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When Dustin returned from Camp Know Where, he hardly expected to get right into another adventure, and he certainly didn’t expect said adventure to involve breaking into a Russian basement with Steve, Steve’s co-worker, and Lucas’s 10 year old little sister. It didn’t exactly play out like Dustin’s ideal adventure either— they had to run from the Russians, then he had to leave Steve behind and then get back only to find him looking like he went a round against every single Russian in that godforsaken place. Dustin much preferred adventures that were centered around science and innovation, and not rescuing his best friend from a bunch of deranged commies who clearly had their fun with him. He still wasn’t certain what that ‘fun’ entailed.
Dustin shivers at the thought as he lies in his bed, unable to sleep after everything that transpired. His thoughts keep drifting to Steve, who was not in a state that Dustin (or Dustin’s very persistent mother) were willing to leave him alone to take care of himself. Which meant that Steve lay next to him in Dustin’s not big enough bed, most likely far more tormented by the events at Starcourt than Dustin.
He lies next to him with his back towards Dustin, eerily still like he's asleep. Except Dustin knows he's not— The rise and fall of his chest is too fast for someone sleeping soundly. He also lets out an occasional shaky sigh, then the room falls silent again, leaving Dustin alone with his thoughts.
Steve is hurt. Bruises bloom across his face in glaring shades of purple, and similar patches of colour litter the rest of his body as well. It's dark now, but Dustin got to witness the severity of his injuries when his mom cleaned Steve up in the many places his wounds started bleeding. It was by no means a pretty sight— He looked quite dreadful, actually. And not just because of the many ways his body was damaged… There was something frightened, almost animalistic in the way Steve's eyes darted around the room, visibly fighting the urge to lean away from Claudia and the wet wash cloth.
What did they do to you, buddy?
Dustin got off basically scot-free, something he deems unfair now that he lies next to his friend, alertly listening to any changes in his breathing. Dustin was safe and in one piece for the very reason Steve wasn't, which is that Steve decided to protect Dustin again, even if doing so meant he once again got out of danger with an awful concussion and mental trauma that Dustin was starting to suspect to be a lot more serious than he initially assumed.
There’s a spike of guilt that comes with that thought, but it’s not like it was an obvious thing at first— he was drugged for Christ's sake. Of course he didn’t act like someone heavily traumatised by the Russians' interrogation tactics when his mental capacity was purposefully hindered by his captors in hopes of fishing out more information from him.
Dustin, who has never been particularly strong or quick, and therefore only ever had his brain to rely on throughout his short 14 years of living can hardly imagine a worse situation than having his ability to think tempered with. The knowledge of something similar being done to Steve made Dustin’s stomach clench uncomfortably, and he cringed as he remembered his initial reaction. ‘Tough it out like a man.’ some best friend you are, Henderson.
He stares at Steve’s back, not feeling adequate enough to be in this situation at all. Steve deserves to be comforted after going through literal hell to keep Dustin safe, yet as they laid there with a strange kind of silence stretching between them, Dustin felt helpless against the task. How does one help someone whose injuries they’re to blame for?
Dustin places his palm against Steve’s back hesitantly, feeling like he couldn’t be gentle enough with all the bruises littering his entire body. Steve flinched away from the touch for a second, but he relaxes before Dustin could guiltily pull his hand away, melting into his palm with something akin to relief. Dustin pulls himself closer to Steve in response, laying his head next to Steve’s back with his forehead almost resting between his shoulder blades.
“Dust’n? Why are you awake?” Steve mumbles confusedly, trying to crane his neck to look behind him before giving up and slowly turning around in bed. The way he hissed as he did so made Dustin press his lips into a thin line in concern. Those Russians better hope they don’t have the misfortune of crossing paths with him.
“I just can’t sleep.” Dustin replies simply, and it’s the truth. He knows neither of them expect to get much sleep after the starcourt ordeal. Steve hums softly in lieu of a response, bringing up a hand to card through Dustin’s hair gently. It’s soft and gentle on his exhausted nerves and his lips curl up in a content smile. He always relished Steve’s easy affection.
He tries to make out Steve’s face in the dark, and even though his eyes look exhausted and swollen from the many hits he took they look at Dustin attentively, and the overwhelming sense of being seen hits Dustin like a truck. It felt like receiving an award he never worked for, and the shame makes a lump form in his throat because he doesn’t deserve to be looked at with such concern and affection, not when Steve took the brunt of everything that happened in the last few days. Especially not when it was Dustin’s fault.
It makes Dustin want to say something, anything to attempt to show that he also worries, that he also cares about Steve, but words seem to fail him. Which is a shame, considering how many things are there to be said and asked. Most out of all he wants to ask what really went down under Starcourt, because not knowing what happened to get his friend in this state filled Dustin with sickening unease. On the other hand, he didn’t want to force Steve to talk about something that seemingly affected him so deeply, which meant he had to settle for the second most burning matter— apologizing.
“Steve?” He starts, cringing at the uncertainty of his voice. The hands in his hair pause for a split second before resuming their work to show that Steve is listening. “You know, I know it was my idea to decode the russian message and go after them so I just want to say– I’m sorry for dragging you into this stupid mess. And I’m sorry for not rescuing you sooner and being so snappy at the mall I was just so overwhelmed and scared and– I guess I’m just sorry for being a shitty friend.” Dustin mumbles, fighting against the lump in his throat. And Steve just stares at him for a second, the undeserved concern now a lot more prominent in his expression, and Dustin wants to inch away from its burning force.
“No, bud, no– None of that was your fault, okay? It was a stupid idea to go down there but we came up with it together, I don’t hold anything against you.” Steve responds quickly, his fingers in Dustin’s hair slipping down to his face to stroke his cheek gently. “If anything, I’m glad you’re okay. God, I have no idea what I would’ve done if you also got hurt in this mess.”
“Well I’m not.” Dustin says in indignation, and for a moment he swears he can see Steve’s eyes flash with a mix of intense worry and pain.
“Dust–”
“You don’t get it.” Dustin says bitterly, curling in on himself slightly. “Look at how hurt you are! I always mess up and it’s never me who ends up paying for it. Last year with Dart, now with the Russians– It should be me receiving the consequences of those, not you.”
He sniffles, and a singular tear rolls down his cheek before Steve quickly wipes it away. Dustin doesn’t dare look at him anymore, but he doesn’t have to. Steve is tugging him closer, a loose arm circling around his shoulder to pull him against his chest. The other clasps one of Dustin’s hands in his, rubbing comforting patterns into the soft skin with his thumbs. Dustin wants to melt right there, to let go of all his worries and focus on the soothing closeness, but he forces his mind to remember to be careful with Steve and his injuries, and to not let go of his guilt so easily. He owes it to Steve to feel bad about this if he himself won’t take care of that.
“Shh no Dustin don’t say that– You don’t deserve to be hurt, you aren’t supposed to pay for anything, I swear. I’m not getting hurt in your place, I’m just here to protect you because I love you, please don’t blame yourself.” Steve whispers comfortingly, voice laced with a burning concern. Dustin feels a soft kiss being pressed on the crown of his head, and he tries to not feel like he doesn’t deserve it. It's not easy.
“I just wish I could’ve helped.” Dustin mumbles defeatedly. Steve’s grip tightened around him, pulling him closer so his head was tucked securely under Steve’s chin.
"You helped." Steve insisted. He took a shuddering breath before he spoke again, and Dustin could tell he was struggling to talk about what happened down in the base. He felt a surge of guilt at that, but a big part of him clung onto Steve’s following words, wanting to know every possible detail.
“When we were trapped there, they made me feel uh– pretty hopeless. I think they wanted me to think I'd die down there.” Dustin drew an arm around Steve, trying not to show how much just the thought of that unsettled him, because hell, Steve had to live through that.
"But I knew I wouldn't. I knew you'd come back for us sooner or later. And you did, bud, you saved us.” Stere's words are laced with affection and Dustin basks in the warmth of it, but his mind traitorously reminds him of the truth. Because Dustin didn't want to go back. He wanted to escape the base to get help from Hopper or Nancy or anyone,and it's only thanks to 10 year old Erica that Steve didn't get brutally mutilated or worse. Dustin wanted to throw up.
“Steve–” He tries to explain himself, but his words are interrupted by a sudden sob, and then another. Because it’s so hard to focus on apologizing and bettering himself when the weight of everything was just crashing down on his shoulders. Steve (“–And Robin too.” A voice whispers, accusing.) almost died because Dustin was a coward. The weight of that is not something he’s sure he can manage.
Steve tenses at the first sob that breaks out of Dustin, exhaling sharply before he quickly tightens his grip on the boy, cupping the back of Dustin’s head with one hand. He tries to focus on Steve’s grounding touch, tries to not get lost in his own misery. He needs to explain himself, even if Steve ends up thinking less of him for it. He will not let himself be seen as some kind of brave saviour, he owes Steve a lot of things and honesty is the minimum he can give him.
“I didn’t– It was not my idea Steve, I didn’t want to go back–” Dustin hiccups, speaking up the moment he’s able to get enough air into his lungs to do so. Steve hushes him gently, but Dustin pays him no mind, not right now. “I thought it– It’d be better to get out and ask for help and then– We only went back because of Erica, god– I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Steve–”
The confession feels heavy on his tongue, and his chest still hurts with the pressure of all the guilt he feels, but the relief is instant when Steve doesn’t pull away immediately. There’s a hand stroking Dustin’s back reassuringly and another one gently drawing patterns into his scalp with his thumb, and he’s so grateful life doesn’t seem to want to deprive him of Steve despite everything.
“Dust… You need to go easier on yourself, okay?” Steve murmurs into his curls dejectedly, and he waits for Dustin’s crying to soothe into quiet sniffles before he pulls away slightly so they can look at each other. Even with the dark of the night obstructing his view he can still see Steve’s eyes glint sadly. They shine brighter than usual, and Dustin’s not exactly comfortable with the knowledge that he brought Steve to tears.
“Why do you think I told you to get out of there?” Steve asks him, sounding slightly exasperated. Dustin feels his face heat up in embarrassment. “When I said I knew you’d come back for us I didn’t mean barging into a room full of russians with some bullshit electrifying spear–”
“That’s totally not what that thing was called.”
“...Of course you’d correct me even now. The point is— That’s not what I wanted. I know it turned out fine this time, but I don’t want you to endanger your life in crazy mental ways. You did good Dustin, I swear.” Steve said sternly, dropping his words into a gentle murmur at the end. “I’m proud of you.”
Dustin sniffles, and he can’t help but smile at the reassurance. Steve smiles back, and the hands still holding Dustin at an arm’s length finally draw him back into the embrace, and he’s more keen on accepting the comfort now, practically melting in Steve’s arms.
“I’m proud of you too.” Dustin mutters, and it feels silly but he needs Steve to know. “Standing up against a bunch of Russians is certainly badass.”
Steve giggles at that, and Dustin rejoices at the sound. He briefly marvels about the wonderful difference between Steve now, versus 10 minutes ago, laying so still Dustin thought he might stay like that forever.
“Is it, really?” Steve asks, teasing. “You know what, that might just earn me all the ladies you promised.”
“Well you did actually win a fight this time. I think this might be your time, Steve.” Dustin responds, smiling to himself, resisting the urge to crack up when Steve feigns a dramatic gasp.
“Aww c’mon! We were having a moment!” Steve whines, but his teeth glint in the dark, grinning widely as he playfully pushes Dustin away from him. The return of their usual banter made Dustin feel warm inside, a sense of contentment washing over the two of them. He pretends to fight Steve a bit longer, pushing against his hands defiantly until they were both unable to stifle their laughs.
After a few moments Steve admitted defeat, letting Dustin fall back into his arms while he was still sniggering giddily. The steady beat of Steve’s heart against his ear was peaceful, and the soothing pattern was finally allowing Dustin’s overworked mind to settle, giving into the exhaustion that weighed down on him. Next to him Steve also seemed to relax, his body curling around Dustin as he sank into the mattress. He nestled his face into Dustin’s hair, and he could feel Steve smile softly against his scalp. He wanted to stay there forever.
“I’m glad you’re here.” Steve mumbles sleepily, and it’s such a simple statement but Dustin gets it, shares the sentiment. They’re right by each other, and maybe that will be enough for, well– everything.
And just because he didn’t say it back earlier, Dustin responds warmly: “I love you too, Steve.”