks, I will definitely say yes.”
When Steve raised his head again, his eyes were alarmingly red, and that dazzling mask was on the verge of breaking.
Robin looked at him, her breath catching. She knew Steve was serious, this poor guy was living on this hope.
【3】
Eddie's funeral was held quietly, because his crimes haven’t been cleared yet. To give Eddie and his uncle some peace, only those who were aware of the situation came to pay their respects.
Steve stood in front of Eddie's gravestone holding a flower, gently put it down, brushed off some dirt from it, and said, "That kid ought to be here to see you off, but he’s still not back. That little shit, right?"
"This flower is on his behalf."
Everyone tacitly agreed not to expose the pretense, merely watching silently.
Steve didn’t attend Dustin's funeral, not even once standing in front of his grave.
He lived every day as usual, as if Dustin had never died.
The situation with Vecna was not over, everyone pulled themselves together, starting to plan how to find and kill that bastard.
Without Dustin, many things couldn’t proceed. Erica had a sudden idea and thought of Mr. Clarke, that king nerd who taught Dustin everything. With Dustin gone, there was no need to hide anything from Mr. Clarke anymore.
Moreover, Mr. Clarke had a new student... or perhaps it shouldn’t be called a new student, since Clarke had taught this guy before, though he had never actually paid attention during Clarke’s lessons.
Steve rummaged through the old textbooks and Dustin's esoteric physics materials at home, studying them every day. If he couldn't understand something inside, he went to Mr. Clarke for help.
"You know, Harrington, you don’t need to understand these. The technical stuff, Erica and I will handle," Mr. Clarke said.
"No, I want to learn it," Steve looked at Clarke seriously. "Of course, I hope I can help too, but I really want to learn."
"Are you preparing to apply to college?"
"Yeah, after we solve the Vecna problem."
"Where are you planning to apply?"
"Caltech."
"Are you kidding me?" Clarke almost laughed, "I’m not underestimating you, but do you know how hard it is to get in there with your background?"
Steve shrugged, "It’s Dustin’s dream college."
Clarke was stunned. He remembered that his favorite student did have a strong desire to attend Caltech.
"Eh..." A wave of sudden sadness made Clarke's voice tremble slightly, but he recalled others’ advice—not to touch Steve’s grief—so he restrained his sorrow and said softly, "If you just want to see him more often, other colleges closer by are also an option."
Steve pressed his lips together and nodded, "Okay, I’ll do my best regardless anyway."
Steve Harrington, who hadn’t seriously read a book in six years of middle school, adjusted his new glasses, grinning as he flipped open a book.
"Steve has completely lost his mind," Lucas whispered to the two friends with a hissing tone.
Mike stared at Steve, who was sitting at the table fiddling with dice, and stood awkwardly by the sofa, not knowing what to do. Will wanted to speak but hesitated, and was several times dissuaded by Lucas' gaze.
Since Dustin’s death, they hadn’t gone down to the basement to play D&D for a long time. Without their bard, they were even somewhat afraid to approach that room. Losing this important friend was a huge blow to everyone.
But it seemed that, aside from Mrs. Henderson, the one most hurt was Steve.
Steve went to help Mrs. Henderson with some chores every day, doing bits and pieces of housework, but seldom stayed long, because Mrs. Henderson’s grief was unabashed, and no one had the right to ask her to pretend in front of anyone that her son was still alive. But Steve couldn’t handle this.
Besides these, there were also crawls to deal with Vecna — by the way, he did very well, completely undistracted by sadness, perhaps even a bit overzealous — and when he had free time, he would either read those physics books or visit Mr. Clarke. He was practically trying to live the way Dustin did. Obviously, he was trying to recreate another part of Dustin, so he came to Dustin’s three best friends to play the game he was most obsessed with.
"What are you guys doing? I’m new here, you have to teach me!" Steve shouted to them.
Three boys exchanged glances, and finally, Mike spoke, "Steve… the crawl stuff has been exhausting lately, we honestly don’t feel like playing right now."
"There’s no mission tonight! Come on, kids! You need to relax a bit!"
"Just promise him," Will said softly, his face betraying his pain. "He needs this."
Mike and Lucas exchanged a look, took a deep breath, and looked toward the table where they had played countless games of D&D. For them, this was difficult as well.
Lucas gave a wry smile: "It feels like there’s always someone missing at this table."
"I’m back," Will said. "Maybe we also need to believe a little in things that seem impossible, like Steve does."
"Yeah, at least that way we can keep moving forward. For our friend." Mike patted their shoulders and led them toward the table.
"Come on, Steve, welcome to the world of D&D."
【4】(*Personal note: Moved up 008's return a bit)
Holly's disappearance pushed the WSQK crew's efforts against Vecna into a new phase. And the return of Eight shocked everyone.
At Mike's request, El approached Kali about creating an illusion for Steve.
"I can't maintain this illusion forever," Kali shook her head.
"You don't have to maintain it forever, we just need 'Dustin' to say a proper goodbye to him."
Kali looked into her sister's sincere eyes and sighed, "I can try, but I can't guarantee what the outcome will be."
"Thank you," El said. Kali squeezed her hand and nodded.
"So, this wormhole can be strong enough to twist time and space?" Steve was twirling a pen, focusing on the funnel Clarke had drawn.
"To be precise, time itself is a measure defined by humans. It doesn't exist. It's just our perception," Clarke explained.
Steve frowned in confusion.
"Existence is existence. If something exists, it wouldn't truly disappear, it just stops being observable at a certain point," Clarke said.
"Oh! I get it. That's why the Upsidedown reappears the whole Hawkins as it was before Will was taken, right? Because the wormhole open at that moment retains everything that existed in that state!"
Clarke widened his eyes in surprise, "Hmm, that's an interesting analysis. I can't confirm it without real investigation, but this idea is highly possible. I didn't expect you to be quite smart."
Steve blinked, "I learn from the best."
Clarke smiled, knowing Steve wasn’t complimenting him. Steve meant someone else.
"So, do you think it’s the same for people?" Steve asked.
Clarke paused, meeting Steve’s wide, expectant eyes.
"People are also a form of existence, even a thinking existence. If time itself is a non-existent concept, does that mean some people are just absent in our current perception?"
Steve was hinting at something, and they both understood.
"It’s like Schrödinger’s cat. When you can’t observe it, its state can be anything." Unless you’ve already seen his bloody, broken body with your own eyes.
"If a wormhole could make it possible for us to observe things that have disappeared in this timeline, does that mean...theoretically, if you can open a wormhole, Schrödinger’s observers can see anything possible? If someone observers the cat alive in real life, can it be alive? If you can change the result you see, no matter the method or what has happened, does that result collapse into reality?"
Steve pressed on, speaking quickly, growing more and more excited as he stood up.
Clarke felt a bit dazed, as if he saw that lively Dustin right in front of him, but then he was overcome with inexplicable worry.
"Steve... what are you trying to do?"
Mr.Clarke patted Steve on the shoulder.
Steve's smile froze on his face, as if he realized he was a bit too excited, and then he restrained himself a little and sat back on the sofa.
"Mr. Clarke, don't worry, I’m not going to do anything silly."
Steve drove home, after getting out of the car, he walked toward the front door as usual, when he suddenly saw a familiar figure sitting on the steps.
He couldn't tell whether the sunset was too dazzling, making the backlit scene appear too dreamlike, or if this small town had perhaps already been completely eroded by Vecna, ready to fall into an illusion at any moment.
But if it really was Vecna's doing, at this moment Steve even wanted to thank him.
—Because the boy sitting on the steps was Dustin, his soft curls peeking out from under his hat glinting in the sunlight, his backpack placed beside him, looking a little impatient as he pouted at Steve.
If this was Vecna's illusion, he could finally take one last look at him and then be taken to some timeless place.
"Steve, you're so slow." Dustin stood up and ran to him, proudly lifting his head, "I've been accepted early to Caltech, I'm leaving tomorrow! I thought you know?"
"...Tomorrow?" Steve asked softly, his voice starting to tremble unconsciously.
"Tomorrow!" Dustin said with a smile, gently patting Steve’s arm. "I came to say goodbye to you."
Steve grabbed his hand, pulling him a little closer, while his other hand cupped Dustin’s face—a warm, unscarred face. He carefully stroked it for a moment, as if a little more force would make this scene disappear completely.
And Dustin just smiled, with no other reaction.
This couldn’t be his Dustin.
His Dustin would probably push his hand away, saying, “Dude, why are you being so cheesy?” but secretly blushing a little, because he loved to hide his embarrassment in this way.
His Dustin would probably give him a big hug and then say, “Let’s finish watching Star Wars together tonight, since I’m leaving anyway.”
His Dustin longed to study at Caltech, but he wouldn’t leave just like this while everyone was facing Vecna. His Dustin loved to laugh, but he wouldn’t show such an innocent and carefree smile after Eddie’s death. He would be angry, helpless, crying, needing Steve to tear down his defenses and hug him.
His Dustin was emotionally complex and contradictory—this purely gentle version was not him.
This beautiful, gentle illusion was fake.
Steve let the tears break through the armor he had maintained for over 18 months, soaking half his face and neck. Then he tightly pulled the “Dustin” into his arms, as if making a big decision.
"We will meet again, a real meeting."
After saying this, he looked at the slightly stunned shadow with longing one last time, then turned and walked away.
Kali turned to El: “Does this count as a success?”
El shook her head worriedly: “I don’t understand what he meant, but I feel bad.”
Dustin likes quiet moonlit nights. Such nights are perfect for curling up on the sofa for a movie night. Oh right, the windows should be open to let the moonlight in. Steve's living room is very transparent because it's right by the pool outside, which sometimes reflects shimmering light onto the glass. That’s why Dustin often appears at Steve's doorstep on nights without a D&D session, carrying pizza or some apple pies his mom made. He was like some mysterious elf that only appears at night.
But tonight, after twilight was swallowed by the dark, there was no moon in sight to illuminate the eerily silent cemetery. Tomorrow probably won’t be sunny.
On a night so disconnected from beauty, he shouldn’t be meeting up with guy who loves moonlight.
But Steve is visiting the cemetery for the first time tonight—to visit Dustin, or rather, the tombstone engraved with Dustin's name.
The name on the tombstone is the only thing familiar to him. What lies buried beneath it??? Steve chooses to completely erase that thought from his mind. He shines a flashlight on the name engraved in the stone.
“Henderson, look, I’m here. They made a monument for you.”
It’s just a tombstone with a name on it, nothing more.
No colorful, super childish T-shirts. No classic band merch or Star Wars caps. No messy piles of comic books on the bed covering a boy who fell asleep without even taking his shoes off. No D&D doll accidentally taken from Mike's basement and left on Steve’s bed. No Ghostbusters DVD left behind on Steve’s TV stand. No hoarded Farrah Fawcett hairspray on the desk. No rose snatched by Dustin and preserved as a specimen. No walkie-talkie broken three times.
No pair of nimble hands that can fix everything. No fluffy beautiful curls. No blue eyes so bright you can’t see the pupils when he smiles. No still sparse but cute pearl teeth. No murmured confessions of young feelings when he was leaning on Steve during movie nights. No half-joking kiss under the mistletoe where he tugged at Steve's collar and landed on Steve’s cheek. No teasing Holmes quotes in that gloomy old mansion.And no promise that they wouldn’t play heroes.
No—nothing. No pale skin. No cold damp cheeks. No unfocused eyes. No clothes wet with congealed blood. No blood making Steve’s hands sticky and trembling. No heavy broken Dustin Henderson completely losing life on his back.
No Steve waking from a nightmare crying out, barefoot, falling off the bed trying to find that person.
Nothing, only a tombstone.
Steve knelt on the grass. The cold wind was not as biting as that night at the trailer park, but it was enough to break a person.
Memories of that boy flashed before his eyes like a carousel. He had once thought that if Vecna took him away, these memories of Dustin would surely bring him back, but now the boy who always gave him strength had also been taken.
He collapsed in front of the proof of Dustin's death, crying and wailing, heartbroken.
“Henderson, you damn bastard.”
“Not you, you can't just walk away. Do you know that? You can't just leave me like this.”
“You die, I die.”
“Remember?”
“I will find you, or join you.”