Chapter Text
The first time you spoke to Billy Hargrove, you threatened to beat him to death.
Your brother had come from school scared and practically mid-panic attack. The new kid with the Camaro had all but almost run them over. He had a dent in his bike to prove it. Dustin made you swear you wouldn’t do anything but, the little bent piece of metal on his bike was taunting you. Who the fuck did this guy think he was?
You searched him out in the parking lot the next morning before school. As if aligning, the universe had him pull into the parking space next to yours. Throwing your door out, it came centimeters from slamming into his passenger side.
“Hey! Watch it!” He snapped from where he was smoking.
“Are you Hargrove?” You asked, despite knowing exactly who he was.
He raised a brow and took a deep inhale of his cigarette. “Who’s asking?”
“That’s Henderson,” Tommy said from the other side of the blue car. Of course, this asshole hung out with Billy. “Ace, don’t you have a book to crawl under?”
“Shove it up your ass Tommy,” you growled, mildly satisfied when Tommy quieted, and turned back to Hargrove. “Don’t ever, ever, think it’s okay to threaten my brother.”
Tommy grumbled but knew better. Billy’s eyes flashed, an interested expression. “Who’s your brother?”
“Dustin Henderson,” you said, crossing your arms. “He said you almost ran over him and his friends.”
“Oh yeah,” he said, laughing. Your eye twitched at the audacity. “I was teaching the little worm a lesson. Tell your brother to keep his hands off my sister.”
You smiled, your temper boiling. Reaching through your back window, you pulled out your wooden bat. “You know, I’ve always wondered what damage I could do with this.”
Hargrove narrowed his eyes. “Nice try, sweetheart. You wouldn’t dare.”
“Carol?” You called out. The girl in question chomped on her gum obnoxiously, watching the scene with wide eyes. No doubt ready to tell anyone who would listen about this.
“What?” She snapped her gum.
“What’s that you always call me?”
“A crazy bitch?” She snickered, Tommy laughing beside her.
“Right,” you said, smiling and turned to Hargrove. “They’ve been here their whole lives, so they know. You still have a learning curve. If you ever even think about putting a hand on my brother or any of his friends again, I’ll shove this through your windshield and then down your throat. Okay, sweetheart?”
Instead of intimidated, Hargrove shot you an interested look. “Sure, Henderson.”
“Glad we could understand each other,” you said, tossing your bat back into your car. You grabbed your bag and flipped him off before making your way over to Nancy.
The last time you spoke to Billy you were begging him to stay.
“Billy!” You screamed, running to his body. There was blood everywhere, you didn’t know where to put your hands.
“Oh my god,” you trembled, pushing your jacket into the larger wound on his stomach. “Stay with me Billy, stay awake! El, are you okay?” You asked, glancing behind you. She nodded, tears streaming down her face.
“I’m s-sorry,” he sputtered, blood seeping out his mouth.
“Billy, open your eyes,” you shouted, pushing down on his wound harder. His eyes caught yours, a sliver of clarity in them, and he smiled.
“It’s okay, p-princess,” he groaned, his chest inhaling one last time before going still.
“No!” You screamed, tears welling. A body slammed next to yours, red hair flying, her arms coming across Billy’s.
Max’s sob echoed in the silence. You looked up to see her cradled in El’s arms. You didn’t realize you were screaming too until a pair of arms came around you.
You thrashed, scared, until Steve’s voice pierced through your haze. “Hey, hey, it’s me – you’re okay.” You collapsed then, covered in blood, and turned into Steve’s chest. He cradled you, a hand on your head, murmuring softly. “I’ve got you, Ace, I’ve got you.”
Your mother hadn’t asked many questions when you told her you would be deferring college for a year. She’d stared at you, shocked, but accepted it easily enough. You knew she wanted to ask a million questions but you also knew she could tell that ‘fire’ at Starcourt had rattled you.
You had spent most of your summers since you were fourteen, working at the station with Hopper. It had started out as a favor to your family – yours and his had known each other for a long time. His presence in your childhood was constant and comforting. He’d let you ride with him to crime scenes, help him with filing, and snuck you milkshakes for lunch. You’d wanted to go into forensics because of him, but now you couldn’t pass the station without feeling like your chest was caving in.
“You should get a job,” Dustin said. You turned to him from your spot in the grass and he reached for your hand. “You can’t keep sitting here like this. You’re not…you’ll get worse.”
“Yeah, okay,” you mumbled.
“I got you an interview, I biked around town yesterday asking to see who was hiring,” he said, smiling now that you hadn’t refused.
At that, you perked up. “You did?”
“I think the arcade might be fun, want to try there first?”
“You’re coming with me?”
Dustin’s face softened and you hated that for the past two weeks it felt like he was the one taking care of you. It made you feel small and useless but, his hand came to your shoulder and with a knowing look, he nodded. “Yeah, of course.”
It’d taken exactly five minutes before the manager all but hired you on the spot.
“We’re so understaffed, we need all the help we can get,” he admitted.
“Great,” you grumbled, not being able to hide your smile at Dustin’s excitement for you.
“You just want to use me for free stuff,” you said while walking back to your car.
“Duh,” Dustin said, unabashed. “Plus, Steve’s next door. I can visit you both in one day!”
You glanced at where he was pointing and saw Robin sitting on the hood of a familiar BMW outside the store. She waved as you drove by and you waved back.
“Why is mom home so early?” You asked, parking your car behind your mother’s in the driveway.
Dustin shrugged and hopped out the car. “Can you take me to Mike’s house later? Mom said I could sleep over.”
“What am I? A taxi?” You grumbled.
“I just got you a job!” Dustin exclaimed, indignant, throwing open the front door.
“I didn’t ask you to!”
“Some people would be grateful.”
“Some people do nice things without expecting anything in return, butthead.”
“What are you two fighting about now?” Your mom sighed from the sofa.
“She said she won’t drive me to Mike’s!”
Your mother shot you a look and you slumped. You just wanted to hide in your room for a little longer. “I always drive him around!”
“Please,” your mother groaned. “I had a long day at work.”
You sighed. “Fine.”
“Thank you. I ordered pizza if you want any,” she said before nodding off.
“Did she just fall asleep?” Dustin asked.
“Ugh, go get your stuff, I’m taking you over now,” you told him.
“What! It’s still light out,” he protested.
You whipped around and shot him a look. Before you could lunge forward, he shrieked and scrambled down the hall to his room.
“Don’t do anything stupid,” you told him, you always did.
“If I need you, I’ll call you,” he promised. It was a testament to your emotional state that Dustin didn’t take the opportunity to tease you. “I promise. You have the walkie, right?” You nodded; paranoia made you carry one with you always.
“Hey Ace!” Mike and Lucas waved. You raised a hand and glanced around the room.
“Where’s Will?” You asked. After everything that had happened, everything you’d all gone through, you’d found yourself with a soft spot for him.
“Here,” he said, coming out from behind a counter. “I found the cups!”
His hair was tussled, standing up on the side and his shirt askew. You grinned, walking over to give him a tight hug. “You okay Byers?” Used to your affection by now, he flushed pink but hugged you back.
“I’m good,” he said.
“Ace!” Max exclaimed, running up the stairs and throwing herself into your arms. Barely avoiding the collision, Will scampered back into the basement.
“Hey,” you greeted. Your hand went up to her head and she squeezed you tightly. You’d been visiting her most mornings for the past month – both of you feeling like you were the only ones who were really at a loss without Billy.
Max understood, there wasn’t much to say and you knew that nothing but time would help either of you. You knew that but, it was still hard some days to remember that you wouldn’t be seeing Hopper around town. That Billy wouldn’t be around to tug at your hair or take you to a movie. They were never coming back.
A second pair of arms wrapped around you both. You looked down to see a familiar face. El flashed you a sad smile before burying her face into your hair. “Hey you.” You wrapped an arm around her and squished them both to you. El’s hair tickled your nose and you closed your eyes, basking in the comfort her familiar scent brought you.
“Hey,” a new voice pulled you out of your group hug. Jonathan was leaning against the doorframe, watching you knowingly. He smiled gently at you and you willed the tears back. You’d think that by now you would’ve been incapable of crying any more but they always tried to make an appearance. Max and El gave you one last squeeze before disappearing down the stairs.
“Hey,” you greeted back, not having seen Jonathan in a while. “Drop off duty?” You asked nodding towards the basement. He nodded, gesturing out the door.
“We’re going to rent a movie and back to my place, you want to come with?”
“As a third wheel?” You asked, snorting. “No thanks, I’ve been Nancy’s eternal third wheel at this point.”
“No, you haven’t,” Nancy said, bounding down the stairs. “Besides, we were going to stop by your house anyway. I haven’t seen you in weeks.”
Guiltily, you glanced down at your shoes. “I’ve been busy,” you said, scuffing your shoes on the carpet. You felt bad instantly for lying, this was Nancy. “I don’t – it’s hard,” you admitted.
Her hand came up to your arm and she tugged you into a tight hug. “I know it is but you’re disappearing and that scares me.”
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled. You hadn’t meant to but the guilt – the grief, it was overwhelming.
Nancy bumped your shoulder and smiled up at you. “Two months ago, you would’ve told me to screw off.”
You laughed and pressed your palms into your eyes. No one had ever questioned where Dustin got his affinity for cursing.
“I promise Jonathan and I can keep our hands to ourselves,” she said, widening her eyes with a pleading look that she knew you couldn’t resist, “at least come to dinner with us.”
“Alright, alright,” you pushed her away from you. She grinned, pumping a hand in the air so reminiscent of Mike that you had to smile.
“Dinner only and I get to pick,” you said, grunting when Jonathan and Nancy squished you between them. Jonathan reached out and placed a reassuring hand on your forearm and you hated yourself for needing it.
“Deal!”
You couldn’t sleep. You’d tried everything — staying up for days in the hopes that you’ll knock out later, pills, melatonin, tea, and in desperate times, you asked Jonathan to get you a joint.
It all ended the same. You’d close your eyes for an hour or two — four being your record — and wake already halfway through a panic attack. The nightmares never lingered, small mercies, but you didn’t need them to. You could remember everything for yourself.
“Dustin, grab a plate for your sister, will you?” You heard your mother say from the kitchen.
“Good morning,” you said around a yawn, sitting down in your unofficial assigned seat to the left of Dustin. He bumped his shoulder with yours and you smiled.
“Good morning sweetheart - oh goodness,” she said, her smile dropping. “Honey, you didn’t sleep again?”
You kept your eyes on the table and shrugged nonchalantly.
“I’m worried about you. It’s been almost more than a month since you last looked like yourself, since that fire at the mall. I know you were close to Chief Hopper-” the name cut you still, and by the look Dustin shot you, he knew, “-maybe we should see a doctor-”
“—and Billy.”
You froze, eggs dropping off your fork.
“What?” Your mother said, sitting down with her coffee in front of you both.
“Billy Hargrove, it wasn’t just Hopper,” Dustin said, looking up at you meaningfully.
“Well, I didn’t know you were friends with that boy. I thought he always did look a little troubled underneath all that attitude,” she sighed. “I’m sorry sweetheart, I know this must be hard for you.”
“I’m fine, Mom,” you lied, feeling Dustin’s eyes on you. “I’m getting better.”
She frowned but you changed the subject and hurried Dustin so you could drop him off at Will’s before your shift. You took a few steadying breaths, trying to push it all down, before climbing into the driver’s seat.
“I don’t want to talk about it, Dustin,” you said once you were in the car.
He slung his backpack into the backseat with a grunt. “I didn’t say anything,” he mumbled.
You forced a smile onto your face and reached out for his hand. He’d been steadily outgrowing showing you affection, so you knew it was bad that he let you. “I don’t want you to worry about me. Have your nightmares stopped?”
Dustin eyed you for a moment and you willed your expression not to change. “It’s not as bad anymore,” he said, truthfully.
“If you ever need me…”
“I know where to find you,” he said. You nodded, starting the car. “It’ll get better soon, you’re one of the strongest people I know. It’ll get easier.” He squeezed your fingers.
It had to get easier soon, it had to.
Dustin’s words floated to the top of your mind when you fell out of bed, tears streaming down your face, your body trembling and your breath coming out in gasps. It took you a few minutes to calm down, it always did, and you checked the time.
4:19AM
You laid down; the carpet rough against your back and sighed. You’d slept for two and half hours this time. Not the best, but certainly not your worst. It’d been the Mind Flayer this time, he’d taken Dustin and you’d been too late to stop him.
A warm breeze ruffled your hair from your open window, the humidity keeping your room a little too hot for your liking. With a grunt, you stood and closed it. A flash of headlights caught your eye and you watched your neighbor park his car in his driveway and make his way inside.
Mr. Dickinson, your mind supplied. He worked night shifts at the hospital – he always complained about the hours but said there was something peaceful about driving home when the streets were empty. You’d found it ironic, considering that the dark now only served as a reminder of the creatures that hid in it.
Your eyes caught on Dustin’s bike, tossed carelessly onto the front lawn. You glanced at your bed and sighed. You might as well.
It’d been a long time since you’d ridden a bike, having sold yours when you were fifteen to help buy your car. As the wind whipped through your hair, the trees and houses blurred as you pedaled faster, you found yourself missing it.
After a few minutes, you slowed, chest rising quickly as you tried to catch your breath. You wiggled your stiff hands and smiled at the weightlessness you felt. Before you could figure out where you’d stopped, you heard a branch snap and your stomach dropped.
Holy shit this is how you died. How could you have been so stupid? Your mom was going to have to identify your dead body and Dustin would never recover-
“Ace?” A gravelly voice called out.
You whipped around, ready to fight because goddamn you weren’t a mouth breathing punk, to see a confused looking Steve Harrington.
“Oh my God,” you mumbled, eyes widening.
“What?” He asked, looking behind him with concern.
“You absolute shithead!” You growled. “You scared the crap out of me!”
Steve blinked. “Me?” He asked, his brown eyes wide and hazy.
“Yes, you!” You looked around for a car or bike and when finding none you blinked away the fog your fear had conjured. “Wait, where the fuck did you come from?”
“Hawkins Hospital,” he said, snorting at his own joke. At the sight of your unimpressed expression, he straightened a little. “Jonathan’s house - we uh, some nights we can’t sleep so on Friday’s I go over or he comes over, and we…” he trailed off, blinking.
“Drink?” You guessed.
He snapped his fingers. “That’s it!”
You fought the hysterical laugh building and nodded. “I didn’t know that you and Jonathan were on such good terms.”
Steve shrugged. “Fighting monsters that bump in the night forges a bond,” he said, interlacing his own fingers. “You know?”
You did.
“Even with the Nancy stuff?” You asked, tentatively.
He nodded, his head bobbling rapidly. “I’m over her, totally completely over her. I feel nothing. I’m happy for them!” He cried out, arms out.
You shushed him, eyeing a house you could see in the distance. “And why are you walking down this road alone like the perfect victim for a serial killer?”
He pouted. “Jonathan said I was too drunk to drive so I walked!”
“He let you just walk out? Like this? Steve, you could’ve gotten hit by a car!”
“We fell asleep and I had a bad dream,” he frowned, looking confused again, “and I wanted to go home but Jonathan hid my keys. So, I snuck out his window.” Steve giggled and you bit your lip to keep from encouraging him with your own laughter. Jonathan’s house was a thirty-minute car ride from Steve’s. It’d probably take him forty-five minutes walking, if he didn’t get lost.
“Alright weirdo, hop on,” you motioned to the back spokes of Dustin’s bike. “I can bike you to my house and you can sleep it off on the couch until morning.”
“It is the morning,” Steve said, pointing to the lightning sky. The midnight blue that haunted your dreams was starting to give way to a lighter shade. “Steve, get your ass on the bike.” Not waiting for a second time, Steve climbed onto the bike and fumbled when you grabbed his hands.
You wrapped them tightly around your shoulders. “Hold on, okay?” You told him.
Steve grinned, his stupid hair flopping into his eyes. You rolled your eyes and fought the urge to smack him.
You’d barely made it five feet before Steve tilted too far left and tumbled off. He landed with a groan and you winced. “You were going too fast,” he moaned, pressing his cheek onto the asphalt.
A flash of your familiar temper had you narrowing your eyes. “Me? You tilted to the side! I know you’re the King and all but I can’t balance us both. You have to help me out.”
“M’not the King anymore, stupid Hargrove took it from me,” Steve grunted, sitting up with his hair pointing in every direction. “I can’t even be mad at him for it.”
You heart thumped at the mention of him. Glancing around, you realized you were by the lake near Barb’s old house. “Alright Harrington, we’re not going to get far with you trying to kill us both on my bike. Come on, we’ll sit it out.”
“I’m fine,” he insisted, “I’m almost home.”
Rolling your eyes, you shoved him in the direction of the lake and smiled when he listened despite his grumbling. You kept a suspicious eye on Steve’s stumbling figure and guided him for a few minutes towards the familiar spots you’d been to before.
You fought against your instincts, the ones that told you that only bad things hid in the trees in the dark, and managed to find a familiar patch of dry grass to sit by. Steve leaned the bike against a boulder and flopped down beside you.
Watching the water, you lost yourself in the sounds of the world waking up. “What are you doing out here?”
You turned to Steve, who was lying on his back with his feet crossed onto a rock by the edge. “I can’t sleep either,” you admitted, feeling a little ashamed as you did. You cleared your throat and pushed your hair away from your face.
“There’s nothing wrong with that, you know?” Steve hummed, his head bopping along to a tune only he could hear.
“With what?”
He didn’t answer you immediately, he looked deep in thought as he watched the stars fade. “Admitting that you’re not okay,” he whispered. You glanced at him to find him watching you already. “None of us came out of this okay.”
“I know,” you said eventually.
Steve smiled, like he knew too, the butthead. “You’re Ace – the girl who hammered nails through Nancy’s bat because you didn’t believe in the upside down but there was no way in hell anyone was going to hurt her little brother. The girl who’s so smart she earned the nickname Ace in elementary school and got a full ride to college. The girl who heard about a new kid in town almost running over her brother and threatened to shove a bat down his throat. The one who doesn’t just look but sees, you know? It’s okay to need help. We all do.”
“Is that how you see me?” You asked, mouth dry, avoiding the topic.
“That’s how everyone sees you,” he said, silly smile on his face, as if the answer was obvious. “I’m pretty sure Jonathan liked you when we were in middle school. Mike definitely had a crush on you before El came around.”
“What?” You balked.
Steve giggled drunkenly; his skin flushed. “Don’t tell him I told you that.”
“Oh my God, Steve.” You shook your head and tried not to dwell on whatever came out his mouth right now.
“Remember when you punched me?” He asked.
You quirked a brow. “Which time?” Nancy was your best friend; you’d spent a lot of time in the presence of ‘King’ Steve and his disciples. You’d had very little tolerance for his bullshit back then. You weren’t exactly what you’d call friends now – but Steve was right, there’s something about facing death and trauma that created an…understanding.
You didn’t know his favorite food or his favorite movie but you knew he’d put himself between you and danger without thinking twice. You knew he’d given himself up to Russians just so your brother could escape to safety. You knew he was a good person, someone worth knowing, without a doubt. With a glance back at him, you realize you’d started liking him better once Nancy had broken up with him.
“Right before Jonathan kicked my ass,” he said, laughing without a care. “You found me and Tommy in the alley after seeing the spray paint he did. I told you that I hadn’t done it and you didn’t even care. You knew that I let it happen. You punched me right in the gut and I thought you’d broken one of my ribs.”
You remembered. You’d been picking up burgers for dinner with Dustin and the red paint had caught your eye. His, easily recognizable, BMW was parked in the alley and you’d followed the trail, barking at Dustin to stay in the car.
“I’d never seen you look so disgusted with me. I knew you didn’t like me, you tolerated me. I’d get so annoyed – I knew how much Nancy loved you and I wanted you to like me too.”
“You were a dick,” you said plainly. “I don’t like bullies and while you were never as big as an ass as other’s, you were still mean.”
His shoulder scrunched around his ears and you felt a little bad for rubbing it in. Bumping your foot with his, you shot him an apologetic look. “I like you now.”
Steve waved you off. “It’s fine, I was,” he sighed. “You throw a good punch though, a really good punch.”
You didn’t know if it was Steve’s rambling, his inability to be completely quiet, or his comforting nature, that you spoke up.
“My dad…he said just because I was a girl didn’t mean I shouldn’t know how to fight. My mom hates it but, I got his temper. You know Dustin – people can be so mean to him and he’s a good kid.”
Steve snorted and you glared at him. “What?” He held up his hands and laughed some more.
“It’s not just Dustin, you’ve always been ready to throw punches first and talk second,” he said. “Remember when that kid in third grade made fun of me because neither of my parents came to school for career day?”
“I kicked him off the jungle gym,” you said, remembering faintly. Frank Winters had split open his eyebrow and there was blood everywhere. They’d called your mother and you’d gotten in so much trouble. The principal had tried to get you to apologize or risk a suspension but you had refused. When your mother stormed you out, Dustin clinging to her legs, Steve was waiting for you. He had smiled shyly at you and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek. A flirt from birth it seemed.
“Yeah,” he said, his voice quiet, “we weren’t even friends. You just couldn’t stand a bully.”
You shrugged. “My mom always said I’d grow out of it.”
“I hope not,” he said quietly, his voice soft and low. “It’s one of my favorite things about you.”
Surprised, you turned to look at him and realized he’d fallen asleep. You watched his chest rise and fall, a bird chirping nearby.
You had a brutally early shift that morning and despite being exhausted from biking you both home, you hadn’t been able to sleep before needing to leave. Steve, however, didn’t have any problems. You dropped a trash can next to his head by the sofa, leaving a glass of water and some Tylenol on the coffee table.
Having no other choice, you threw Dustin’s door open and fought a laugh when he squeaked, almost rolling of his bed.
“Dude, it’s eight in the morning,” Dustin groaned, pulling his pillow over his head. “What have I done to deserve this? What?”
“Alright, don’t be dramatic. Your best friend is on the couch and is probably going to wake up with a hangover from hell. You gotta cover for him before mom wakes up and finds him in a few hours,” you said. “I think he has a shift later, so make sure he’s still alive.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Dustin waved a hand and you pinched his exposed calf. He squeaked again and shot you a glare.
“Dustin, I’m serious. Make sure he doesn’t choke on his puke,” you said, pointing at him.
Guilty, he shifted and rubbed his eyes. “Okay, I will.”
“See you at dinner,” you said, walking down the hall and out the house.
You spend most of you shift a little overwhelmed, bored, and sleepy. Two weeks into your new job, you weren’t the rookie anymore but you were still one of the newest hires. The boy hired after you showed much more interest in anything Mason said and you were happy to take the backseat there. You were the one they brought out when anyone needed a touch of tough love.
You’d just finished yelling at two kids who’d spilled soda over a machine when you heard someone call out for you.
“Ace?” You whirled towards the voice, squinting through the dark lighting of the arcade. When you found the familiar face, you grinned.
“Look at what the cat dragged in,” you said, leaning the mop on the wall.
Steve winced as you walked over, a nearby kid screaming with glee as tickets sprouted out their machine. “Is it always so loud in here?” He asked.
“In the arcade?” You raised your brow. “Yeah, Steve, it’s usually this loud in here.”
He slipped the glasses around his collar onto his face and nodded. “Right, of course,” he rubbed one of his temples. “Listen, Jonathan almost killed me this morning when he found out I’d left. Thank you for…”
“Biking your drunk ass home?” You said, grinning.
“Yes,” he said, smiling a little, “and for the breakfast this morning. The pie you left was amazing.”
You shrugged off his compliment. “I stress bake,” you tell him, “Dustin and my mom usually are the only ones who get to taste them. The pie was an old recipe.”
“Well, you’re good, really good,” he said, sincere. You tried to bite back a smile but ducked your head when you knew by his pleased smile that you weren’t hiding it well. “Um, so, I brought you some lunch. As a thank you.”
Steve handed you a small Styrofoam container, smelling like tacos from your favorite Mexican restaurant. You blinked, surprised at the gesture.
“Dustin told me that was your favorite place – it was my turn to run out for lunch at the store. Robin says you have good taste by the way,” he rambled. You knew he’d keep going until you stopped him.
“Steve,” you swallowed, a little touched he’d gone out his way to find out. “Thank you.”
He flushed pink, chewing his bottom lip and looking a little out of place. Who was this Steve and where did the over confident jock go? “Yeah, no problem. I mean, thank you.”
“I wasn’t going to leave you alone out there,” you said, “I’d do it for anyone.”
“Right,” he said, stilling. Shit, was that the wrong thing to say? “Well, gotta head back. See ya.”
Your hand itched out to grab him but he’d turned and tucked tail quickly. Why did you feel like an asshole for clearly saying the wrong thing? Even if you didn’t know what it was. “Wait, Steve,” you called out. He turned to glance at you over his shoulder, one hand on the door. You thought of last night, how you’d told yourself that you weren’t really friends – you didn’t really know each other. But…you looked down at the container in your hands. He’d asked, he could’ve just come over to say thanks. Shit, he could’ve called. But he didn’t.
“What’s your favorite movie?” You asked.
He pushed his sunglasses up to the top of his head and shot you a weird look. You shifted your weight and shot him a look back. You were trying, come on.
“I don’t have an ultimate favorite, not anymore,” he said, nodding to the video store outside. “Right now? Die Hard probably.”
You grabbed onto that piece of information and tucked it away for later. You smiled and felt relieved when he smiled back. “See ya,” you said, waving.
With one last look, he disappeared out the door.
“Was that Steve Harrington?” Your coworker asked, eyes wide.
You nodded, a little bewildered yourself. You both watched him hurry back towards Family Video.
“What did he want?” Caroline asked. You looked over at her, she raked her gaze up and down his retreating figure appreciatively and you couldn’t help but huff a laugh.
“Bringing me food,” you said, wiggling the food in your hand. “We’re…friends?”
Caroline laughed good-naturedly. “Of course, you are,” she said, elbowing you. “Friends always have that type of awkward sexual tension.”
She ran into the backroom before you could slug her.
It was a one-time thing, you told yourself, Steve didn’t owe you anything. As far as you knew, he didn’t even want to be friends. A notion quickly dispelled the next day.
He brought you lunch all week. Caroline almost choked by laughing so hard.
The lack of sleep wasn’t the problem most days. It was sitting in your bed waiting to see if it would come. The anticipation. The buildup. You hated it.
You glanced at your clock. 3:30AM.
Sighing, you threw your blankets off you and grabbed a change of clothes. Hesitating at the front door, you eyed your car keys before grabbing Dustin’s bike again. You bike the same route as you did last week. You pedal fast, the wind whipping your hair out of your eyes, and you feel the storm inside you calm. The remnants of walking nightmares fade and your anxiety recedes for the moment.
Breathing heavily, you make it to the top of the hill and let yourself enjoy the ride down. Your grip on the handlebars is tight, tight enough to leave marks, but you don’t care. Nothing really matters. The song blasting through your Walkman urges you forward.
Once again, after half an hour, you find yourself sweaty, relieved, and a little tired by the lake. You paused at the side of the road and took a moment to catch your breath. A loud, sudden honk startled you. Two beams of light blinded you and you brought up a hand to try and block out the source.
“You’re going to get yourself killed riding a bike with music,” Steve said, head popping out his window.
“Do you get off on scaring the shit out of me?” You asked, placing a hand to your heart and ignoring the fact that he was technically right.
“I’ve been calling your name for like five minutes, I saw you riding down the hill,” he said.
“Oh. What are you even doing out here?”
Steve jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Coming from Jonathan’s.”
“Sleeping off the hangover this time?”
He rolled his eyes. “No hangover. I knew when to stop this time. I have an early shift and Robin will kill me if I’m late again.”
“Does it help?” You couldn’t help but ask.
“What?”
You bit your lip and hesitated. “The alcohol, does it help you sleep?”
Steve smiled sadly. “Sometimes. It helps not have as many nightmares,” he frowned suddenly. “That does not mean you should do it. I shouldn’t be doing it this often.”
“I won’t,” you promised.
“Good. Uh, what are you doing?”
“Couldn’t sleep. I was a little more antsy than normal,” you shrugged, “sometimes it feels like I’ll crawl out my skin. It’s like pressure just builds and builds and builds until I feel like I’ll explode.”
Steve nodded, as if he could relate. He probably could. They all could. And how horrible it was that you all had that in common.
“Did you want to sit by the lake for a bit? I could give you a ride home,” Steve asked, putting his car in park before you could even think it through. He rounded to the back of his car, popping open the trunk.
“What’re you looking for?” You asked, putting Dustin’s bike into his back seat carefully. You knew it was moot to try and argue against him.
“I put an old blanket in here a few days ago,” he said, voice muffled by the trunk. He let out a triumphant noise when he found it. “Here we go. That way we won’t get wet like last time.”
You took the blanket from his arms as he locked the car. “You packed it?” At your question, Steve froze for a moment before continuing forward. His pink ears gave him away.
“Um, yes,” he cleared his throat. “On the chance that I ran into you again.”
Oddly touched, you squeezed the blanket to your torso and scrambled for something to say. “Thanks,” you settled on, “that’s…sweet.”
He hummed in response and you didn’t know what to do other than follow him down the same path you’d taken last time.
Within minutes of setting up the blanket and lying down on it, the silence was painfully poignant. You didn’t know what to do with a sober Steve. Drunk Steve babbled enough to fill the silence for the both of you. You’d hung out with him sober before, of course you had. You’d seen him at the mall all the time but you’d always had a buffer. Robin, Nancy, Dustin…the two of you were never really alone. There was a certain intimacy at this hour, at this place, one that that you couldn’t help but feel awkward in.
“Are you sure you want to sit around? I thought you had an early morning shift.” You glanced at your watch. 4:01AM.
“Well, I drove home from Jonathan’s last week and saw you pedaling home in the morning,” he admitted, and you turned to him in surprise, “I thought you were out biking by yourself like last time. It’s still dark out at sunrise, it could be dangerous.”
You snorted, trying to break the weird tension that had settled at his admission. “If it is, I’m the better fighter between us.”
Steve grabbed his chest, stumbling like you’d landed a blow. “Ouch, Henderson.”
At the sight of his teasing expression and exaggerated hurt, you threw your head back and laughed.
“I hadn’t heard that in a while,” he said, looking at you in a way you couldn’t decipher.
“What? A hit to your ego?” You joked.
Steve shot you a weak glare before rolling his eyes. “Your laugh.”
You blinked at him, caught off guard. Opening your mouth to say something, anything, he beat you to it.
“Do you remember punching me in the parking lot?”
“Are you going to ask that every time we sit here?” You asked.
He smiled. “Humor me.”
“I’ve punched you a lot,” you said, thoughtful, “I should really try to tone that down.”
“You were coming out of some student government meeting. You saw me drop Jonathan’s camera.” His voice was tinged with guilt, his nose scrunched. “You stomped over to me, screaming at me. Tommy tried to push you and you kneed him in the balls. You turned to Carol and told her you’d pluck her eyelashes off one by one if she tried anything.”
You laughed, remembering her expression. Jonathan’s face had broken your heart and you couldn’t help but be furious with Steve. You’d expected more from him – you knew that his exaggerated persona was obnoxious and mean sometimes but you’d never seen him be cruel.
“I’ll never forget Nancy’s face in the car ride home,” he said.
“What do you mean?” You asked.
“She reached for your arm and you jumped out her reach.” Steve shook his head. “You don’t know how much people think of you, I don’t think you’ve ever noticed.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said, genuinely confused. You knew you had a reputation for throwing punches first and talking second but your mom always let it slide since you were all but a straight A student. You’d gotten a quick reputation for being hot tempered but you had friends from all types at school.
“You showed up, looking so mad,” he chuckled, “after you punched me in the shoulder – which hurt like hell by the way, I had a bruise for a week – you turned to Nancy and said: ‘I can’t believe you just stood there and let it happen.’ I was so mad that you’d taken his side without even asking what’d happened.”
Nodding, you remembered now. “You said: ‘He’s a pervert! He was taking pictures of us from the bushes.’” You mimicked his voice.
Steve frowned. “I do not sound like that.”
“I turned to Jonathan and smacked the back of his head and shouted-”
“What the hell is wrong with you? What the hell is wrong with all of you?” Steve said, the smile on his face fond. “I think that was the first moment I realized.”
“Realized what?”
He flushed suddenly, his ears bright red. “Uh, that I was upset you were mad at me.”
“I’m always mad at something, I never thought you cared – at least not back then,” you said.
“That’s the point,” he mumbled, “I realized that if I was upset about it, it meant I cared what you thought. You expected more from me – not King Steve or for me to act a certain way or whatever. You expected me to be better than what I was and I was upset for not meeting that.”
You let his words sink in and watched him fidget under your stare. He plucked nervously at the grass around you and rambled on to fill the silence. “I’m pretty sure that’s what Nancy felt too. Like we were falling short or something – like we’d disappointed you.”
“You did,” you said honestly, “I don’t… I know my actions might not reflect it but, I always like giving people the benefit of the doubt.”
“Well, you’re a rare one then,” Steve joked.
“I was just upset. I knew what Jonathan did wasn’t okay – in any way but two wrongs don’t make a right,” you said. “To be fair, you aren’t the same guy who dated Nancy back then. I didn’t hate him but, I like this Steve a lot more.”
Steve’s mouth curved upwards and you followed it’s turn. “I think that’s what Billy saw in you.” His hair fell into his eyes and he brushed it back with a quick swipe of his palm.
“What?”
“I don’t know what you two were-”
“-we were friends,” you said quickly, hugging a knee to your chest.
“Whatever you were,” he said, visibly biting back a smile at your glare, “I could tell he was making an effort. Don’t get me wrong he was still an insufferable douchebag.”
“Steve!” You huffed a laugh, surprised.
He looked up to the sky and pointed at it. “If you were lucky enough to break in up there, I meant what I said, you know you were a shithead.”
At that, you couldn’t help but let out a full-on laugh. Steve grinned, shrugging and holding out his hand. “You can’t tell me I’m wrong.” You could practically hear what Billy would say. He’d roll his eyes, flip Steve off, and probably have a similar biting comment.
For the first time since that day in July, the memory of Billy didn’t pull you under a dark cloud. “I’m aware of how – rude, Billy came off,” you said, “I was never blind to that. He was a bully and I hated bullies. He was just the first person to push back.”
“Either way, that’s what caught his eye,” Steve said, “it’s what caught mine. It’s kind of nice having someone who can really see you. Underneath all that bullshit and the masks that we wear. You expect more from them, in the best way.”
He smiled, unabashed, at your stunned reaction and leaned forward onto his knees. Before you could stop yourself, you watched your hand reach out and grab his. He was warm, his hand bigger than yours but not enough that it felt off balanced. His fingers curled almost instinctively around your knuckles. Steve froze, his eyes darting down to your intertwined fingers. After a moment, he squeezed your hand softly. It anchored you to the moment. You caught his eyes again and saw your own mess of emotions reflected back at you.
“Do you think,” your mouth felt dry, “that we’ll be okay? Eventually? After everything that’s happened?”
“You guys? For sure,” his assurance felt like warm sunbeam, “Me? I don’t know. I’ve always lagged a bit behind everyone.”
Squeezing his hand, you frowned at him. “Hey, I believe in you.”
“That would make you the only one,” he chuckled cynically. “I don’t know what to do about school, I’m barely sleeping most nights, and my parents waste no opportunity to tell me that I’m failing them.”
“You’re trying your best, we all are,” you said, tugging at his hand until he looked back at you. “It’s the only thing we can do now, try our best.”
“Are you scared?” He asked.
“I am,” you admitted, a little ashamed about it.
“Me too.”