Summary: You need a boyfriend for Christmas. So, your best friend Steve Harrington agrees to fake it with you only to help get your parents off your back after a string of failed relationships.
The rules are simple: no sharing a bed, no kissing , and no catching feelings.
Until they’re not.
CW: Smut. Lots of it lol. MDNI. Some mentions of family problems. Drinking.
a steve harrington x reader fanfic | friends to lovers
words: 12k
warnings: s5 spoilers. angst. unrequited feelings. steve has commitment issues (for once in my fic). if u squint a fix-it fic. 18+ MDNI DRY HUMPING (i couldnt helpt it they were desperate) near death experience
request: steve harrington x fem reader fic please and with angst!! i dunno the plot yet but involving fem reader liking steve, but he's not interested yet (maybe he thinks he still likes nancy or something) , then mutual pining plus jealousy that can involve a near-death experience for reader then steve realises he can't lose her or something like that. thank youu 🌷
a/n: inspo from the song desperado by the eagles. also kind of went on my own for the request... i hope you still enjoy
You think Steve knows.
That your bashful eyes, lingering looks, soft touches all have an underlying meaning. That you, like him. Worst of all, you like him and you’re pretty certain he doesn’t like you.
You’re unsure when these feelings even became a thing. Steve has always been a friend. A really good friend. This wasn’t a new thing to you that he’s handsome. Maybe too pretty for his own good. It wasn’t news to know how loyal he is. How brave. How kind.
It snuck up on you but maybe it was inevitable. You two were close, closer than most just friends should be. Or maybe since it was the end of the world— touched starved and hungry— you were clinging onto the attention you’ve gotten from the boy.
Today in particular, you were at WSQK, sitting on the couch after a recent broadcast. Steve had quickly joined you, exhausted from the crawl the night before. He quickly took his place next to you and laid his head on your lap, not even a minute and soft snores left his mouth. Your hands absently raking through his chestnut locks, overgrown and curly.
Steve sleeps like he trusts you with his life.
That’s the first thing you think, watching the rise and fall of his chest beneath your palm. His weight is warm and solid in your lap, grounding in a way that makes your breath slow to match his. One of his arms is slung loosely across his stomach, the other fallen boneless at his side, fingers brushing your thigh every time he shifts. You wonder if he knows he does that. If he’d pull away if he were awake.
Probably not. Steve has never been careful with you.
The studio lights are dimmed low now, the air humming softly with leftover static and the faint whir of old equipment cooling down. The world keeps moving. Monsters still exist. But right here—Steve’s head heavy in your lap, his hair threaded through your fingers—it feels paused. Like a held breath.
His hair is softer than it has any right to be. Sun-lightened at the ends, darker at the roots, curling just enough that your fingers catch slightly when you comb through it. You’ve done this before. More times than you’re willing to admit. Always absentminded. Always under the guise of comfort. You tell yourself it’s normal. You’re friends. This is what friends do when the world is ending and everyone’s tired and touch-starved and too young to be this afraid all the time.
But your thumb drags unconsciously over his temple, slow and reverent, and your chest tightens in a way that feels like truth.
Steve looks younger when he sleeps. The lines of worry that have started to etch themselves into his face soften, his mouth falling open just slightly, lashes dark against his cheeks. You wonder what he’s dreaming about. If it’s monsters or babysitting disasters or maybe—selfishly—you. You doubt it’s you. Steve Harrington doesn’t dream about girls like you. He dates girls who look like they belong on magazine covers, girls with perfect hair and sharp smiles and expectations he can never quite live up to.
Your fingers still.
You don’t mean to think about Nancy, but she’s always there, hovering like a ghost between you and him. Not because you’re jealous—not really—but because she was proof of something. Proof that Steve can love deeply and still be left behind. Proof that he gives too much of himself away and then pretends it didn’t hurt when it’s taken.
You think maybe that’s why he lets you do this.
Why he lets you linger too close, laugh too hard at his jokes, remember every little thing about him. Why he never pulls away when you tuck yourself into his side during movie nights or fall asleep shoulder-to-shoulder in the back of the car. Why he looks at you sometimes like he’s about to say something and then doesn’t.
It’s safe with you.
You don’t ask him for anything.
Your hand resumes its slow movement, fingertips tracing the curve of his ear, the strong line of his jaw. You know his face better than you know your own. Every freckle. The faint scar near his eyebrow. The way his nose wrinkles when he’s annoyed, or how his smile turns crooked when he’s trying not to show how much he cares.
God, you like him. So much it feels embarrassing. Like a secret written all over your skin.
You wonder if he can feel it—your heart racing beneath him, the way your legs have gone numb but you refuse to move because this feels too precious to disrupt. You wonder if he notices how you always end up near him, how your body seems magnetized to his. If he knows that every joke you make is just an excuse to hear him laugh, that every look you steal is an attempt to memorize him in case one day he’s gone.
Your throat tightens at the thought.
Steve shifts, murmuring something unintelligible, and his hand curls reflexively, gripping your thigh just enough to send a spark straight through you. Your breath stutters. He settles again, closer this time, cheek pressed more firmly into your stomach, like he’s chasing warmth even in sleep.
You don’t move.
You don’t dare.
Instead, you rest your palm flat over his chest, right above his heart. It beats steady and strong beneath your hand, and for a moment, you let yourself imagine what it would be like if he chose you. If he looked at you and decided you were worth the risk. Worth the fear.
But Steve Harrington doesn’t do risks anymore. Not like that.
So you sit there, holding him while he sleeps, pouring all the things you’ll never say into the quiet space between heartbeats. Loving him softly. Loving him safely. Loving him in a way that asks for nothing—because wanting more would mean losing this.
And this, right now, feels like everything.
Steve wakes up slowly, like he’s swimming toward the surface of something warm.
His lashes flutter, vision blurry and half-lidded, the world coming back in pieces—the low hum of the station, the smell of dust and old electronics, the steady, grounding warmth beneath his cheek. For one hazy second, he doesn’t move. Doesn’t want to. His body feels heavy in that good, boneless way that only comes after real exhaustion, the kind that settles into your bones and makes thinking feel optional.
Then awareness creeps in.
Oh.
He’s in your lap.
His brows knit faintly, more confused than alarmed, and he shifts just enough to register the soft give of your thighs beneath his head, the way your hand stills in his hair like you’ve been caught doing something you weren’t sure you were allowed to do. He swallows, throat dry, and finally lifts his head, pushing himself upright with a groggy huff.
“Mm—sorry,” he mumbles, voice rough with sleep, one hand scrubbing down his face. “Didn’t realize I was that tired.”
You flush immediately. He sees it even through the haze—the heat creeping up your neck, the way your eyes dart anywhere but his face.
“It’s okay,” you say quickly, too quickly. And then, softer, fond in a way that makes something in his chest tighten despite himself, “Stevie.”
The nickname hits him like a soft punch.
Steve freezes for half a second—long enough that he hopes you don’t notice—before sitting up properly, spine straight, jaw flexing as he swallows hard. It’s stupid. It’s just a name. He’s heard it a thousand times from you, always gentle, always affectionate, like it belongs to you more than anyone else.
Still.
There’s that feeling again. The one he’s been pretending not to name.
He’s not an idiot. He knows. Or at least… he’s pretty sure he does. The way you look at him when you think he’s not paying attention. How you always find reasons to be near him, to touch him—never in ways that cross a line, never enough that he could call it out without sounding cruel or full of himself.
It’s endearing. That’s the word that always comes to mind.
Cute, even.
He’s thought about it more than once, turning the idea over like a coin in his pocket. You liking him. You—sweet, smart, impossibly kind—looking at him like he’s something worth wanting. And it’s not that you aren’t pretty. You are. He notices. He’s not blind. There’s a softness to you, an ease, the kind that makes being around you feel like exhaling after holding his breath too long.
You might even be his type, if he really broke it down.
But that’s the thing. He doesn’t break it down.
Because when he pictures you, it’s never in the way people picture someone they’re going to fall for. You exist in a different space in his life—steady, familiar, safe. A constant. And Steve Harrington has learned, the hard way, that the moment you start wanting more from the things that keep you standing, you risk losing them entirely.
So he lets it stay unspoken.
He lets you flirt, lets himself flirt back sometimes, lets himself sink into your lap when he’s exhausted beyond thinking. He tells himself it’s fine because you never push. Never ask. Never make a move that would force him to say something out loud.
You’re smart enough to know, he thinks, that nothing more is going to come from it.
And honestly? He’s grateful for that.
Dating feels like a different lifetime. A version of himself that existed before the world cracked open and showed him how fragile everything really is. For the first time since he was seventeen, he hasn’t gone out with anyone. Hasn’t chased the distraction. Hasn’t even wanted to. It’s been nearly year of no sex. Shit, he doesn’t remember the last time he’s jerked off.
Robin had joked about it once—about pressing pause on everything, letting himself exist without trying to prove something. He’d taken her advice without really meaning to. And it turns out, he doesn’t hate it.
The want is still there, buried somewhere deep. The idea of a future, of something stable and good. But right now it all feels… flimsy. Temporary. Like building a house on fault lines. Any day, he could be gone. He’s seen what death does to the people left behind. Felt it tear through him and leave something hollowed out in its place.
And then there’s Nancy.
The memory still stings in quiet, unexpected ways. All those promises that felt real until they weren’t. All that love that turned out to be something he was holding alone. He can’t shake the fear that history would just repeat itself—that he’d believe again, hope again, and end up right back in that familiar ache.
And you—God—you don’t deserve that.
He remembers overhearing you talk to Robin once, your voice drifting down the hall, full of possibility. Talking about New York. About leaving. About what comes after all of this. And it hit him then, sharp and sudden, that you’re meant for more than Hawkins. More than staying behind to guard the ruins.
Steve isn’t even sure he wants to leave. As messed up as this town is, it’s home. Someone has to stay. Someone has to care.
He doesn’t want to be the reason you don’t go.
He doesn’t want to be an end-of-the-world mistake or fling. A chapter you look back on and regret when life finally opens up the way it’s supposed to. You’re precious to him. More than he ever says. A friend he can’t afford to lose.
So he hopes—quietly, selfishly—that whatever you’re feeling will fade. That one day you’ll look at him and see him the way he insists on seeing you. Safely, platonically, unchanged.
That you can stay close like this.
Uncomplicated.
Even as his heart does something traitorous in his chest every time you say his name like it means something more.
He tells himself it’s nothing, but his body doesn’t listen.
It never does, not when you’re this close. Not when he’s aware of you in that low, constant way—like background music he only notices when it stops. He becomes painfully conscious of the empty space where his head had been, of the faint warmth still lingering on his skin as if your touch has memory. His shoulders feel too bare without your hands there, like something essential has been removed without warning.
He doesn’t look at you right away. He pretends to stretch, to work the stiffness out of his neck, but it’s just a delay tactic. When he finally does glance your way, he feels that now-familiar pull in his chest, the one he refuses to inspect too closely.
You look soft. Not weak—never that—but gentle. Like the quiet after a storm, or the moment before sleep takes him despite his best efforts to stay awake. Your attention lingers on him, open and unguarded, as if you don’t know how much of yourself you give away just by existing near him.
He notices everything. He always has.
The way you sit angled toward him without realizing it. The way your hands fidget when you’re nervous, how your thumb rubs against your fingers like you’re grounding yourself. He knows the shape of your smile before you make it, knows when you’re about to laugh, when you’re about to retreat into yourself. He knows what you smell like—soap and something indefinably you—and how that scent clings faintly to him now, tucked into the collar of his shirt.
It means nothing, he insists.
Friends notice things.
Friends feel comfortable. Friends lean on each other when the world is falling apart.
Still, his eyes drift back to you again, drawn by some gravity he refuses to name. He watches the way your chest rises with each breath, how calm you look compared to how loud his own thoughts have become. He wonders, briefly and without permission, how it would feel to pull you closer instead of pushing himself away. The thought slips in so easily it startles him.
He dismisses it just as quickly.
Of course it felt good to wake up like that. Anyone would like being held when they’re exhausted. Anyone would crave gentleness after weeks of fear and blood and adrenaline. It doesn’t mean he wants more. It doesn’t mean anything about you specifically.
Except—
Except he doesn’t do that with anyone else.
The realization brushes past him, uncomfortable and sharp-edged, and he turns his attention anywhere but inward. He focuses on the room, the peeling paint, the low hum of equipment. He tells himself he’s just tired. That exhaustion makes everything feel heavier, warmer, more important than it actually is.
But his body betrays him again when you shift, when your knee brushes his, barely there. The contact sends a quiet jolt through him, small but undeniable, and he has to resist the instinct to lean into it. His jaw tightens. His hands curl briefly into fists before he forces them to relax.
This is why he doesn’t think about it.
Because the second he does, the idea of you stops feeling abstract and starts feeling close. Tangible. Possible in a way that scares him more than the monsters ever have. The thought of wanting you—really wanting you—opens a door he doesn’t trust himself to walk through.
So he reframes it.
He tells himself he’s protective. That he likes you because you’re good, because you’re part of his life, because losing you would hurt in the way losing family hurts. He tells himself that the warmth he feels when you’re near is just relief. That the way his chest tightens when he imagines you leaving Hawkins is normal.
That the strange, aching urge to reach for you again—to rest his head back where it fits so easily—is just habit.
But habits don’t make his pulse quicken when you’re close. They don’t make the room feel emptier when you pull away.
And they definitely don’t make him wonder, late at night when sleep won’t come, what it would be like if he stopped pretending that what he feels is anything less than what it is.
He pushes the thought down, deep and firm, and sits there beside you pretending he doesn’t want to reach out again. Pretending that if he did, you wouldn’t let him.
Your thoughts drift back in gently, like sunlight through a thin curtain.
Whatever heaviness lingered in the room a moment ago seems to lift, replaced by that familiar, fluttering warmth Steve always leaves behind—unsettling, yes, but not painful. Not tonight. Tonight, it feels almost like promise, even if you don’t know what kind.
You’re still trying to decode the look he gave you when he woke up. Not startled. Not uncomfortable. Just… thoughtful. Like he’d stumbled across something unexpected and hadn’t decided yet whether to pick it up or leave it where it lay. You tell yourself that if he really didn’t feel anything, it wouldn’t look like that. He wouldn’t hesitate. He wouldn’t sit there so still afterward, like he was afraid of disturbing something fragile.
You’ve never believed Steve Harrington is oblivious. Not really. Maybe he pretends to be. Maybe it’s easier that way.
You know you’ve been obvious—at least as obvious as you know how to be. You linger. You touch him when you can. You say his name like it matters, because to you, it does. You don’t confess in grand gestures or dramatic moments. You soften your edges around him and hope he notices the shape you’re making.
You’re good at carrying it. And maybe the fact that he hasn’t said anything is its own kind of answer… or its own kind of hope.
“Hey,” he says, voice still a little rough, like sleep hasn’t fully let go of him yet. “Where’s Robin?”
You smile softly, glad for the normalcy of the question. “Uh, I think she went to the hospital. To see Vickie. Not long after you fell asleep.”
He nods, thoughtful, fingers coming up to scratch at his chin. His eyes flick back to you, lingering just a fraction longer than necessary. The look he gives you makes your stomach dip—not unpleasantly, just… curiously. Like you’ve been seen, or almost seen.
“Oh,” he says quietly. "Okay.”
The silence that follows isn’t awkward. It rarely is with Steve. It’s the kind of silence that stretches comfortably, padded with shared understanding and things unsaid. You find yourself watching him again—how he shifts his weight, how his shoulders rise and fall with an easy breath, how familiar he feels to you in a way that still somehow surprises you.
“You hungry?” he asks suddenly, like the thought just occurred to him.
You blink, pulled from your reverie, and then laugh softly, a little sheepish. “Yeah,” you admit. “I could eat.”
“Cool,” he says, already on his feet. “I’ll make something.”
You follow him into the small kitchen without thinking twice. He moves around like he’s done this a hundred times—pulling bread from the bag, reaching for the counter, comfortable in the space. You lean against the doorway, arms loosely crossed, watching him with an affection you don’t bother questioning anymore.
There’s something about this—about him like this—that makes your chest ache in the best way. Steve Harrington making sandwiches feels absurdly intimate, like witnessing a secret version of him he doesn’t show just anyone. There’s something deeply endearing about the domesticity of it—Steve Harrington, savior of Hawkins, monster-fighter extraordinaire, making sandwiches. You can feel the rhythm of him before you fully register it—the scrape of the plate against the counter, the rustle of bread, the quiet hum he makes when he’s focused on something simple.
You’ve never really pictured yourself belonging anywhere.
Growing up, the future always felt like a road stretching outward, not inward. Cities you hadn’t seen yet. Names you hadn’t learned how to pronounce. You imagined yourself collecting places the way other people collected memories—moving on before things could root too deeply. Hawkins was supposed to be temporary. Everyone was temporary.
And maybe that’s still true.
But watching Steve stand there, shoulders relaxed, hair still a little messy from sleep, you feel something shift—not a loss of ambition, not a surrender of who you are, just a quiet adjustment. Like learning that wanting to go doesn’t mean you can’t want to stay, too. That loving the idea of elsewhere doesn’t cancel out the fondness blooming right here, in a kitchen that smells faintly of bread and mustard and safety.
You don’t think about settling.
You think about choosing.
You think about how Steve looks when he concentrates, how he always makes sure your sandwich has exactly what you like, even though you never explicitly told him. You think about how easy it feels to stand here with him, how natural it is to imagine more moments like this stacking up over time.
Your chest feels light. Hopeful. A little foolish, maybe—but happy.
You don’t need certainty tonight.
You just watch him, smile lingering, heart quietly insisting that whatever this is, it’s worth feeling—even if it takes him a while to feel it too.
Your thoughts come back to you slowly, like you’re waking from a good dream you’re not quite ready to let go of.
You don’t mean to stare.
His shoulders shift slightly, like he’s acknowledging it without turning around, and then—there it is. That smile. Small and private, tugging at the corner of his mouth like a secret he’s keeping to himself. Not shy, but like he finds you endearing in the way one finds a stray kitten endearing. Something soft. Something safe.
You smile back, easy and genuine.
For now, this is enough.
The quiet.
The closeness.
The unspoken hope that maybe—just maybe—he feels it too, even if neither of you are ready to say it yet.
When he finishes, he doesn’t announce it. He just turns, crosses the space between you in three easy steps, and presses a plate into your hands. His fingers brush yours—brief, warm—and before you can even react, his other hand comes up to ruffle your hair.
“Careful,” he says lightly, already moving past you, as if he hasn’t just undone you with one thoughtless gesture. “Don’t drop it.”
You smile because you’re supposed to. Because if he didn’t do things like that—if he didn’t touch you, didn’t smile at you, didn’t scratch your back absentmindedly when you’re sitting on the floor or let you curl your feet into his lap when just simply hanging out with the others—you’d spiral. You’d wonder what you did wrong. You’d replay every interaction, searching for the moment you misstepped.
He does these things so you don’t.
Because you’re important. Because you matter. Because—at the very least—you are his best friend.
That has to be it. Right?
He sits across the room now, sandwich already half demolished, crumbs falling onto the floor without a care in the world as he flips through the records mounted on the wall. He looks ridiculous and handsome and painfully himself, chewing with his mouth half open, completely unaware—or pretending to be—of the way you’re watching him.
Your gaze softens before you can stop it.
You hate that you can feel it happening. That stupid, traitorous devotion settling into your expression, warm and open and hopeful. You look at him like he’s something good that happened to you by accident. Like you’re grateful he exists.
He doesn’t look back.
You’re not sure if that’s mercy or cowardice.
You swallow, your smile faltering just a little, then steady yourself. You take a breath—slow, deliberate—like you’re bracing against a wave. You don’t want to confess. Not really. You just want clarity. Something. Anything. To know if you’re imagining all of this, or if he feels even a fraction of what you do.
“Hey, Steve?” you say, voice quieter than you intended.
He hums in response, distracted, still scanning the wall. Encouraged—or maybe desperate—you open your mouth again.
“Can we tal—”
The door swings open.
Your words evaporate instantly, dissolving into the air between heartbeats as Nancy and Jonathan walk into the station, voices overlapping, energy shifting the entire room. Steve turns toward them immediately, greeting them with easy familiarity, and just like that—the moment is gone.
You stand there with your sandwich growing cold in your hands, heart still braced for impact that never comes.
Steve never notices the way your shoulders sag just a little.
And you hate yourself for feeling relieved and disappointed all at once.
Two weeks later, Steve is sitting in the back of the van, simmering with a quiet, restless anger that has nowhere to go.
The crawl had ended badly. Again. One wrong sentence, one look held too long, and suddenly he and Dustin were standing in the middle of the road yelling at each other like the world wasn’t already ending often enough. Dustin had accused him of not listening. Steve had accused him of shutting everyone out. Neither of them had been entirely wrong, which somehow made it worse.
Dustin had taken off on foot before Steve could think of the right thing to say. The van had died not long after, coughing once like it was mocking him before falling silent for good. Steve would have followed Dustin home if he could have. Would have walked every mile just to fix it.
Instead, he’s stuck here.
Useless. Stranded. Proving his own point.
At least you’re beside him.
You’re sitting close enough that your shoulder presses into his, the contact steady and grounding, like you’re anchoring him to the present. Your knees are drawn up as you look out beyond the open doors of the van, eyes tilted toward the sky. The clearing stretches wide and quiet in front of you, the stars scattered carelessly overhead, bright and indifferent. You look like you belong to the night in a way he doesn’t—calm, observant, unafraid to sit with the silence.
Steve drags a hand through his hair, frustration curling inward, and finally gives voice to the thought that’s been gnawing at him since Dustin walked away.
“I just don’t understand what I’m doing wrong.”
You turn toward him then, and the movement is small but it steals his attention completely.
The starlight spills across your face in soft fragments, catching on your skin like it’s trying to memorize you. Shadows gather delicately beneath your eyes, your lashes casting faint lines over your cheeks. Your brows knit together as you study him, concern settling into your expression so naturally it feels instinctive—like caring about him is something your body does before your mind can stop it.
“Steve,” you say quietly, the sound of his name from your mouth always landing heavier than it should. “You’ve done nothing wrong. It’s not your fault Dustin won’t talk to you about what’s going on.”
He slouches further into himself, spine pressing against the cold metal of the van, shoulders rounding as if he can make himself smaller. Part of him hopes Hopper will show up soon—headlights cutting through the dark, a reason to move, to stop feeling like this. Another part of him hopes the opposite.
Maybe being stuck out here with you is easier than going back to everything he can’t fix.
“I just feel so useless,” he admits, voice rough, eyes fixed on the dirt below the stars. “Like all I’m good for is driving this shitty van around. No one takes me seriously.”
You smile at him then, and it isn’t pity. That’s what gets him. It’s so certain, like you’re stating a fact.
“That’s not true,” you say gently. “You’re smart. And you’re brave, Steve. You—”
You lean your head against his shoulder before you finish the thought.
Steve freezes.
You’ve done this before. Countless times. He’s never flinched, never questioned it. This is how you exist together—easy and comfortable in ways that feel older than the two of you combined.
But tonight, the weight of your head against him feels different. More deliberate. More careful. His body registers it before his mind can catch up, every nerve suddenly aware of where you end and he begins.
Then your hand moves.
Slowly. Like you’re giving him time to object.
He watches, heart thudding loud enough he’s sure you can hear it, as your fingers come to rest on his knee. The touch is light, almost tentative, but it might as well be a spark. He feels everything all at once—your warmth, the steadiness of you, the fact that you’re choosing him in this quiet, terrifying way.
He tells himself he feels nothing.
He tells himself this is just comfort. That this is what friends do when the world keeps demanding more than it gives back. That his heart is racing because he’s tired, because he’s upset, because everything has been too much for too long.
When you pull back slightly to look up at him, he can’t let himself meet your eyes.
If he does, something will break.
He stares straight ahead instead, jaw tight, forcing his breathing to even out. He thinks about Hawkins. About how small it is. About how much bigger your life is meant to be. About how unfair it would be to let you tether yourself to someone who’s already decided he can’t want more.
“Steve…” you start, voice softer now, careful. “I’ve really wanted to talk to you about—”
“Oh—hey,” he cuts in too fast, the words tumbling out like a lifeline. “Look. Hopper’s here.”
Headlights crest the clearing just then, blinding and sudden, and Steve doesn’t wait to see your face. He hops out of the van, waving his arms like he’s been rescued, relief flooding his chest so hard it almost knocks the air from his lungs.
As Hopper’s car rolls closer, he glances back once.
You’re still sitting there, hand retreating into your lap, expression smoothed into something neutral but fragile. Guilt settles heavy and unwelcome in his chest, sharp and undeniable.
Relief sits right beside it. And that might be the worst part of all.
.-.-.-.
This could be the last everything.
The thought settles into you as you strap the final blade to your thigh, fingers trembling not from fear exactly, but from the overwhelming awareness of finality. The room hums with motion—people loading weapons, murmuring strategies, checking each other for wounds that haven’t happened yet—but it all feels distant, muffled, like you’re underwater.
Last battle.
Last stand.
Last breath.
And maybe—most terrifying of all—the last time you ever see Steve Harrington.
The idea lodges in your chest and refuses to move. You try to ignore it. You really do. You tell yourself there will be time later, after, when Vecna is gone and the world is quieter and your heart isn’t beating like it’s trying to escape your ribcage.
But your body doesn’t believe in later.
Your body knows that this is the kind of night people regret staying silent on.
So you move. Almost on instinct. You leave the noise behind, the chaos, the half-formed goodbyes disguised as jokes. You find him where you hoped you would—alone, just beyond the others, standing still like he’s bracing himself against the moment.
Steve looks… unreal.
He’s dressed for war, finally leaning into it—fitted camo shirt clinging to his shoulders and arms, sleeves settling just enough to expose skin already marked with old scars. The army pants sit low on his hips, worn-in and practical, like he’s always belonged in something like this. His hair is under a backwards cap, curls escaping anyway, his face set into something serious and sharp. A soft bruise on his cheek that he wouldn't tell you where it came from.
He looks like someone you could lose forever.
Fear rushes through you so fast it almost knocks the air from your lungs.
“Steve,” you say, before you can lose your nerve. “I need to talk to you about something.”
He stiffens immediately. You see it. The way his shoulders tense, the way his jaw tightens like he already knows what’s coming.
“I’ve been trying to talk to you about it for weeks,” you continue, words tumbling out faster now. “And I just—I can’t keep waiting because—”
He closes his eyes.
Shakes his head.
“No,” he says quietly, but there’s panic underneath it. “Please don’t.”
You stop short. “What?”
His breath stutters as he exhales, hand coming up to scrub over his face like he’s holding himself together by sheer force. “Just… don’t say what you’re about to say.”
Your heart sinks, sharp and sudden. “Steve—”
“Please,” he says again, opening his eyes now, and there’s something raw there. Something scared. “Just don’t.”
Embarrassment floods you first, hot and unwelcome. Then irritation follows close behind, louder, braver.
“Steve, we have no idea what’s about to happen,” you say, voice shaking despite yourself. “This could be the last time we ever see each other. The last time we ever talk. If that’s the case, you need to know—”
“And if we don’t die?” he snaps, the words cutting through the air like glass.
You flinch, but he keeps going, breath coming fast now, eyes wide and frantic.
“If you say it—if you say what I think you’re going to say—then it’s real. And you can’t undo that. What then? Everything changes.”
Your throat tightens.
“Exactly,” you say, voice cracking. “I want things to be different.”
You take a shaky step closer, heart pounding so loud you swear he can hear it.
“Don’t you?”
Steve swallows hard. You watch his throat bob, his mouth part like he’s about to speak—and then close again. He looks everywhere but at you, shaking his head like the answer is physically lodged somewhere he can’t reach.
“I—” he starts, then stops. “I can’t.”
The words hit harder than anything hell could throw at you.
“But…” you trail off, suddenly feeling foolish, exposed. Your mind scrambles, replaying everything you’ve clung to for months. The touches. The looks. The way he’d soften around you like you were something precious.
What about us?
What about the way he held you like it meant something?
"Look..." he mumbles your name, already formed and molded like an apology. He tilts his head like he's pitying you.
“You’re a really…” His voice falters, catches on something sharp in his throat. “You’re a really good—”
“I swear,” you cut in, your voice breaking before you can stop it, already knowing where this is going, already bracing for impact, “if you say it—”
Something inside you snaps clean in two.
“—friend.” he finishes.
The word lands between you, shattering on the floor. Loud. Irreversible.
Silence rushes in to fill the space it leaves behind, thick and suffocating, pressing against your ears until all you can hear is the pounding of your own heart. Everything unsaid crowds the air—every look, every touch, every almost. It all sits there now, heavy and useless, like ruins after a collapse.
Your eyes burn. You blink hard, but it doesn’t help. The hurt comes fast, then the anger—hot and wild and righteous, rising up to protect what’s left of your pride.
“How long?” you ask, your voice low, trembling despite your best efforts. “How long have you known?”
Steve is the one who falters this time. He stops short, breath catching, shoulders sagging like he’s finally tired of holding himself upright.
“I—” he swallows. “For a while.”
The admission hits harder than the rejection.
You laugh once, sharp and humorless, the sound tearing its way out of your chest. “And you weren’t going to say anything?” Your voice rises despite yourself. “You were just going to let me… what? Pine over you? Until when, Steve?”
Betrayal settles deep in your bones, cold and nauseating. You take a step back from him, distance blooming between you like a wound you didn’t know you were capable of feeling. Shame creeps in too, unwanted and vicious, whispering that you were foolish for hoping, foolish for thinking you were different.
He shrugs, helpless and small, eyes darting everywhere but your face. When he finally speaks, it’s barely above a murmur.
“I don’t know,” he admits.
The casualness of it makes your chest ache. Like this was all some abstract problem he never bothered to solve.
“Is it Nancy?” you demand suddenly, grasping for reason, for something that makes sense. “Is that it? You’re just not over her?”
That finally gets a reaction.
He looks angry now, sharp and defensive, like you’ve crossed some invisible line. “Why the hell does everyone—” He cuts himself off with a frustrated huff. “My god. Nancy is just a friend.” His hand slices through the air, decisive. Final.
The answer doesn’t comfort you. It devastates you.
“And so am I?” you ask quietly.
This is it. You know it. Your last chance to give him space to reconsider, to take one step forward instead of ten back. Your eyes plead even if your voice doesn’t. You don’t ask for promises. You don’t ask for certainty. Just honesty.
He blinks slowly, like he’s choosing his words carefully, tongue pressing into his cheek. When he finally looks at you, there’s something closed-off there, something resolute.
“Yes,” he whispers. Then, like he needs to convince himself as much as you, “I mean… come on. Us together wouldn’t make any sense. It’s kind of ridiculous, if you think about it.”
Something in your face hardens.
You shake your head, lips pressing together as if to keep yourself from saying something you can’t take back. Your eyes flare, bright and furious, and you point at him, the gesture trembling with emotion.
“No,” you say, voice sharp and shaking. “Screw you, Steve. Don’t you dare undermine how I feel just because you’re a coward.”
His face falls, but you don’t stop. You can’t.
“If you think—” your voice cracks, but you push through it, “if you think I’m still going to be your friend after this, if we make it out alive—then you’re the delusional one.”
He says your name, panicked now, reaching for you like he’s only just realizing what he’s about to lose.
But you’re already gone.
You turn away before he can see the tears spill, before your composure fully collapses. You find the bathroom on instinct, locking the door behind you like it can keep the world out. The sob tears itself from your chest, choked and broken, and you press a hand over your mouth to silence it.
If nothing else, you won’t let him see you cry. You’ve already given him everything else.
.-.-.-.
Steve has always trusted height.
Trusted the way the world looks smaller from above, how fear thins out when you’re high enough that nothing feels close enough to touch you. He’s climbed fences, rooftops, trailers—stood on ledges with nothing but air beneath his boots and laughed like it made him invincible.
So when the tower shudders beneath him, it takes a second for his body to understand what his mind hasn’t caught up to yet.
It isn’t the noise that scares him first.
It’s the feeling.
The subtle wrongness—the way the metal vibrates too long, too deep, like a warning bell that won’t stop ringing. The way the wind shifts, suddenly aggressive, ripping at his jacket like it’s trying to pull him loose. Steve’s stomach drops before his brain supplies the reason, adrenaline surging sharp and cold through his veins.
The tower is leaning.
His heart slams against his ribs as his eyes fly wide, breath punching out of him in a sharp, panicked inhale. He grabs the railing instinctively, knuckles whitening as he feels the tilt deepen, metal groaning beneath his grip like it’s protesting its own existence.
The crack.
Metal screaming against itself, the tip of the tower splitting and bending, and his eyes go wide as terror finally, fully takes hold. His gaze snaps to the side—and there you are.
You’re clutching the bars, knuckles white, hair whipping wildly around your face as the structure shifts beneath you. For one awful second, you look impossibly small against the vast, angry sky, and the sight of you there—so close to the edge, so vulnerable—rips something raw out of his chest.
You haven’t spoken since the station.
Neither of you have.
The silence between you has been unbearable, a living thing gnawing at him from the inside out. He has never felt so alone, not even surrounded by people, not even standing on the edge of disaster like this. And now, seeing you in danger, knowing the last words you shared were sharp and cruel and unfinished—it feels like the universe itself is punishing him for his cowardice.
“Watch out!” he shouts, but his voice cracks, fractures with fear as the tower finally gives way.
He doesn’t think. He just moves.
Steve lunges for you, grabbing you around the waist and hauling you toward the other side as the top of the tower collapses completely, metal shrieking as it tears free. The force nearly takes you both with it, but somehow—somehow—he gets you across, your body slamming into the safer section just as the needle breaks away entirely.
For a split second, everything is still.
You turn back to him, eyes wide and terrified, and you reach out your hand.
“Steve—”
He reaches for you.
He almost makes it.
Then something catches—his foot snagging, the ground beneath him vanishing—and suddenly he’s not standing anymore. He’s sliding, fingers scraping uselessly against metal, panic roaring so loudly in his ears he can’t hear himself scream.
He goes over the edge.
His hands catch at the last second, gripping the lip of the tower with a force born purely of instinct. Beneath him is nothing but air and distance and death—hundreds of feet of it. The wind howls up at him, violent and merciless, tugging at his body like it’s impatient to claim him.
His own plan is going to kill him.
Steve Harrington, monster slayer, protector, idiot.
His arms burn. His shoulders scream. His fingers already ache as they dig into the edge, skin tearing, sweat making everything slick. He can’t pull himself up. He knows it immediately. There’s no leverage. No miracle waiting quietly in reserve. His breath comes in ragged gasps, panic roaring so loud in his ears it drowns out everything else.
He hears you scream his name.
“Steve! No—!”
Your voice is raw, broken, carried by the wind but unmistakably yours. Somewhere farther back, he hears another voice—Robin’s—shouting your name, telling you not to move, to stay back. He can’t see you. Not your face. Not your eyes. And that, more than anything, hurts.
His grip starts to fail.
One finger slips.
Then another.
And in that suspended moment—hanging between life and death—Steve realizes something with terrifying clarity.
He’s about to die.
This is it. The end of the sentence. No more after. No redemption arc. No time to fix what he broke or say what he was too afraid to admit. His chest tightens painfully as the truth crashes into him. He doesn’t want it to end like this. He doesn’t want it to end at all.
His life flashes before his eyes, but it isn’t the way people say it is. It isn’t random. It isn’t his childhood home or high school trophies or old versions of himself he barely recognizes anymore.
It’s you.
Every memory, every year since the world cracked open—there you are. Sitting beside him. Laughing at him. Your head on his shoulder. Touching him softly like he’s something worth caring for. Looking at him with hope he was too scared to hold.
You were right.
God, you were so right.
You were right to want to say it. The right to believe. He should have let you finish. Should have listened. Because now—
Now the only thing keeping him here, keeping his fingers locked around the edge just a second longer, is the knowledge that it all meant something.
That it wasn’t one-sided.
That you saw something real in him—and wanted it enough to risk everything.
His pinky slips.
The anger comes first—hot and sharp and sudden. Anger at himself. At his fear. At all the ways he chose safety over honesty. He’s going to die and you’ll never know that you were right—that it did all mean something, that it was never ridiculous.
And then—strangely—happiness.
Because somehow, that knowledge feels like grace.
When gravity finally wins, when his hands give out completely, Steve closes his eyes.
If he’s going to die, he wants to die with you in his mind.
The way your smile starts slow, like it’s deciding whether to trust the moment. The softness in your eyes when you think no one’s looking. The warmth of your presence, steady and grounding, like home isn’t a place but a feeling. The sound of your laugh. The way you say his name like it’s something worth holding onto.
You.
Always you.
And as the wind roars past him and the world drops away—
And as Steve Harrington falls, that’s what he takes with him.
That is, until he isn't falling anymore. He feels it before he understands it.
A hand—strong, unyielding—clamps around his wrist, tight enough that it hurts, tight enough that it’s real. Steve’s eyes fly open, his mouth parting in a soundless gasp as he looks up into a face he never thought he’d be so grateful to see.
Jonathan.
“Steve—hey, I’ve got you,” Jonathan’s voice cuts through the roar of blood in his ears, strained but steady. “I’ve got you,” Jonathan says, grounded, like this isn’t the most terrifying moment of Steve’s life. Like Steve isn’t dangling over nothing.
Steve doesn’t question it. He tightens his grip instantly, fingers locking around Jonathan’s arm with everything he has left, his whole body shaking now that the adrenaline has somewhere to go. His muscles scream in protest as Jonathan braces himself and hauls him upward inch by agonizing inch, metal scraping, breath tearing out of Steve’s chest in broken sounds he doesn’t recognize as his own.
“I’ve got you,” Jonathan repeats, louder this time. “Don’t let go.”
A strangled sound tears out of him as Jonathan hauls upward, muscles straining, teeth bared with effort.
They work together—Steve scrambling, Jonathan pulling—until suddenly there’s solid metal beneath Steve’s boots again. He collapses forward, chest heaving, palms scraping against the tower as he drags himself fully onto it.
It doesn’t feel real.
He stays there for a second, chest heaving, palms flat against cold metal, dizzy with the sudden absence of gravity trying to claim him. The tower is still swaying slightly beneath him, but he’s balanced. Upright. Alive. He thinks, wildly and irrelevantly, that he will never ride another rollercoaster for as long as he lives.
Once he stands up, Dustin crashes into him.
Steve barely has time to brace before there are arms around his neck, crushing and frantic, Dustin’s weight knocking the breath from his lungs.
“Dude!” Dustin yells, voice cracking. “Oh my god—you scared the shit out of me!”
“Holy shit,” Steve laughs, voice breaking. “Holy shit, man—I’m okay. I’m okay.” Steve's voice is shaky and hysterical, his hands coming up automatically to hug him back. The sound surprises him, even as it tears out of his chest. Relief does that, he guesses—it spills everywhere, uncontrollable.
At least I something right. Steve thinks distantly, squeezing Dustin a little tighter.
But then he looks up.
And his heart stumbles like it’s forgotten how to beat properly.
You’re standing just a few feet away, frozen in place like the world stopped moving without your permission. Your eyes are blown wide, glassy and red-rimmed, tears streaking unchecked down your face. Your hands are clenched at your sides, knuckles white, your whole body drawn tight with panic that hasn’t realized yet it’s allowed to let go.
You look devastated.
Like he actually died.
There’s relief there—he can see it, trembling just beneath the surface—but it’s tangled with something darker, something that looks like horror carved deep enough to leave a permanent mark. Like the image of him slipping, falling, vanishing has burned itself into you and won’t fade just because he didn’t.
And suddenly, there is nothing he can do about it. And it hits him harder than the fall ever could have.
Steve’s chest tightens painfully as he stares at you, fingers curling uselessly at his side. There is no way he can do what he wants to do. No way he can cross the distance between you and pull you into his arms, no matter how desperately his body screams for it.
He wants to hug you.
Wants to press you against him, solid and breathing and alive, prove it to you with his hands. He wants to kiss the tears off your cheeks, thumbs warm and steady as he tells you it’s okay—he’s okay—you’re okay. He wants to tell you he’s sorry. Sorry for scaring you. Sorry for everything he’s ever held back.
He wants to tell you he’s alive.
And that he wants to stay that way.
For you.
Dustin is still talking, still half-laughing, half-yelling, and Steve laughs back, nodding along, pretending he’s still fully here. But his eyes keep finding you, over and over, like his body knows where home is even if his mind is still catching up.
You don’t move toward him.
You just stare, breathing shallow, like you’re afraid that if you blink he’ll disappear again.
Shit.
He almost died.
And if he had—if Jonathan’s hand hadn’t reached him in time—he would have gone without ever telling you the truth. Without ever admitting the thing that’s been growing quietly inside him, reshaping everything he thought he knew.
Who is he kidding?
He likes you.
No—he likes you.
And liking you doesn’t look like fireworks or reckless passion or the kind of love songs he used to think mattered. It looks quieter than that. Scarier than that.
It looks like noticing when you’re cold before you say anything and handing you his jacket without a second thought. Like remembering how you take your coffee, even when you swear you’re “not picky.” Like feeling the absence of your touch like phantom pain when you pull away.
It looks like wanting to protect you—not because you need it, but because the thought of anything hurting you makes his chest feel too tight to breathe. Like choosing where to stand so he’s always between you and danger. Like listening for your voice in every room without realizing he’s doing it.
It looks like letting you see him exhausted and scared and soft, trusting you with the parts of himself he never meant to give anyone again. Like falling asleep in your lap because his body knows you’re safe even when his mind refuses to admit it.
It looks like fear.
Because liking you means risking everything he’s been trying so hard not to want. It means imagining a future and hating himself for it. It means knowing that if he lost you—really lost you—it would ruin him in ways he might not come back from.
And standing here now, watching you look at him like he almost disappeared forever—
Steve realizes something with terrifying clarity.
If he had fallen…
You wouldn’t have just lost a friend.
And that means he’s been wrong all along.
Not about you.
About himself.
And for the first time since Nancy, since the world taught him how easily love turns into loss, Steve Harrington wonders if the thing he’s been running from is the only thing that’s ever really mattered.
Steve Harrington has spent months convincing himself that feelings can be managed, postponed, ignored until they fade. But standing here, alive by sheer luck, watching you hold yourself together like you’re made of glass, he understands something with terrifying clarity:
This isn’t something he can outrun.
And if he gets another chance—another breath, another tomorrow—he doesn’t want to waste it pretending he doesn’t know exactly how he feels.
Much later—hours later, maybe, though time feels like a concept that’s slipped through everyone’s fingers—the war is over.
The realization doesn’t come with celebration or triumph. It comes softly, uneasily, like waking up after a nightmare and realizing your heart is still racing even though the monster is gone. There’s an unreal quality to it all, like the world has tilted slightly off its axis and no one knows how to straighten it again. You wonder if there’s such a thing as normal after this. If normal is something you can return to, or if it’s something you have to invent from scratch.
No one has anywhere to go.
The Wheelers’ house is destroyed. The Byers are staying with what’s left of it, crowded into borrowed rooms and borrowed time. Lucas and Dustin don’t want to explain their disappearance yet—not to parents who would look at them and see something different now, something older and more broken.
So the decision is made easily, quietly.
They gather what they need. Clothes, toothbrushes, whatever can pass for comfort. And they regroup at the station. It’s not because it’s ideal, but because it’s the circumspect option. Because no one wants to be alone tonight.
Cots and sleeping bags fill every open space, air mattresses tucked into corners and beside desks. It looks like a refugee camp, or maybe the aftermath of a long party where no one quite remembers how it started. You go home just long enough to shower, letting the hot water beat against your skin until your hands shake and your thoughts finally slow.
When you return, you claim a spot on an air mattress beside the couch.
It just happens to be where Steve is too.
The lights are low. The station is quiet in that strange, collective way—like everyone is pretending to sleep, unsure if rest is allowed yet. You’re not sure anyone actually is asleep. Somewhere off to your left, there’s a soft, uneven snore that you’re fairly certain belongs to Hopper.
You lie on your back, staring at the ceiling, listening to Steve’s breathing nearby. Slow. Steady. Alive.
Your heart sinks unexpectedly, sharp and heavy all at once.
The image of him slipping from the tower flashes uninvited through your mind—his body falling, the sound of your own scream tearing out of you, the certainty that you were watching him die. You’d thought you lost him forever.
And now, here he is.
Safe. Close.
And you’re the one too scared to say anything.
You sit up quietly, careful not to disturb anyone, your eyes lingering on the back of Steve’s head. His hair curls slightly at the nape of his neck, rising and falling with each breath. He looks peaceful in sleep, like the world hasn’t nearly taken him from you twice in one night.
Your chest tightens.
You slip out carefully, weaving past a cot where Max and El lie close together, shoulders touching. You push open the door to the stairwell and climb slowly, each step echoing too loudly in your ears. When you reach the roof, the night air hits you immediately—sharp and cold—and you regret not grabbing a blanket almost instantly.
Still, you needed this.
The sky stretches wide above you, dark and deceptively calm. Your eyes keep playing tricks on you, flashes of red lightning and shadow flickering at the edges of your vision. You know the Upside Down isn’t gone. Not really. Maybe it never will be.
You sink down onto the concrete, drawing your knees to your chest, burying your face against them as you let out a shaky breath.
Then—warmth.
Sudden and unmistakable.
You gasp softly, startled, and look up just as Steve lowers himself beside you. A blanket settles around your shoulders, cocooning you in heat, and you clutch it instinctively, fingers tightening in the fabric like it’s an anchor.
He doesn’t say anything.
He just sits there, arms resting loosely over his knees, close enough that you can feel his presence without him touching you. The moonlight spills over him, softening his features, tracing the familiar lines of his face. His hair is still damp from the shower he must have taken—curling slightly more than usual, darker at the roots. He looks tired in a way that goes deeper than exhaustion, like something inside him is still bracing for impact.
And that’s when it all finally catches up to you.
You don’t hesitate. You don’t think. You lean into him, face pressing hard against his shoulder, the sob breaking free before you can stop it. Tears spill hot and fast, soaking into his shirt as your body curls inward, shaking.
“I almost lost you,” you whisper, voice fractured, barely holding together.
Steve doesn’t move at first.
But you feel it anyway—the way his body shudders beneath you, subtle but unmistakable, like something inside him has finally given way. His chest tightens against your cheek, breath hitching, and when he speaks, his voice is rough and torn open, like it’s scraped its way out of him.
“I was so scared,” he croaks.
The words are small, but they split something wide open in you.
You tighten your grip instinctively, fingers fisting in the fabric of his shirt, anchoring yourself to the undeniable proof that he’s here. Alive. Warm. Real. And then he shifts, suddenly and decisively, arms wrapping around you as he pulls you fully into his lap. His hold is firm—protective, desperate—like he’s afraid if he loosens even slightly, you’ll disappear.
His face buries itself into the crook of your neck, breath hot and uneven against your skin, and you hear him cry. Not loudly. Not dramatically. Just quiet, broken sounds that vibrate straight through you.
“I was so scared I was gonna die,” he whispers, voice muffled, wrecked. “And you were never gonna know.”
Your breath stutters violently.
“K-know what?” you hiccup, the question tumbling out before you can stop it.
He pulls back just enough to look at you, and the sight of his face nearly undoes you completely. He looks shattered—eyes red and glassy, jaw trembling like it’s taking everything he has not to fall apart again. He swallows hard, throat bobbing, like he’s forcing himself to stay present.
“Know,” he says hoarsely, “what a complete asshole I was being.”
Your heart aches.
“Making you think I didn’t care,” he continues, words rushing now, messy and unfiltered. “Making you believe that I don’t—” He cuts himself off with a sharp breath, frustration clawing at him. “That I just wanted—shit. Fuck.”
He squeezes his eyes shut, forehead pressing briefly against yours.
“Please tell me I didn’t ruin it,” he pleads. “Please tell me I can still say it.”
You nod before he even finishes the sentence, chest rising and falling too fast, breath coming in shallow gasps. Your hands clutch at his shoulders like they’re the only solid things left in the world.
“Yes,” you whisper. “Please.”
He says your name like it’s a prayer.
His hand comes up slowly, reverently, cupping your cheek. His thumb brushes gently beneath your eye, wiping away a tear with a tenderness that feels almost unbearable after everything. When he looks at you, it’s with a raw honesty that makes your chest ache.
“When I thought I was dead,” he says quietly, “all I could think about was you.”
Your breath catches sharply.
“You have a permanent place in my heart,” he continues, voice breaking again. “And you were right. About everything. I was too afraid. Too afraid to say it, too afraid to lose you, too afraid to be wrong.”
He lets out a shaky breath, his forehead dropping to yours.
“I’m so sorry.”
The words settle into you slowly, sinking past the hurt, past the anger, into the place that has always loved him. You don’t need him to grovel. You don’t need grand declarations or perfect timing. You just needed this—the truth, spoken at last.
You wrap your arms around him again, pulling him close, holding him like you might never let go.
“Steve,” you murmur into his shoulder, voice soft but steady. “I forgive you.”
He exhales a broken sound, something between a laugh and a sob, and holds you tighter, like the world might finally, finally let him keep you.
Before another doubt can gather on your tongue, Steve is already there.
His forehead presses to yours, firm and grounding, like he’s anchoring himself to the reality of you. Both of his hands come up to frame your face, palms warm, fingers digging just slightly into your skin like he’s afraid you might disappear if he doesn’t hold on tightly enough. His eyes search yours—not glancing, not fleeting—but lingering, memorizing. Dark and wide and impossibly soft all at once.
It feels like he’s burning you into himself. Like he’s falling again and needs one last look to make sure you’re real.
“This is real,” he whispers, breath trembling between you.
Then, steadier. Certain. His gaze sharpens, deepens, something resolute settling behind it.
“My feelings for you are real.”
The sound you make surprises you—a breathless laugh, bright and relieved and a little disbelieving. It spills out of you before you can stop it, joy bubbling up through all the fear you’d been carrying.
“Steve,” you say, smiling so hard it almost hurts. “I like you so much.”
For a moment, neither of you move.
You just exist there together, the space between your faces impossibly small. He exhales shakily, his nose brushing yours, nudging softly like he’s asking permission without words. Your eyes flutter shut, head tilting instinctively, surrendering the moment to him—letting him decide where this goes.
There isn’t hesitation.
You feel his breath first, warm and relieved against your cheek, before his mouth presses there—gentle, reverent, like he’s grounding himself again. Then his hand slides to the back of your neck, fingers threading into your hair, and he pulls you in—
Your lips crash together.
It’s everything all at once. Plush and warm and imperfect. His lips are a little chapped, a little desperate, and you don’t care because it feels right. Like something that’s been waiting far too long finally finding its place. He kisses you like he’s learning you, like he’s afraid to rush and afraid not to all at once.
You smile into it when your name slips from his mouth, barely more than a breath.
He’s gentle—careful in the way only someone who feels deeply can be—guiding the kiss, deepening it as your heads tilt together instinctively, bodies aligning like they’ve always known how to do this. You know what he’s about to do before he does it, and the knowing makes your chest ache.
When he sighs, you feel it everywhere.
Your fingers curl into his shirt, sliding beneath the fabric at his waist, feeling the warmth of him there. He reacts immediately—breath hitching, grip tightening—his hand splaying between your shoulders to pull you closer, closer, until there’s no space left to question anything.
From Steve’s side, it feels like falling again—but this time there’s no terror underneath it. Only you. Solid and real and holding him just as tightly. His heart swells so painfully he thinks it might split him open. He kisses you like he’s grateful. Like he’s been forgiven by the universe itself.
The kiss grows heavier, slower, charged with everything you didn’t say before tonight. Foreheads touch. Lips part. Breath mingles. You feel each other everywhere without needing to move much at all—knees brushing, chests pressed, heat building simply because neither of you wants to let go.
Reality crashes back in only when he nips gently at your bottom lip and you both have to pull away, gasping for air.
A thin, trembling thread of salvia connects you.
Steve’s eyes are blown wide—soft, stunned, shining in the moonlight. Those big, doe-like eyes you’ve loved forever look wrecked in the most beautiful way, like he’s finally let himself feel everything at once.
He rests his forehead against yours again, breathing you in, holding you like he’s afraid the world might still try to take this from him.
Steve doesn’t pull away.
Instead, he succumbs to another deep kiss—slow at first, like he’s asking with his body what he already knows the answer to. His mouth opens just enough for you to feel the warmth of him, the gentle insistence, the unmistakable slide of tongue against tongue. It’s unpracticed and perfect, a little messy, a little breathless, like neither of you has the patience to be careful anymore.
Your hands tighten in his shirt as his tongue brushes yours again, tentative and then bolder, and something low and needy coils in your stomach. You shift without thinking, your body instinctively seeking him out—and the friction is immediate.
Your weight settles there naturally, like you’ve always belonged, knees on either side of his thighs, the heat of him undeniable. When you move—just barely, just enough—Steve breaks the kiss with a sharp inhale, his forehead dropping to your shoulder as if he needs the grounding.
“Oh,” he breathes, stunned, like the sound escaped him without permission.
He presses closer, the kiss opening fully now—tongues sliding, slow and searching, learning the shape of each other with an urgency that’s been held back for far too long. It’s uncoordinated in the way first truths often are, breath breaking apart between you, lips chasing lips because neither of you knows where to stop.
You shift again—subtle, instinctive—and the friction sharpens.
Being in his lap feels suddenly unavoidable, undeniable. Every small movement drags awareness through you, a low, insistent heat that pools and builds and refuses to be ignored. You rock once, then again, not even consciously, just following the pull of it—and Steve groans softly into your mouth, the sound vibrating straight through you.
His hands tighten at your waist, anchoring you there. His thumbs press in, grounding and needy, like he’s bracing himself against the intensity of it. He’s breathing harder now, chest rising fast beneath your palms, and when he looks at you his eyes are wide and dark and completely undone—those big, soft eyes blown open with want, lashes clumped, mouth parted like he doesn’t quite trust himself to speak.
You kiss him again before either of you can think.
This time it’s hungrier. Tongues glide together in slow, heated strokes, the kiss turning heavy and unrestrained as your bodies move in quiet, desperate rhythm. You feel him respond instinctively, hips lifting just enough to meet you, the friction between you turning sharper, sweeter—enough to make your breath stutter and your thoughts blur at the edges.
Your names slip out between gasps, murmured and breathed into each other’s mouths like confessions.
Steve’s hand slides higher beneath your shirt, palm warm and steady against your back, holding you close as if the world might fall away if he lets go, finding it’s way to your front, cupping your breast through your bra. His thumb sneaks underneath the fabric, and you let out a hiss when it brushes your hardened nipple. His other hand stays firm at your hip, guiding you gently, like he’s both losing control and trying desperately not to.
From your side, everything feels amplified—the warmth, the pressure, the way every shift sends sensation spiraling through you. The waiting. The wanting. The way it all seems to narrow down to this one place where you’re pressed together, hearts racing, breath tangled.
You rest your forehead against his, both of you panting now, mouths brushing with every inhale. He exhales a broken, breathless sound—almost a laugh, almost a sob—and closes his eyes like he’s overwhelmed by the sheer reality of you.
When he opens them again, he looks at you like he’s already chosen you. Like there was never really another option.
Your hands slide under his shirt. Fingers brushing through the thatch of unruly coarse hair on his chest. His stomach is warm against your palms. His own fingers splayed against your ribs like he’s afraid to rush and afraid not to touch you at all. The contact sends a shiver through you, and you rock unconsciously, seeking more of that closeness, that pressure—the friction building between you, desperate and unignorable. His hardened length twitches against your aching clit.
Steve feels it too.
His breath stutters, hands tightening at your waist, thumbs digging in just enough to remind himself this is happening. He looks up at you then, eyes half-lidded, drunk with desire and disbelief. He looks at you like he’s never seen anything more beautiful—or more dangerous to his heart.
You kiss him again before he can think himself out of it.
This one is slower, deeper, tongues sliding together in a way that feels inevitable now. He follows your rhythm instinctively, hips lifting just slightly, meeting you in that quiet, urgent friction that makes your breath catch and your thoughts scatter. Your hips start to roll frantically now, uncontrollable. You’re desperate and so is he as he pushes you harder on top of him, the friction nearly unbearable as the heat bubbles.
Your names slip between kisses, whispered and breathed and half-lost against each other’s mouths. His mouth drifts to the corner of yours, then your jaw, kissing you like he’s apologizing and worshipping all at once.
“Stevestevesteve,” you pant. That coil in the pit of your stomach finally releasing, your nails digging into the nape of his neck.
Just hearing you moan and scream out his name allows him to have his own undoing, whining pathetically as he pulses, and lets out his warm sticky finish in his pants. “...fuck.”
You stay there together, shaking slightly, breathing each other in, the heat between you slowly settling into something deep and steady—secured, shared, and impossibly intimate.And for the first time, you know with absolute certainty— the wanting was never wasted.
Eventually, you make your way back down.
Steve stands first, steadying you as he pulls you in for another kiss—slow, tender, unhurried. The kind of kiss that doesn’t need urgency because it isn’t afraid of tomorrow.
“Lay with me tonight?” you ask quietly, the words barely louder than your heartbeat.
He smiles immediately, nodding with an enthusiasm that makes something warm bloom behind your ribs. Then he leans closer, voice dropping to a whisper, sheepish and fond.
“Yeah—uh. Just need to change first.”
Heat rushes to both your faces at the same time, identical and unmistakable. You laugh softly, ducking your head, knowing you can get away with staying exactly as you are until morning. His hand settles at the small of your back as he guides you inside—something he’s always done, but this time it’s different. More intentional. His thumb moves in slow, absent circles, like he’s grounding himself in the knowledge that you’re here.
You wait for him.
And when he comes back, you don’t even think—you step forward and wrap yourself around him again, arms tight, cheek pressed to his chest. There’s no embarrassment in the clinginess. Not when he’s just as bad—tightening his hold, kissing your cheek, your jaw, the soft skin of your neck in quick, affectionate flurries that make you laugh breathlessly.
He’s the one who takes your hand, fingers threading through yours, pulling you back toward the room full of sleeping bodies.
Mostly sleeping.
Because when you pass Max and El, their eyes are wide open, bright with unspoken commentary. They share a look—and then giggle quietly, conspiratorial and delighted. You catch the way Steve’s ears turn pink, freckles dusted rose beneath the blue glow of the sign outside, and it makes you love him even more.
You lay down first, lifting the blanket that’s still wrapped around you as Steve slides in beside you. The air mattress rustles under your combined weight, soft and familiar. He pulls you into his side immediately, decisive, like there was never another option. His face buries into the curve of your neck, breath warm and steady.
He presses a kiss to your pulse.
Then another.
And this time, his lips linger.
“Tomorrow,” he murmurs quietly, voice low and careful, “can I take you out on a date?”
You smile into the darkness, whispering back, “Tomorrow? That soon?”
Your mind flickers—rest, recovery, the enormity of everything you’ve survived. Were you allowed to step back into something normal this quickly? Were you allowed to want this?
Steve nods against you.
“Already wasted so much time,” he says softly. “I don’t want to lose a second with you, sweetheart.”
That does it.
You flop toward him, arms tangling together again, needy and unashamed. He holds you like he’s been waiting for permission his whole life. Somewhere in the quiet, you feel him sigh—content, awed—and you know he’s thinking the same thing you are.
That this is enough. That this is everything.
You press your face into his warm chest, breathing in the clean scent of soap and detergent and Steve, kissing just above the beating thrum of his heart.
“Yeah, Stevie,” you murmur, voice barely there anymore, worn soft by the night. “I wanna go on a date with you.”
For a moment, he doesn’t answer. He just exhales—long and slow—like something inside him has finally loosened its grip. His arms tighten around you, not urgently, not possessively, but with a steadiness that feels earned. His forehead rests against the crown of your head, and you feel the warmth of him there, the weight of his presence anchoring you in a way that doesn’t ask for anything more.
It feels ordinary in the best sense of the word. Like this is how it was always meant to be, once the noise quieted and the fear burned itself out.
You listen to the sound of his breathing, to the steady rhythm of his heart beneath your ear. You let yourself exist in this small pocket of peace, this moment carved out of everything you survived. The world hasn’t been repaired. Nothing is magically whole again.
But something important has been placed gently back where it belongs.
steve harrington x gracie williams(eventually)
word count: 6.9k
summary: After their failure to capture Dart, Gracie, Steve, and some of the kids are lead to the Hawkins lab where there's a large reunion. With the entire gang finally back together, they get to the bottom of what to do with Will, who's a confirmed spy for the mind flayer.
masterlist
STEVE, GRACIE, AND THE KIDS HAD JUST SURVIVED ALMOST BEING EATEN BY DUSTIN'S PET MONSTER. After Gracie's revelation that the demodogs were heading to the lab, they began making their way through the woods. In the meantime, everyone had a lot of catching up to do.
"You're positive that was Dart?" Lucas asked.
Nodding his head, Dustin was sure. "Yes. He had the same exact yellow pattern on his butt."
"You remember what his butt looks like?" Gracie asked, cringing her nose as Dustin glared at her.
"Is that what's really important right now Gracie?"
"I don't. I just think it's a little weird to memorize your pet's butt." Gracie shrugged.
"Are you sure it was him though? He was tiny two days ago." Lucas argued still unconvinced and wanting to get back on topic.
"Well, he's molted three times already." Dustin explained as they continued to trek through the woods.
"- Malted?" Steve asked, unsure what the word meant.
"- Molted." Gracie corrected, but seeing Steve's still confused face elaborated, "Shed his skin to make room for growth like hornworms."
"When's he gonna molt again?" Max asked, earning a sigh from Dustin.
"It's gotta be soon." Dustin estimated, "When he does, he'll be fully
grown, or close to it. And so will his friends."
"Yeah, and he's gonna eat a lot more than just cats." Steve added, making Lucas stop in his tracks.
"Wait, a cat?" Lucas asked Dustin in shock, "Dart ate a cat?"
"- No, what?" Dustin frantically lied making Gracie narrow her eyes in suspicion. She realized that Dustin hadn't told Lucas the entire truth once again.
Having not caught onto Dustin's facade though, Steve scrunched up his face, "What are you talking about? He ate Mews."
"Mews? Who's Mews?" Max asked, as Lucas boiled over in his rage.
"- It's Dustin's cat." Steve explained, making Dustin widen his eyes at the older boy.
"- Steve!"
"Dustin!" Gracie exclaimed, having thought the boy had come clean over his white lie, "I thought you told Lucas everything!"
"I knew it!" Lucas yelled, "You kept him!"
"No!" Dustin lied but Gracie yelled his name warningly making Dustin sigh. "I... He missed me. He wanted to come home."
"Bullshit!" Lucas yelled and although Gracie agreed with hi, she still had to warn him on his language.
Both of them ignored her as usual though, Dustin arguing, "I didn't know he was a Demogorgon, Okay?"
"- Oh, so now you admit it?" Lucas angrily asked, the two continuing to bicker.
But Steve didn't really seem to care sighing, "Guys, who cares? We have to go."
"I care!" Lucas yelled, "You put the party in jeopardy! You broke the rule of law!"
"- So did you!" Dustin bit back raising his voice even more.
"- What?"
"You told a stranger the truth!" Dustin argued making Max scoff.
"A stranger?" She asked in offense as Gracie put a hand on her shoulder to assure her that she wasn't.
"You wanted to tell her, too!" Lucas justified.
"- But I didn't, Lucas, okay? I didn't tell her!"
The fight didn't seem like it was going to end and Gracie would have intervened had it not been for a distant screeching that caught her attention.
Obviously, it had caught Steve's too the boy turning back look at Gracie, "You hear that too?"
Gracie nodded her head. "Unfortunately." Gracie turned to the kids who were still too engrossed in their fight to notice.
"We both broke the rule of law, okay?"
"Guys." Gracie called but to know avail.
"So we're even. We're even."
"No, no! We're not even. Don't even try that."
"Your stupid pet could have ate us for dinner!"
"That was not my fault!"
This time Steve tried to break up the fight, his eyes still trained to where ever the screeching had gone, "Guys?"
"He wasn't gonna eat us."
"He was crawling to come say hello?"
"Guys!"
Gracie and Steve yelled in unison both finally having enough. Immediately, both Dustin and Lucas shut up.
"Both of you were in the wrong okay?" Gracie reprimanded. "Dustin, you shouldn't have kept Dart or lie to us about it, and Lucas, you should've told the party your plan to tell Max... even though I'm glad he did." Gracie added, smiling at Max, "But I don't give a shit about any of that right now because do you hear that?" Gracie asked, everyone training their ears to the screeching. Everyone knew what it was. The demodogs.
After a moment of silence all of the begun to run towards the sound except for Max who stood in her place groaning.
"No, no, no. Hey, guys, why are you headed towards the sound?" However, they had already left, and Max had no choice but to follow.
"I don't see him." Dustin sighed, as the five looked around to track the sound once more.
"Gracie was right." Lucas said in a fearful yet sure tone, "It's the lab. They were going back home."
---------
"How much longer is this walk?" Dustin groaned as the five continued to walk for what seemed like forever towards the Hawkins Laboratory.
Gracie replies before pointing ahead, "I can see the top of the building just up there."
As the others sighed in relief, Gracie and Steve continued to take the lead, guiding the kids to their destination. "Max did make a good point... why are we going to the sound?" He asked, unsure of what the plan was once they got there.
Shrugging, Gracie replied, "I don't know. We never don't go toward the sound." She said, knowing she was more of an enabler at this point than a babysitter. If she was being honest herself, she couldn't quite resist the adventure.
Thinking about what they would face next, Gracie wondered if she would need to use her bat again. Looking at her's then the one Steve had, Gracie asked, "Can we trade bats?"
Looking at her as if she was crazy, Steve held the bat closer to him replying, "What, why?"
"Because!" Gracie exclaimed, holding up her plain bat not embellished in nails, "Mine is so boring."
"So? This one is mine." He replied possessively, "We've been through a lot together."
"Only for a little bit!" Gracie furthered, "Come on Harrington, let's switch."
"No way!" Steve said, "You'll break it!"
"How would I break a wooden bat with nails?" Gracie asked in exasperation.
"That's not the point. It's- I, that's-I"
"It's-uh-I" Gracie mimicked, the two full on bickering now.
As Gracie reached for it, Steve switched it to the other hand, "Paws off Williams."
"Don't be such a baby Harrington."
"Guys!" Dustin cut off having enough with their fighting, "This walk is excruciating enough without having to listen to you guys fight like five year olds."
"Shut up Henderson."
"Can it shit wad" Steve said the same time as Gracie.
"Guys!" Max exclaimed, pointing ahead to the end of the forest.
"We're here." Lucas announced as everyone began to walk closer to the now very visible laboratory, their previous fight quickly forgotten.
Nearing the open road, the trees suddenly began to grow closer and closer making it harder for the five to get through without running into twigs or bushes.
"Jesus christ its like a maze in here." Steve said, swatting a branch out of the way.
From very near, Gracie could begin to hear voices. Very familiar voices.
"Hello?"
"Who's there?"
"Who's there?"
"No f-ing way." Gracie muttered, walking faster through the forest.
"Wait Williams, where are you going?" Steve yelled extremely confused at the girl's sudden change of pace. But Gracie ignored him, focusing on the voices she heard. Finally reaching, the open road that turned out to be the entry way to the Laboratory, Gracie yelped in shock at who she saw.
"Gracie?"
Both Jonathan and Nancy said at once in complete shock and gratefulness it wasn't a killer in the woods or something like that.
"What are you doing here?" Nancy asked but before Gracie could answer the others came out of the woods.
"Jesus, Gracie." Steve complained, "It wasn't a race or something- Nancy?" Steve exclaimed, stopping his sentence midway.
"Steve?"
Both Jonathan and Nancy said simultaneously even more shocked to see the boy than Gracie.
"Okay, What are you doing guys here?" Nancy asked, "...together."
"What are you doing here?" Steve replied, looking curiously between Jonathan and Nancy.
"We're looking for Mike and Will." Nancy replied, as Gracie and Steve quickly looked at each other widening their eyes.
"They're not in there, are they?" Gracie asked, worry going through her head knowing that that was where the demodogs had gone as well.
"We're not sure..." Jonathan trailed off looking warily at Gracie, confused at her concern, "Why?"
Just then a screech was heard from within the Laboratory just ahead them, Steve and Gracie once again sharing a knowing look.
"Because of that." Steve replied, all of them now understanding the true graveness of the situation.
"Shit we need to get in there A.S.A.P" Dustin cursed quickly going to the entrance stand where a security guard always sat. Gracie figured that he was probably the only one who was able to escape the second he heard the demodogs begin to screech.
As Jonathan rushed alongside Dustin to try and open the gate, Max and Lucas ran to the front to try and peer through the barbed wall and into the laboratory.
This left, Steve, Gracie, and Nancy alone. Looking back and forth between Gracie and Steve, Nancy asked, "So... how did you guys end up together?"
"You can blame Dustin for that." Gracie shrugged, "He need us to track his pet."
"Which turned out to be a cat eater." Steve added on.
"So we tried to kill it in the junkyard." Gracie continued.
"Shittiest idea." Steve said shaking his head.
"The shittiest." Gracie agreed, "Dart brought his friends and we were about to die."
"But then they just left and so we followed them"
"and now we're here." Grace finished, but despite their elaborate story, Nancy still stared confused at them.
"What about... you and Jonathan?" Steve asked, not knowing if he wanted to know. Gracie, however, did know that she did not want to be apart of this soon to be very awkward conversation.
"I'm gonna go check on Dustin." Gracie said with a quick smile, disappearing before either of them could reply.
Moving over, she saw Dustin still rapidly pressing the red button which on the top was labeled ENTER.
"He's been at it for the past five minutes." Jonathan sighed, as Gracie looked at the boy in exasperation.
"Hey dingus, in case you haven't noticed the power is out." Gracie said, motioning to the pitch black darkness around them.
But she earned no response for the boy who only let out a string of curses as he continued to rapidly press on the button.
Rolling her eyes, Gracie turned to Jonathan. "So, how did it go with Nancy?"
At this, Jonathan rubbed the back of his neck as if guilty making Gracie look at the boy weirdly.
"What? Nothing happened between us!" Jonathan quickly excused, "You know we're just friends. The pullout was great." At the last part Jonathan winced, letting Murray's previous innuendo leave his mouth in his moment of panic, "The sofa I mean!"
"Nice?" Gracie questioned, "What I meant was how did your talk with Murray go?"
"Oh." Jonathan shortly replied, realizing he had royally fucked up. "Oh it went fine. Yeah he had this whole thing about watering it down which-"
"-Jonathan..." Gracie cut off, now curious about what the boy had originally thought she was asking, "What happened between you and Nancy?"
At this, a blush appeared onJonathan's cheeks still visible in the deep night, "I- uh- we- well-"
"God actually, I don't want to know." Gracie replied, scrunching her nose knowing that whatever had Jonathan so flustered was something she probably didn't want to know about.
Sending the girl a thankful and embarrassed smile, their attention was suddenly pulled back to Dustin who let out a combination of curse words Gracie didn't even know existed.
"Dustin!" Gracie warningly reprimanded, to the boy who was still very frustrated at the broken entrance button.
"Just give me a second Gracie!"
Throwing her hands in exasperation at the boy, the lights suddenly had switched on, the street being lit up by the headlights above.
"The power's back." Nancy announced, Dustin letting out a yelp of excitement as the front gate finally began to open.
"I did it!" He yelped in joy, "I did it!" But no one was around, everyone quick to jump into Jonathan's car to find Will and Joyce.
"Hey dipshit no one cares lets go!" Gracie yelled at Dustin, knowing there was no time to waste.
Standing right outside the door, Steve waited for Gracie to get into the car before going in himself slamming it shut. Cramped for space, Steve and Gracie were squished together.
Shaking off the lack of distance, Gracie counted off the kids to makes sure Max, Lucas, and Dustin were all in before giving the go for Jonathan to start the car and zoom towards the laboratory.
As they sped to the front door, the growls and screeches of the demodogs increased, making Gracie's heart start to drop. She couldn't imagine if Will and Joyce were in there. And if Will was there then Mike probably was too. Gracie wondered if they were- no she refused to even finish thinking that sentence.
Hearing Gracie's panicked breathing, Steve turned his head side ways to look girl. As if he could read her racing mind, he nudged her shoulder, succeeding to pull the girl out of her thoughts and into the eyes of Steve Harrington.
"Hey, it's gonna be okay." He reassured, with an expression that surprised Gracie with his sincerity and the fact he even noticed.
Returning the smile, Gracie nodded her head feeling slightly calmer. Little did either of them know another pair of eyes watching them in the passenger seat from the rearview mirror. Looking at her best friend and Steve, Nancy never thought she would see anything like it, but she couldn't help but a small smile grow on her face either.
"Holy shit." Jonathan breathed out, catching everyone's attention, at the demodog's shadows that appeared in the windows of the building.
"No freaking way." Lucas said in shock, as the everyone stared out of the left window in complete horror. As Jonathan pressed even harder on the gas pedal, Gracie saw Hopper pulling Joyce out of the front door, who seemed to be trying to go back in for some reason. Peering her head in even more, her heart stopped when she saw Bob Newby on the floor, being ripped apart by three demodogs.
She let out a gasp at the sight, having never seen something so gruesome. Gracie really liked Bob. She and the party were regular visitors of the local radio shack, always going in to buy trinkits and materials for the party's science projects. Whenever the boys would wander around their personal wonderland, Gracie often found herself talking to Bob.
She had learned he was the founder of the AV club and that his nickname in high school was Bob the Brain, which apparently was an insult but Gracie made sure to let Bob know it sounded more of like a superhero name to her. These were all small things she learned about him throughout the years, but now, none of that seemed to matter.
Gracie felt a tear fall before she even realized. She dreaded watching the Demogorgon take yet another bite out of his corpse, but she couldn't find it in herself to turn away. Suddenly, Gracie felt an arm tugging at her, forcing her to turn away from the window. Gracie was met Steve's sorrowful eyes once again.
"Don't look at it Williams." Steve softly but firmly asked her, tightening his hold on Gracie's arms in hopes of calming the girl, who was almost hyperventilating. Once again, all Gracie could find herself to do was nod her head, keeping her eyes on Steve as she tried to calm her heart rate. Somewhere amidst the chaos, Hopper, Joyce, Mike, and an unconscious Will finally crammed into the car. And just like that, they were off, leaving Bob Newby behind.
----------
Coming back to the Byer's residence, Gracie marveled at the drawings on the wall and floor all connecting into some elaborate maze. Gracie had been caught up on the entire situation of Will being a spy and that the shots on the table put him to sleep. Walking into the dining room, the kids were sporadically lay out in the room while Hopper was angrily yelling at law enforcement on the phone.
"Dr. Sam Owens. I don't know how many people are there! I don't know how many people are left alive! I am the police! Chief Jim Hopper! Yes, the number that I gave you, yes. I'll have them contact you."
Sighing, Gracie sat down at the table, rubbing her temples, "They didn't believe you, did they?"
"We'll see." Hopper replied with forced hope in his voice.
"We'll see?" Mike asked in outrage, "We can't just sit here while those things are loose!"
"We stay here, and we wait for help." Hopper said with complete calmness and conviction.
As everyone knew that a fight with Hopper was a death wish, Gracie and the kids kept quiet. They were too depressed and tired to pick a fight anyways.
After a moment of silence, Mike asked to no one in particular, "Did you guys know that Bob was the original founder of Hawkins AV?"
"Really?" Lucas asked in surprised.
"Yeah, Gracie told me." Mike said, as the girl nodded her head.
"He told me that time we went into to Radio Shack to buy materials for that electric motor we tried to make."
"The one that blew up?" Dustin and Lucas asked simultaneously.
Pointing at the boys, Gracie nodded her head. "That would be the one."
"He petitioned the school to start it and everything. Then he had a fund-raiser for equipment. Mr. Clarke learned everything from him. Pretty awesome, right?" Mike asked, as both Dustin and Lucas nodded their heads, "We can't let him die in vain." He said with determination.
"What do you want to do, Mike?" Dustin sighed, still not seeing any way forward, "The Chief's right on this. We can't stop those... Demo-dogs on our own."
"Demo-dogs?" Max asked thinking it was a ridiculous name.
"Demogorgon dogs." Dustin elaborated, "...Demo-dogs. It's like a compound. It's like a play on words...
"Okay." Max said, surrendering, as Gracie patted Dustin on the shoulder reassuring him that she liked the name.
Getting back on track, Lucas replied to Dustin's original qualm, "I mean, when it was just Dart, maybe... But there's an army now."
"Precisely." Dustin nodded in agreement, "- His army."
"What do you mean?" Max asked just as confused as most of the people in the room.
"His army." Dustin repeated as if saying it again would make it make sense. "Maybe if we stop him, we can stop his army, too"
Before anyone could ask anymore questions, which the were going to, Dustin scurried out of the room bringing back the Dungeons and Dragons handbook.
"The shadow monster." Dustin named, flipping expertly to a page on near the middle of the book. "It got Will that day on the field. The doctor said it was like a virus, it infected him."
By this point, Dustin's audience had grown to include Nancy, Jonathan, and Hopper as well, who was stalking in the corner of the kitchen.
"And so this virus, it's connecting him to the tunnels?" Nancy asked, trying to piece everything herself as well.
"To the tunnels, monsters, the Upside Down, everything."
"Whoa. Slow down. Slow down." Lucas asked, "Okay, so, the shadow
monster's inside everything. And if the vines feel something like pain, then so does Will."
"- And so does Dart." Mike added, Dustin nodding his head advidly, glad that the group was finally catching on, "- Yeah. Like what Mr. Clarke taught us."
"- The hive mind." Gracie stated, Dustin's idea taking full form in her mind as well.
"Exactly." Dustin agreed, pointing proudly at Gracie for her use of Dungeons and Dragons jargon.
"Hive mind?" Steve asked, turning to Gracie confused.
"A collective consciousness." Gracie explained, taking Dustin's handbook and turning to the page on the creature, "It's a super-organism. And this is the thing that controls everything. It's the brain. Like the mind flayer."
"The what?" Max further questioned, being one of the many around the table who didn't play the party's favorite past time.
"The Mind Flayer." Mike said flipping to the page on the monster, once again using Dustin's tactic of repeating the name as if it was an explanation.
"What the hell is that?" Hopper cut in, finally confused and irritated enough to say something.
"It's a monster from an unknown dimension." Lucas continued, "It's so ancient that it doesn't even know its true home."
As the table went silent, everyone but Mike, Gracie and Dustin still completely lost, Dustin sighed further explaining, "Okay, it enslaves races of other dimensions by taking over their brains using its highly-developed psionic powers."
"Oh, my God, none of this is real." Hopper groaned in complete despair and annoyance that he had allowed himself to listen to this for so long already, "This is a kids' game."
"No, it's a manual." Gracie replied, glaring at the older man, "And unless you have some better idea to explain all this, then let the kids keep talking." Gracie stated, giving Dustin a nod to continue.
Sending Gracie a thankful smile, Dustin turned back to the rest of the group. "Gracie's right. This is the best metaphor-"
"Analogy." Lucas corrected.
"Analogy?" Dustin repeated sending Lucas a deeply irritated glare, "That's what you're worried about? Fine. An analogy for understanding whatever the hell this is."
"Okay, so this mind flamer thing..." Hopper began only to be cut off by Dustin.
"Flayer. Mind Flayer."
Ignoring the boy, Hopper continued with his question but not without glaring at Dustin with his unneeded correction. "What does it want?"
"Like the Germans?" Steve asked, trying to analogize it in the most relatable way he could.
Dumbfounded, Dustin turned to Steve, correcting, "Uh, the Nazis?"
Blushing at his fuck up Steve quickly amended, "- Yeah, yeah, yeah, the Nazis."
Trying to make him feel slightly better, Gracie patted him on the shoulder, "If the Nazis were from another dimension, totally."
"Uh, it views other races, like us, as inferior to itself." Dustin continued trying to get back on track, "It wants to spread, take over other dimensions. We are talking about the destruction of our world as we know it."
"That's great. That's great. That's really great." Steve kept repeating, running his hand through his hair in distress at what Dustin just said, "Jesus!"
"Okay, so if this thing is like a brain that's controlling everything, then if we kill it..." Nancy trailed off, looking to Dustin to finish her thought.
"We kill everything it controls." Dustin confirmed, "We win. Theoretically."
"Great. So how do you kill this thing?" Hopper asked. Gracie was surprised the man was still listening to the conversation given his disinterest before. "Shoot it with Fireballs or something?" He half sarcastically suggested.
"No. No, no Fire... No Fireballs." Dustin laughed, as if it was ridiculous but only earning a glare from Hopper. Sobering up, Dustin clearing his throats, "Uh, you summon an undead army, uh, because... ...because zombies, you know, they don't have brains, and the mind flayer, it... it... It likes brains." He trailed off, Gracie wincing at his answer which just like she thought wouldn't be well received by the head sheriff.
"It's just a game. It's a game!" Hopper exclaimed angrily, "What the hell are we doing here?"
"I thought we were waiting for your military backup." Mike shot back glaring at the man.
"We are!" Hopper yelled.
"How are they gonna stop this?" Mike asked, matching Hopper's frustration and annoyance, "You can't just shoot this with guns!"
"We know it's already killed everybody in that lab." Gracie shot back, siding with Mike, "We know the monsters are gonna molt again. We know that it's only a matter of time before those tunnels reach this town. And I personally know that these kids are usually right on the money."
"They're right."
At these two words, everyone turned to Joyce, all giving her pitiful and sad eyes at her obviously grieving figure.,
"We have to kill it." Joyce said before repeating it with even more determination, "I want to kill it."
"Me, too." Hopper replied in a much softer tone than he was just using to address the kids, "Me, too, Joyce, okay? But how do we do that? We don't exactly know what we're dealing with here."
"No. But he does." Mike pointed out turning to Will who was still passed out on the couch, "If anyone knows how to destroy this thing, it's Will. He's connected to it. He'll know its weakness."
"I thought we couldn't trust him anymore." Max argued, "That he's a spy for the mind flayer now."
"Yeah, but he can't spy if he doesn't know where he is." Gracie added thoughtfully, looking at everyone who were left confused. "Guys I have a plan... but its going to take some work... and a shit ton of cardboard and duct tape."
----------
"You weren't kidding." Steve laughed, "This is a lot of duct tape." He said as both him and Gracie patched up the shed. Hoping to cover the wooden room with cardboard, paper, and tape, the hope was that Will be able to talk to them without the mind flayer knowing where they were.
As Gracie taped another piece of newspaper to the ceiling, she turned back to Steve, "This better work."
"It's definitely a hell lot better than our plan to kill Dart." Steve shrugged, as the two shuddered at their near death experience in the death yard.
"I think that any plan is better than that shit show." Gracie replied, the both laughing.
"I'm still comprehending that just happened." Steve sighed shaking his head, "Like holy shit we almost died."
Climbing down the latter, Gracie turned to the boy with a smirk, "Jesus Harrington, you'd think that this was your first life ending experience."
"Second, and you know it." Steve playfully corrected with a pointed look, "Demogorgon with Nancy and Jonathan last year? Ring a bell?"
Pretending to think, Gracie shrugged. "Vaguely."
"Really?" Steve fakely asked as he walked towards the girl, "I sort of save their lives?"
"I could've sworn it was the other way around." Gracie joked, knowing that Steve had indeed saved both Nancy's and Jonathan's asses.
"Ha ha." Steve dryly fake laughed.
"Okay seriously though" Gracie said, actually curious, "What was scarier, the junkyard or last year?"
"Last year for sure. That Demogorgan was like three times the size of those dogs." Steve said without a second thought. Thinking for a second, he added on,"I mean, I think those kids are more a headache than the monsters though."
"Oh definitely. They're all shit heads." Gracie agreed with a laugh, "It might not seem like it, but they like you Harrington."
Looking at her in surprise, Steve asked with an unbelievable tone, "Really?"
"Definitely." Gracie assured. "You should see how they treat people they don't like. Like Keith from the arcade."
Before Steve could respond, the two were suddenly interrupted by a large clatter and hushed whispers.
"Damn it Dustin." Lucas murmured at the boy who had slightly tripped and rammed into the wall for support. as both Steve and Gracie snapped their heads at the noise.
"You're the one that pushed me over!" Dustin argued, as him, Max, Lucas, and Mike all looked up at the two teens knowing they had been caught eavesdropping.
Gracie moved towards the door raising her eyebrow, "I thought I told you guys to stay inside" She said, orders Hopper given her. His exact words were "keep them in, those kids will fuck everything up". While Gracie thought it was slightly dramatic, she did see the sheriff's point and so to the kid's dismay Gracie did comply with Hopper's demands. Or at least she thought she did.
"We just wanted to see the interrogation space!" Mike explained.
"It's so boring in the house." Max groaned, as Gracie just rolled her eyes as the four all continued to try and explain themselves for disobeying rules per usual.
Sighing, Gracie turned to Steve, "Can you finish the rest?" Gracie asked to which Steve just nodded before getting back to work. Turning back to the kids Gracie began herding them away from the shed and back to the house. "Lets go back inside before Hopper sees you guys out here and kills all of us."
As the five walked through the backyard, Gracie asked, "So how long were you guys eavesdropping for?"
"Well we weren't trying to eavesdrop." Mike defended, "But we were just waiting for you guys to leave and then we could go and see."
"But you guys seemed... busy." Max trailed off. Looking down at the kids, Gracie realized all of them were wearing the most shit eating grins as if they knew something she didn't.
"We weren't busy!" Gracie scoffed, "We were just talking!"
"Oh Steve, you the party lovvveees you. I lovveee you." Lucas mimicked in a high pitch voice that made Gracie go red and the other kids begin to laugh.
"Thanks Gracie, you're the best!" Dustin replied to Lucas, joining in on the act.
Lightly slapping Dustin's head, Gracie exclaimed, "I did not say that! And I do not sound like that!"
"Uh, yeah you do." Mike sassily argued, not even trying to contain his laugh.
"I'll have you remember that's your sister's boyfriend." Gracie said narrowing her eyes at Mike.
"Not for long." He shot back doubling the sass that had Gracie widening her eyes at the boy's bold statement.
"You can't say shit like that!" Gracie reprimanded, her ears still ringing with the kids laughter.
"She's my sister so actually I can." Mike shot back, making Gracie roll her eyes at him. Gracie always knew that Dustin might have had the sharpest tongue but it was Mike that was the sassiest.
"Guys is it just me or are Jonathan and Nancy acting weird now." Dustin added, earning murmurs of agreement from the rest of the kids.
Even though Gracie couldn't help but reach the same conclusion as the rest, she was still surprised that they had picked up on that. The group wasn't really known for their ability to pick up on social cues. They really were growing up and in some weird twisted way that tugged on her heart a bit.
Still, this was no moment to give the kids a compliment on their emotional awareness after they just teased the hell out of her her. So instead, Gracie rolled her eyes at their antics and opened the backdoor, the kids begrudgingly going back into the house. "All right, I'm glad you shitheads had a laugh but get your asses back inside."
While it was at her expense, Gracie truly was glad the kids for at least five minutes was able to forget about everything else. But reality truly couldn't be ignored any longer, and as Gracie closed the back door and walked into the kitchen, she couldn't help but peer into the living room where Will was still unconscious on the couch, and her heart dropped in her stomach once again.
--------
"Well congratulations shitheads." Gracie announced as she came back into the living room from the shed. It had been about thirty minutes since Gracie had found and forced the kids back inside the house. The shed was finished and, originally, the plan was that she could stay and be with Will when he woke up. Hopper had other plans.
"Hopper saw you guys escape to the back and as punishment he's banished me to the house too." She sighed, plopping onto the couch next to Dustin.
"Join the club." He replied without remorse, making Gracie narrow her eyes at him. To be quite honest she wasn't actually mad at the party. She was more just wound up because of the entire situation. She was nervous that Will would figure out where they were and send the demodogs to kill them. On top of that, she was equally worried for Will's wellbeing as a whole.
It seemed all everyone in the house felt that way, Nancy, Steve, and all the kids as well. Staring up at the ceiling it felt months were passing by as Gracie's heart began to beat faster and faster. It was almost an out of body experience the anxiety that was flowing through her body.
"Fuck." Gracie cursed for the sake of cursing, standing up from the couch. Looking around the room, her eyes landed on Mike, who was sitting at the kitchen table, arms and head lying on the surface.
Walking up to him, Gracie put a hand on his shoulder before taking the seat next to him. Catching the boy's attention, the boy sat up properly, with the same anxious expression that Gracie knew she was wearing herself.
"You wanna talk about it?" Gracie asked softly, sending the boy a soft smile. She didn't even both with the "are you okay?" bullshit because she knew he wasn't. At this moment, none of them were.
Sighing, Mike shrugged, "It's just, I wish if Eleven was here because then... then-"
"She could fix all of this?" Gracie finished as Mike nodded sadly. "I wish she was here too." Gracie sighed, the grief overcoming her all too familiar.
She'd be lying if she too hadn't thought in the past 24 hours how much easier things would be if Eleven was here, but she refused to think of the what ifs instead of the harsh reality of things. She always thought about Eleven, where she was, if she was dead. Gracie always had the lingering suspicion that there was something right under her nose, but she refused to let herself fall down a rabbit hole. She'd seen Mike attempt to contact El multiple times through his super com, and Gracie felt that if she admitted anything other than that the girl was gone forever, it would feed into something that would have been unhealthy for the boy.
"We have to be brave like she was." Gracie softly told Mike, placing a hand on his shoulder, "Like she'd want us to be."
Mike smiled back at Gracie, and the two stayed sat in silence, as did the rest of the house. Perhaps they were all paralyzed by the fear that Will would send the demodogs upon them and in Lucas' words "Judgement Day" would occur. But Mike's and Gracie's silence had a little more to it than that. Their silence was shared comfort and grief over their lost friend.
Suddenly, the back door swung open causing everyone to snap their head at Hopper rapidly approaching along with Joyce and Jonathan, who were previously all in the shed as well.
"What happened?" Dustin asked, everyone gathering around the table around Hopper.
"I think he's talking, just not with words." Hopper explained, unraveling the piece of paper in his hands that had a familiar code that Gracie could always recognize. She remembered when the party had first introduced her to morse code a couple years ago. Before, she had called them nerds for it, but now she couldn't help but admit that it was sort of cool.
Steve however, was still very much confused. "What is that?"
"Morse code." The entire party responded at once.
Taking a closer look at the paper, Gracie began to spell it out. "H-E-R-E. Here."
"Will's still in there." Mike breathed out in relief, "He's talking to us."
As they looked around in realization, there was slight rejoice that the plan had worked. But mainly, a sense of determination entered the room.
---------
Quickly, everyone had gotten to work, the same people heading back to the shed except this time, Mike with an intercom in hand.
As Gracie, Lucas, Steve, Nancy, Dustin, and Max gathered around the table, Gracie had a pen in hand with the children looked over the morse code translation book.
"Dash, dot, dash, dot." Dustin repeated from what he heard on the intercom.
"Yeah, got it." Gracie nodded, quickly jotting down the pattern. "C- L" Gracie began to decode, looking back and forth from the book to her paper.
"O" Max added, pointing to the letter in the book, "S."
"Oh E!" Gracie said recognizing this letter by memory.
"G- A." Lucas continued,
"- T. E." Dustin finished as Gracie dropped the pen to look at the finished message.
"Close gate." Everyone said out loud, only slightly confused. For a second, the six stared silently at their decoded work, but only for a second because the phone then began to ring. Loudly.
At once, everyone jumped to turn off the phone in fear it would alert Will to where they were. "Shit. shit." Dustin cursed, banging the phone against the receiver. Seeing Dustin's struggle, Gracie quickly pushed Dustin aside. Ripping the phone off the wall and tossing it on the floor, Gracie stopped the ringing.
Heart pounding, and breathing heavily, everyone stared in terror at the now broken phone. "Do you think he heard that?" Max asked with a hint of fear.
"It's just a phone." Dustin tried to justify, but he was sounding shaky himself, "It could be anywhere. Right?"
Instead of answering, Gracie gave Dustin her best reassuring expression but she was sure it just came off as nervous. From then, it could've been minutes or seconds but once again the door slammed open and this time, Gracie knew it wasn't for good news.
She was quickly reassured of her intuition when Jonathan carried her out Will, once again unconscious.
"They're coming!" Jonathan yelled, everyone already scrambling around the house in fear.
"Come on. We gotta go." Hopper ordered, "Hey. Hey, get away from the windows!" He yelled at the kids who had already scurried towards the window to look for the oncoming monster.
A screech was heard in the distance, making everyone jump out of their skin. "Holy shit." Gracie cursed in complete fear of what was about to happen. Her and Steve had already faced those demodogs once already and Gracie was not ready for a sequel so soon.
As Gracie looked onto Hopper who was trying to hand a bumbling Jonathan a gun, Nancy quickly stepped in, taking the gun from Hopper instead.
Quickly seeing everyone gear up with weapons, Gracie suddenly realized she didn't have hers. "Shit where is my-"
"Here." Steve cut in, Gracie's bat in hand. Looking up at him in gratefulness, there was no time for any of that. Gracie quickly took the bat and the two went to gather the kids.
"Stay behind us" both older teens ordered at the same time. The group quickly complied, huddling behind Gracie and Steve.
Time didn't seem to move but the screeches and growls did grow louder. Gracie knew that they were close, as did everyone else. As they all held their weapons at the ready, breathing heavily and eyes moving around crazily to assess any sort of threat, the noises of the demodogs only continued to grow.
"Where are they?" Jonathan asked in horror, everyone confused as to why they could hear the dogs so clearly yet none have entered the house, "What are they doing?"
"Come on assholes!" Gracie yelled, her heart pounding but her bat held high.
The snarling increased and Gracie was sure that one of them was about to ram through the door, if not multiple. Technically, Gracie wasn't wrong.
A demodog rammed into the window, glass shards scattering the floor. Except, it was very, very dead.
"Holy shit."
"Is it dead?"
As everyone looked in shock at the dead demodog, they all slowly huddled around it, Hopper using the gun to jab at it.
"Definitely dead." Gracie concurred with a shaky voice, deeply confused but more fearful as to who killed it. Then, the door's lock moved on its own.
Quickly, everyone got back into defense mode, looking fearfully at the door, which now begun to creak open. Gracie was sure, this was when they would all die. Whatever took out the demodog could surely take on all of them at once. Still, she wasn't willing to go down without a fight. Her and Steve quickly stood in front of the kids again, Gracie holding the bat above her shoulder in swinging position. The door creaked open some more, but this time a petite black boot stepped into the house. As the figure walked in, Gracie dropped her bat at the sight before her.
Gasps rang out around the room but Gracie wasn't paying attention to anything but who was in front of her.
"No fucking way." She whispered, her jaw dropping at the sight of the girl she and the the party found in the woods.
summary: Dart molted. Great. Now, Dustin, Steve, and Gracie really needed to find this thing before it's too late. Meanwhile, Steve and Gracie finally talk things out while they created a demodog boobytrap. Then, they were both used as human bait.
masterlist
"ARE YOU FUCKING WITH ME!?" Gracie shrieked in pure anger and shock as Dustin explained his predicament. Her, Steve, and Dustin were all still on their way to Dustin's house in Steve's BMW. Just like Gracie had warned Dustin against, he had kept his stupid "pet" and now he was on the loose after it ate his cat. Night had fallen quickly yet this car ride felt like hours had gone by.
"I said I was sorry!" Dustin exclaimed, knowing he was about to get his ass whooped.
"Oh sorry doesn't make up for even half of it!" Gracie argued, "I didn't think you would be that stupid to keep that thing!"
"It's not a thing!" Dustin replied back, "His name is Dart."
"I don't care what his name is!" Gracie spouted turning her head and narrowing her eyes at Dustin who was about to respond back but Steve beat him to it.
"Wait so let me get this straight." Steve cut in before they would start yelling again, "You found this slimy guy in the trash. It ate your cat, and so you locked it up in your underground shelter?"
"You forgot the part when he lied about having it in the first place." Gracie added on, shooting another death glare at Dustin from the from seat.
"Right." Steve curtly nodded, finally pulling up to Dustin's driveway, "Wait a sec. How big?" Steve asked, still slightly confused and obviously annoyed.
"First it was like that." Dustin demonstrated keeping his hands at a small width before widening them almost by twice, "Now he's like this."
"Jesus" Gracie sighed, rubbing her hands in her face as she slumped in her seat.
"I swear to God, man, it's just some little lizard, okay?" Steve argued, turning left onto the street that lead to the woods.
"- It's not a lizard." Gracie stepped in unfortunately knowing for a fact that it wasn't. If Will said it was from the upside down, Gracie trusted the poor boy.
"- How do you know?" Steve asked, raising his voice a bit in irritation at the girl's denial. This seemed extremely far reached for him. Clearly, he wasn't familiar with what Gracie considered now only ordinary.
"How do I know it's not?" Gracie mockingly asked, raising her voice to match Steve's annoyance.
"Yeah, how do you know it's not just a lizard?" Steve repeated as if it were obvious, the two sounding like a couple of bickering children at this point.
"Because his face opened up and my ate my cat." Dustin jumped in, feeling an ongoing fight. Steve's car jerk slightly left as he let go of the steering wheel in shock. The older boy went silent, knowing he had lost the battle of Dart being simply a lizard.
"So definitely not a lizard then." Gracie sighed, as the three finally pulled up to Dustin's house.
As Steve exited the car to grab his bat, closing the door, Gracie turned to look at Dustin one more time who was unplugging his seat belt, "Don't think we're done with this conversation." Gracie said, "The only thing saving you from me beating your ass is in memory of Mews."
"She'll be dearly remembered." Dustin sighed half in mourning and half in relief that he survived Gracie's wrath. As the two exited the car, Dustin lead Steve and Gracie to his backyard where the underground shelter was. It was practically pitch dark and the walk to the storm cellar was about ten minutes, thankfully Steve had a flashlight in the trunk.
"He's in there." Dustin said, as the three stood above the wooden horizontal door.
As the three stayed silent for a second, Steve swung the pat over his shoulder, "I don't hear shit."
"Same." Gracie agreed, as Steve nudged the door with his bat before banging it a little harder the second time.
"He's in there." Dustin insisted, remember how he had lured it in with all of the packaged meat in his house.
Still not hearing anything, Steve turned to Dustin pointing the flashlight at his face, "All right, listen, kid. I swear, if this is some sort of Halloween prank, you're dead." Steve threatened, as Dustin squinted from the light.
"It's not a prank." Gracie sighed, wishing that it was.
Dustin gave Steve an I told you so look as he waved the flashlight away from him, "Get it out of my face."
Sighing, Steve moved the blinding light away from Dustin. "You got a key for this thing?"
As Dustin moved to open the cellar, Steve turned to Gracie, "He's gotta be shitting us Williams-"
"Oh don't under estimate him." Gracie cut off knowing that Dustin was telling the truth, "This is just the kind of stupid shit I expect all these kids to do."
Staring at Gracie, almost in shock at how quickly the girl believed the boy. Steve had always thought Gracie was just the slightest bit crazy, but he was now beginning to understand he was just new to the game. As Dustin opened the door to the cellar, Steve squatted down to point the flashlight at the descending stair case, nothing was to be found.
"He must be further down there." Dustin suggested, "...I'll stay up here in case he tries to escape."
As Steve and Gracie looked up at him incredulous at his willingness to let them risk their lives, he just gave them a sheepish smile backing up a bit more.
"Coward." Gracie said narrowing her eyes, although she knew that even if Dustin wanted to she wouldn't put him in danger like that anyways.
"Let's go Harrington." Gracie said, about to step down, before Steve stopped her, standing right in her way.
"Wait hold on, are you sure you want to go?" He asked, feeling it only chivalrous to not put Gracie's life in danger as well, "I just mean because I've dealt with this thing before, I can go down first-"
Rolling her eyes at his unnecessary heroic sacrifice, Gracie snatched the flashlight out of Steve's grasp, "You're not the only one who's fought these assholes before." She commented dryly before passing him to go down the staircase. She could picture it like it was yesterday when she voluntarily got chased by a Demogorgan last year at the middle school.
Standing still for a moment, Steve opened and closed his mouth unsure of what to say as Dustin just looked at him smirking.
"Are you just going to stand there or what?" Dustin asked the older boy who narrowed his eyes at Dustin before following Gracie down the steps. He should be used by now to the girl’s easy tongued insults but they never faltered render him speechless or irritated.
Quickly catching up with Gracie who was already at the bottom of the staircase, the two looked around at the empty cellar.
As they walked forward, Steve suddenly stopped causing Gracie to halt as well. Looking down, Gracie widened her eyes at the disgusting pile of slosh in front of her. Using his bat, Steve picked up what seemed like skin covered in goo, almost like an exoskeleton.
Gagging a little bit, Steve and Gracie turned to look at each other in fear and confusion of what they were seeing.
"Told you he wasn't lying." Gracie mumbled, the skin proof enough that something almost extraterrestrial was down here before them.
"You don't get paid enough for this shit." Steve whispered back to which Gracie nodded her head.
"Trust me, I know."
As the boy sighed, Dustin, who was on the edge of his seat hollered from above them, "You guys? What's going on down there?"
But the two didn't answer immediately, because Gracie had moved her flashlight slightly forward finding a gaping hole in the wall. Nudging Steve, the two looked at the gape in the wall in shock, knowing that not only was Dustin not lying but Dart had escaped.
"You guys!" Dustin yelled again, nervous from not hearing an answer the first time.
"Get down here." Steve yelled back, as both him and Gracie walked closer to the hole.
Hearing his rapid footsteps down the stairs, they could hear Dustin let out a string of curses as he discovered the Dart's escape route in the back of the cellar cellar, "Oh, shit. Oh, shit!"
Gracie didn't even bother to correct to correct Dustin because he was right, they were in a load of deep shit.
-------
It was basically morning by now but the three knew they didn't have time to rest. As soon as they had left Dustin's cellar they began to hatch a plan to capture Dart. After much arguing and planning the three had finally gathered their materials, mainly meat and another bat for Gracie, except they didn't have time to embellish it with nails like Steve's.
Loading up the car, both Gracie and Dustin's super coms began to pick up static. Taking his out, Dustin raising the antenna to be met with Lucas's voice, "This is Lucas. Do you copy? Dustin? Gracie?"
"Well, well, well, look who it is." Dustin said not even trying to hide his extreme annoyance, having not been able to reach anyone but Gracie yesterday.
"Sorry, man." Lucas apologized with a sigh, "My stupid sister turned it off."
"Sounds like Erica." Gracie sighed with an amused laugh, unable to ever hate the girl. She was extremely funny and probably the only person better than Gracie at putting Lucas in his place.
"Well, when you were having sister problems, Dart grew again, he escaped, and I'm pretty sure he's a baby Demogorgon." Dustin briefly explained to be met with the sputtering of confusion from Lucas.
"Wait. What?"
Knowing they didn't have time, Gracie took the super com from Dustin's hand, "We'll explain later, meet us and Steve at the old junkyard."
But she was only met by more questions from Lucas. "Steve? Steve Harrington?"
"No, Steve Martin." Gracie sarcastically replied but understanding Lucas' shock from Steve the Hair Harrington's assistance in their mission.
Closing the trunk both Dustin and Steve left to go inside the car. "All right, let's go." Steve announced, as he opened the driver's door.
Taking the cue, Gracie quickly ended her conversation with Lucas. "Just be there, stat. Over and out." She said but before she could close the antenna she cut off by Lucas.
"Wait Gracie!" Lucas frantically said, needing permission from her,
"Is it ok if I... bring Max with me?"
Silent for a bit, Gracie thought it over. "Well I'm assuming since you're asking that you've already told her everything."
"I would never!"
"-Lucas." Gracie cut off in a warning tone, hearing the pitch of his voice was enough to confirm her suspicions. Whenever Lucas lied he spoke in a quicker and far higher register.
"Fine I did." Lucas sighed, knowing he wasn't going to fool the girl. "But she doesn't believe me anyways. But I really think she could be apart of the party for real."
Gracie didn't hesitate in her reply. "Yeah, I do too." She admitted, having taken an extreme liking for the girl's courage and often harsh personality, "Look, if you can convince her to tag along with you to the crappy junkyard with you then I have no problem with it... but you should probably be prepared for some shit from Dustin though." Gracie warned, knowing both boys had a slight crush on Max.
"Right." Lucas sighed, seemingly forgetting about that part.
Before the conversation could continue Dustin stuck his head out from the window, "Gracie get your ass moving we don't have all day!"
"Got to go." Gracie told Lucas, "Oh and if you do go get Max avoid her brother at all costs. He's a grade A asshole." With that last piece of valuable advice she lowered the antenna, quickly getting into the passenger seat.
"What took you so long?" Steve asked, not in an annoyed tone but just out of curiosity.
Looking at the boy Gracie patted him on the shoulder. "Congrats Harrington, you've been upgraded from babysitter of one to babysitter of three."
Gracie laughed at Steve's groan while he started the engine. They were off to the junkyard.
---------
It had been about an hour since the three arrived in the woods, and the three were now following the abandoned railway track leaving a trail of meat towards the old junk yard.
"All right, so let me get this straight." Steve started out as he tossed out another piece of meat on the track, "You kept something you knew was probably dangerous in order to impress a girl who... who you just met?"
"All right, that's grossly oversimplifying things." Dustin argued shaking his head.
Shrugging, Gracie cut in, "Sounds about right to me."
As Dustin sent the girl a glare, Steve furthered his questioning. "I mean, why would a girl like some nasty slug anyway?"
"An inter dimensional slug?" Dustin questioned as if the adjective was important, "Because it's awesome."
"I beg to differ." To Gracie laughed, raising her head in defiance.
"Exactly." Steve said nodding in agreement with Gracie, "Well, even if she thought it was cool, which she didn't, I... I just... I don't know. I just feel like you're trying too hard."
"Well, not everyone can have your perfect hair, all right?" Dustin argued bitterly as he threw another piece of meat on the ground a bit more harshly.
"I wouldn't go so far to say perfect." Gracie dryly joked, unwilling to admit that Steve's hair was pretty nice to look at.
"It's not about the hair, man." Giving Gracie a quick glare, he shook her head, "The key with girls is just... just acting like you don't care."
"- Even if you do?" Dustin questioned, genuinely intaking Steve's advice.
"Yeah, exactly. It drives them nuts." Steve said with complete confidence that made Gracie scoff.
"Okay no. That's terrible advice." Gracie said trying to make sure her Dustin didn't get corrupted by the likes of Steve Harrington, "Girls like it when you show you care. Maybe not gifting them a slug, but your heart was in the right place." Gracie smiled patting Dustin on the shoulder.
"Gracie's not like other girls she's a lot more...unusual." Steve quickly assured Dustin, sending the girl a sarcastic smile, "Trust me. For the nice normal girl, they like my method."
"No, trust me Dustin." Gracie replied giving Steve the same sickeningly fake smile, "You don't want to attract the girls that usually go for Harrington... excluding Nancy of course." Gracie added, almost forgetting about the one counter example.
As the two glared at each other, Dustin turned to Steve, making Gracie huff slightly. "Then what?"
"You just wait until, uh... until you feel it." Steve replied, stumbling a bit on his answer after breaking eye contact with Gracie.
"Feel what?" Dustin asked confused.
"It's like before it's gonna storm, you know?" Steve said as if that made any sense, "You can't see it, but you can feel it, like this, uh... electricity, you know?"
"Oh, like in the electromagnetic field when the clouds in the atmosphere-" Dustin elaborated connecting it into terms he knew.
"No, no, no, no, no. Like a... Like a sexual electricity." Steve said making Gracie widened her eyes at the boy.
"No!" Gracie cut in, "No! Not like sexual energy! Not like that kind because he's only fourteen!" Gracie exclaimed sending Steve an exasperated glare as he mouthed sorry to the girl.
But the damage was already done. "Oh. You feel that and then you make your move." Dustin concluded, "So that's when you kiss her?"
"No!" Both Steve and Gracie exclaimed, finally on the same page
"No, whoa, whoa. Slow down, Romeo." Steve said, "Sure, okay, some girls, yeah, they want you to be aggressive. You know, strong, hot and heavy, like a...I don't know, like a lion."
Laughing at the boy's interesting metaphor, Gracie kept silent wanting to hear the rest of Steve's lecture.
"But others, you gotta be slow, you gotta be stealthy, like a... like a ninja."
"What type is Nancy?" Dustin asked as Gracie winced, unsure of how Steve was going to respond.
Shaking his head, Steve sighed, "Nancy's different. She's different than the other girls." Glancing at Steve, Gracie frowned as his distressed appearance. It definitely seemed that out of the two, Harrington was taking their fight a lot harder than Nancy, who genuinely seemed fine yesterday.
"Yeah, she seems pretty special, I guess." Dustin agreed, as the older girl hummed in agreement, "But this girl's special, too, you know." Dustin added on, Gracie knowing he was talking about Max, "It's just, like, something about her."
Just as Dustin was about to fall into a daydream, Steve suddenly stopped, causing both Gracie and Dustin to also suddenly halt. Turning to face Dustin, Steve furrowed his eyebrows, "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hey, hey, hey. You're not falling in love with this girl, are you?"
Blushing, Dustin shook his head surprised at the sudden question, as was Gracie. "Uh, no. No." Dustin confirmed.
Sighing in relief, Steve began walking again, "Okay, good. Don't. She's only gonna break your heart, and you're way too young for that shit."
At this, Gracie couldn't help but feel even more guilt seep through her. She supposed that she if anything she had enabled and looked over whatever it was going on between Nancy and Jonathan with little care of Steve's feelings. Maybe it was her own perception of him still being "King Steve" that allowed her to be so careless, but after this indirect admittance of how Nancy had broken his heart, Gracie couldn't do that anymore. It really hit her then that Steve truly loved Nancy.
Glancing, at Gracie, Steve could see she picked up on the meaning of his words, which really just flew out of his mouth before he could stop them. Feeling slightly embarrassed at his sudden vulnerability, Steve clear his throat. "Fabergé." He sighed making both Gracie and Dustin snap their eyes at his odd statement.
"What?" Both of them asked simultaneously.
"It's Fabergé Organics." Steve further explained, Gracie amused a bit at his slight embarrassed tone.
"Use the shampoo and conditioner, and when your hair's damp... not wet, okay?" Steve advised Dustin who was once again giving his full attention to Steve's hair tutorial, "And when it's damp. You do four puffs of the Farrah Fawcett spray."
"- Farrah Fawcett spray?" Dustin asked also laughing at the answer.
Widening her eyes, Gracie was brought back to previous conversations. Pointing her finger she exclaimed, "I knew it!" Her accusatory tone only making Steve roll his eyes knowing he'd finally been caught.
Rolling his eyes Steve nodded his head, "- Yeah, congrats Williams. It's Farrah Fawcett."
Pointing his finger at Dustin's face, he threatened, "You tell anyone I just told you that and your ass is grass. You're dead, Henderson. Do you understand?"
Nodding his head, Dustin took his threat seriously, "Yup."
Turning to Gracie, Steve knew that she would be the true issue if anyone were to open their mouths about his hair trick. "You too Williams."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Nothing I didn't already know." Gracie shrugged off completely unfazed.
Before Steve could say anything else to try to ensure Gracie doesn't tell, she nudged him on the shoulder, taking the opportunity to tease him even more, "Who would've guessed. Farrah Facet is Steve "The Hair" Harrington's secret."
Shrugging, Steve defended his secret, "I mean, she's hot."
Nodding her head, Gracie sarcastically reassured the boy, "Totally. I'm sure its every man's dream is to look just like her."
Rolling his eyes, Steve just huffed a laugh as the boy trying to hide his own smile, "Can it Williams."
Before the conversation could continue, they had mounted a hill right in front of the junkyard. Nodding his head with content, Steve announced, "Oh, yeah. Yeah, this will do. This will do just fine. Good call, dude." He said as Dustin grinned at the compliment.
As the three started working to set up their booby trap near the abandoned school bus it wasn't long before they heard another voice coming from up the near hill, "I said medium-well!" Lucas yelled with a smile as he watched the three throw raw meat on the ground. Next to him was unmistakably Max with her bright red hair and unimpressed facial expression.
"Who's that?" Steve asked, having never been formally introduced to most of the kids in fact.
"Our newest party member." Gracie replied with a grin that quickly faded when she looked at Dustin's disappointed expression. Gracie could tell he must not have liked how Lucas had been the only to bring Max into the group and not him.
Nudging the boy, Gracie suggested, "Maybe you should go talk with Lucas." Looking up at Gracie, Dustin nodded his head, and brought Lucas behind an abandoned car to talk.
As those two talked it out, Gracie immediately went to hug Max and reassure her that Lucas wasn't full of shit.
"I know it's hard to believe." Gracie admitted as the two helped board up the bus, "But everything Lucas told you is true."
"I mean, I'm still not 100% sure you guys aren't shitting me... but it is more reassuring coming from you." Max said, Gracie giving her an understandable smile.
"Being in the party means constantly questioning if things that seem impossible are actually happening. But if you do join us, we would love to have you."
Silent for a second, Max timidly asked, "Why are you being so nice to me about joining the group? I thought this is all top secret stuff and you... you hardly know me."
Gracie did understand why the girl was confused. Gracie had never told anyone about what happened last year let alone invite them to join the group. "I- I don't know. I just have a really good feeling about you Mad Max." Gracie smiled patting the girl on her shoulder, "Plus, I feel like you might need some family. And we might be unconventional, but that's what we are. A family."
As Max processed her words, Gracie could see that the girl understood and appreciated what she had said, more than Gracie would ever know actually. "Now come on", Gracie said as she grabbed another board, "Let's get this done before nighttime."
As the two continued to work, Gracie suddenly heard a loud bang from where Lucas and Dustin were talking behind the car.
Having slammed a slack of wood against the car to get the boy's attention Steve yelled at them, "Hey! Dickheads! How come the only one helping me out is this random girl and Williams? We lose light in 40 minutes. Let's go. Let's go, I said!"
As the two rolled their eyes but begrudgingly followed Steve back to the bus they didn't hold back how they felt about being interrupted.
"- All right, asshole!" Dustin yelled earning a glare from Steve, "God!"
"Okay! Stupid!" Lucas mumbled loudly, "Who does he think he is our babysitter?" He asked loudly to Dustin as the two approached the bus.
"He may not be but I am." Gracie said crossing her arms in front of the two boys, "You guys make up and everything?" She asked, as the two nodded their heads. "Good." Gracie smiled, slapping the two boys' shoulders, "Let's get back to work then. You may be onto something about Steve being an asshole but he's also right. We lose light soon and we've got a son of a bitch to catch."
----------
The sun had officially fallen and after hours of hard manual labor the five were putting the finishing touches on their trap.
Spreading the gasoline on the grass, Gracie and Steve had let the kids take a break and finish the job themselves.
"This thing better show up." Steve complained as he trailed the gasoline a safe distance away from the bus.
"It will." Gracie said in full confidence. Their group always had a knack for this stuff just appearing where they were, "It's gotta."
A bit perplexed at the girl's optimism, Steve just huffed a disbelieving laugh, "I still can't believe you do this kind of stuff like on a daily basis." He said, sure that if it were him he would've already moved out of Hawkins.
"Well not on everyday." Gracie argued, "It's more of a... seasonal thing. Most of the time its just playing board games and shit."
"Oh right." Steve remembered, "Dragons and Castles or some shit."
"Dungeons and Dragons." Gracie corrected having deja vu to their conversation last Christmas. It made Gracie feel sort of regretful that despite their promise to be better, nothing between them changed since then, even conversation topics. Emptying out the gasoline jug, Gracie looked at their work of a gas drenched field and boarded up bus, "I think we're done."
Looking around, Steve gave a nod of approval at their work, impressed at themselves. "Not bad."
Going to sit down on the hood of an abandoned car, the two stayed in silence, both a needing break after their long day of labour.
Looking up at the stars, Gracie realized she'd spent the entire day with Steve. A new record for sure. It felt weird having somewhat of a partner in this entire mess. When she had dealt with all of this last year, she'd done it all alone. Yes she had the party, but she was the one protecting them. No one was there to stand by her side when she was being chased by that demogorgon last year, or to comfort the kids when they thought Will died.
It wasn't as if she ever wanted someone by her side. And if you had asked her a couple days ago, she definitely wouldn't have wanted or even imagined it would be King Steve. But she couldn't help but find herself liking the company.
Clearing her throat, Gracie turned to her side to look at the boy, "I- thanks Harrington. It was cool of you to help us out." She said, her sincere genuity slightly shocking the boy.
Quickly recovering, Steve waved it off. "Oh yeah, don't mention it. I mean, it's not like I had anything better planned." He shrugged, frowning as he remembered his failed attempt to see Nancy earlier.
Catching his sudden change of mood, Gracie changed the subject. "Yeah, well thanks anyway. It's nice to have a friend through all of this."
This caught Steve off guard once more. "We're friends?" He asked, unable to hide his surprise.
Gracie took a moment of silence. She suppose that friends was a strong word to describe her and Steve's relationship. She didn't even know why she had said it, she never thought of him as one that's for sure. They barely even talked, and when they did there was an 80% chance they ended up fighting.
Sighing, Gracie shrugged. "I mean, not really. But we do smoke with each other a lot." Gracie offered, internally wincing at how stupid she sounded.
Laughing, Steve nodded his head. "True." Rubbing the back of his neck, Steve awkwardly admitted, "I just never really thought you'd even want to be my friend. You never seem to want to be around me if I'm being totally honest."
Silent for a second, Gracie couldn't deny it. Brought back to their conversation last Christmas and their promise to start over, Gracie knew that they both had fallen very short.
"Yeah well, I guess that's true." Gracie admitted, wincing at how harsh that sounded. Steve's slightly hurt face confirmed that.
"No I don't mean it like that." Gracie quickly corrected. Silent for a second, she kicked the dirt underneath her feet. "It's just been hard for me after everything last year. I fell sort of stuck there." Gracie shrugged, slightly not believing she was admitting this for the first time to Steve of all people. "And you were always just there telling Nancy to move on. I know you were just trying to help, and you weren't even talking to me. I guess I just got kinda mad at how easy you made it sound." Gracie finished, turning away from the boy to look up at the sky in embarrassment.
Steve felt a sudden guilt pour through him. Up to this point he'd still been so confused why Nancy called him "bullshit". He'd pushed Nancy's feelings to the curb and had gotten mad at Gracie when she couldn't move on either. He was stupid for thinking everyone could easily "pretend." He'd always thought the fact that Gracie seemed to have zero interest in talking with him after Christmas was soley her own fault and issues. But it stung to know it was both of theirs.
Geez, He really was an asshole.
"I had no idea." Steve guiltily admitted, "You're right. I just wanted to leave all of that shit behind but I should've known that its a hell of a lot harder for you both to move on than me. Barb was both both of your best friends." Steve continued, the girl looking up at the sky as she blinked back tears. "I'm really, really sorry Gracie."
Gracie didn't thinking hearing those words from the boy would mean so much to her. But it did. Looking back at him, she gave Steve a soft smile. "I'm sorry too Harrington."
"And about what you said earlier about us being friends... I'd uh-it would be nice I mean... if we were." Steve stuttered, cringing at how illiterate he sounded. He didn't know why he was getting so nervous. "Friends, I mean."
Nodding her head, Gracie felt her insides twist. "I'd like that a lot." She admitted. "I meant what I said at Christmas about us starting over too... even if it didn't seem like it."
"Well, we can start over now." Steve suggested, giving the girl a small smile.
Gracie returned the smile before letting out a laugh. "I kinda wish we could have started over without having to monster hunt."
Laughing, Steve shrugged, "I don't know Williams, it seems you only like doing shit that might kill you."
"You mean like smoking?" She scoffed.
"That too. Maybe its time we kick that bad habit." Steve suggested.
Shrugging, Gracie knew he was right. "Tell you what. If we survive this, we quit."
Raising his eyebrow amused, Steve asked, "And if we don't?"
Rolling her eyes, the girl answered like it was obvious. "Then we're dead dumbass. And we wouldn't be able to smoke anyways."
Opening his mouth, trying to come up with a reply, he came up short. Snorting at his silence, Gracie thought she could get used to this. "You're an idiot Harrington." She stated, making the boy glare at her. But for the first time in a while, it didn't hold any actual aggression, and his lips even twitched in a smile.
He could get used to this, Steve thought.
Before the conversation could continue any further they suddenly heard Lucas yell from his position from the top of the school bus. "I've got eyes!" He announced, still peering through his binoculars, "10 o clock 10 o clock!" At the mention of Dart finally arriving, Steve and Gracie immediately rushed into the school bus where Dustin was already peering through the bus window to see if his "pet" had come.
"Do you see him?" Steve asked, but before Dustin could answer a loud screech from right in front of them was heard, something that definitely didn't come from any known animal on Earth.
"I just heard him." Dustin answered, the three now peering out of the window all seeing the faint figure of Dart.
"Jesus" Gracie let out, having never seen anything like it before. It was almost like the Demogorgon that had almost eaten her last year, but it was smaller and walked on four legs. Like a dog version of it.
They waited for a second, hoping that the dog like alien would approach closer to their booby trap but no such luck. It almost looked like it was retreating instead.
"What's he doing?" Steve asked, as curious as Gracie as to why Dart had stopped in it's tracks.
"- I don't know." Dustin said, pressing his even closer to the gap between the boards to get a better look.
"He's not taking the bait. Why is he not taking the bait?" Steve asked once more getting anxious.
"Maybe he's not hungry?" Dustin suggested but the answer didn't satisfy Steve.
"Maybe he's sick of cow." He concluded making Gracie widen her eyes.
"That's a terrible idea!" She whispered exclaimed but it was too late, Steve was already up on his feet.
"Steve? Steve, what are you doing?" Dustin asked a bit more confused than Gracie.
Breathing heavily, Steve just turned to Dustin tossing him the match, "Just get ready."
"I'm going with you." Gracie said, standing up without a second thought. Yes, she thought it was a terrible idea but if he was gonna do it, there was no way in hell she was just going to wait in the bus and watch.
"No you're not-" Steve firmly whispered only to be unsurprisingly cut off by Gracie.
"Just shut up!" Gracie whisper argued grabbing her plain bat and tossing Steve's nail bat. "Let's go." She whispered, Steve knowing it was a lost cause and sighing in surrender as the two made their way out of the bus.
"See? I told you that you only like doing shit that might get you killed." He stated, feeling it necessary to prove his point.
"And who's idea was it to be live bait?" Gracie whispered back. She was met with a small snort, and Gracie knew she had won the battle.
"I guess we both have a death wish." Steve admitted.
"I think we're just fucking crazy. But yeah, sure." Gracie shrugged, "Let's call it a death wish."
As the two exited the bus, Max climbed down to see Dustin. "What are they doing?" She asked, unsure and very scared as to why the two teens had left the safety of the bus
"Expanding the menu." Dustin said neither of them taking their eyes off of Steve and Gracie who had made it to center of their boobytrap.
"They're insane." Max let out, sure it wasn't going to end well.
But Dustin had a different opinion looking at the two with deep reverence in his eyes and a proud smile, "They're awesome."
From outside the bus, Gracie wasn't about admit she was close to shitting her pants. But this wasn't the first time Gracie had been in a situation like this before and if she truly thought about it, this was just the Demogorgon she had almost been eaten by in the middle school before the party saved her ass but smaller. This calmed her nerves a bit.
"Come on, buddy." Steve cooed trying to lure the demodog, "Come on. Dinner time. Human tastes better than cat, I promise."
"I don't think these things speak english." Gracie whispered unsure of his tactics but Steve just ignored her.
Just then the demodog appeared out of the fog, about ten feet from Gracie and Steve.
"You were saying?" Steve whispered to Gracie, and Gracie would have rolled her eyes or said something witty back in response had it not been for the fact that her life was flashing before her eyes.
As the two rose their bats, waiting for the thing to attack, Lucas's voice was suddenly heard from atop the bus, still keeping watch out of the layout for the two.
"You guys, watch out!" Lucas exclaimed, but both Gracie and Steve refused to take their eyes off of what was right in front of them growling like it was ready to eat.
"A little busy here!" Steve yelled back raising his bat even further but Lucas wouldn't let up.
"Three o'clock! Three o'clock!" He repeated wildly. Taking a second to see what Lucas was on about, Gracie turned her head to the left letting out a string of curses that caught Steve's attention.
"Shit." Steve let out, noticing that they were surrounded by Dart's friends as well.
Just then, Dart finally had enough running straight towards Gracie and Steve with a screech.
Immediately, Steve swung his bat at the thing, but the others had taken Dart's attack as a cue and soon enough all of them were trying to chase them down. Forced separate ways, Gracie hit one over the head and narrowly dodged another by rolling over the abandoned car her and Steve were at earlier.
In the clear for just a second, Gracie looked over to Steve who was fighting off one of them. And while he looked like he was going to win, it left him unaware of one who was waiting to pounce right behind him
Running as fast as she could, Gracie rapidly approached Steve yelling, "Steve watch out!" Looking up at Gracie, he turned around widening his eyes at the demodog that was in the air about to pounce on him. But in the nick of time, Gracie made it to Steve, swinging her bad ferociously at the thing's head and away from the two.
But the fight was far from over and the two knew they were outnumbered. Looking back at the bus, they saw the kids yelling at the top of their lungs to get back in the bus.
"Abort! Abort!"
"Steve run!"
"Run Gracie run!"
Without a moment's hesitation, Steve grabbed Gracie's hand before running as fast as he could to the bus. With demodogs hot on their tail, Gracie and Steve practically flung themselves through the bus door before the kids boarded it up again. Just as the kids blocked the front of the bus, the demodogs clambered against it making everyone yell in fright.
As Gracie and Steve caught their breath from almost dying, Steve looked at Gracie both breathing heavily, "Are you alright?"
He stared into Gracie's eyes, trying to communicate what they couldn't say out loud due to the fact they were both practically hyperventilating. He searched for any sign of how she was feeling, but found that she only reflected his own fearful expression. Steve squeezed her arm tightly, and Gracie began to feel herself calm a bit more in the boy's presence.
"You okay?" He asked again, with double the concern.
Gracie nodded her head rapidly before turning her head towards the kids who were all pushing their weight on the board that was blocking the entrance of the bus. "Are they rabid or something?" Max asked as the bus rocked back and forth crazily, the monsters trying their best to push themselves in. And they were close to succeeding.
Quickly springing into action, Gracie and Steve moved to hold the door down as well, the kids moving to the middle of the bus.
"They can't get in! They can't!" Lucas kept repeating but Gracie knew that was far from true.
As the monsters kept growling, Gracie and were still holding down the door, Gracie yelling, "Harrington put your back into it!"
"I am!" He yelled back pushing even harder against the blockade, everyone around them screaming in fear.
"Is anyone there? Mike? Will? God! Anyone!" Dustin yelled into the super com although it was doubtful that even if anyone heard they would be able to hear Dustin's pleas on top of all the screeching, "We're at the old junkyard, and we are going to die!"
The walls of the bus continued to bang as the Demodogs rammed their whole bodies against it and the screams only got louder and louder from everyone inside.
Suddenly, the pushes against the front door had stopped, and a silence settled over them. Then, a large jump was heard right on top of them
"Oh shit." Gracie cursed, gearing her eyes up towards the ceiling as she heard the footsteps rapidly approach the gaping hole on the top of the bus they had left open for Lucas to be able to scout from above.
"Oh shit." Gracie repeated but louder this time but was cut off by a loud scream from Max who was looking straight up at the hole where a monster was peering down letting out a loud screech.
As all four rushed to Max, Steve pushed everyone behind him, even Gracie. "Out of the way! Out of the way!" He yelled, holding his bat ready to swing, "You want some? Come get this!"
And just as the monster had opened his mouth letting out another terrible screech, ready to pounce on all of them, the thing suddenly stopped and looked up. As did the others. An eery silence came over the atmosphere and just like that the demodogs had left, all of them.
As the five caught their breath just as terrified as they were confused, they exited the bus once the screeches and growls had reached a far enough distance.
"Jeez. What happened?" Lucas asked just as confused as the rest who were all scanning their surroundings to see if there were any clues to their sudden disappearance.
"I don't know." Gracie replied, moving her head left and right to make sure they were safe.
"Steve scared 'em off?" Dustin suggested, but Steve shook his head unconvinced.
"No. No way. They're going somewhere."
Shaking her head, Gracie turned her head to the direction the screeches had disappeared. "They aren't just going somewhere. They're being summoned." Gracie stated as she realized what was near that neck of the woods. She had been there one too many times wether it was to be with Will for his "doctor" checkups or with Jonathan and Nancy to try and unmask the horrors that were covered up in that place.
Turning back to the group, Gracie had a look of fear and sureness of where the monsters had been summoned, "The Hawkins Laboratory."
steve harrington x gracie williams(eventually)
word count: 2.3k
summary: gracie's hunch was righ and dustin had kept his stupid pet. now, gracie, dustin, and suprisingly steve are on a monster hunt for the son of a bitch.
masterlist
AFTER A FAIRLY SHORT VISIT, DR. OWENS WAS DONE WITH THE THREE TEENS. Gracie, Nancy, and Jonathan had finally been released from the Hawkins Lab, being nicely escorted to their car. Gracie got in the back, while Nancy checked her side mirrors to see if anyone was still watching them. Even after, the three waited in silence for what felt like an extremely long time before Nancy took out the tape recorder she had hidden in her jacket, clicking it to rewind.
As the tape began to whirr, Dr. Owen's voice was clearly projected throughout the car, "Doesn't really matter. The point is, mistakes have been made...The men involved with those mistakes, the ones responsible for what happened to your brother and Miss Holland's
death, they're gone..."
Nancy rewinded again.
"The ones responsible for what happened to your brother and Miss Holland's death, they're gone."
The three stayed in silence at shock in the evidence they gathered on Barb's murders.
Rubbing his temple, Jonathan looked up to Nancy, "You still wanna do this?"
Looking up at him across the center console, Nancy immediately nodded her head. "Let's burn that lab to the ground."
Gracie liked the girl's attitude but being newly dragged into the plan, she was slightly confused. From her point of view, it seemed liked the two had just decided to drag her to third wheel the most dangerous date to ever exist. Scooting up a bit to lean on forward against the center console she sighed, "Well, can I just say that you two are bat shit crazy and you're lucky we didn't get ourselves killed."
Turning to Gracie, Nancy just laughed unfazed, "It worked didn't it? Plus don't act as if you haven't done crazier shit with my brother." Nancy argued with a pointed expression.
"Oh I never said that I didn't." Gracie quickly admitted. "But I just don't see what to do now. Whats the plan? No newspaper or radio in their right mind would take on whats basically a conspiracy theory."
As Jonathan and Nancy remained silent, Gracie took this as a hint that this was as far as they had thought out. As the three thought in silence, Gracie and Nancy suddenly looked at each other as if reading each other's minds. The only person crazy enough to take a tape like their's would be the person to have been crazy enough to take up Barbara's dead end case in the first place.
"What are the odds we're thinking the same thing." Nancy asked, wriggling her eyebrows.
Snorting, Gracie shrugged, "I'd say about... 100 percent?"
Looking back and forth between the two, Jonathan sighed, "You two really are perfect for each other. Just tell me where to drive."
--------
They were finally on the road, and the plan was only continuing to grow. "Okay so we take the tape to Murray and hopefully he'll help us get it out somehow." Nancy began, the three working to solve the logistics of their little roadtrip.
"Why does he have to live so far away" Jonathan groaned as he took a left, earning nods of agreement from both Nancy and Gracie who was holding a map trying to figure out the fastest way to make it to Murray.
"We'll have to get a hotel for tonight." Gracie added, noting there was no way they could make the trip in one day as she looked at the map.
"Then we'll tell each others moms we're staying at each others places." Nancy suggested, determination sparking in her eyes.
"Okay and-" But before Gracie could continue static began to pick up on her walkie talkie. Handing Nancy the map, Gracie grabbed the machine out of her bag extending the wire.
"Hello? I copy." Gracie announced being immediately met with Dustin's alarmed voice.
"Gracie? Gracie is that you? Oh thank god!" Dustin yelled Gracie wincing and taking the walkie talkie further from her ear at the sheer volume of Dustin's voice. His gratefulness quickly soured into irritation. "Where the hell have you been! I've been calling for hours!"
"Well whatever, just get your ass over here pronto!" Dustin demanded, "Its a code red!"
"I can't!" Gracie exclaimed, "I'm gonna be... M.I.A for a bit."
"M.I.A?" Dustin repeated in shock, "M.I.A?"
"Yes!" Gracie said exasperated, "I'm sure whatever it is you can handle."
"No!" Dustin argued, "I actually really can't."
Looking nervously at Jonathan and Nancy who were unashamedly eavesdropping, Gracie repeated, "Well you're really just gonna have to-"
"Gracie!" Dustin cut off, "Look, I- I don't know how to say this but something ate my cat!"
"What?" Gracie asked in shock as Nancy and Jonathan turned around also confused at the boy's odd statement.
"Hey eyes on the road Byers." Gracie reprimanded, turning her attention to Dustin who seemed on edge of a panic attack.
"Did he just say something ate his cat?" Nancy asked out loud, but Gracie just waved it off.
"He says crazy shit all the time. Ignore him."
"I heard that." Dustin announced, making Gracie roll her eyes, "And I'm being very, very serious."
"Dustin I can't-"
"Gracie please." Dustin pleaded, desperate for some help with his cat killer.
Silent for a second, Gracie sighed. "Where are you dipshit?"
Sighing, relief, Dustin quickly answered. "Mike's house I'm going over to look for him." Dustin said as Gracie rubbed her temple unsure if she even wanted to know who or what him was.
"Ok I'll be there as soon as I can."
"Thank you thank you thank you thank you-"
Cutting off his repetitive thanks, Gracie shut the antenna, before looking sheepishly at Nancy and Jonathan. Before even saying any apologies or reasonings, Jonathan began turning the wheel to make a U-turn "Already heading back to Hawkins." He said without turning his head.
Smiling thankfully, Gracie sighed, "Sorry."
Turning to look at her Nancy smiled, "We get it. Its your job. You get paid good money to take care of our shithead siblings." She joked, earning laughs from everyone, "Besides, we got this." Nancy assured, giving a smile to Jonathan.
"Oh I have no doubt." Gracie quickly agreed, nodding her head. The two really were a great team, if only they realized it. But, something told Gracie they actually did.
--------
Having dropped Gracie slightly down the road from Mike's house in order to avoid any questions or possible parents, the girl made her way down the street with slight urgency wondering what Dustin meant by something ate his cat. Her working theory was that it was a metaphor or something, english never really was his strong suit, the entire party being more of math and science nerds.
Before Gracie could question anything further, she had reached Dustin's front yard, but stopped in her tracks at the easily recognizable car in front of their house. Stepping out of his BMW, Steve was holding a bouquet of roses seemingly practicing a speech to himself.
"Listen... I've been thinking... I love you. I'm sorry. I'm sorry? What the hell am I sorry for?"
"Steve?" Gracie asked, letting her presence be known to the boy who looked more than nervous.
Snapping his head to the side at the sudden voice, Steve relaxed when he saw Gracie. "Oh hey." Steve said a bit embarrassed at the extremely large bouquet he was holding, "You here for Nancy too?"
Looking down at the flowers in his hand, Gracie couldn't help but feel bad for Steve, whose girlfriend was about to spend the next forty eight hours with another man. Then again, it was unclear to Gracie whether or not Steve and Nancy were still a thing, but given the fat bouquet he brought she assumed it was one of Steve's top priorities to make sure they still were.
"No, uh, Dustin asked me to meet him here." Gracie clarified.
"Who?" Steve asked, unsure of who it was. He thought maybe it was her boyfriend, but that didn't seem right as Gracie didn't seem like the type to really have one of those. Plus, Nancy would have definitely mentioned it to him.
"You know." Gracie shrugged, "Tiny boy, curly hair, friends with Mike Wheeler." Gracie described, knowing that it was anything but helpful.
Thinking back, Steve nodded in recognition, as one of the boys that Gracie babysat, "Oh yeah, the one that's always cursing." Steve replied.
"Right..." Gracie nodded awkwardly, knowing that that held true for all the boys she babysat except for Will. "And also Nancy isn't here so..." She trailed off, unsure of what to say next. It was extremely uncomfortable for Gracie to see Steve here to apologize to Nancy for something that arguably wasn't quite his fault.
Gracie hoped that Steve wouldn't ask anymore questions, but she should've known better than to be so hopeful. Of course, Steve had a suspicion of who she was with.
"Is she with Jonathan?" Steve asked, slightly stumbling as he did so.
Tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, Gracie's pitiful look was all Steve needed as confirmation.
Seeing him frown, Gracie felt compelled to say something but wasn't even able to respond before Dustin had suddenly popped up out of what seemed nowhere quickly making his presence known.
"Finally!" Dustin exclaimed going to stand right in between Gracie and Steve, panting as if he had just ran a marathon. "Son of a bitch you took your time." Dustin exclaimed, crossing his arms at Gracie.
"Well, you got me at a bad time." Gracie replied, deciding not to mention her adventure with Nancy and Jonathan in front of Steve to hurt the boy anymore.
"Yeah whatever." Dustin said, who despite being extremely relieved to see Gracie was on a time crunch, "Come we got to go." Dustin said, moving past the two onto the street before turning back, "Hold up wheres your damn car?"
"I got dropped off!" Gracie exclaimed bouncing her back and forth between Steve and Dustin, "And plus I don't drive remember?"
"Wait, why not?" Steve asked, remembering when the girl excitedly announced it by grabbing Nancy by the shoulders and away from Steve's arms the day she got her driver's license.
Gracie waved him off, "Long story."
Rubbing his temples, Dustin broke apart their little chat in exasperation, "Son of a bitch we don't have time for this!"
Snapping her head towards Dustin, Gracie narrowed her eyes "Language Henderson."
Ignoring her non threatening warning, Dustin finally acknowledged Steve's presence looking at the bouquet in his hand.
"Are those for Mr. or Mrs. Wheeler?" He asked quickly, everyone knowing that they weren't.
"No." Steve replied.
“Are they for Gracie?” Dustin further asked, to which both of them widened their eyes the idea of Steve bringing flowers for Gracie.
“No!” They both exclaimed, Gracie blushing a bit more than she should, but only out of pure embarrassment.
"Good." Dustin said before quickly approaching the boy snatching the flowers out of his hand.
"Hey. What the hell?" Steve exclaimed at the boy who had turned his back and began walking towards the older boy's car.
"Nancy isn't home." Dustin replied, as the two teens began to follow him still unsure of what had him so wound up.
"Yeah, I got that already." Steve sighed defeatedly, "Where exactly is she?" Steve asked Gracie, who opened her mouth but was thankfully cut off by Dustin.
"Doesn't matter. We have bigger problems than your love life. We need to get to my house and Gracie is too much of a pussy to drive."
"Dustin come on, let's just bike." Gracie suggested, feeling bad to rope Steve into something he probably didn't want to be apart of. Maybe if Nancy were here, but why would he join in on a potentially dangerous adventure with a kid he didn't know and a girl he barely tolerated? Besides, its not like Gracie particularly cared for or enjoyed his company anyways.
"We don't have time for that!" Dustin yelled exasperated, his urgency freaking Gracie out a bit. She still had no idea what it is that had the boy so worked up. "We need a car. And more importantly, we need a driver." Dustin stated definitively as he pointed towards Steve who was, if anything, even more confused than Gracie.
Looking at Gracie for some sort of help on understanding Steve asked, "You know what's up his ass?"
Gracie shook her head. At the sound of loud slam, Gracie and Steve turned around to see Dustin already shoving his bike into the back of Steve's BMW. "Hurry up!" Dustin yelled again, "Now!"
As Dustin continued to let out strings of curses, Gracie turned back to Steve. "You don't have to do this Harrington." She assured, knowing for him, this was completely voluntary. Unfortunately for Gracie, it was her job. "I've been doing this myself for sometime."
Quiet for a moment, Steve thought over his options. It wasn't like he had anything better to do. Besides, he didn't like the idea of Gracie being the only one there if this was actually something dangerous. Shaking his head he shrugged. "No it's fine. Let's just get this over with."
With that, he walked over to the car, and Gracie followed behind him. To be honest, she was slightly surprised he said yes. She wasn't sure if she would have if she was in his position.
As they got into the car, Dustin suddenly asked, "Do you still have that bat?" He asked, turning to Steve who was still frozen in shock and confusion while Gracie eyed Dustin suspiciously, extremely wary as to why weapons were needed. She supposed she should have known.
"- Bat? What bat?" Steve asked forrowing his eyebrows.
"The one with the nails?" Gracie described as if it was obvious.
"- Why?" Steve asked again only to be met with Dustin's panicked expression. He really needed to get back to the house asap.
"I'll explain it on the way."
"Now?"
"Now!" Dustin and Gracie both exclaimed, Steve quickly but begrudgingly getting in the car before zooming towards Dustin’s house.
"If you find yourself out, if there is a right time
Chances are I'll be here, we could share a lifeline" - Gracie Abrams
Series: the secret of us masterlist
Steve Harrington x Henderson! Original Female Character (Maia Henderson)
Summary: Three years after helping save the world from an inter-dimensional monster, Maia Henderson returns to Hawkins for Jonathan's and Nancy's wedding. She's forced to confront her own past, and specifically, Steve Harrington. The boy who irrevocably stole then promptly shattered her heart all those years ago. She's definitely not ready to face everything him again, but unfortunately, she was going to do it anyways. Would it be so bad to say she'd rather be fighting demogorgans than speak to him ever again?
Warnings: Cursing? None really, just a really slow burn for those who like to torture themselves.
Word Count: 2.9k
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It wasn't long before the rehearsal dinner was in full swing. Everybody gathered in Jim and Joyce's spacious backyard, where a beautifully decorated table was set up for the occasion. While the party prepared dinner, insisting their service to be the couple's wedding gift, the rest of the group spread across the backyard, enjoying the nice weather and joyous occasion.
Maia found herself with Nancy and Jonathan, talking about the impending wedding. As Jonathan's best woman, Maia took it upon herself to plan his bachelor party from New York. Except, given the fact that Jonathan, one of the most reserved and introverted people she knew, she planned more of a friendly gathering than a typical bachelor experience.
"Trust me." Maia assured, "Tomorrow night is going to be, in Eleven's words, Bitchin'. I have everything planned out."
"I wish I could say the same for Robin." Nancy chuckled as she shook her head, "I'm seventy percent sure she doesn't even know where we're going tomorrow for my bachelorette party."
They laughed, knowing very well of Robin's go with the flow mentality. "To be honest, I'm surprised you chose her as your maid of honor." Jonathan admitted, "She doesn't seem like to type to plan.. anything out really."
"She's not." Nancy shrugged, "But at least she makes wedding planning fun, which I appreciate."
"You guys always did make a great team." Maia added, thinking back to when they visited the local asylum to meet Victor Creel. "If you guys can break into a mental hospital together, then wedding planning should be a no brainer."
"My thoughts exactly." Nancy jokingly agreed.
"Who are your other bridesmaids?" Maia asked.
"Oh um, Holly, Max, and Eleven... and I'm just realizing all of my bridesmaids are a bunch of children." Nancy said, laughing to herself.
"At least they act like adults." Jonathan countered, "I'm pretty sure Holly is more mature than Eddie or Steve."
At the mere mention of Steve's name, Maia momentarily freezed, something that Jonathan and Nancy noticed but didn't say anything of. She quickly played it off though, asking, "Speaking of Eddie, where is he?"
"He couldn't make it tonight." Jonathan replied with a sigh, "It's his Uncle's birthday. But he'll be at the bachelor party tomorrow."
Smiling, Maia nodded her head. "I'm excited to see him again. I've missed that metal head."
Maia would be lying to say that her and Eddie immediately hit it off when they first met. Well, that was a lie. They had met more than a few times whenever Eddie... dealt to Maia, but they were never anything more than acquaintances.
So could one really blame Maia of not loving the idea that her super senior dealer was hanging out with her precious little brother? Of course, when Eddie was framed with Chrissy's murder, Maia was immediately roped in by her brother to help out his newfound mentor. And it wasn't long before Eddie won Maia over with his undeniable charisma, sharp wit, and most of all, genuine care for Dustin.
Maia had grown so fond of him that she found herself risking her life to save him from a swarm of killer bats later near the end of their escapade to the upside down. That little selfless act landed her and Eddie almost a month in the hospital together. But in the process, they became close and true friends.
Before the conversation could continue, the kids came back out to the backyard with large platters of food in their hands. Everyone quickly came over to the packed table, and Maia took a seat between Dustin and Max. She had to say, she was impressed. The food looked surprisingly delicious considering the fact it was made from kids that used to only eat eggos and coca-cola doused popcorn.
Glancing up at the sound of clinking glass, Maia found Jonathan and Nancy standing above the table, ready to give a speech.
"Before we began, I'd just like to begin with a disclaimer that neither Jonathan and I are very good at speeches so bear with us." Nancy warned, making everyone laugh. "We just wanted to take the time to thank you guys for all being here with us to celebrate."
"It really does mean a lot to us." Jonathan continued. Pausing for a moment, Jonathan looked around the table, smiling at all the faces he saw. "After everything we've been through, we could've let the darkness consume us. But we didn't. And that's what this wedding means to me. All of us choosing to look at everything good that came out of this when we sure as hell have the right not to. Nance and I joke a lot about shared trauma, but the truth is I wouldn't trade it for anything. Because without it, I wouldn't be here, eating dinner with people I consider my family." Turning to Nancy who was already staring back at Jonathan with a look of complete love, Jonathan finished softly. "And most importantly, I wouldn't be here getting married to the woman I love."
Maia watched as the two stared at each other with the deepest admiration and love. Watching them share a quick peck, Maia confirmed what she always had known. Jonathan and Nancy, in every universe, belonged to each other. It was just a shame she had to be involved in the drama of it all to get them here.
Turning back to their waiting audience, Nancy concluded with a wide smile, "I had more to say but, I don't think anything tops that. So... we'll shut up, and let's eat!"
Applause broke out and Maia raised her glass. "To the happy couple." She announced, everyone raising their glasses in honor of Jonathan and Nancy too.
Quickly, the table filled with the chatter of endless topics. From the approaching senior prom, wedding plans, and Maia's time in New York, there was almost too much to talk about.
"Sweetheart do you live by yourself?" Joyce asked, her maternal instincts kicking in at the thought of Maia all alone in the big city.
Maia shook her head. "No, no I have two roommates."
"Bryan and Monica right?" Jonathan chimed in, having heard Maia talk about them before. Maia considered them two of a close circle of friends she had in New York. Of course, every friendship failed in comparison to the unbreakable bonds she made in Hawkins. But still, her city friendships were light, new, and refreshing, something that Maia truly was deprived of.
"You... live with a boy?" Eleven asked, as her and Max cringed in disgust.
"Gross." Max said with a pretend gag that had Lucas looking at her all offended.
Rolling her eyes, Maia replied, "It isn't gross. Bryan's a nice guy."
"Are you dating?" Will asked curiously, making one person in particular freeze. Robin kicked Steve under the table, trying to telepathically communicate for him not to be awkward.
Thankfully, Maia was oblivious. Laughing, she shook her head. "Definitely not. I'm actually one hundred percent sure he plays for the other team."
"But I mean big city right?" Murray said, wriggling his eyebrows in the same instigating manner he used on daily basis, "Lots more options than Hawkins, I mean you've got to be seeing someone."
Maia blushed. "I mean, yeah, just population wise I guess there's more options. But no, not at the moment"
"Wait aren't you seeing that one guy- what's his name? Jack?" Robin asked, her short term memory notoriously bad with names. Maia's cheeks turned red at the mention of her situationship whom she had met through her roommate Monica. But her and Jake were completely casual. Neither of them wanted anything more than what the other gave, and if anything, Maia just considered him a good friend. Of course, she didn't love the idea that her friends with benefits situation suddenly being a table wide discussion.
"Jake." the entire party dryly said at once, making Maia blush even harder. Last spring break, the kids had been unfortunate enough to surprise visit Maia on the day that Jake was over. And in their words, it left them more traumatized than when it happened with Steve. Maia, of course, took them all to the comic book store and then the movie theaters as both an apology and plea for their secrecy.
"Jake? I like him." Jonathan added as he took another bite of food. Jonathan liked to visit his long distance best friend whenever he could and had met him a few times.
Maia only rolled her eyes, pointing her fork at him accusingly, "You only like him because he shared his stash of purple palm tree delight with you."
"He's a man with good taste." Jonathan shrugged with a mouthful of food, earning an unserious swat from Nancy.
Laughing, Maia shook her head. "But no, he's not my boyfriend. We're just friends."
"You guys sure seemed friendly last spring break." Mike mumbled with a shit eating smirk that had Maia shriek his name in mortification and the rest of the table laughing. Maia was just thankful that Joyce and Hopper were too busy showing Mr. Clarke pictures of their new dog to hear the younger boy's crude comment.
After a bit, the table decided to give a tomato looking Maia a break from their relentless teasing, and moved on to talk about more wedding logistics. Leaning over the table to grab the champagne bottle, Maia did it before she realized, turning her head to the other side of the table where Steve was. Maia raised her eyebrow in suspicion as she saw him furiously picking at his food.
It dawned on Maia that he had gone radio silent the second her dating life was brought up and the thought of why made her stomach turn.
She had been so caught up in her own curiosity, she hadn't noticed Steve's awareness of her gaze until his own landed right on hers. He wore an indecipherable look in his eye that made Maia immediately grab the champagne bottle and take a seat. She poured herself another glass of champagne, an extra large one.
Maia was confused now, to say the least. Just a single glance and her mind was already spinning in a hundred different directions. Why was he looking at her like that? Was he still looking at her? Maia itched to turn around and check but resisted the urge like her life depended on it. It sort of felt like it did. She knew she was over reacting, and if anything, her brain was working over time to concoct the most preposterous ideas about how Steve even cared about who she slept with.
He left you.
A voice reminded her. So why do you care if he was looking at you? It made her feel stupid. It had been three fucking years and he managed to make if feel like they had broken up yesterday with a single glance. It was so, so idiotic, and even another swig of alcohol couldn't cure the growing pit in her stomach. Still, it was worth a shot to drink the feeling away.
Reaching for the champagne bottle again, Maia frowned when she noticed the bottle was completely empty, of no fault to Maia, of course. Nancy, seeing Maia's disappointment at the empty bottle informed, "There's another one in the kitchen if you want."
Smiling at the girl, Maia nodded her head, quietly excusing herself from the table to do just as Nancy suggested.
Opening the backdoor, she slowly found her way to the kitchen, in absolutely no rush to go back out. Once she reached her destination, Maia quickly saw the bottle but decided to take a detour, pacing back and forth on the kitchen tiles, giving herself a mental pep talk.
You are 22 years old. It has been three goddamn years. It is your best friend's rehearsal dinner and you're acting like a freakin' baby. You don't care about Steve. Screw him. So for the love of god, pull yourself together and sort your shit out.
Still, even as she repeated the mantra to herself, flashes of Steve's face at the dinner table and what it might have meant flowed filled her brain. Halting in her step, Maia turned to grip the kitchen counter in defeat. Dropping her head down, Maia let out an agitated sigh. "You fucking idiot." She mumbled to herself.
"I hope you’re not talking about me."
Despite the joking nature, the voice cut through like glass. Snapping her neck up, Maia found herself face to face with Steve, who looked extremely apprehensive to even approach the girl, sheepishly smiling at his lame attempt at humor.
"What are you doing here?" Maia quickly asked, in a tone that bordered on menacing rather than defensive. She couldn't help but wonder how long he had been watching her pace like a crazed person.
"Just um, checking up on you." Steve admitted abashed, "You seemed sort of... stressed."
Maia scoffed. She was in no mood to tell Steve how she was feeling when he was the one at fault. And who the hell did he think he was to even try and guess how she was feeling after three years? Even if he was right. And that just made her even more upset. It was all just a bit too overwhelming for her.
Narrowing her eyes, Maia shot back with fire. "I don't need you to check up on me okay? So you can just go back outside and fuck off."
At the hostility in her voice, Steve immediately froze. He knew it wasn't a good idea to follow Maia in here to begin with. Robin's warning face when he told her needed to “use the restroom” should've made him sit right back down and eat his damn food but he just couldn't help himself when he saw her walk out of the backyard with that worried expression he could recognize all too easily.
Mumbling a quick sorry, Steve began to turn around, kicking himself for how stupid it was to think that he could just talk to her after everything that happened. But the damage was already done. The hurt in his eyes immediately filled Maia with regret for her harsh language. It wasn't his fault she wasn't over him even after three years. She was acting like a baby, and it was time to move on. Maybe they wouldn't be friends, but she at least had to be amicable if she wanted to survive the summer.
"Steve wait." Maia called out, gripping the kitchen counter even harder. Reluctantly walking over to the boy who spun around with lightning speed, Maia sighed. "Look, that wasn't cool okay? I'm sorry."
Hearing the regret in her voice, Steve's eyes immediately softened. "Maia it's fine-"
"No it's not." Maia cut off, "You were just checking up on me and I just went off on you." Sighing, Maia looked down to her feet, in shock she was admitting this to Steve out of all people. "It's just that being here- in Hawkins again, it's a lot for me." Turning her head to the side, she let out a self deprecating scoff. "I guess you could say I haven't been handling it so well even though it's been less than 24 hours. I think maybe it's because of the long drive too. I'm also really sleep deprived, and-"
"Maia." Steve cut off softly but firmly.
The tone of his voice made Maia stop rambling and turn to look back at Steve who sent her a small but understanding smile. "You don't have to make excuses like that. No one expects you to act like you weren’t gone for three whole years. We're just- we're happy you're here." Steve paused for a moment, wondering if it was too much to add what he really wanted to say.
"I'm happy you're here." He admitted quietly, as if it was a secret between the two of them.
Maia stayed silent, the sincerity of his words leaving her speechless. "Thanks." Maia softly replied, only able to muster a single word back to Steve's confession. She suddenly realized that her and Steve were less than two feet apart. And after spending almost 700 miles away from each other, the realization at the lack of distance made Maia's heart pound.
Immediately taking a step back, Maia refused to so easily transform back to her eighteen year old self who clung to every word the boy in front of her said. Looking around, she grabbed the forgotten champagne bottle. "I'm gonna go back out." She mumbled, needed some fresh air.
Not even waiting for his response Maia, quickly turned to walk out of the kitchen only to hear him call out her name once again.
When Maia turned back around, she was surprised to be met with a version of Steve's face that contorted with both urgency and panic. She patiently watched Steve struggle to say something, who despite having prepared for this exact moment, was at a loss for the right words. He had practiced it with Robin and Dustin, had written it down like Hopper suggested he do, and it was all for nothing as he forced his brain to say anything. Absolutely anything.
"Are we okay?"
Steve immediately cringed at how stupid he sounded. He had practiced endlessly what to say to the girl standing in front of him ever since he heard she was coming back in town, and if he was being completely honest, far before that as well. But somehow, he had reduced a well thought out, well practice speech, into three ridiculously short words.
But it didn't matter. Because Maia knew exactly what he meant. She always knew what Steve meant and everything in between. He was telling her that he didn't want it to be awkward between them. He was apologizing, again. And above all else, he was asking her. Asking if she could ever find it in her heart to move on. Or if she would rather him just fuck off and not show up to the places she went. Because he would it, if thats what she wanted. But he was hoping that wasn't the case. He's hoping and asking if he could be apart of her life. At least for the summer.
And despite how well she understood his question, she didn't have an answer. Her mind was screaming to tell him to just avoid her, that it wasn't smart for them to be around each other. Even though she knew that their friend group dynamic would make that very difficult. But the logistics weren't the reason why Maia was hesitating to tell him to fuck off, not even close. Because the truth was, she just didn't want to.
And she also didn't want to think too deeply as to why she felt that way either. All she knew was that she was torn between telling him to fuck off or fuck her own mental health even further. In her fit of silence, Maia registered Steve's anxious gaze and realized she had been quiet for far too long.
Sucking in a deep breath, Maia chose to just respond honestly. "I don't know. But we could try."
And without waiting for him to respond Maia she turned around and walked back to the party. But Steve lingered in the kitchen, replaying her words back in his head.
We could try.
To some, it might not have been an ideal response, but to Steve, he saw it as the second chance he knew he didn't deserve. For three years, he had accepted that he had no choice but to lie in the bed his eighteen year old self made. And so her response felt like a karmic mishap. Like a divine force had thrown him a lifeline by mistake.
What he did to deserve the universe's pity or blunder he wasn't sure. But what he did know was that he was going to take whatever Maia was willing to give him, even if it meant simply being around her. Because he wasn't lying about what he had said.
"I should probably go back home, why does that feel difficult?" - Gracie Abrams
Series: the secret of us masterlist
Steve Harrington x Henderson! Original Female Character (Maia Henderson)
Summary: Three years after helping save the world from an inter-dimensional monster, Maia Henderson returns to Hawkins for Jonathan's and Nancy's wedding. She's forced to confront her own past, and specifically, Steve Harrington. The boy who irrevocably stole then promptly shattered her heart all those years ago. She's definitely not ready to face everything him again, but unfortunately, she was going to do it anyways. Would it be so bad to say she'd rather be fighting demogorgans than speak to him ever again?
Warnings: None really, just a really slow burn for those who like to torture themselves.
Word Count: 3.9k
-------
Maia peeked her head out of the car window as she drove past the bright green sign that used to be covered fully in red graffiti.
Welcome To Hawkins.
It was as if the sign was staring back at her. No, taunting her. As if daring her to come back to the place that reeked of childhood memories, a burnt mall, demogorgans, and a hundred little cul de sacs that housed a hundred huge nuclear families. Maia had once envisioned a life just like that. She imagined a cul de sac and an R.V with one person in particular. Now, she couldn't quite believe she was willingly back in Hawkins, Indiana.
When she had gotten the call about a month ago from Jonathan who broke the news of his engagement to Nancy and to ask her to be his "best woman", Maia was unsure if she should laugh or cry.
Laugh because she had endured all that heartbreak just for these two to still end up marrying each other. Or cry, for the exact same reason. But instead of either of those reactions, Maia chose to genuinely smile because she was truly happy for her oldest friend.
Jonathan and Maia had met in Ms. Kitty's first grade class and the rest was history. They hung out so much, Dustin became friends with Will, Mike, and Lucas and that was history as well.
And even though she was unsure if she wanted to return to Hawkins, Maia knew there was no way she was going to miss her best friend's wedding. Jonathan threatened her too that if she didn’t come, he would fly up to New York and drag her there himself. On top of that, she also received a call from her brother who immediately jumped at the opportunity to beg Maia to not only stay for the wedding in May, but also for the rest of the summer. And although she was slightly resistant at first, Dustin had looped in the rest of the party and Robin to also call Maia to stay for a classic Hawkins summer. Maia knew she had no choice but to hop on a plane and face everyone again. Even if it meant seeing him.
Steve Harrington.
The boy who absolutely destroyed her when they broke up. Technically, Maia had broken up with him, but not before exalting every other option possible, including setting her pride and dignity aside for an obscene amount of time as she watched her boyfriend pine over his first love. The cherry on top was that she was also in the midst of a ploy to save the world from an alternate dimension monster. So all in all, her last year in Hawkins was an absolute shit fest.
The breakup was... ugly to say the least and absolutely gut wrenching and more if Maia was being completely honest. It had completely broken her to be so deeply in love with Steve and watch him rediscover his love for Nancy Wheeler. Maia had known going into the relationship that Steve was still recovering from his breakup, but she was so blinded by her own emotions to realize he never really got over her until it was far too late.
Just thinking about it made Maia's insides turn. And as she drove past Hawkins High, the movie theater, and the part of the forest where just a small hike lead to Skull Rock, her stomach twisted even more at the memories re-flooding her brain.
Sucking in a deep breath, Maia tried to regulate her breathing, but her heart pounded even harder instead. Maia was sure that if she was pulled over right now, an officer would fine her for not being of sound mind to drive.
The fact was that there were a multitude of reasons why Maia had chosen to leave Hawkins. One, was that next to that R.V and cul de sac, her second dream was to live in the big apple a bit before settling down. Two, after everything that went down from Demogorgans to Vecna, Maia was indeed traumatized enough to restart a life away from all the pain and loss she'd endured. But if she was being completely honest with herself, Steve Harrington had been the deciding factor that made Maia pack her bags and leave her strangely beloved little hometown.
Somehow, she pulled into her childhood driveway without crashing. Placing the car in park, Maia took a second to herself, staring at the house she had spent almost two decades in. It felt surreal to her how nothing about it had changed. She could almost picture her 10 year old self playing with Mews in the front yard. But now, she was 22, and Mews... well, she was dead thanks to her brother and his former nougat-obsessed demodog pet.
Speaking of Dustin, Maia's silence was destroyed by the slamming of the front door and a loud screech of her name. Maia didn't even have to look to know who’s voice that was. Smiling widely, she quickly got out of her car and practically flew backwards at the impact of her brother, who squeezed his sister as if he was trying to strangle her.
Hugging him back with the same intensity, Maia, let out a breathless laugh. "I missed you too."
"You're never leaving again." Dustin stated matter of factly, practically speaking into her shoulder, "Ever."
The sincerity of his voice, made Maia feel slightly guilty. Yes, Dustin had gone to visit her every spring break, and occasionally long weekends, but seeing each other 3 or 4 times a year was a far cry from the 18 years the Henderson siblings spent glued to each other's hip. And when the whole upside down saga occurred, it only pushed the two closer to each other.
Maia always knew she missed Dustin insanely, but as they hugged, she realized just how numb she had come to it over the past few years. Maia promised to never let that happen again.
As the two brought her bags back into the house, they immediately began catching up. "So how's everyone?" Maia asked, also feeling slightly guilty she hadn't kept up with everyone other than Jonathan and Dustin. Sure, everyone called here and there, but it wasn't the same as seeing them everyday like she used to.
"They're good." Dustin replied. "Everyone's really excited to see you. We all missed you, especially the party. They all wanted to come but I told them I got priority since I'm your actual brother."
Maia smiled widely at the mention of the rest of the party. Since the beginning, she had always been the favorite older sibling who drove them to the arcade and played DnD campaigns with them. And after Will went missing, she officially took on the role as babysitter, from helping to hide Eleven in Mikes basement, to hiding Eddie in the lake house almost two years later, and everything in between. Steve Harrington eventually joining her was simply an unexpected plus and was also the main reason why they had gotten so close. It hurt to think about that now though.
"I'm excited to see everyone too." Maia said, "What time is the rehearsal dinner again?"
"Seven." Dustin quickly replied, "Its at Hopper and Joyce's new house."
"Ah, I see Hopper finally gave up his pride and cashed in the government check." Maia laughed, shaking her head at the thought of the stubborn former chief. After everything that happened, the government gave each of "Hawkin's Heroes" a check that practically read thank you for saving the world but shut the fuck up and move on with your lives. Maia wasn't a big fan of the so called "hush money", but without it, she wouldn't have been able to back her bags and rent out a nice comfy studio in New York. And if anything, a check was the least they deserved after everything they went through.
The two talked endlessly, from Dustin's senior year to Maia's new job at a large marketing firm. Time flew by, and before either of them knew it, the clock struck 6:50.
Looking at his watch, Dustin widened his eyes. "Shit! We're gonna late!"
Peering down at her own watch, Maia quickly sat up from the couch, gasping at the time. "Fuck, it's already been an hour?" Turning to Dustin, Maia became all too aware that she looked like shit after a long drive from the airport and that Dustin was no where near ready for a wedding rehearsal dinner either.
"Five minutes to get ready!" Maia ordered, "Then we got to get our asses moving and out of this house!"
----------
Thankfully, neither of them took too long to change clothes. Maia plucked out one of the only two dresses she had brought with her, before brushing out her hair. It was rush times like these Maia was glad she chopped off her long signature hair for a sleek shoulder length bob. Maia barely had time for blush and mascara before rushing out to the car, where Dustin was already waiting in the passenger seat.
Pulling out of her driveway, Maia relaxed a bit. The good thing about Hawkins was that everything was less than a ten minute drive, and there was barely any traffic. Very much different from the jay walking and packed streets of New York.
As she took a left off of her street solely based off muscle memory, Maia cringed in embarrassment. "Wait, shit I'm heading to Joyce's old house. What street do they live on now?"
At this, Dustin paused, as if there was something to hide. Maia noticed, but before she could question it, Dustin quickly recovered. Clearing his throat, he nodded, "Um... yeah, just take a left after you reach the high school."
At his vague directions, Maia quickly made a U-Turn. "Dude, just tell me the street name. I'm rusty, not amnesic." Especially after the endless crawls they went on in search of Vecna in the Upside Down, Maia had the entire Hawkins grid forever memorized.
Clearing his throat again, Dustin scratched the back of his neck. "They uh, live on... Cherry Creek."
At the name of the street, Maia's grip tightened on the steering wheel. She hated how the name of street brought the taste of acid and bad memories to her mouth.
Quiet for a minute, Maia made a lame joke. "I guess Hop used up his entire government check." It was no secret that Cherry Creek was one of the most expensive neighborhoods in Hawkins. And despite the street's pristine lawns and well maintained appearance, Maia's issue with Cherry Creek was that it was where Steve Harrington had lived.
Maia had many memories of Cherry Creek. Many sleepovers and days lounging by Steve's pool. But the memories of fights and Maia eventually storming out of the front door for the last time overruled any other memory.
As if Dustin could read his sister's mind, he gently asked, "You good?"
Quickly glancing at Dustin who stared at his sister with pity and concern, Maia realized she must have been lost in her thoughts for a while. She untensed, sending him an apologetic smile, "Sorry, just kinda blanked out for a second."
Unsure if he should, Dustin nervously added, "You know that he's uh, going to be there right?"
Sucking in a deep breath, Maia nodded her head. "Yeah, yeah. I-I figured he would." Maia knew it had been stupid to ignore the inevitable, but there was nothing she could have done about it anyways. There was no shot she was going to miss her best friend's wedding because she was scared to see an ex, horrified to see him even. So, instead of torturing herself by thinking of what might happen when she peered into those familiar brown eyes again, Maia decided to push any thought of it aside instead. This option, however, now seemed to be biting her in the ass as she realized she was woefully unprepared to see Steve again for the first time in three years.
"Um, how... how is he?" Maia asked, unable to shake the wobbliness in her tone.
Silent for a moment, Dustin considered how he should proceed with his answer. Absolute honesty, or with sprinkles of white lies. Should he mention that Steve still constantly asks about Maia? Or that he’s been a hot mess all week leading up to Maia’s return, and arguably ever since Dustin confirmed a month ago that she would be coming back at all? Instead, he settled for the latter. "He's doing... pretty good." Dustin finally responded, "He's taking some community college classes, learning to become a teacher."
At this, Maia had a physical reaction, the car jolting slightly. When Maia first moved to New York, she made it very clear to Jonathan and Dustin that she didn't want to hear about Steve, and so their calls consisted of everything but him. And so hearing that he was learning to become a teacher, the profession that Maia had suggested to him all those years ago, that tugged on her heart in a way that dragged it down to the pit of her stomach.
Sucking in a deep breath, Maia nodded her head, trying to keep her composure. "That's good for him. Really."
Thankfully, before Dustin could respond, Maia pulled up to their destination, which was easily decipherable due to the surplus of white balloons and flowers that adorned the house in preparation for the wedding.
Staring at the two story cul de sac, Maia realized the time had finally come to face the music. Everything she had been running from was in the house. He was in the house.
"You ready?" Dustin asked, turning to his sister from the passenger seat.
Sheepishly, Maia shook her head. "Nope. But I'm gonna do it anyways."
------
Maia's heart pounded as she walked up the cobblestone and to the front door. She couldn't quite believe this was actually happening. The moment was three years in the making, but somehow, all Maia wanted to do was turn back around and catch the next flight back to New York.
"I can hear you shaking from here." Dustin teased, making Maia let out a dry laugh.
"Yeah, I'm nervous." She admitted, knowing there was really one reason person that made her so.
"It's gonna be fine." Dustin quickly assured, "And if you're feeling like you're about to go into cardiac arrest or feel the urge to stab him, plan B is to ignore him."
At this, Maia let out a sincere laugh. "Dustin, ignoring him was always my plan A."
With that, the Henderson siblings reached the front door, Dustin promptly ringing the doorbell. "Breathe." Dustin advised, seeing his sister tap her foot nervously.
"I am." Maia quickly shot back. Nonetheless, she took her brother's advice and took a sharp deep breath just as the door swung open to reveal a very, very happy Robin.
"Maia!" The girl practically shrieked, throwing her arms around her long lost friend. Maia and Robin had become particularly close when they were all employees at Scoops Ahoy. Maia had really only gotten the job because she wanted to spend more time with Steve, but she had left it with Robin as one of her closest friends, plus a scar thanks to an interrogation session with a Russian general.
"Robin!" Maia exclaimed quick to hug the girl back, "It's so good to see you again!"
"So what am I chopped liver?" Dustin sarcastically mumbled, only for the two girls to pull away and look at the boy with smirks.
"You aren't the one thats been gone for three years, Dingus." Robin argued.
Before Dustin could argue, Joyce and Hopper were next to appear, Maia practically tripping over herself to hug the woman she's always considered her second mom.
"Oh I've missed you sweetheart." Joyce said as she hugged Maia tightly.
"Me too." Maia replied, remaining in her embrace for a second longer before letting go. Turning to Hopper, Maia smirked, "Hey Jim."
"Henderson." Hopper greeted with fake grievance. In the past, Maia had been known to always get on Hopper's nerves, especially when it came to Crawls. But at the end of the day, Hopper knew that he trusted Maia to take care of the kids and make the right decisions, even if they were a bit crazy at times. "It's good to see you kid." Hopper said with a genuine smile, breaking his act.
"Right back at ya." Maia replied, giving into the side hug from the chief. Maia had to admit, it was nice seeing everyone again. But that was never the problem. Everyone else wasn't why she had left three years ago. If anything, they were the reason why she always found herself wanting to turn back.
As she caught up with Joyce and Hopper, the floor suddenly began began to shake from what felt like a stampede. Snapping her head to the kitchen, the door flew open and the entire party appeared, all yelling Maia's name in excitement.
Maia practically squealed when she saw the kids, meeting them halfway for a group hug. "Holy crap, I've missed you dipshits." Maia admitted. She was met with a string of agreements around her.
As soon as she let go, an onslaught of overlapping comments and greetings immediately began, all of them buzzing to catch up their former babysitter on everything and anything.
Maia couldn't help herself but laugh as she watched the kids talk over each other. Looking at them, Maia supposed "kids" was definitely not the right word to describe the party anymore. They were all seniors in high school, practically adults. But could you blame Maia if all she saw were the same children she played DnD and arcade games with?
Snapping out of her thoughts, Maia realized the kids were still talking over each other to her. "Okay woah, one at a time."
"We thought you were flying in tomorrow!" Lucas exclaimed, making Maia raise her eyebrow at her him.
"What? No, I was always planning on coming for the rehearsal dinner."
"But Dustin said..." Will began, only to trail off as realization hit everyone. The rest of the party turned to glare and gasp at Dustin, who sheepishly smiled at being caught in his lie.
"You liar!" Max accused, pointing her finger at Dustin who only shot his hands in the air.
"Oh you lying piece of shit." Mike cursed, narrowing his eyes at the boy, who, if anything, seemed unapologetic and almost proud of himself.
"Okay in my defense, she's my sister!" Dustin argued but to no avail.
"So what?" Lucas shot back, the rest of the kids chiming in to attack Dustin.
"So what?" Dustin repeated as if it were a stupid question, "So I'm the only one biologically related to her, so I should be the first one to see her! You all would've just hogged her.. so, I took precautions."
This lead to even more outrage, the party beginning to argue on the morals of it all. Mike pointed out how they had all thrown Dustin a welcome back party when he returned from summer camp and it was unbelievable that this was how he repaid them, while Eleven brought up the incontestable point that "friends don't lie."
Amidst all the chaos, Maia didn't even realize a particular figure appear, leaning against the kitchen door frame. Steve looked at Maia and the kids with a fond smile, watching as she laughed at the party's silly arguments.
He missed that laugh.
Feeling a pair of eyes on her, Maia suddenly felt her entire body freeze. It was odd. She didn't even need to look up to know who was staring at her. But her body betrayed her mind and Maia found herself staring into the gaze of Steve Harrington, who immediately froze too from the mere eye contact they made.
It was as if the entire room went silent. Well, it did. The second Maia and Steve made eye contact, the room quickly shut up, staring at the two as if watching a ping pong match played with a grenade instead of a ball.
Maia couldn't help but immediately clock everything that was different about him. For one, his features were sharper, no longer carrying the softness his eighteen year old self once had. He seemed impossibly taller, even though Maia knew it was highly unlikely he grew anymore at the ripe age of twenty three. Perhaps he just stood straighter now, which made sense to Maia. He seemed to carry a confidence and purpose that wasn't there before.
But at the same time, his differences were overpowered by the familiarities that Maia had fallen in love with all those years ago. His stupidly good looking hair remained the same, and Maia could swear she could smell the Farrah Fawcett spray from here. And perhaps most obvious were his eyes. They were still the same hue of brown that Maia had peered into so many times before. They still looked at her the same way they always had, except now with a tinge of sadness and panic that Maia was sure also appeared in her eyes too.
But what finally did it to her was hearing his voice. "Maia." He breathed out, as if her name was a foreign language he had once known how to speak fluently.
It had been three years since she last heard his voice and Maia hated to admit it, but hearing it made her miss it even more. "Steve." Maia said back with the same insurmountable emotion that Steve had said her name with.
If only Maia knew the impact her voice had on Steve. His breath caught in his throat. Hearing the girl speak for the first time in ages made whatever he had practiced a million times this past month fly out the window.
Steve opened his mouth, begging his brain to say anything. But just as he was about to, Jonathan and Nancy came from upstairs, shifting everyone's attention. The couple quickly rushed down the stairs, Jonathan excitedly yelling Maia's name delighted to reunite with his best friend and completely oblivious to the scene beneath him.
Maia immediately took the chance to get out of whatever had just happened, and practically flew into Jonathan's arms hugging him tight. "Holy shit I missed you." Jonathan said, sighing into Maia's arms.
"I've missed you too."
Glancing behind Maia's shoulder, Jonathan saw Steve stare at them and surmised what probably just occurred. "Looks like I came to your rescue."
Scoffing a laugh, Maia couldn't help the smile appearing on her face. "Shut up."
Still, she couldn't deny the truth of Jonathan's statement. He did indeed save her from having to stare deeper into the eyes of Steve Harrington. And as Maia tried to calm her racing heart that only pounded more at the thought of Steve, Maia dreaded the fact that Jonathan wouldn't always be there to save her from moments like this. That at some point, she was probably going to have to talk to him.
And while she would try her best to delay that moment for as long as possible, she knew one thing for sure.
Steve Harrington x Henderson! Original Female Character (Maia Henderson)
Summary: Three years after helping save the world from an inter-dimensional monster, Maia Henderson returns to Hawkins for Jonathan's and Nancy's wedding. She's forced to confront her own past, and specifically, Steve Harrington. The boy who irrevocably stole then promptly shattered her heart all those years ago. She's definitely not ready to face everything him again, but unfortunately, she was going to do it anyways. Would it be so bad to say she'd rather be fighting demogorgans that speak to him ever again?
Warnings: None really, just a really slow burn for those who like to torture themselves.
steve harrington x gracie williams(eventually)
word count: 4449
summary: will scared the shit out of the entire party mid search for dart. the search for dart continues, but gracie is pulled aside by nancy and jonathan who need her in their plan to take down the hawkins laboratory and bring justice for barbara.
GRACIE AND THE REST OF THE GROUP RUSHED TO THE FIELD, THEIR FOOTSTEPS POUNDING IN UNISON, HEARTS RACING IN ANTICIPATION OF WHAT THEY'D FIND. They had already been through so much, and now, seeing Will like this, motionless and frozen in place, sent a chill of dread through her body.
As they neared the boy, they saw Mike kneeling beside him, his face pale with fear, shaking Will gently. Ms. Byers was on the other side, her hands desperately gripping her son’s shoulders as she called out to him, but Will’s body didn’t respond. His eyes were squeezed shut, his face contorted with some unseen strain, and his whole body trembled violently, though he remained eerily still. His breath was shallow, coming in rapid bursts, like something was choking him from the inside.
“Will!” Gracie cried out, rushing to his side. Her voice cracked with panic, her heart hammering in her chest. She fell to her knees beside him, her hands hovering uncertainly above his body, not knowing if touching him would help or make things worse.
Max was right behind her, eyes wide with concern, biting her lip as she scanned Will’s unmoving form. “What’s going on with him?” she asked, her voice trembling.
Mike looked up, desperation in his eyes. “I just found him like this… I think it’s another episode. It’s happening again… it’s like last time…”
Joyce was frantic, her voice cracking as she shook Will’s shoulders, calling his name with growing desperation. “Sweetie, wake up! It’s Mom! Will, please, wake up!”
But Will didn’t move. His eyes were still shut tight, his body locked in place as if some invisible force was holding him there.
Gracie’s breath hitched as her mind spiraled. No, not again. Not like this. Her fingers trembled as she gently touched Will’s arm, her voice breaking. “Will, please… wake up!”
“Come on, Will. Please!” Max added, kneeling on the other side of him, her face pale, eyes filled with deep concern.
The seconds stretched out, each one feeling like an eternity. Will’s body shook more violently now, the twitching in his eyes growing erratic as if something was pulling at him, something dark, something out of his control.
“Will! Please!” Gracie’s voice cracked again as she shook him gently, feeling like she was on the edge of losing him.
In that moment, a strange sensation crawled up her spine, a cold, crawling feeling that made her skin prickle. She looked around, as if expecting something to be watching them from the shadows, something wrong. But there was nothing, just the quiet whisper of wind through the trees and the desperate pleas from the people around her.
“Will!” Joyce screamed, her voice raw, her face a mask of pain. She gripped Will’s face now, her hands shaking, as if trying to anchor him back to her. “Will, please! It’s me! Mom… Please, come back to us!”
And just then, Will’s eyes snapped open.
--------
“Okay, that totally freaked me out,” Max repeated, her voice edged with both concern and confusion as she glanced around at the rest of the group. Gracie, Mike, Lucas, and Dustin all stood frozen on the field, their minds still reeling from what had just happened. The air felt heavier now, as if it had absorbed the terror of the moment and was holding onto it, unwilling to let it go.
Will had been rushed off by Joyce the moment he’d regained some semblance of consciousness, the panic still evident in the way she clutched him to her side as she hurried them both back toward their house. But for the rest of them, they were left standing in stunned silence, the echoes of Will’s spasms and terrified eyes still reverberating in their minds.
Max blinked, not getting the reaction she expected. She frowned, then asked again, her tone sharper now: “Did that not freak you guys out?”
There was a long pause as the group just looked at her. They were all too caught up in the memory of what they’d just witnessed to really process anything else. Lucas was the first to speak, his voice low, a sigh escaping him as he crossed his arms. “Two episodes in two days,” he muttered, his eyes full of worry.
Gracie didn’t need to look at the others to know they were all thinking the same thing. Her stomach twisted with a tight knot of dread. It’s getting worse. She let out a shaky breath, running a hand through her hair as the weight of it all pressed in on her. “It’s getting worse,” she confirmed, her voice quiet but steady.
Mike looked down at the ground, his expression distant. He was clearly struggling with the same fears they all shared. “This is bad,” he said softly, almost as if speaking more to himself than anyone else.
But it was Dustin who voiced the thought they all had been afraid to say out loud. “You think it’s True Sight?”
A heavy silence fell over the group. Gracie could see Mike’s eyes dart to the others, a wordless exchange between them all. They were all thinking it, the only possible explanation for what was happening to Will. Somehow, somehow, Will was still connected to the Upside Down. That pull, that tethering force, hadn’t been severed. Not fully.
Max looked between them, sensing the shift in the air, the unease thickening. “What’s True Sight?” she asked, her brows furrowing as she tried to catch up with the conversation.
None of them answered. They couldn’t. Not without explaining things Max wasn’t ready for, things she couldn’t possibly understand, not yet. They’d been keeping the truth hidden for so long, trying to protect the people around them from the terrifying reality of the world they had been pulled into. But Gracie could feel the weight of that secret pressing on her more than ever now. Sooner or later, Max would have to know the truth.
Gracie felt the familiar pang of guilt as she glanced at Max’s confused face. She wanted to tell her, wanted to share everything with her friend so she wouldn’t feel left out. But there was no time for that now. Will was the priority. And whatever this “episode” was, it was getting worse.
Mike broke the tension, shrugging off Max’s question with an air of casualness that felt forced. “It’s nothing,” he said, his tone clipped.
Max gave him an unimpressed look, but didn’t press. She seemed to sense that there was more going on, but it was clear she was already feeling left out of something bigger than she could grasp.
Gracie sucked in a deep breath, feeling the weight of responsibility crashing down on her. She had to pull it together. For them. For Will. If she lost it now, everything would fall apart.
“Come on, guys,” she said, her voice suddenly firm, taking a step away from the group. She motioned for them to follow her as she began walking off the field, her feet crunching against the grass. “Let’s get you guys back home.”
-----------
“Stop being a baby and do it already!” Mike ordered, his voice sharp and impatient. Lucas hesitated for a moment, then, with a heavy sigh, reluctantly jumped into the school’s back dumpster. It was the day after Will’s episode, and, of course, Will had stayed home to recover. But the rest of the party was still on a mission: they had to find Dart, who had escaped from the AV room the day before and was still nowhere to be found.
“Oh God, it stinks so bad back here,” Gracie groaned, scrunching her nose in disgust as Lucas began dumping trash bags onto the concrete floor. The foul stench of rotting food, old wrappers, and who-knows-what-else filled the air, making it nearly impossible to breathe without gagging.
“This is so disgusting,” Max muttered, taking a step back. “Is this really necessary?”
Just then, Dustin appeared at the back door, looking around in confusion at the scene before him, his friends gathered around the dumpster, clearly not enjoying themselves. “What the hell’s going on?”
“What do you think?” Mike shot back sarcastically, his arms crossed. “We’re looking for Dart.”
Dustin blinked, clearly caught off guard. But Gracie, who had been watching him closely, couldn’t help but notice something in his expression, something that looked a lot like guilt. A flicker of nervousness passed over his features, and for a moment, she couldn’t shake the feeling that Dustin knew more than he was letting on.
It dawned on her, he had been the one to tell everyone that Dart was still missing. Had he found Dart and kept it a secret? Gracie felt a knot tighten in her stomach.
Before she could voice her suspicion, Lucas suddenly leaped back out of the dumpster, sending a wave of rank odor straight toward them. Everyone took an immediate step back, their faces scrunching in disgust as the smell hit them.
“Jesus!” Max shrieked, holding her nose and backing away, her face twisted in horror.
Gracie gagged, turning her head to the side, trying to avoid inhaling the overwhelming stench. It was as if the smell had a life of its own, thick and sour, enough to make anyone lose their lunch.
“Well, well, well,” Lucas muttered, his voice dripping with irritation as he wiped his hands on his pants and turned to face Dustin. “Look who finally decided to show up. After I drew the short straw. Real convenient.”
Dustin immediately stepped back, wrinkling his nose at the putrid odor Lucas was carrying with him. “You stink!” he yelled, his face reddening.
But before Lucas could retort, Dustin’s attention shifted to Max, who was still struggling to recover from the smell. His blush deepened. “Uh, hi, Max,” he said awkwardly, his voice suddenly smaller.
Max, still grimacing from the stench, glanced at him with a raised eyebrow. “Uh, hey.”
Mike rolled his eyes at the exchange and tossed a stick at Dustin, the gesture more impatient than playful. “Are you just gonna stand there, or are you gonna help?”
Dustin blinked down at the stick, then looked at the mountain of trash before him, immediately joining his friends to help look for Dart.
Moving slightly away from the rest of the group, Gracie glanced over her shoulder to make sure no one was paying attention before leaning toward Dustin. Her voice was barely a whisper as she spoke, careful not to let the others overhear.
“So, are you sad now that Dart’s gone?” Gracie asked, her tone casual, but her eyes sharp. She was watching him closely for any sign of guilt or hesitation.
Dustin, clearly caught off guard by the question, stumbled for a moment. “Uh, yeah, yeah… so sad,” he muttered, his words coming out way too quickly, and the awkward cough afterward did nothing to mask the unease in his voice.
Gracie smirked inwardly, already knowing the answer. She’d seen enough to know that Dustin was a terrible liar, his voice cracking, his fidgeting. Everything about him screamed that he was hiding something.
“Right.” Gracie hummed, her eyes narrowing slightly. She leaned in just a little closer, lowering her voice further as she continued, “Well… hypothetically… if Dart was, I don’t know, in your house or something… then maybe you should come clean now.”
At the mention of Dart being in his house, Dustin’s head snapped up so fast it was almost comical. His eyes widened in pure panic, and for a split second, Gracie could see the truth flicker across his face before he quickly masked it with a nervous laugh.
“That, that’s crazy, Gracie! I mean, totally,” Dustin started to protest, his voice shaky.
Gracie wasn’t having it. She rolled her eyes, cutting him off before he could dig himself deeper. “Yeah, yeah,” she muttered dismissively, her tone shifting to something far more serious. The playful edge dropped from her voice, replaced by something far more intense. “Dustin, this is serious, okay? We don’t know what that thing is capable of. And I know you have a… connection with him. It must be hard. But Dustin, this is bigger than that, and I need you to do the right thing, if what I’m saying has any truth. Got it?”
Gracie’s gaze hardened, her eyes locking onto his to gauge his reaction. She wasn’t letting him squirm out of this. She needed to know if he was going to come clean, or if he was still planning to keep whatever it was a secret.
Dustin swallowed hard, his throat working as he nervously fidgeted with his fingers. The guilt was written all over his face now, clearer than ever. “Got it.” He gulped, his voice sounding smaller than usual. He shifted uncomfortably, eyes darting to the ground, clearly rethinking his actions. “… Hypothetically, of course.”
“I should’ve known better than to try and put one over on you.”
Gracie stood there for a moment, watching him carefully, her eyebrows raised in silent challenge. She could see the wheels turning in his head, the realization settling in that he couldn’t keep lying his way out of this. She hoped it was enough to make him see that it was time to do the right thing.
The silence between them stretched for a beat before Gracie nodded, satisfied, for now. She hadn’t gotten a confession, but his reaction was all the confirmation she needed. There was something about Dart, and it had everything to do with Dustin.
“Good. Now, let’s get back to it,” she said, her voice lighter but still carrying the weight of what had just been said.
---------
After giving Dustin a stern talking-to, Gracie had returned home to find her mom on the phone, listening intently. When she hung up, she quickly filled Gracie in: Nancy Wheeler had called, asking her to meet Nancy and Jonathan at the park for a “study session” at 2 PM, just as Gracie had been out with the party, digging through trash.
Gracie’s mind immediately raced. She knew Nancy and Jonathan well enough by now to realize that “study session” was code for whatever crazy thing they were plotting this time. A shiver of trepidation ran down her spine as she grabbed her jacket and headed out the door.
The air at Hawkins Park felt unusually thick as she walked toward the bench where Nancy and Jonathan were sitting side by side, their postures stiff and their faces taut with some unspoken tension. Gracie couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at their stiff, almost suspicious demeanor.
“You guys look like an old married couple, ya know?” she teased, only to be cut off mid-sentence when Nancy suddenly grabbed her by the arm and pulled her down onto the bench beside them. Jonathan quickly shushed her with a glance, his gaze darting nervously around the park.
“Sit down, Gracie,” Nancy said quietly but firmly, her voice laced with a sense of urgency.
Gracie, still puzzled, glanced between the two of them. “What’s going on?”
Instead of answering, Jonathan leaned in toward Nancy and whispered something too low for Gracie to catch. Gracie tried to ask again, but just as she opened her mouth, Nancy stiffened, her eyes scanning the park.
“It’s 15 past,” Jonathan muttered, his eyes darting to a spot off in the distance.
Nancy sighed, tapping her foot impatiently on the ground. “Yeah, I know. Just give him time.”
Gracie squinted, still not getting it. “Can someone please tell me what the hell is going on here?”
Without responding, Nancy straightened her back and pointed toward a man walking through the park. “That guy. There.” The three of them turned as one, their gazes locking onto a tall, white man in a sharp suit carrying a briefcase.
Gracie frowned, not understanding why Nancy was so fixated on him. “What about him?”
Nancy’s voice dropped even lower. “He just… talked to himself.”
Gracie blinked in confusion. “What?” She turned to look again, but now, as her eyes scanned the area, she noticed there were two others, both of them seemingly having quiet, one-sided conversations with themselves, though their lips didn’t move quite right.
Jonathan’s brow furrowed. “What is this, some kind of… weird local thing?”
“I think we should go,” Jonathan said quickly, already standing and moving toward the car. Nancy followed, and Gracie, completely lost, was tugged along with them, her steps faltering as she tried to piece together what was happening.
“Guys, seriously. What’s going on?” she asked, still trying to make sense of it all.
“We’ll explain in a second,” Nancy whispered, barely audible as she fumbled for the keys in her pocket and rushed to start the car. But the engine sputtered instead of roaring to life. Nancy cursed under her breath, turning the key again, but it only sputtered more.
Tension crackled in the air. The noise of the park felt muffled now, as if something was pressing in around them. Jonathan’s eyes widened as a man approached the car, his footsteps too deliberate, too precise. He wore a perfectly pressed suit and a grin so wide and fake it made Gracie’s skin crawl.
“Trouble with your car, miss?” he asked, his voice too smooth, his smile too perfect. “I can give you three a lift, if you like.”
Gracie’s heart skipped a beat. She looked at Jonathan and Nancy, both of them stiffening at the sudden appearance of the stranger. Something was definitely off. Gracie didn’t know what, but her gut was telling her loud and clear that this wasn’t a coincidence.
Nancy gave the engine one last, desperate turn, but again, it sputtered and died.
The man leaned down toward the window, his grin unwavering. “You sure you don’t need that ride?”
---------
“So let me get this straight,” Gracie said as the three sat in what seemed like an interrogation room. “You two called up Barbara’s mom to tell her about, you know, and they overheard, and now we’re here?” Gracie asked, still confused by the logic. After having no choice but to take a ride from the mystery man, the three ended up in the Hawkins Government Facility, a place that didn’t quite freak Nancy out too much anymore since she had come in a couple of times for Will’s checkups.
As Jonathan nodded, Gracie scrunched her eyebrows, still deeply confused. “Why in the hell would you do something as stupid as that, ow!” Gracie yelped, suddenly being kicked in the foot by Jonathan underneath the table.
“What the hell, Jonathan,” but Gracie cut herself off halfway through when she followed Jonathan’s hand as he lifted his jacket slightly to reveal a recording device.
Silent for a second, Gracie looked at Jonathan’s eyes, waiting for the girl to catch up.
“Oh shit,” Gracie gulped, everything finally making sense. The two had set this up to get here and record their conversations to, she most likely presumed, get back at the people who had killed Barb.
Leaning back into his chair, Jonathan quickly covered up the recording device again, nodding in agreement. “Exactly. Oh shit.”
Standing by the window, Nancy suddenly started banging on it, yelling, “Hey! Hey, assholes! Let us out of here!”
Just then, Dr. Owen walked in, a man Gracie had gotten to know as he was Will’s doctor. She wasn’t sure if she liked him or not, still finding anyone who worked at this place untrustworthy.
“Gracie,” the man politely addressed, having recognized the girl as well. “Sorry we couldn’t have met again under better circumstances.”
“When have we ever?” Gracie dryly shot back, never once having liked a visit to this lab. She only came if Will asked her to.
Being used to the girl’s sharp sense of humor, Dr. Owens chuckled. “Not very pleasant in here, is it?” he asked with a light smile. “Sorry about that. Hospitality’s not our strong suit. You know, scientists and all.”
“Or maybe because you guys are all psychos?” Gracie suggested, crossing her arms for the more likely reason why the hospitality was ass.
Dr. Owen was still unfazed, instead turning to Jonathan and Nancy and asking, “You guys up for a little walk?” As he walked out of the room, Gracie, Nancy, and Jonathan looked at each other before slowly getting up and following the man.
“Men of science have made abundant mistakes of every kind,” Dr. Owen began as they walked through the lab.
“Are you seriously quoting George Sarton?” Gracie asked, in exasperation. “Just to let you know, George Sarton didn’t accidentally kill an innocent girl by sending her to an alternate dimension.”
Impressed that the girl knew the reference, Dr. Owen complimented her politely. “You’re a smart young lady. But anyways, the point is, mistakes have been made. Yes.”
“Abundant mistakes,” he quickly corrected. “But the men involved with those mistakes, the ones responsible for what happened to your brother and Miss Holland’s death, they’re gone. They’re gone, and for better or worse, I’m the schmuck they brought in to make things better.”
“And how’s that going?” Gracie asked, raising her eyebrows.
Her comment was ignored, Dr. Owen walking them down to a small hall that led to an elevator, as the three cautiously followed the man into the elevator. Gracie’s stomach dropped along with the elevator that seemed to descend for ages.
“But I can’t make things better without your help,” Dr. Owen elaborated.
“You mean without us shutting up?” Nancy asked dryly, crossing her arms.
Sighing, Dr. Owen turned to Jonathan, grinning. “She’s tough, this one. You guys been together long?”
Nancy and Jonathan’s heads immediately snapped toward each other, Jonathan turning back to Dr. Owen, shaking his head. “We’re not together.”
Smirking, Gracie saw her chance to mess with both of them. With a mischievous glint in her eye, she turned to Jonathan and Nancy. “Aw, guys, don’t lie to Dr. Owen. He won’t tell, right?” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she tried, and failed, to hold in her laugh. Jonathan and Nancy both started blushing furiously, their eyes darting uncomfortably between each other.
Dr. Owen let out a soft chuckle, clearly amused by the sudden shift in tension. The elevator doors opened, and he stepped forward, with Nancy right behind him. Jonathan and Gracie followed, still chuckling softly as they emerged into the hallway.
“Very funny,” Jonathan said dryly, his face still a little red from the teasing. Gracie grinned, the playful moment helping ease some of the tension in the air.
But just as they were starting to walk, Dr. Owen stopped abruptly, turning to face them with a cryptic smile. “Wanna see what really killed your friend?”
Gracie’s stomach dropped at the sudden shift in mood. She followed Dr. Owen’s gaze as he gestured to a door in front of them. When he opened it, her breath caught in her throat.
The room beyond the door was medium-sized, but what caught her attention wasn’t the space. It was the horrifying sight beyond the glass window that separated them from the heart of the room. Her legs nearly buckled as she saw what lay on the other side.
At the center of the room, growing out of a dark red hole in the wall, were thick, twisting vines and roots. They were alive, pulsating with an unnatural energy. The deep crimson hue of the hole seemed to pull at her, and Gracie didn’t need any further explanation. She knew exactly what she was looking at.
The gate to the Upside Down.
“Jesus Christ…” Gracie breathed out, her voice barely above a whisper. Her body went cold, and she took a small step back, the reality of what was happening sinking in like a weight on her chest.
As she took another tentative step forward to get a closer look, she was suddenly shoved from behind by one of the scientists who had materialized out of nowhere. Gracie stumbled, eyes wide, and when she looked around, she realized how crowded the room had become. There were dozens of people here, scientists, technicians, lab assistants, all walking around, some glancing at the growing vines, others taking notes or running tests. The chaos and clinical coldness of the place hit her all at once, and her stomach turned.
It was worse than she imagined. This was fucked up.
Nancy was right: someone needed to expose this. Someone needed to get the word out before it was too late.
“I’d call it one hell of a mistake,” Dr. Owen said, his tone casual, almost detached as they all stood in front of the glass window, watching the men in yellow hazmat suits work.
One of the men in a suit was holding a flamethrower, spraying fire onto the weeds that grew out of the hole in the wall, reducing them to ash. The flames licked at the vines, hissing as they burned, but no matter how much they sprayed, the vines seemed to regrow, their tendrils stretching further, pressing against the glass as if trying to break free.
“You’re damn right it’s a mistake,” Nancy said bitterly, her eyes still locked on the strange, fiery battle taking place on the other side of the glass. “It’s a mistake that’s killed people, our people, and you’re just standing here like this is some science project.”
“You all are a bunch of dickheads, you know that?” Gracie murmured as she kept her eyes glued to the gate in front of her. She couldn’t believe this was where Will was being sent for checkups.
Dr. Owen ignored her remark, his attention on the window. As he continued speaking, his voice took on a more serious tone. “The thing is, we can’t seem to erase our mistake, but we can stop it from spreading.” He paused, eyes glinting with an eerie confidence. “Imagine for a moment, if you will, that a foreign state, a hostile one, like the Soviets, for example, heard about our little problem. Do you think they’d consider it a mistake? Or would they try to replicate it?”
Gracie’s stomach twisted at the thought, and she could feel Nancy and Jonathan stiffen beside her. The idea of a foreign government getting their hands on the Upside Down was beyond terrifying.
Dr. Owen continued, his voice taking on a more insistent edge. “The more attention we bring to ourselves, the more people like the Hollands know the truth, the more likely that scenario becomes. You see, I have to stop the truth from spreading. It’s just like those weeds.”
Gracie’s mouth couldn’t quite function anymore, the horrendous sight of flames set across weeds enough to block everything else out, but Dr. Owen’s words sounded like a load of bullshit to her.
steve harrington x gracie williams(eventually)
word count: 2591
summary: dustin finds a new "pet" and is excited to show it off to the rest of the party. gracie however, is a bit more concerned of the seemingly harmless creature.
"THIS BETTER BE GOOD." Gracie grumbled as she followed Dustin, who had practically dragged her, Max, and Mike into the AV room. It was lunchtime, and Dustin all but demanded she walk over from the high school to see his “surprise" immediately.
“It is, I promise,” Dustin assured her, gently setting down his Ghostbusters diy contraption in the middle of the table. He looked around at his friends’ curious faces before carefully opening the box, revealing a strange, squirming creature that emitted a high-pitched chitter.
Dustin grinned, lifting the creature into his hand. “His name is d’Artagnan,” he announced proudly.
“What the hell is that?” Gracie asked, leaning in to get a better look. It looked like some bizarre cross between a lizard and a hairless rat.
“Cute, right?” Dustin said, beaming at the group, though his enthusiasm was met with Gracie’s skeptical, disturbed stare.
“D’Artagnan?” Mike repeated, not sounding any more convinced than Gracie.
“Dart, for short,” Dustin added with a proud nod.
“And he was just... in your trash?” Max asked, giving Dustin a look that hovered between disbelief and amusement.
“Foraging for food,” Dustin clarified as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Without waiting for a response, he extended Dart toward Max. “You wanna hold him?”
Max wrinkled her nose but took the slimy creature, holding him at arm’s length. “Oh, God, he’s slimy!” she said, passing it quickly to Lucas.
“Ugh, he’s like a living booger,” Lucas muttered, scrunching up his nose before handing it off to Gracie.
“Ew, ew, ew—get it off, get it off!” Gracie gasped, quickly sliding Dart onto Will’s hands, who looked equally horrified and passed him on to Mike.
Mike held Dart closer, peering at the creature with a mix of fascination and disgust. “What... exactly is he?”
“Good question,” Dustin replied, grinning triumphantly. “At first, I thought he might be some kind of pollywog.” He slapped a couple of hefty biology books onto the table for effect.
“Pollywog?” Max asked, unfamiliar with the term.
“It’s another word for ‘tadpole,’” Gracie explained, looking skeptically at Dustin. “But, Dustin, there is no way that thing’s a tadpole.”
“Yeah, I know!” Dustin continued, undeterred. “Because guess what? Dart doesn’t need water!”
“Are there non-aquatic tadpoles, though?” Lucas asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Terrestrial pollywogs?” Dustin said thoughtfully. “Yep. Two types. Indirana semipalmata from India, and Adenomera andreae from South America. But how did one of them end up in my trash?”
“Maybe some scientists brought it here, and it escaped?” Max offered with a shrug. Considering the certain scientists Gracie knew were no stranger to Hawkins, Max’s guess didn’t seem entirely impossible.
Mike leaned in again, his eyes narrowing. “Do you guys see that?” He pointed at Dart, catching everyone’s attention. “It looks like... something’s moving inside of him.”
Gracie adjusted the desk lamp closer for a better look, and as the light hit Dart, the creature let out a shrill screech, making everyone jump back in shock. Dustin quickly moved the lamp away, concern flickering across his face.
“And there’s another thing,” Dustin explained, regaining his composure. “Reptiles—they’re cold-blooded, ectothermic. They love heat, right? But Dart? He hates it. It hurts him.”
“So, if he’s not a pollywog... or a reptile...” Lucas trailed off, exchanging an uncertain glance with the others.
“Then I’ve discovered a new species,” Dustin concluded, grinning as if he’d struck gold.
But Gracie’s expression didn’t match his enthusiasm. She couldn’t shake the feeling that this “discovery” wasn’t as innocent or exciting as Dustin thought.
------
“So, he asked you guys to take me home?” Nancy asked, glancing at Jonathan and Gracie as they sat together on the hood of his car in the student parking lot.
Before Gracie could say a word, Jonathan jumped in with a nod. “Yeah. He was upset. Really upset. But he was still worried about you.”
Gracie shot him a quick look, knowing that wasn’t exactly what happened. Jonathan offered to take Nancy home of his own accord, but Gracie kept quiet, finding it sweet that he was trying to make the girl feel better.
Nancy, who had just come back from a brutal fight with Steve, looked away, her expression tight with frustration and sadness. Gracie wasn’t sure if the two officially broken up, but it wasn't looking good. Reaching over, she put a comforting hand on Nancy’s shoulder. “You need to cut yourself some slack, okay?”
“Yeah, people say stupid things when they’re wasted,” Jonathan agreed. “Things they don’t mean.”
Nancy cut them off with a quiet, bitter laugh. “Yeah, but what if I did mean it?”
Gracie’s heart sank at that. She’d known Nancy long enough to recognize the truth in her voice. But she stayed silent, not wanting to rub salt in the wound.
“All this time, I’ve been trying so hard to pretend like everything’s fine, but it’s not,” Nancy confessed, staring down at her shoes. “I… I feel like there’s this… I don’t know, like this…”
“Like there’s this weight you’re carrying around with you,” Jonathan finished, and the three of them fell silent, each lost in their own thoughts.
Nancy sighed, running a hand through her hair. “All the time.”
“I feel it, too,” Jonathan said softly. Gracie hugged her knees, shivering as a cold breeze blew through the lot.
“Yeah, but it’s different for you,” Nancy pointed out. “Will came home.”
“Yeah… yeah, he did.” Jonathan’s voice was low, almost hollow. “But he’s not the same. I try to be there for him, to help him. And I know you do too, Gracie, but…”
“He’s not the same,” Gracie murmured, her heart heavy as memories of Halloween flashed in her mind—Will, terrified and curled up on the floor.
Jonathan sighed, looking down. “I don’t know. Maybe… maybe things just can’t go back to the way they were.”
“Doesn’t that make you guys mad?” Nancy asked, a spark of anger flaring in her eyes.
“Mad?” Jonathan repeated, glancing at Gracie, who looked just as confused.
“Yeah. That those… those people who did this, who ruined so many lives, they just get away with it.”
“The people responsible for this… they’re dead,” Jonathan countered, but he didn’t sound convinced.
Gracie let out a dry laugh, catching his gaze. “Do you really believe that?” Silence followed because, deep down, they all knew the truth—those responsible were still out there, pulling the strings, controlling the narrative.
Suddenly, Nancy’s attention shifted, her gaze fixed on a nearby boy listening to the radio at a picnic table. She turned back to Jonathan with a glint of determination in her eyes. “Your mom’s boyfriend… he works at RadioShack, right?”
“Yeah.” Jonathan looked at her skeptically, then at Gracie, who shrugged in confusion. “Why? What are you thinking?”
Nancy’s eyes sparkled with a plan as she leaned forward. “Do you guys wanna skip fourth period?”
Gracie hopped off the hood, laughing. “As fun as whatever you two are planning sounds, I promised the Party I’d meet them to show Mr. Clarke Dustin’s ‘new species.’”
“His new what?” Nancy asked, her brow furrowing.
Gracie shook her head with a grin. “Long story. But anyway, tell me how it goes.”
“Should we be offended she’d rather hang out with our little siblings than us?” Jonathan teased, earning a laugh from Nancy.
Gracie just rolled her eyes. "Pay me and I'll consider it." She joked, knowing that she'd hang out with the party even without the money.
------
By the time Gracie had gotten to Hawkins Middle School, the halls had already cleared. On her way to Mr. Clarke's room, where she was sure the rest of the party was already gathered to show off their newfound specimen, Gracie suddenly saw Max pounding on the door of the AV room.
Confused, Gracie made her way toward her and asked, “Where is everyone?”
Rolling her eyes, Max pounded on the door again, muttering, “They’re all in there, and they won’t let me in.”
Gracie moved closer to the door and knocked twice. “Uh, guys, what’s going on?”
From the other side, she could hear hushed arguing. Then Mike’s voice cut through the noise, demanding, “That’s Gracie! Someone let her in.”
Before Gracie could process what was happening, the door swung open, and a hand yanked her inside, slamming the door right in Max’s face.
“Hey, what the hell?!” Gracie exclaimed. “And why are you guys making Max sit out there?” She felt bad for the girl, who was already getting the cold shoulder from the group.
But instead of answering, Mike pulled Gracie aside, his face urgent. “Gracie, Dart is from the Upside Down.”
“Allegedly!” Dustin interjected defensively.
“Allegedly?” Lucas repeated in shock. “Will literally said he saw something like him in the Upside Down!”
Turning to Will, Gracie asked, “Is this true?”
Will hesitated for a moment before answering, “Well, yeah, kinda. Except it didn’t have a tail.”
Gracie's mind raced as she tried to process everything. “We need to give it to Hopper.” She quickly concluded.
“Thank you!” Lucas said, clearly relieved to have someone on his side. “Dustin wants to keep it. Which is crazy.”
“If we give it to the police, Dart will be good as dead!” Dustin protested, his voice frantic.
“Maybe he should be,” Mike replied, crossing his arms. “He’s from the Upside Down!”
“Just because he’s from the Upside Down doesn’t mean he’s bad,” Dustin shot back, still refusing to give up on Dart.
“That’s like saying just because you’re on the Death Star doesn’t mean you’re bad,” Mike retorted.
“Death Star or not, Dart could be dangerous,” Gracie said firmly. “We’re giving him to Hopper. End of discussion.”
Before anyone could say anything else, Dustin’s Ghostbusters box began to shake, making everyone freeze in place.
“Holy shit!” Gracie gasped, grabbing a heavy textbook from a nearby table, holding it like a weapon, just in case the thing decided to attack.
“Don’t hurt it!” Dustin pleaded, still trying to defend his “pet.”
The shaking stopped for a split second, then bam—the creature jumped out of the box, sprawling itself across the floor.
“Oh shit!” someone muttered.
“Holy shit!” another voice echoed.
Gracie quickly moved to stand in front of the others, pushing the boys behind her. She gripped the textbook in a defensive position, ready to throw it if necessary. But the moment passed too quickly, just as she braced herself for what came next, the door swung open to reveal Max, her eyes wide in surprise. Before Max could even say a word, Dart took the opportunity to bolt past her and into the school hallway.
“Shit!” Gracie cursed under her breath. Dart was already gone, and the group rushed out of the AV room to find him, but he had disappeared too quickly.
Max stood there, blinking in confusion. “What the hell just happened?”
The rest of the party rushed into the hallway, eyes scanning every corner for signs of Dart. But he was nowhere to be seen.
Gracie's stomach twisted in a knot. They had really gotten themselves into some deep shit now.
———
“It’s clear in here.” Gracie said through her walkie talkie as she and Max scoured the cafeteria. Dart was no where in sight and it didn’t seem like they were getting any closer to finding him.
Coming out of the pantry, Max sighed, shaking her head at Gracie, “He’s not in there either.”
“Damn it!” Gracie groaned, smothering her face in her heads, “We’re so screwed”.
“I-I’m sorry I opened the door.” Max suddenly mumbled, looking down in guilt.
Quick to walk over to her, Gracie put a hand on her shoulder softly assuring, “Hey, it’s okay. If those guys weren’t such assholes and just let you in then this wouldn’t have happened anyways. There’s no use in putting blame.”
Softly smiling at Gracie’s response, Max nodded her head, “Thanks. You know, my brother was wrong. He said all the high school girls were cows and annoying, but you’re pretty cool.”
Laughing, Gracie shook her head fully aware of her brother’s rude reputation, “Well don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re brothers kinda an asshole.”
At this, Max laughed out loud as well, nodding her head in agreement, “Yeah, he really is.”
Seeing Max rub her elbow, Gracie looked at the girl with deep concern, “Hey, are you okay?”
Looking to where Gracie was staring, Max quickly put her arm down shrugging, “Oh yeah, don’t worry I was with Mike earlier on my skateboard and I just fell. It was like a magnet or something, I don’t know it was weird.”
“Oh.” Gracie hummed finding the incident a bit odd, “Well, let me just get you some ice for it anyway.”
Quickly going into the back of the cafeteria, Gracie remembered where they put the ice from when she was trapped here with the boys last year.
Coming out with a small bag of ice, Gracie sat Max down at a nearby table pressing the ice gently into her elbow.
“Better?” Gracie asked, earning a small nod from the girl.
“Yeah thanks.”
“So, how do you like it in Hawkins?” Gracie asked, “I can’t think it’d be anyone’s first choice to live.”
“Yeah, you could say that.” Max laughed, “But my mom wanted to start over with my step dad so…”
“Oh I see.” Gracie said in understanding, “Well, I know Hawkins isn’t some sort of destination spot but, I hope you know that you’re always welcome in our party, even if the boys are confusing about it… theres just some stuff that’s hard to explain.” Gracie tried to explain, knowing she couldn’t give away much but wanting to make Max still feel included.
Luckily, Max was happy with the girl’s answer, smiling widely in response, “Thanks, I- uh, don't really have a lot of friends so...”
“Well, now you have one more.” Gracie grinned, “Besides, having you in our group is kinda like having a celebrity. I mean, Madmax on Dig Dug? 700,000 points is insane!”
Laughing, Max blushed and shook her head, “You have no idea how long it took me to get that.”
“Yeah, well you’re gonna have to teach me how to do that someday.”
“Yeah sure.” Max nodded in excitement, the two girls laughing.
“You know- Oh shit!” Gracie was cut off midway when a sudden force suddenly a force, pulled Max off the bench she was sitting and onto the ground, and pushed Gracie to the left of the lunch table bench.
“What is happening today?” Max exclaimed in shock at what just happened. But Gracie wasn’t paying attention to Max, the feeling of being even slightly pulled back reminding her of the same force that had blown her away at the junkyard just last year. There was only one word racing through Gracie's mind.
Eleven?
Quickly standing up, Gracie looked towards the door of the cafeteria, seeing if she could spot who she thought was there. Quickly walking towards the door, Gracie heard Max mumbling, “Why do her and Mike keeping doing that?”
But Gracie wasn’t listening. Running to the door now, she swung it open to reveal an empty hallway, and her heart dropped.
But before Gracie could even process her disappointment, Dustin suddenly called Gracie's name, calling her from the other side of the hall. Snapping her neck to see Dustin, the boy seemed more panicked than Gracie had ever seen.
"Gracie, outside now! Somethings wrong with Will!"
steve harrington x gracie williams(eventually)
word count: 5125
summary: gracie is caught up at a busy halloween night juggling with her little ghostbuster's, will's night terrors, and high school parties(which she thinks are a bunch of bullshit). still, she ends her night on the most surprising note of all.
"YOU'VE GOT TO BE SHITTING ME." Gracie mumbled harshly. "What do you mean they're selling their house?"
"This new detective..." Nancy sighed, clenching her fists in distress. "He says he can find Barb."
"On what leads?" Gracie asked, bewildered. "Last time I checked, the U.S. government is pretty good at keeping their super top-secret experiment casualties forgotten."
"Keep your voice down!" Steve hissed, glancing around to make sure no one had overheard.
In hushed whispers, the two girl discussed the disturbing news, as Steve jerked his around to make sure no one was listening. The three were all in the library, suppose to be studying but school was the last thing on anybody's minds since Nancy had found out that Barb's parents were about to sell their house to try and find their "lost" daughter. Her and Steve had gone to Barb's house for dinner with their dead friend's parents last night. Usually, Gracie and Nancy went together but the visits proved too much to bear, constantly having to pretend that they were as hopeful for Barb's return as her parents. So, the girls took turns now. Unlike Gracie however, Nancy had Steve to comfort her on her visits.
Glaring at Steve, Gracie turned back to Nancy. "What are we gonna do?"
"I-I don't know." Nancy shook her head. "I mean, maybe... maybe we should tell them the truth—"
"We can't!" Steve interrupted, his eyes wide. "Are you crazy?"
"So what, then?" Gracie asked. "We just let Barb's parents ruin their lives and sell their house looking for their dead daughter?"
"It's not our decision to make!" Steve argued.
"Like hell it isn't!" Gracie snapped, her voice rising enough to attract a few turned heads, though they quickly went back to their own work.
Scoffing, Steve shook his head in disbelief. "You can't be serious right now. We are not telling Barb's parents anything, that's final."
Crossing her arms, Gracie cut off Nancy was surely about to say something to try and ease the tension obviously building. "That's final?" Gracie mocked, rolling her eyes, "As if your final word means shit to me.” Gracie scoffed, not believing the nerve on him.
"Gracie, this isn't some sort of joke okay? If anyone found out we were even talking about this-" Steve suddenly stopped himself, noticing that they were still in public, dropping his voice an octave lower, he whispered, "who knows what they'll do to us, or our families."
"And what about Barbara's family?" Gracie shot back, "Who's gonna look out for them?"
"Stop being so damn stubborn." Steve demanded harshly, only making Gracie scoff again.
"Stop being so damn selfish." Gracie returned, narrowing her eyes, "Barb's parents are about to lose their fucking house on a dead end, and you just want going to let them." Gracie was being more and more consumed by anger and guilt for what happened to Barbara. This was the issue she had with Harrington these days, he just wanted to forget. Easy for him to say given that he didn't even know Barbara.
"Hey I'm not the one being selfish here okay?" Steve argued, matching the girl's irritation, "You're the one who's letting her own feelings risk the safety of everyone else."
"Oh am I risking your safety Harrington?" Gracie mocked, "Or am I just ruining your fantasy where we pretend that everything is okay."
"Pretending is better than what you're suggesting." Steve shot back, her comment hitting closer to home that she knew, "We all need to move on."
"Easy for you to say Harrington." Gracie replied coldly, "You barely knew her."
"Which is why I'm not acting on emotions like you." Steve answered callously, "Seriously, you're being really stupid right now Williams."
At this, Steve and Gracie reached a standoff, each absorbed in a staring contest. Yes, she was deeply irritated by Steve's harsh words, but she was more upset by how right he was. She knew they couldn’t tell Barb’s parents anything, and even talking about it out loud was dangerous. But the helplessness she felt, watching two innocent people about to lose more than they already had, was unbearable. And it didn't help that Steve since last year had made it his mission to ignore the trauma they've all been through. As she stared furiously at Steve, Gracie could feel her blood pressure rising, her whole body tense with frustration. She took a deep breath and shook her head, beginning to gather her things.
"Gracie, don't go," Nancy whispered, hoping to keep the fragile peace between her best friend and Steve.
Shaking her head, Gracie slung her backpack over her shoulder. "No, I should get going anyway. I've gotta pick up the boys from the middle school."
She gave Nancy a guilty smile, feeling slightly bad for leaving so soon after they had sat down, but she needed to be anywhere else but there. Glaring at Steve, she promptly turned around with out saying anything to him. It was obvious that while they didn’t hate each other, it didn’t really seem like they could even stand to talk to another for very long.
“Always good talking to you Williams.” Steve dryly said rolling his eyes. But Gracie didn’t turn back around, simply giving him the middle finger as she walked out of the library.
-------
Gracie pulled into the student parking lot and quickly hopped into her car. She started the engine, the old vehicle sputtering to life, and made her way to the middle school. As she approached the pick-up line, her eyes immediately landed on her boys—Mike, Lucas, Dustin, and Will—all dressed in Ghostbusters costumes. Despite Gracie's insistence that no one else would be dressing up for school, they'd been too excited to care.
Grinning, she honked the horn and rolled down the window. "Get in, losers!" she playfully demanded.
The boys rushed over and piled into the car, but as Gracie glanced in the rearview mirror, she noticed the defeated looks on their faces. With a sigh, she adjusted the mirror and pulled out of the middle school lot.
"No one wore costumes to school, huh?" She asked, knowing that was probably why they were upset.
"They all did last year, though!" Mike protested immediately.
"Did they all have a meeting or something?" Lucas asked, equally perplexed.
Laughing, Gracie shook her head. "Definetely. They all got together and decided to be lame."
She looked in the mirror again, her heart sinking as she saw how upset they still were. Trying to cheer them up, she smiled. "Don't let the other kids get you down. Your costumes look badass."
The boys perked up a little at that, Lucas nodding. "It’s Ghostbusters! Of course, it’s badass."
"Of course," Gracie agreed with a grin as she turned onto a road that cut through the forest, "But why are there two Venkmans?"
"Don't get them started." Will sighed, having heard Mike and Lucas bicker about it all day.
"Guys, is it just me, or is that car coming really close?" Lucas suddenly asked, his head peeking out the window.
Gracie glanced in the rearview mirror and felt her stomach drop. The car behind them was closing in fast. Her eyes widened when she recognized the driver—the new kid at school, grinning as if he found this all hilarious.
The revving engine caught the boys’ attention, and Will stuck his head out the window. "He's going like 70 miles an hour!"
Gracie's mind raced, unsure of what the kid was trying to do, but one thing was clear: that car wasn’t slowing down.
"Shit!" she cursed, slamming her foot down on the gas. But her car, old and beat-up, couldn’t match the speed of the one behind her. Checking the rearview again, Gracie caught a glimpse of the passenger—a young redheaded girl, looking terrified. Gracie recognized her as the same girl the boys had stalked earlier. But she barely had time to think of such trivial details being that the car behind her began to speed up even more.
"Gracie, haul ass!" Mike shouted as the boys began to panic.
Gracie pushed the gas pedal to the floor, the engine groaning in protest as they sped down the empty road. The car behind them was practically on their tail, the driver speeding just enough to avoid crashing into them.
"Shit! Shit! Shit!" Dustin exclaimed, his eyes widening as he saw a sharp turn ahead.
Gracie spotted it too, and her heart skipped a beat. If she tried to take that corner with the other car so close, they’d all crash for sure. Without hesitation, she jerked the wheel hard, sending them barreling off the road into a nearby clearing.
"Holy shit!" Lucas yelled as the car bumped and lurched over the uneven ground. The boys screamed in unison, clutching onto anything they could as Gracie fought to regain control.
Gracie slammed on the brakes just in time, bringing the car to a stop without hitting any trees. Her hands were shaking as she glanced in the rearview mirror again, watching as the other car sped off and made a sharp left turn, disappearing down the road.
Furious, Gracie rolled down her window and stuck her head out, honking the horn furiously. "Asshole!" she yelled, her voice echoing into the forest.
She turned back around, her heart still pounding, and quickly checked on the boys. "Are you all okay?" she asked, breathless.
They nodded, though still stunned. Dustin clutched his chest, trying to calm his racing heart, while the others remained silent for a moment, still processing what had just happened.
Finally, Will broke the silence. "Was that...?"
"Mad Max," they all finished in unison.
-----------
"I'm confused; I thought you got your license. Why am I driving again?" Jonathan asked, glancing over at Gracie as he, Will, and she all sat in the car, ready to go trick-or-treating.
Shaking her head, Gracie ran her hands through her hair. "Because I am never driving again," she explained. "Not after today."
Will nodded, thinking back to earlier when Billy had almost run them over. "It was crazy! This car just sped down the street, trying to crash into us."
"What an asshole," Jonathan said, shaking his head in shock.
"That's what I said!" Gracie exclaimed, still visibly shaken. "And so, I’m never driving again."
"Well, you're going to have to eventually," Jonathan said, amused.
"Says who?" Gracie asked, raising an eyebrow. "We've survived before on just bikes."
Will shook his head quickly. "Please, no. I can't go back to bikes. That's way too much pedaling."
As the three laughed, Will and Jonathan began talking about some new song by The Clash. Gracie however, remained quiet, the pit in her stomach growing once more. It had been hours since she had fought with Steve in the morning and despite the night falling, she couldn't shake her sour mood, which was temporarily relieved by having almost been crashed and killed by Madmax and her brother.
Now, it reappeared ten fold, which slightly perplexed her as she'd fought with Steve before but after having it out, she'd quickly let it go minutes after. But the aftertaste the nasty words they had exchanged could still be felt and Gracie couldn't help but feel remorse, guilt, and regret build up within her.
She knew it was because for what may have been the first time among her many fights with Steve, she might have been in the wrong. Steve was just trying to protect everyone, even if part of it was because it was easier to just try and forget. She shouldn't blame him for being able to do something that she couldn't.
Seeing her lost in her own thoughts, Jonathan cleared his throat asking, "Earth to Gracie?"
Jerking up slightly, Gracie quickly recovered, giving a sheepish smile to the Byer boys. "Sorry. Just... spaced out." Wanting to change the subject, Gracie asked, "So, how's your mom's new guy doing?"
Jonathan shrugged. "I just don’t get what she sees in him."
Will quietly chimed in, looking down. "At least he doesn’t treat me different."
Gracie and Jonathan both frowned, picking up on Will’s sadness. "What do you mean?" Jonathan asked, his tone soft.
"I mean, I can’t even go trick-or-treating by myself," Will mumbled, looking embarrassed. "It's lame."
Jonathan looked taken aback. "What? You think I’m lame?" he asked, trying to keep the mood light. "What about Gracie?"
Shaking his head, Will replied, "Gracie’s different; she’s apart of the party. But it’s not like Nancy’s coming along to watch over Mike, you know?"
Jonathan exchanged a look with Gracie, both of them silently acknowledging Will's feelings. Gracie pulled a crumpled flyer from her pocket and handed it to Jonathan—a flyer for Tina’s Halloween Bash. Jonathan looked at it and nodded, understanding the unspoken suggestion.
He turned back to Will. "Hey, listen. If I let you go on your own, do you promise to stay in the neighborhood?"
Will's eyes widened with excitement. "Yeah! Yeah, totally!"
"And be back at Mike’s by 9:00," Jonathan said firmly, smiling at the pleased look on his brother's face.
"9:30?" Will tried to negotiate.
"9:00," Gracie interjected with a grin, backing up Jonathan.
Jonathan handed his video camera to Will. "Hey, don’t let any of your spazzy friends use this, all right? Including Gracie," he teased.
Gracie gasped mockingly. "Excuse me!"
As the two got out of Jonathan's car, he called after them with a grin. "Gracie, you’d better come to the party afterward, too."
"Oh, I think I'll be too tired—" Gracie began.
"No buts!" Jonathan cut her off playfully. "If you make me suffer, we all suffer."
Gracie laughed and nodded. "Okay, fine, Byers. See you later, then."
As Jonathan drove off, Gracie sighed at the thought of the party but brushed it aside as Dustin’s loud shout interrupted her thoughts.
"Gracie! Let’s get going!"
Turning around, Gracie found the group of boys waiting for her, with Dustin tapping his foot impatiently. Rolling her eyes, she walked over to join them. "Yeah, yeah, let’s get going," she said, playfully mumbling as they all excitedly walked down the street, ready for a night of trick-or-treating.
They’d already hit ten houses and were making their way down the second block. The last house was an older woman’s, who had called the boys “cute little exterminators,” which made the boys groan but left Gracie laughing.
"If I get another 3 Musketeers, I’m gonna kill myself," Lucas groaned, looking through his candy bag.
"What’s wrong with 3 Musketeers?" Will asked, genuinely confused.
"No one likes 3 Musketeers," Lucas argued as Mike nodded in agreement. "It’s just nougat."
"Whoa. Just nougat?" Dustin exclaimed, appalled. "It’s top three for me."
"Top three?" Lucas said incredulously. "Oh, God, give me a break."
"Seriously, I could eat a whole bowl of nougat," Dustin insisted. Gracie laughed, not doubting him for a second. But before the conversation could go on, a sudden growl erupted from behind them. A masked figure in a bloody costume appeared, startling them all.
Everyone screamed, jumping back in shock as the figure laughed and pulled off her mask. "Holy shit! You should’ve seen the look on your faces!" Max said, grinning widely. She looked at Lucas and teased, "And you? Who screams like that? You sound like a little girl."
Gracie immediately recognized Max as "Mad Max," the one who had nearly run them over earlier and who Dustin and Lucas had been obsessing over. Turning on her heel, Max walked ahead, calling over her shoulder, "Hey, you guys coming or not? I heard we should hit up Loch Nora. That’s where the rich people live, right?"
Lucas and Dustin exchanged looks, grinning before running to catch up with her. Gracie watched them with a smile, finding it cute that both boys had taken a liking to her. She just hoped it wouldn’t become a problem between them later.
As the group walked on, Gracie noticed Mike hanging back, looking sullen. Slowing her pace, she caught up with him. "And what’s wrong with you?" she asked.
Mike glanced at her, his face twisted in a frown. "Did you guys agree to this?"
"Agree to what?" Will asked, looking just as confused as Gracie.
"To her joining our party," Mike clarified, nodding toward Lucas, Dustin, and Max up ahead.
"It’s just for Halloween," Will shrugged, not seeing the issue.
"You should’ve checked with me," Mike muttered, clearly upset.
Will shrugged again. "They were excited. I thought you’d be okay with it."
"She’s ruining the best night of the year," Mike grumbled.
Gracie put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Don’t be like that, Mike. They have a crush. I think it’s cute."
"It’s gross," Mike retorted, making Gracie roll her eyes.
"That’s exactly what Lucas and Dustin said about you and Eleven last year," she pointed out.
"That’s different!" Mike insisted, blushing.
"Uh, no it's not." Gracie said giving him a stern look. Seeing how upset he was though, she softened her tone. "Look, I know it’s hard without Eleven. But remember, we all took a chance on her last year, and none of us would change a thing. So if Lucas and Dustin want to take a chance with Max and expand the party, I think you should give it a shot, too. Don't you think?"
Mike looked down, his expression softening. After a moment, he groaned, reluctantly giving in, "I guess so."
"That’s all I ask." Gracie smiled, ruffling his hair.
Just then, her heart skipped a beat as she looked up and realized Will was gone. She froze. "Where’s Will?"
Mike’s eyes widened, and they both began scanning the street, calling his name.
"Will!"
"Will!" Gracie continued calling, her voice growing more frantic as they searched.
Finally, she spotted him, curled up against the back of a nearby house. She and Mike ran to his side, both immediately bending down. Will was breathing heavily, as if caught in the middle of a panic attack.
"Will!" Mike shouted, shaking his shoulders gently as Gracie tried to calm him down. "Will, we’re here. You’re okay."
After a tense moment, Will snapped out of it, his wide, frightened eyes meeting theirs.
"Will, what’s wrong?" Gracie asked, worry etched across her face. "Are you hurt?"
Will didn’t respond, still catching his breath, looking disoriented. Just then, Lucas and Dustin arrived, concern written on their faces.
"Is he okay?" Lucas asked, glancing at Mike, who just shook his head, uncertain.
Gracie took a steadying breath, then turned to Will, her voice gentle but firm. "I’m taking you home, okay? Just hold on." She helped him to his feet with Mike’s assistance. "You’re safe. We’ll get you home."
Thankfully, Will was able to walk now, allowing Gracie and Mike to safely bring him back to Mike's basement. Gracie, not wanting to ruin Lucas and Dustin's night, told them to continue trick-or-treating, which they reluctantly did. She knew she would need to look into Max a bit more, especially considering her brother had nearly run them over, but she kept an open mind, thinking it wouldn’t be the worst thing to expand the group.
For now, though, her top priority was to make sure Will was okay. Sitting him down on the basement couch, Gracie and Mike gave him some time to calm down before they started talking.
“It’s like… like I’m stuck,” Will began, stammering as he tried to find the right words to explain his terrible situation.
“Like… stuck in the Upside Down?” Mike asked, both he and Gracie confused.
Will sighed, shaking his head. “No. You know on a View-Master, when it gets, like…”
“Caught between two slides?” Gracie filled in, and Will immediately nodded.
“Yeah, like that. Like one side’s our world, and the other… the other slide is the Upside Down. And… and there was this noise coming from everywhere. And then I saw something.”
“The Demogorgon?” Mike asked, but Will shook his head.
“No. It was like this huge shadow in the sky. Only, it was alive. And it was coming for me.” Will admitted, and Gracie immediately placed a hand on his shoulder, seeing how scared he was even talking about his visions.
“Is this all real?” Mike asked. “Or is it, like the doctors say, all in your head?”
“I don’t know,” Will admitted, looking down in despair. “Just… just please don’t tell the others, okay? They won’t understand.”
“Of course,” Gracie assured him quickly. “It stays here.”
“Eleven would,” Mike sighed, reminiscing about the friend they’d made the year before.
“She would?” Will asked, curious, as he had never met her.
Mike nodded, smiling. “Yeah. She always did. Sometimes I feel like I still see her. Like she’s still around, but she never is.” He paused, and Gracie noted his sadness. “I don’t know. Sometimes I feel like I’m going crazy.”
“It’s okay, Mike,” Gracie said gently. “I get what you mean. It’s like we miss her so much… it’s hard to believe she’s gone.”
In truth, Gracie wasn’t entirely convinced Eleven was truly gone. Whether it was the government or just her running away, Gracie held onto hope that maybe Eleven had just disappeared.
“It’s hard not to go crazy after what we’ve all been through,” Gracie said to both boys, trying to comfort them.
“If we’re all going crazy, then we’ll go crazy together, right?” Mike said, prompting light laughter from all three of them. Suddenly, the basement telephone rang.
Gracie picked it up. “Hello?” She asked, immediately hearing loud music and whooping from the other side of the phone
“Gracie?” Jonathan asked, sounding relieved. “Thank God you picked up. Look, I know you said you’d come to the party, but I think you should come now.”
“Why, what happened?” Gracie asked, wondering how many fires she’d have to put out tonight.
“It’s Nancy… I don’t think she’s gonna be feeling too good in about twenty minutes.”
------
Gracie was greeted by the thumping beat of Girls on Film and a strong stench of alcohol as she entered Tina’s Halloween Bash. She quickly scanned the room, looking for any familiar faces, and thankfully heard Jonathan call her name from the side. Spotting him near the kitchen waving her over, she made her way to him, narrowly avoiding being jostled by several partygoers.
“Hey,” Gracie greeted, only to be slightly pushed against the kitchen island by someone dressed as a vampire. Glaring at the stranger, she turned back to Jonathan and quickly asked, “How’s Nance doing?”
Nudging his head to the far end of the kitchen near a large punch bowl, Jonathan replied, “You tell me.”
Gracie sighed when she spotted Nancy chugging what definitely wasn’t her first cup of the questionable punch. “Oh god,” she muttered, making her way over.
“Hey, Nance,” she greeted, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. “How are you feeling?”
“Gracie!” Nancy cheered, completely ignoring the question. “You came!”
“I came,” Gracie repeated, gently placing a hand behind Nancy, who wobbled a bit. “How are you feeling?” she asked again.
This time, Nancy replied, but her smile didn’t reach her eyes either. Despite the alcohol, her expression made it clear she was anything but okay. “Oh, great,” she said with a curt nod. “Just absolutely great.”
Before Gracie could respond, Nancy turned back to the punch bowl to refill her cup. Just as Gracie moved to stop her, Steve appeared beside them, reaching for the cup before she could.
“No, no, no,” he said, grabbing the cup from Nancy.
“Get off!” Nancy snapped, snatching it back.
Gracie stepped in, placing a gentle hand on Nancy’s shoulder. “Nancy, I think you’ve had enough for tonight.”
Nancy jerked away, glaring. “Screw you!”
Gracie stepped back, stunned by Nancy’s hostility. Steve, noticing her hurt expression, turned back to his girlfriend, sighing, “Nance, I’m serious.” He tried to pull the cup back from her. “Hey. Hey. Hey. Stop. No, I’m serious. Put it down.”
“No!” Nancy protested, yanking the cup back. She pulled a bit too hard, spilling the red liquid all over her white blouse, gasping in shock.
As onlookers murmured and laughed, Nancy glared at Steve. “What the hell?”
Without waiting for Steve’s apology, which he quickly stammered out, she pushed past Gracie and stormed into the nearby bathroom to clean up.
Steve followed her, leaving Gracie alone in the kitchen. The party quickly resumed, most too drunk to care about what had just happened. Gracie returned to Jonathan, who gave her a reassuring smile. “She’ll be fine,” he assured.
Gracie nodded. “I know she will. I just… I just hope she doesn’t feel too hungover in the morning.” She glanced at Jonathan’s outfit, laughing. “Nice costume,” she teased, noticing his lack of one.
“Yeah, I’m going as a guy who hates parties.”
"That's so funny!" Gracie sarcastically exclaimed, "Because I'm going as a girl who hates parties."
Their laughter was cut short by the sound of the bathroom door slamming. They turned to see an upset Steve walking out of the house.
“That didn’t look good,” Jonathan said.
“Yeah, no kidding,” Gracie replied dryly.
Jonathan’s face turned serious. “Should we take Nancy home now?”
Gracie smiled, warmed by his concern. He really did care for her, and Gracie couldn’t help but root for him. Following him toward the bathroom, she found Nancy still trying to wipe the red punch off her shirt. Jonathan guided her out of the house, and the three of them stepped into the cold October night. As they walked toward Jonathan’s car, parked about a block away, Gracie’s gaze fell on a familiar figure leaning against a BMW, smoking a cigarette.
Sighing at the sight of Steve’s defeated expression, Gracie halted, catching Jonathan’s attention.
“Gracie, what’s wrong?” he asked, adjusting to better support Nancy, who leaned heavily against him.
“I… I think I’m gonna check on Steve,” she said, feeling a strange sense of obligation. She had after all broken their streak of not fighting since last Christmas. Plus, it didn't seem right that while Nancy had two people to help her home, Steve only had one. A bit confused, but nonetheless too focused on getting Nancy home first, Jonathan nodded.
After saying goodbye, Gracie turned toward Steve, who hadn’t noticed her approach. Walking up to the BMW, she crossed her arms in her signature, sassy manner. “Smoking kills, you know?” She said, alluding to when he had said the exact same thing to her about a year ago.
Recognizing his own reference but not in the mood for their usual snarky banter, Steve looked up at her and scoffed, taking another drag. “I'm not in the mood right now Williams.” He was sure she was here to berate the boy for just leaving Nancy alone, which he did regret, but was too hurt at the time to not have slammed the bathroom door in his girlfriend's face.
But that wasn't Gracie's prerogative at all, although it did cross her mind to mention. No, she was here to make amends and hopefully, comfort Harrington. Two goals she'd never thought would be on her checklist. “Mind spotting me one?” Gracie asked, her voice softening at the clear hurt and anger in his expression.
“I think I'm too damn selfish to share anything.” Steve replied coolly, repeating the insult Gracie had thrown his way this morning, making it clear that he remembered their dispute in the library very clearly.
Wincing, Gracie admitted, "I guess I deserve that. Look I was a dick today in the library. And while you weren't completely in the right either... I'm sorry." She admitted, the apology being slightly hard to say to Steve.
Turning back to look at her, Steve was bit surprised at her words. He watched her in brief silence before handing her a cigarette and a lighter, silently accepting her apology. To be honest, he felt pretty badly about their fight earlier too. The second he called her stupid, he had known he'd taken it a bit far. Leaning against the car beside him, she lit it and took a puff.
They sat in comfortable silence, each taking in the calm of the chilly night. Finally, Gracie broke the silence. “I don’t know what she said, but she didn’t mean it, you know.”
Steve let out a dry laugh. “How do you even know she said anything to me, huh?”
“Come on Harrington” Gracie sighed, as she looked to her side at him. "Are you really gonna try and tell me she didn't?" They both knew Nancy was the reason for his mood. Gracie knew no one else that had the pull that Nancy had on Steve Harrington.
Laughing without an ounce of humor, Steve replied, "No, I'm not." Taking another drag, Steve looked down at his feet. “She was just so angry at me,” he admitted quietly, not wanting to go into detail, though Gracie seemed to understand.
“I think she’s angry at everyone,” Gracie sighed, empathizing. “Especially herself.” Gracie knew better than anyone what Nancy was going through. The guilt both felt for breaking their promises with Barbara. She was dead, and they both knew that if they'd been there for her she wouldn't have been. Gracie could even understand why Nancy might have lashed out on Steve, given he'd always been the one to try and tell her to "move on" about her dead best friend. And while he thought he was being helpful, Gracie too had always been irritated by it. But as she stood beside the boy now, she couldn't help but feel anything but pity for him. It seemed like Nancy spent no exhaust sugar coating her words to him.
Steve exhaled slowly, clearly struggling with his emotions. “I don’t know what to do.” he murmured, gazing off into the distance. "Maybe I should just forgive her you know? Pretend this never happened."
Gracie was quiet for a moment, not entirely sure of what Nancy had said to him, but understanding how hurt he felt. “Look,” she finally said, “I don't know exactly what she said to you but she obviously really hurt you. And you have the right to feel that way. I mean- if you guys really love each other, then you should fight about it. Don’t just shove it all under the rug. That's a load of bullshit, and you know it.”
At that, Steve looked over at her, watching as she took another puff. He knew she didn't understand the irony or gravity of her words but it hit him hard anyways. Looking at her with an indescribable expression, he couldn’t help but whole heartedly agree. “Yeah, that is a load of bullshit.”
steve harrington x gracie williams(eventually)
word count: 4.1k
summary: its the start of a new school year and instead of beating demogorgans the party's new goal is to beat the newest high score on dig dug.
"GRACIE DO YOU COPY?"
Gracie grabbed her super com from the passenger seat, keeping one hand on the steering wheel. She extended the antenna to respond, her eyes focused on the road ahead.
"Yeah, I copy," Gracie replied, smoothly turning right as she placed both hands back on the wheel. That’s right, after three years of babysitting, saving up, and working summer jobs, Gracie had finally scrounged enough money to buy herself a car. Sure, it was used and pretty beat up, but it got the job done.
"What's your haul?" Dustin's voice crackled through the super com. Gracie could hear him rustling around on the other side, probably trying to gather up all the loose change he could find.
"That's for me to know and for you to find out," Gracie smirked, earning a groan from Dustin.
"Can you just hurry up?" he asked impatiently. "I don't want to wait to play Dig Dug."
"Yeah, yeah," Gracie replied, rolling her eyes as she took another turn. "I'm almost there."
After a couple more blocks, Gracie pulled up to Dustin's house. She honked the horn, and soon enough, Dustin came out, closing the door behind him. He approached the car, and Gracie rolled down the window, frowning as he deadpanned, "You're late."
Rolling her eyes, Gracie waved him off. "Just get in, shithead." Dustin flipped her off but still grinned as he climbed into the passenger seat. Gracie started the car again and pulled away from the curb.
As she drove, Dustin returned to the topic at hand. "So, what did you bring?"
"Like I said, it's a surprise," Gracie replied, keeping her haul a secret. Soon, they pulled up to the Wheeler's house. Gracie reached for her super com to call Mike, but paused when she saw the scene unfolding outside her window. Mike was sprinting out of the side gate, clutching his sister’s savings in one hand, with Nancy hot on his tail.
Mike dashed toward the car and jumped into the backseat, slamming the door behind him. "Drive!" he exclaimed, and Gracie didn’t waste a second, pressing her foot on the accelerator.
In the side mirror, Gracie caught sight of Nancy throwing her hands up in exasperation, yelling, "Asshole!"
Wincing, Gracie reminded herself to apologize to Nancy later for assisting in the robbery. "Seriously, Mike?" she asked, casting an unimpressed glance over her shoulder. "Stealing?"
"I forgot we were going tonight!" Mike defended himself, out of breath. "I didn’t have time to look around."
Crossing his arms, Mike shot a narrow-eyed glare at Dustin. "Hey, you said I could have shotgun since you took it last time!"
"Don't be a baby," Dustin retorted. The boys continued to bicker, but Gracie tuned them out, focusing on driving.
A few minutes later, Gracie pulled up to Lucas's house. Lucas was already waiting on the doorstep, and he quickly hopped into the car, settling in beside Mike. "Took you long enough," he mumbled, earning a playful middle finger from Gracie.
"Just be lucky I'm taking you ingrates in the first place," she scolded, steering the car toward the main town.
"Bull!" Mike exclaimed, "You go because you love Dig Dug!"
Gracie didn’t deny it, simply shrugging in response. "Whatever. Anyway, what’s your haul?" she asked, curious to see how much she had beaten them by.
"Four quarters," Dustin admitted, prompting Lucas to burst out laughing. Crossing his arms and chuckling, Lucas smirked at Dustin. Dustin glared at him. "Well, how much did you bring?"
"Take your puny haul and multiply it by five," Lucas boasted, causing Dustin and Mike to gape in shock.
"How?" Mike asked, suddenly self-conscious about the amount he had swiped from his sister.
"While you guys were scrounging around like homeless bums, I mowed Old Man Humphrey's lawn," Lucas explained smugly.
"Old Man Humphrey’s got that kind of cash?" Gracie asked, surprised. "What about you, Mike?"
Shrugging, Mike dug into his pocket, beginning to count the crumpled bills and loose change he had snatched. "I don't know, I just grabbed what I could before Nancy chased me out."
Gracie grinned mischievously. "Well, you all can suck it," she said, reaching into her bag and pulling out a small pouch. "Because I brought the mother lode."
She tossed the heavy bag of quarters to the backseat, and Lucas caught it, his eyes widening at the sheer weight. "Holy shit, Gracie!" Lucas grinned, eyes gleaming.
"What? How much is it?" Dustin asked, craning his neck to peer into the bag.
"One hundred quarters," Gracie smirked, watching with satisfaction as the boys broke into excited clamors.
"How the hell did you get this much cash?" Mike asked, snatching the bag from Lucas to inspect it himself.
"Now that I’m not saving for a car, I’ve got nowhere to put all my babysitting money... except for college... but whatever, I like Dig Dug," Gracie shrugged, pulling into the parking lot of the arcade.
Right on time, Joyce's car pulled up beside them. The boys and Gracie quickly got out, eager to greet their friend. Gracie had offered to take Will, but Joyce had the night off and wanted to bring him herself. Gracie couldn’t blame her—after what happened to Will last year, she and Jonathan barely let him out of their sight.
"Will!" the boys exclaimed in unison, rushing to meet him as he stepped out of the car. They wasted no time, quickly making their way into the arcade, ready to dive into their games.
Gracie hung back for a moment, ruffling Will's hair as he passed. She then leaned down to Joyce’s window, offering a smile. "I can take him back home if you’d like."
Joyce nodded, returning the smile. "Thanks dear. That'd be great." Despite her approval, Gracie could see Joyce's mind was elsewhere, her eyes darting toward the arcade as if to keep Will within her sight.
Noticing her concern, Gracie placed a reassuring hand on Joyce's shoulder. "I won’t let him out of my sight. I promise."
Joyce turned to face Gracie, her expression softening as she saw the determination and sincerity in the younger girl’s eyes. "I know you won’t, honey," she said, her voice full of trust.
For a moment, Gracie was silent, touched by Joyce's reassurance, though still not entirely convinced. The guilt of that night still weighed heavily on her—she hadn’t done her job right, and Will had paid the price. Nothing could ever change the guilt she felt for letting him bike home alone. But one thing was for sure. Gracie had learned from that night, and she would never make the same mistake again.
------
The arcade buzzed with excitement as the party dove into Dragon's Lair. An hour had flown by since they arrived, and Dustin was up next, intensely focused on the game. Gracie and Lucas stood nearby, secretly hoping he wouldn’t surpass their scores.
“Oh, Jesus!” Dustin exclaimed, frantically moving the joystick as his character faced a new challenge. “I’m in uncharted territory here, guys.”
“Down! Down! Down!” Mike barked orders, all four of them crowding around Dustin, their eyes glued to the screen, willing him to succeed.
“I’m going! I’m going!” Dustin gritted his teeth, determined to make it to the next level. But it was no use. The dragon on the screen breathed fire, and Dustin’s avatar crumpled in defeat. The arcade's bright lights seemed to dim as the party's hopeful cheers turned into collective groans.
“No. No! No! No! No!” Dustin yelled in frustration, his voice echoing through the arcade. “I hate this overpriced bullshit! Son of a bitch! Piece of shit!” He kicked the machine in anger, and Gracie, too amused by his dramatic outburst, let the vulgar language slide.
“You’re not nimble enough,” Lucas teased, a gleeful grin on his face as he patted Dustin’s shoulder. “But you’ll get there one day. Until then, Princess Daphne is still mine.”
Dustin waved off Lucas’s taunt, trying to hide his disappointment. “Whatever. I’m still tops on Centipede and Dig Dug.”
A new voice cut through the banter. “You sure about that?”
The group turned to see Keith, the arcade’s attendant, smirking as he munched on a bag of chips.
Dustin’s face fell. “You’re kidding me.” He sprinted over to the Dig Dug machine, the rest of the group and Keith following close behind.
“No, no, no!” Dustin groaned as he saw his top score had been beaten.
“751,300 points!” Gracie gasped, eyes wide in disbelief.
“That’s impossible,” Mike added, equally stunned by the new high score.
“Who is Mad Max?” Dustin demanded, spinning around to face Keith, his voice tinged with frustration.
“Better than you,” Keith replied with a smug grin, popping another chip into his mouth.
Scoffing, Dustin asked, “Is it you?”
“You know I despise Dig Dug,” Keith said, brushing off the accusation.
“Then who is it?” Will chimed in, curiosity sparking in his eyes as everyone wondered who this mysterious ‘Mad Max’ could be.
“Yeah, spill it, Keith,” Lucas said, as all five of them looked at the boy expectantly.
Keith’s eyes flicked to Gracie, a sly grin spreading across his face. “You want information, then I need something in return.” His gaze lingered on her, making his intentions clear.
Nose scrunched in disgust, Gracie was about to tell Keith off but the boys beat her to the chase, immediately breaking out into disgusted protest.
“Oh, go to hell, Keith,” Dustin spat, flipping the boy off without hesitation, "Over our dead bodies we let Gracie suffer through an evening with you."
“Yeah, we aren't prostituting out our babysitter.” Mike added, his eyes narrowing as he glared at Keith.
“And besides, she's got better things to do than date a bum like you.” Lucas retorted, crossing his arms with a defiant look.
“Don’t do it, Gracie,” Dustin urged, looking smugly at Keith, “He’s gonna spread his nasty-ass rash to your whole family.”
Keith dropped his arms in frustration, his face souring. “Acne isn’t a rash, and it isn’t contagious, you prepubescent wastoid.”
“Oh, I’m a wastoid?” Dustin scoffed, “She wouldn’t go on a date with you. You make, like, what? $2.50 an hour?”
Gracie watched the boys fight, their responses bringing an amused smile to her face. She was grateful for it, but her smile faded when she noticed Will standing alone outside the arcade. He was staring blankly at the night sky, his posture tense.
Concern etched itself across Gracie’s features, she swiftly moved away from the boys, and to the front of the arcade. Frowning when the sound of the door opening didn't grab Will's attention, her heart pounded with unease. Gently tapping him on the shoulder, she softly asked, “Will, you okay?” Her voice was filled with genuine worry.
Will flinched slightly at her touch, as if pulled from deep thought. He turned to face her, forcing a nod that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah. I just… I needed some air.”
Gracie studied his face, noticing the tightness around his eyes and the way his hands were clenched. It was clear he was not entirely honest, but she chose not to press him further. Instead, she gave him a warm, reassuring smile, hoping to bridge the gap between their unspoken worries. “Okay… Come on. You’re up on Dig Dug,” she said gently, guiding him back toward the arcade with a light touch on his arm, “Let’s take that top score back, huh?”
------
The bell rang above the classroom as students hurried to pack up and head out the door to lunch. Gracie let out a big yawn, rubbing her eyes to ward off the lingering tiredness from staying up too late.
Nearby, Jonathan and Nancy made their way over. Noticing the dark circles under Gracie’s eyes, Jonathan gave a small chuckle. “Long night?” he teased.
Gracie nodded, her eyes still half-closed. “Yeah, I kinda stayed up too late playing Dig Dug,” she admitted, the lack of regret in her voice clear despite her obvious fatigue.
Nancy laughed, nudging Gracie playfully. “Glad to know my quarters were put to good use,” she joked as the three of them moved toward the door.
Gracie sheepishly rubbed the back of her head, remembering how she’d been an accomplice in Mike’s arcade heist. “Oh yeah, sorry about that.”
The three friends laughed, their footsteps echoing in the hallway. Just then, Tina passed by, handing a flyer to Nancy. “Hey, be there,” Tina said with a wink before walking away.
Nancy glanced at the flyer and quickly called out, “Oh, could I get two more?”
Tina obliged, and Nancy handed the extra flyers to Gracie and Jonathan. “You both are coming to this,” she declared, leaving little room for argument.
Gracie and Jonathan exchanged a knowing look, their expressions mirroring each other’s lack of enthusiasm. “Come and get sheet faced,” Jonathan read from the flyer, stuffing it into his backpack. “No, we're not.”
“Yeah, I’d rather not spend my Halloween surrounded by alcohol-induced puke,” Gracie added with a grimace.
Nancy groaned, shaking her head in mock exasperation. “I can’t let you both sit all alone on Halloween. That’s just not acceptable!”
Gracie grinned, amused by Nancy’s determination. “Relax, we won’t be alone. We’re going trick-or-treating with Will.”
Nancy’s face softened, but only slightly. “All night?” she pressed, already knowing the answer. “No way. You’re gonna be home by 8:00, listening to the Talking Heads and reading Vonnegut or something,” she said to Jonathan before turning to Gracie. “And you’ll end up playing Dungeons and Dragons in the basement with my brother and his friends.”
“That actually sounds like a nice night,” Jonathan said with a small smile, and Gracie nodded in agreement.
Reaching Nancy’s locker, the two waited as she put away her books, still trying to convince them to join her at Tina’s party. “Guys, just come,” Nancy pleaded, sliding her math book onto the shelf. “I mean, who knows? You both might even meet someone.”
At this, Gracie and Jonathan glanced at each other in doubt while Nancy let out a small shriek as a familiar face joined their conversation. Wrapping his arms around his girlfriend, Steve Harrington appeared, wearing his trademark sunglasses. Nancy playfully slapped his arm and grinned widely. “Oh my God! Take those stupid things off,” she demanded, grabbing the sunglasses from his face.
Steve chuckled at the girl giving her a sweet kiss on the cheek. Tearing his gaze from Nancy, he nodded at the extra company. “Williams,” he greeted with a politely.
“Harrington,” Gracie replied with a curt but respecting nod. She hadn’t spoken much to Steve since Christmas, but she no longer thought so poorly of him. While they said they would "start over", the two found themselves simply transitioning from down each other's throats, to not just acknowledging each other's existence, sometimes coupled with small talk. But only on special occasions. Sure they were neither of each other’s favorites, but after all, he had saved two of her friends from an alternate dimension monster. And while she couldn’t help but think Jonathan and Nancy had some unfinished business, it seemed Steve made Nancy happy.
That didn’t mean, however, that Gracie wanted to watch Nancy and Steve try to mush faces into one. When Steve leaned in to kiss Nancy, Gracie noticed Jonathan’s discomfort mirrored her own. She gently tugged on his arm, sighing. “Let’s go.”
They walked down the hall, leaving Nancy and Steve behind. Gracie couldn’t help but notice the frown on Jonathan’s face. She reached out, giving his arm a reassuring squeeze. “I’m sorry, Jonathan. I know you like her a lot.”
Jonathan shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant, but the sadness in his eyes was hard to miss. “Yeah, well… I just want her to be happy. And Steve… I mean, they look happy.”
Gracie frowned, her voice gentle as she said, “You deserve to be happy too, you know.” She paused, then added thoughtfully, “Nancy isn’t wrong, though. Maybe going to this party would be a good way for you to meet someone new.”
Jonathan snorted, shaking his head. “Yeah, right. Besides, I can't just leave Will—”
“I’ll still go with him,” Gracie interrupted. “You should go, Jonathan.”
"Hey I have an even better idea!" Jonathan suggested with a smile, "Why don't you go to the party and I'll babysit the boys."
"Okay A, babysitting is sort of my thing so back off." Gracie joked, "B, I think you need a party more than me." She argued, the two both knowing that she was referring to his need to get over Nancy.
Before Jonathan could respond, Gracie cut him off before he could even talk, "Who is that?" She asked, her attention turning to a broad man on the side opening his locker. Hawkins, being as small as it was, everyone knew each other, so it was easy to spot out the new people. But there was something about this guy, he was cute obviously, but there was something else too. Gracie didn't know if she liked it.
"I... have no idea." Jonathan replied, equally curious at the new kid in town.
Seeing eyes on him, the boy was quick to notice Gracie, smirking and sending a wink her way. Holding in her disgust, Gracie turned back back to Jonathan, continuing with their conversation. "Anyways, all I'm saying is that a party could do you some good."
“I—” Jonathan started, but he couldn’t seem to find a competent argument, after all, Gracie was right. After a moment of hesitation, he sighed, shoulders sagging. “I guess a party wouldn’t be the worst.”
Gracie laughed, nodding in agreement. “We've definitely seen that there's much, much worse things.”
Jonathan chuckled at Gracie's comment, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, after everything that happened last year, going to a Halloween party seems like nothing." His expression softened, and he seemed momentarily lost in thought, remembering the terrifying events that still haunted them both.
The static of Gracie's supercom cut through the air, catching their attention. Jonathan smirked. "Sounds like you're being summoned," he teased, watching as Gracie unzipped her backpack to retrieve her walkie-talkie.
She lifted the supercom to her mouth, pressing the button to talk. "Gracie here. What's up?"
Lucas's voice came through, filled with excitement. "Gracie, do you copy? Come over to the middle school. We found Mad Max!"
Gracie sighed with amusement, shaking her head. "I'll see you later, Jonathan?" she asked, already turning to head towards the middle school.
"Yeah, catch you later," Jonathan replied with a wave, watching her go before heading off in the opposite direction.
Gracie made her way across the parking lot to the middle school, where the kids were supposed to be in class. It was lunch, but the high school didn’t really care about students leaving the campus, so sneaking out was easy. The walk was short, and as she approached the playground at the back of the school, she could see the boys huddled behind a fence, peeking through the slats.
Gracie grinned mischievously as she crept up behind them, determined to give them a scare. "What are you creeps doing back here?" she asked loudly, startling them. They jumped at the sound of her voice, their heads whipping around in surprise.
Dustin quickly recovered, pointing at a red-haired girl who was skating around the concrete. "We think she's Mad Max," he explained eagerly.
Gracie followed Dustin's gaze, watching the girl weave skillfully around the playground. "How do you know?" she asked, curious about their certainty.
Mike chimed in, "We heard her introduce herself as Max in class. It's gotta be her."
Gracie raised an eyebrow, still not entirely convinced. "Even if it is... why do we care again?" she asked, confused about the boys' intense interest.
Will sighed, clearly on the same page as Gracie. "That's what I'm saying," he muttered, shaking his head as Mike hummed in agreement.
Dustin, however, had different views. "Well, for one, she's awesome. I mean, she beat me in Dig Dug!" he argued, his eyes sparkling with admiration.
"Awesome?" Mike countered, clearly unimpressed. "You haven't even spoken a word to her!"
Dustin puffed up, defending his position. "I don't have to. I mean, look at her—oh, crap! I've lost the target."
The group quickly realized they had been so focused on their conversation that they had lost sight of the girl. They frantically scanned the playground, but she was nowhere to be seen.
"Oh, found her!" Will suddenly pointed, and everyone turned to see the girl walking up the steps back into the school. As she disappeared inside, she dropped a piece of paper into the trash can by the stairs.
Without a moment to lose, the boys sprinted towards the trash can, Gracie close behind. "Seriously, guys?" she called out disapprovingly, rolling her eyes as she jogged to keep up. "Dumpster diving?"
"Just shut up and keep watch!" Dustin demanded, and Gracie, along with Lucas and Mike, formed a protective circle around Will and Dustin to shield them from the view of any passersby.
Middle schoolers passing by gave them confused and disgusted looks, and Gracie offered them awkward smiles, trying to defuse the situation with a bit of humor. She felt a little embarrassed by the whole thing, but she couldn’t help but be amused by the boys’ antics.
"Got it!" Dustin exclaimed triumphantly, pulling out a crumpled piece of paper from the trash. Everyone huddled around him as he carefully unfolded it, revealing the message inside.
"Stop spying on me, creeps."
Frowning, Dustin was defeated. "Well shit." He cursed.
As the boys' mouths dropped open in shock, and Gracie burst out laughing. "Oh, I already like this girl," she said, grinning broadly.
The middle school principal approached the group, ignoring Gracie entirely. It was a familiar occurrence—they both knew she wasn't supposed to be on school grounds, but she always found a reason to be there, keeping an eye on the kids.
"William Byers," the principal called out, his tone curt. "Your mother's here."
Will nodded quickly and grabbed his backpack, his movements swift and a bit tense. Ever since his experience in the Upside Down, Will had been making regular trips to the lab for check-ups, part of an ongoing effort to monitor his health and well-being. Gracie wasn’t comfortable with him going there—she didn’t trust anyone involved with the lab after everything that happened. But she also understood that Will needed a type of help that none of them could provide.
As Will slung his backpack over his shoulder, Gracie ruffled his hair gently, trying to offer some comfort. "Take care, okay?" she said with a reassuring smile.
Will returned the smile, albeit a small one, and nodded. “I will,” he replied softly. He then turned and walked towards his mom’s car, parked just outside. The rest of the group watched him leave, their expressions a mix of worry and helplessness.
"Do you guys think he's okay?" Dustin asked, breaking the silence. His voice was filled with concern, mirroring the thoughts they all shared.
"He's always weird when he has to go in," Lucas reasoned, though the unease in his voice was still evident. He crossed his arms, frowning as he watched the car drive away.
"I don't know," Gracie sighed, shaking her head. "He’s quieter today than usual."
"He's always quiet," Mike argued, his tone slightly defensive. The others fell silent, knowing he was right. Will Byers hadn’t been the same since he came back from the Upside Down. None of them were. The trauma had left its mark on all of them in different ways, and the weight of it hung heavily in the air.
Gracie looked around at the boys, seeing the worry etched on their faces. She knew they all felt powerless, wanting to help their friend but unsure how. She put a hand on Mike’s shoulder, squeezing it gently. “We just have to keep being there for him, no matter what. That’s all we can do right now.”
The boys nodded, each of them lost in their own thoughts. Dustin tried to lighten the mood, giving a small, hopeful grin. "Yeah, we’ll be like his personal bodyguards. The 'Will Byers Protection Squad!'"
Lucas let out a small snort, shaking his head at Dustin's attempt to joke, but Gracie could see the hint of a smile on his lips. "Nice try, Dustin, but I don't think we can protect him from whatever's going on in his head."
Mike, still staring in the direction Will had left, finally turned back to the group. His eyes were filled with determination. “We’ll figure this out,” he said firmly. “We have to.”
Gracie nodded, her heart aching for all of them. She knew they’d do everything they could to help Will, just as they always had. They were a team—a family. And no matter what came their way, they’d face it together.
steve harrington x gracie williams(eventually)
word count: 6.7k
summary: nancy and jonathan go to kill the demogorgon, leaving gracie and the kids alone at the middle school. shit goes down and gracie finds herself put in the ultimate babysitter test.
Everyone was still reeling from Eleven's revelations in the sensory deprivation tank. Hopper and Joyce had left to find Will, embarking on what seemed like a desperate mission, but Gracie held onto a thin strand of trust in them.
Nancy and Jonathan had disappeared into the darkened halls, leaving Gracie alone with the kids. They all sat together on the gym bleachers, huddled around Eleven, who was still trembling from the overwhelming visions.
Lucas, who had been quiet and tense, suddenly returned with a jacket he’d found in the lost and found. He gently draped it over Eleven’s shoulders, his earlier resentment toward her now replaced with concern. Gracie managed a faint smile, touched by his gesture. Despite everything, it felt like the party was finally united again, even in the midst of all this chaos.
But Gracie’s thoughts kept drifting back to Barb. Gone. The word echoed in her mind, cold and unforgiving. She replayed Eleven’s words from the pool over and over, trying to grasp the reality that her best friend was truly gone.
Her thoughts were interrupted when Nancy and Jonathan re-entered the gym, their faces set with determination. Nancy waved Gracie over, her urgency clear. Gracie hesitated, looking back at the kids. They were focused on comforting Eleven, who was slowly calming down, though her eyes were still red from crying. Reluctantly, Gracie walked over to meet Nancy and Jonathan.
"Let’s go," Nancy said immediately, her voice firm and resolute.
"Go?" Gracie repeated, confusion furrowing her brow. "Go where?"
"To finish what we started," Jonathan said, his eyes dark with purpose.
Realization hit Gracie like a freight train. They wanted to kill the Demogorgon. Her eyes flicked back to the kids, anxiety clawing at her insides. "I can’t leave them. You know that."
"They’ll be safe," Nancy insisted, her voice tinged with desperation. "No one knows they’re here. Do you really think those people will check the middle school?"
Gracie bit her lip, weighing their words. They were right; the chances of anyone finding the kids in the middle of the night were slim. But the thought of leaving them alone again, especially after everything they’d been through, filled her with dread. "I have to stay here—"
"Gracie, please," Jonathan interrupted, stepping closer. His voice was calm, but there was an urgency in his eyes. "That thing is still out there, and it could come after Hopper and my mom any moment. For all we know, it could even come here. We need to kill it."
"It killed Barb." Nancy said, anger and grief radiating off of her, "I want to kill it."
The mention of Barb made Gracie’s heart ache, but she shook her head. She had this feeling in her gut, like she had when she offered to bike back all the way with Will. That time she had ignored her instinct and went with rationality that nothing bad would happen. She wouldn't make the mistake of assuming the typical ever again. Shaking her head, her resolve definitive. "I want to kill it too Nance. But I can’t leave them. They're just kids, my kids, and they need me here. I need me here. If anything happened to them I-" Not even letting herself finish the thought, Gracie looked back at Nancy even firmer than before, "I won’t leave them alone. I just won't."
Nancy’s face fell, the determination in her eyes wavering as she realized Gracie wasn’t going to change her mind. She let go of Gracie’s hand, stepping back. "We have to do this, Gracie. We have to kill it."
"I know." Gracie replied, her voice heavy with emotion. "But you don't need me to do it."
Jonathan glanced between the two of them, his expression conflicted, but he knew they didn’t have time to argue. He wanted Gracie to come, as this was something they'd all started together, but he also knew Gracie well enough to know that there was no way in hell she was leaving these kids by themselves at a time like this. He gave Gracie a solemn nod. "We'll come back as soon as we can."
"Stay safe." Gracie nodded, giving them each a tight hug before they turned and walked away, their footsteps echoing down the empty hallway. As Gracie made her way back to the bleachers, the kids were already watching her, their eyes filled with concern. They had clearly seen her conversation with Nancy and Jonathan, and as she approached, they quickly pretended to be engrossed in a different conversation. Gracie couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, knowing that subtlety was not exactly their strong suit.
"Are you leaving with them?" Mike asked, his voice tinged with worry, the rest of the group waiting anxiously for her answer.
"You can if they need you," Dustin added, trying to sound casual but failing to hide the concern in his tone. "I mean, we get it."
Gracie shook her head, a warm smile spreading across her face as she sat back down with them. "And leave the party behind?" she asked with mock incredulity. "Never."
Sighs of relief echoed across the bench, and Lucas broke out into a wide grin. "Thank God. We were scared you were going to ditch us and leave us here alone."
"Lord knows I can't leave you shitheads alone for more than a minute before you blow something up," Gracie teased, her tone light, drawing laughter from the group.
As they shared this brief moment of peace, Gracie felt a deep sense of warmth and love for these kids. They had all been through so much, and yet they were still here, still together. Pulling Eleven into her arms, she held her close, feeling the younger girl relax against her. The weight of everything pressed down on her, but she knew, without a doubt, that she had made the right choice. She couldn’t leave them. Not now. Not ever.
------
It had been an hour since Nancy and Jonathan had left, and the tension in the air was palpable. Everyone was getting antsy. Gracie could hear the rumbling of the kids' stomachs, and her own hunger gnawed at her. Taking charge, she decided to lead them to the cafeteria to find something to eat.
As they scoured the cafeteria kitchen, Mike and Eleven waited by a table. Eleven was still too weak to walk around much, her small frame slumped against the table, her eyes heavy with exhaustion.
"I found the chocolate pudding!" Dustin’s triumphant yell echoed through the kitchen. Gracie and Lucas immediately rushed over to grab some for themselves. As the boys dug into the pudding cups, Gracie couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of their chocolate-covered faces.
"You shitheads look like you actually ate shit!" she teased, her laughter infectious. The boys looked at each other before bursting into laughter themselves. For a brief moment, Gracie allowed herself to enjoy the simple joy of being with the kids, forgetting about the chaos and fear that had dominated their lives. The truth was, she wasn’t just staying to protect them; she needed them just as much.
Shaking her head at their ridiculousness, Gracie grabbed a couple more pudding cups and brought them over to Mike and Eleven. "Here, I brought pudding for both of you," she said, placing the cups and two spoons on the table.
Mike thanked her, immediately opening his cup. Eleven, however, stared down at the pudding, her brow furrowed in confusion. "What's... pudding?" she asked, her voice small and hesitant.
Gracie shared an amused look with Mike before pushing the cup closer to Eleven. "I have a feeling you’ll like it," she assured her. When Eleven still seemed unsure, Gracie gently handed her the spoon, adding, "Friends don’t lie, right?"
At that, Eleven’s worried expression softened into one of trust. She opened the cup and took a tentative bite. Her eyes lit up with delight, and Gracie smiled, glad to see a moment of happiness for the girl who had been through so much.
Mike grinned at Eleven’s reaction. "Don’t worry, when all this is over, you won’t have to keep eating junk food and leftovers like a dog anymore. My mom’s a pretty awesome cook. She can make you whatever you like."
"Eggos?" Eleven asked, her eyes widening in excitement.
"Well, yeah, Eggos," Mike replied with a nod, "but real food too. I was thinking, once all this is over and Will’s back and you’re not a secret anymore, my parents can get you an actual bed for the basement. Or you can take my room if you want, since I’m down there all the time anyway." His face turned a bit red as he spoke, and Gracie watched their conversation with a sad smile.
She knew that even if they all made it out of this unscathed, the idea that Eleven would be free was unlikely. She wished more than anything that their future could look like what Mike described, but deep down, she knew it was a pipe dream. Still, as she saw Mike’s hopeful face and Eleven’s excited expression, she wouldn’t dare break their little bubble.
Leaving the two of them to their private moment, Gracie was about to head back to the kitchen to check on Dustin and Lucas when something caught her eye. Glancing out the window, she saw a stream of white vans pulling in. Her heart sank. She didn’t need to look twice to know who they were. Her instincts had been right—Jonathan and Nancy shouldn’t have gone alone.
"Oh shit," Gracie cursed under her breath, catching the attention of Mike and Eleven. They followed her gaze out the window, their eyes widening in fear.
"How did they find us?" Mike asked, his voice trembling with panic, but Gracie didn’t answer. She was already moving, grabbing Mike and Eleven and rushing them back into the kitchen to alert Lucas and Dustin.
Once they were all together, Gracie led the group out of the cafeteria and into the halls, searching desperately for an escape route. She spotted the back entrance that led out to the field and knew it was their only chance. But before they could reach it, agents appeared at the end of the hall, one of them shouting, "There they are! Freeze!"
Soon, the blonde woman Gracie recognized from earlier appeared, flanked by two other agents, all with guns trained on them. Gracie quickly pushed the kids back, spreading her arms wide to shield them as much as possible.
But before she could react, Eleven stepped forward, pushing Gracie’s arm down as she moved in front of her. Gracie’s breath caught in her throat as she watched Eleven’s eyes darken with concentration. The agents’ guns suddenly dropped from their hands, and blood began to trickle from their eyes. In the blink of an eye, Eleven snapped her head to the side, and the agents followed suit, their necks breaking with sickening cracks as they collapsed to the floor, lifeless.
The effort was too much for Eleven. She fell to the floor, and Gracie was quick to catch her, lowering herself to her knees with Eleven’s head resting in her lap.
"Is she okay?" Mike asked, dropping down beside Gracie, his face pale with worry.
"Something’s wrong," Lucas said, his voice filled with dread. They had never seen Eleven pass out like this before. Gracie knew she must have pushed herself too far—flipping the truck, the sensory deprivation tank, and now this.
Mike, trying to stay calm, assured them, "She’s just drained."
Gracie gently shook Eleven, trying to rouse her. "Shit, she won’t wake up. El!" she called out, panic creeping into her voice.
"El!" Mike echoed, his voice growing louder with each call, his fear evident.
The sound of approaching footsteps snapped Gracie back to the present. She cursed herself for getting caught up in her worry for Eleven. "Shit, we’ve gotta go," she said, standing up. She was about to lift Eleven into her arms when it was already too late. They were surrounded.
Agents appeared on both sides of the hall, guns pointed at them, leaving no room for escape. A man stepped forward from the line of agents. He was lean, with gray hair and a face that instantly filled Gracie with disgust. He wore a suit and tie, his expression cold and calculating.
"Step away from the child," he ordered, his voice dripping with authority.
Glaring at him, Gracie positioned herself protectively in front of Eleven, who still lay unconscious. "You want her? You’ll have to kill me first."
"That’s right!" Dustin shouted, the boys quickly backing her up.
"Eat shit!" Lucas added defiantly.
But their resistance was short-lived. The agents behind them quickly grabbed the boys, pulling them back. Gracie barely had time to process what was happening before the man stepped closer, trying to reach Eleven. Seeing his intent, Gracie took another step forward, ready to fight him off.
"No!" she yelled, her voice raw with desperation. But before she could make a move, one of the gunmen fired, the bullet hitting her leg with a sickening thud. Pain shot through her body, and she screamed, the sound echoing through the hallway.
"Gracie!" Lucas cried out, the boys struggling even harder against their captors, trying to reach her as she collapsed to the ground, blood pouring from her wound.
Gracie’s vision blurred from the pain, but she refused to give in. She tried to crawl toward Eleven, who was now being held by the man she loathed. But before she could get close, another agent grabbed her, pulling her back. The boys’ cries of protest filled the air, their struggles growing more frantic.
"Get off me!"
"Let her go!"
"You idiot!"
Despite the excruciating pain in her leg, Gracie’s determination only grew. Adrenaline surged through her veins, dulling the pain enough for her to fight back. She kicked the agent holding her square in the crotch, causing him to release his grip. In one swift motion, she grabbed his gun from its holster and used it to bash the face of the agent holding Mike. As the man stumbled, she quickly shot the agent restraining Lucas in the foot, forcing him to let go.
Seeing Gracie’s fierce resistance, Dustin’s captor hesitated, giving Dustin the chance to break free. But before the agent could retaliate, Gracie was on him, slamming her elbow into his chin with all the strength she could muster.
"Run!" Gracie yelled at the boys, her voice urgent as she sensed more agents closing in. She couldn’t leave without Eleven, but she needed to get the boys to safety. Before anyone could move, the lights above them began to flicker, drawing everyone’s attention. Gracie’s breath caught in her throat as she noticed the pools of blood everywhere—blood from the agents Eleven had killed, the ones Gracie had fought off, and her own wound. Nancy’s theory about blood attracting the monster flashed through her mind.
"Oh shit," Gracie muttered, her eyes widening as the realization hit her. She didn’t waste another second. She grabbed the gun from the ground and used it to knock out the man holding Eleven. Slinging the weapon over her shoulder, she hoisted Eleven onto her other shoulder, ignoring the searing pain in her leg. The agents, distracted by the cracks forming in the walls, didn’t even notice her.
The sound of bricks breaking and the door creaking open filled the hallway. Gracie didn’t waste a second. "Run! Run! Run!" she shouted at Dustin, Lucas, and Mike, making sure they were ahead of her as they bolted down the corridor in search of safety. They found an empty classroom, and Gracie hurriedly ushered everyone inside, locking the door behind them.
From behind, the terrifying roars of the Demogorgon echoed, followed by the deafening sound of gunfire. But all Gracie cared about was the fact that all four kids were safe... for now.
She quickly moved to the back of the classroom, placing Eleven on one of the lab tables. The girl, though weak, was awake, panting heavily as she tried to catch her breath.
"It’s okay, you’re okay," Gracie cooed, running a soothing hand over Eleven’s head. "We’ve got you. The bad man is gone." She wasn’t entirely sure, but she needed to comfort the girl.
Stepping back to let Mike hold Eleven’s hand, Gracie joined Dustin and Lucas, who stood close by. The adrenaline in her system began to subside, and the sharp pain in her leg from the gunshot wound flared up. Biting back the pain, Gracie removed her sweater and tied it around her leg to staunch the bleeding. The gunfire continued outside, but the classroom was far enough that the sound was muffled.
"Just hold on a little longer, okay?" Mike pleaded with Eleven, his voice thick with emotion as he clung to her hand. "He’s gone. The bad man’s gone. We’ll be home soon, and my mom... she’ll get you your own bed. You can eat as many Eggos as you want. And we can go to the Snow Ball." His voice cracked, and Dustin, Lucas, and Gracie watched the heartbreaking scene unfold.
"Promise?" Eleven asked, her voice trembling as tears welled in her eyes. Deep down, they all knew it was a pipe dream.
Mike nodded fervently. "Promise."
Suddenly, a monstrous screech pierced the air, causing everyone to jump. The gunfire outside continued to roar, and Gracie saw the flashes of muzzle fire from the hallway. Then, abruptly, the gunfire stopped.
"Is... Is it dead?" Dustin asked, his voice filled with desperate hope. But before anyone could answer, another growl echoed down the hall, the monster rapidly approaching them.
Gracie’s mind raced as she realized it was only a matter of time before the Demogorgon found them. Looking at the terrified boys, she knew she had to do something. Her entire body froze as the realization of what she had to do settled in. Glancing down at her leg, she saw the blood seeping through her makeshift bandage.
"It’s attracted to blood," Gracie mumbled aloud, her mind formulating a desperate plan.
The boys looked at her in confusion, but Gracie didn’t have time to explain. She turned to them urgently. "Listen up. I’m gonna run out that door and distract it, okay? The second you hear that monster run past you, grab Eleven and run out of the back door. Do not wait for me. Do you understand?"
Their eyes widened in shock as they realized what she was planning. They immediately began to protest, "Gracie, no!—"
"Do you understand?" Gracie repeated firmly, cutting off Mike’s pleas. The wild look in her eyes silenced them. Instead of arguing, Lucas stepped forward and hugged her tightly, the other boys quickly following suit. Gracie held them close for a moment, savoring what could be one of her last moments with them. She looked over at Eleven, who was watching with panicked eyes, and sent her the most reassuring look she could muster.
Another growl echoed, this time much closer. Gracie quickly pushed the boys away. Ripping off the sweater that was protecting her wound, she groaned in pain as the cold air hit the open injury.
Without a second thought, Gracie rushed out the door and into the empty hallway. She could hear the Demogorgon’s footsteps approaching, though it was still out of sight.
"Come and get me, you son of a bitch!" Gracie yelled, her voice echoing through the corridor. Her challenge was met with a loud growl. "I’m right here!"
There was a brief moment of silence before the Demogorgon turned the corner at the far end of the hall, coming face to face with Gracie. Neither moved, the air thick with tension.
"You want me?" Gracie taunted, letting out a humorless laugh. "Come and get me."
Without waiting for a response, Gracie took off down the hall, turning a corner as the Demogorgon screeched and charged after her. She led it away, ensuring the path was clear for the boys and Eleven to escape.
Hearing the monster gaining on her, Gracie made a sharp right turn, leading her down another hallway. She knew she couldn’t outrun it much longer. Spotting an open door to an empty classroom, she quickly slipped inside and locked herself in. Pressing her back against the door, she held her breath, listening as the Demogorgon’s footsteps grew closer, then seemed to move past her room.
For a brief moment, Gracie thought she was safe. But then, everything went eerily silent. The quiet was almost suffocating.
Suddenly, the door blew open with a force that knocked Gracie off her feet. The Demogorgon roared as it grabbed her by the throat, slamming her to the ground before she could even react. She gasped for breath, the weight of the monster pressing down on her chest as it held her there, its terrifying face inches from hers.
Gracie turned her head to the side, closing her eyes as the cold, slimy mucus from the Demogorgon’s maw dripped onto her. She braced herself for the end, knowing there was nothing more she could do. But just as she accepted her fate, she heard a small stone clatter against the back of the Demogorgon’s head.
"Get off our babysitter!" Lucas shouted, his voice filled with defiance as he slung another rock at the monster. Gracie’s eyes flew open in shock as she turned her head to see the boys standing in the doorway, their faces filled with a mixture of terror and determination.
The Demogorgon turned its head fully towards them, its mouth opening wide to reveal rows of sharp teeth. It let out a deafening roar, ready to pounce on the boys.
"No!" Gracie croaked, struggling to free herself from the creature’s grip. She should have known the boys would never leave her. Even in life threatening situations, they would do anything but listen to her orders.
Just as the Demogorgon was about to pounce on the three boys, it suddenly flew into the air, slamming into the chalkboard with a bone-crunching force. The boys, who had been bracing for the worst, blinked in shock, their eyes darting from the monster to the source of this sudden power. Gracie, her vision blurred from pain and exhaustion, saw Eleven standing in the doorway, her hand outstretched, blood trickling from her nose.
Eleven's gaze was locked on the Demogorgon, her focus unbreakable as she walked past the boys. As soon as the monster was off of Gracie, the three boys rushed to her side, dragging her to safety at the side of the room. They watched in a mix of awe and fear as Eleven continued to move closer to the struggling creature, her telepathic hold tightening like an invisible vice.
"Eleven, no!" Mike cried out, the realization of what she was about to do dawning on him. The desperation in his voice mirrored the panic in Gracie's heart. Eleven was already so weak, and the thought of what this final act might do to her was almost too much to bear.
As Eleven turned back to her friends, still holding the Demogorgon in place, Gracie saw the tears streaming down her face. "Goodbye, Mike," Eleven whispered, her voice trembling with the weight of what she knew had to be done. The four of them watched in horror as she turned away, resolute in her decision.
"No more," Eleven declared, her voice filled with a quiet fury as she faced the Demogorgon. Her eyes darkened with determination as the lights around them began to violently flicker, the energy in the room reaching a fever pitch. Eleven let out an ear-piercing scream, her anguish and power intertwining with the Demogorgon's own pained screeches.
A blinding light suddenly erupted from the center of the room, engulfing everything in a brilliant, searing flash. When the light finally faded, Eleven and the Demogorgon were gone. The only evidence of the battle that had just taken place was a charred, blackened hole in the chalkboard, smoldering in the aftermath.
Mike's anguished cry shattered the heavy silence, his voice raw as he called out Eleven's name. Dustin and Lucas joined in, their voices a desperate chorus as they frantically searched the room for any sign of their friend.
But Gracie couldn't focus on their cries. The pain in her leg, now seeping into every nerve in her body, was finally too much. Her vision blurred as exhaustion and shock overtook her. She could feel herself slipping away, the edges of her consciousness fraying as her eyes fluttered closed.
"Mike, Mike!" Dustin yelled, bringing Mike's attention to Gracie, who's head now layed in Lucas' lap still.
The last thing she heard before everything went dark was the sound of Mike, Dustin, and Lucas calling her name, their attention quickly turned to the state of the older girl, voices filled with fear and desperation as they tried to keep her awake. But it was too late—Gracie had nothing left to give. The world around her faded into a comforting blackness as she finally succumbed to the darkness.
------
Gracie slowly blinked her eyes open, the world around her coming into focus. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of a bedside lamp casting long shadows across the walls. Her body felt heavy, her leg throbbing with a dull, persistent pain. As her senses returned, she became aware of a soft sniffle beside her.
Turning her head, she saw Nancy sitting in a chair by her bedside, her eyes red and puffy from crying. The moment their eyes met, Nancy gasped, her hands flying to her mouth as tears of relief spilled over.
“Gracie!” Nancy whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. She quickly leaned forward, wrapping her arms around Gracie in a gentle hug, careful not to jostle her too much. “You’re okay… thank God, you’re awake…”
Gracie, though still groggy, managed a small smile, touched by Nancy’s concern. “I’m okay, Nance,” she murmured, returning the hug as best she could. "My leg hurts like hell but I'm fine."
Nancy let out a shaky laugh, pulling back to wipe her tears. “You scared the hell out of us,” she admitted, her voice still quivering.
Gracie, weak but relieved, reached out a trembling hand. Nancy took it, her tears spilling freely. “I was so scared,” Nancy choked out, her voice cracking. “I thought I’d lost you, too.”
Gracie managed a faint smile, squeezing Nancy’s hand with the last of her strength. “I’m here. We made it.” Her gaze softened as she looked at Nancy, the weight of their shared loss settling heavily between them.
As silence settled around them, the unspoken reality became painfully clear. The girls had yet to truly mourn Barb, and with the chaos finally subsiding, it was time for them to confront their grief.
Nancy’s face twisted with anguish as she whispered, “I still can’t believe she’s gone.” Her voice trembled with the weight of her sorrow.
Gracie nodded, her own eyes misting over. The two women sat in somber silence, each lost in their own memories of Barb. The laughter and shared moments seemed like a distant echo now, overshadowed by the stark reality of their loss.
The pain of their absence was a deep and profound ache, a constant reminder of the price they had paid. It was a grief that had settled deeply in their hearts, unspoken but ever-present. As they faced this moment of reflection, they clung to each other for support, finding solace in their shared understanding and the strength of their friendship.
Gracie took a deep breath, her voice steadying. “We’ll remember her. She’s a part of us, always.”
Nancy wiped her tears, nodding resolutely.
Before she could respond, there was a soft knock at the door. Jonathan stepped in, his face lighting up when he saw Gracie awake. “Hey,” he said quietly, relief evident in his voice as he approached the bed. “You had us all worried there.”
"Gonna take more than a bullet to keep me down." Gracie quipped weakly, trying to lighten the mood despite the lingering pain in her leg. She looked between Nancy and Jonathan, grateful to see them both safe and sound. “You guys okay?”
Jonathan nodded, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “Yeah, we’re okay. Thanks to Steve, actually.”
Gracie raised an eyebrow, surprised. “Steve?” The last she’d heard of him he had called and written Nancy a slut and got beat up by Jonathan. Her opinion of him was at an all time low which was saying something.
Nancy nodded, a small smile forming on her lips. “He… he showed up at my house. Helped us take down the Demogorgon.”
Gracie stared at them in disbelief for a moment before bursting into laughter, the absurdity of the situation catching up to her. “Steve Harrington? As in King Steve.”
Jonathan chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, we couldn’t believe it either. But he came through.”
The room filled with the warm sound of their shared laughter, a brief respite from the horrors they’d faced. Jonathan eventually stood up, looking down at Gracie with a soft smile. “I’ll go get the boys. They’ve been waiting to see you.”
Gracie’s heart swelled at the thought of the boys waiting anxiously to see her. As Jonathan left the room, Nancy squeezed Gracie’s hand one last time before stepping back. “I’ll give you guys some privacy,” she said softly, smiling through her tears.
Moments later, the door creaked open again, and Dustin, Lucas, and Mike burst into the room. Without hesitation, they all rushed to Gracie’s side, their faces lighting up with joy and relief.
“Gracie!” Dustin exclaimed, practically throwing himself into her arms, followed quickly by Lucas and Mike. Gracie winced slightly at the sudden pressure but couldn’t help the warm laughter that bubbled up as she hugged them back.
“You dickheads,” she scolded affectionately, her voice filled with warmth. “I told you to run.”
The boys waved off her words with grins, Lucas shaking his head. “We’re not leaving a member of our party behind.”
Dustin nodded vigorously. “Never!”
Gracie’s heart swelled with pride and affection for these kids who had become like family to her. But as the initial joy of the reunion settled, Gracie couldn't help but notice a missing member. Her smile faded as she looked at each of them in turn, dreading the answer to her next question.
“Where’s Eleven?” she asked quietly.
The room fell into a heavy silence, the boys exchanging uneasy glances. None of them spoke, but the look in their eyes told Gracie everything she needed to know. Eleven was gone.
Gracie’s chest tightened, her mind racing with a thousand questions. Had she died? Disappeared? Was she still out there, somewhere? The uncertainty gnawed at her, but she forced herself to push those thoughts aside.
“Gracie,” Mike’s voice broke through her thoughts, his tone gentle yet hopeful. “Will woke up. He’s okay.”
Gracie’s eyes widened, a wave of emotion crashing over her. “Will’s awake?”
The boys nodded, and without another word, Gracie swung her legs over the side of the bed, ignoring the sharp pain that shot through her wounded leg. She couldn’t wait another second.
With the boys by her side, Gracie limped her way through the halls until they reached Will’s room. The door was slightly ajar, and as she pushed it open, she saw Joyce sitting by Will’s bedside, her eyes filled with tears of joy as she cradled her son’s hand.
Will looked up as they entered, his eyes meeting Gracie’s. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the reality of the moment sinking in.
Then, without warning, Gracie burst into tears, crossing the room in a few quick steps to wrap her arms around Will. He hugged her back just as tightly, both of them overwhelmed with relief and happiness.
“Will,” Gracie whispered through her tears, her voice trembling with emotion.
"Gracie!" Will exclaimed, ecstatic to see the older girl. Limping as fast as she could, Gracie wrapped her arms around Will, who sat up on his hospital bed, quickly hugging the the girl back tightly.
Will hugged her back with all his strength, his own tears of joy soaking into her hair. “I’m so glad you found me,” he said, his voice choked with emotion. “I’ve missed you so much.”
Gracie pulled back slightly, her hands cupping his face as she looked into his eyes. “You’re really here,” she said, her smile radiant. “You're really here."
As Gracie, Will, and the boys gathered together, the room seemed to glow with a renewed sense of hope and unity. The shadows of the past were starting to fade, replaced by the warmth of their shared bonds and the promise of a brighter future. Gracie looked around at her friends, her heart full, knowing that despite all they had endured, they had emerged stronger and more connected than ever. With laughter echoing through the room and tears of joy glistening in their eyes, they embraced the moment, cherishing the fact that, against all odds, they had found their way back to each other. For a moment, it felt as if her world had never been turned upside down.
------
one month later...
Christmas evening had arrived in Hawkins once more, and while most kids spent their time baking cookies or opening presents a day early, Gracie and the gang had other plans.
“Something is coming,” Gracie whispered dramatically, her eyes scanning the tabletop where the Dungeons and Dragons board lay. “Something angry, hungry for your blood. It is almost here.”
“What is it?” Mike asked, his eyes wide with curiosity as he, Lucas, Dustin, and Will gathered around the table.
“It’s the thessalhydra, I’m telling you,” Dustin said with confidence, though Lucas shook his head in disagreement.
“It’s not the thessalhydra,” Lucas argued, looking to Gracie for support. Gracie only shrugged, hiding a smirk.
“I’m telling you, it’s the thessalhydra,” Dustin repeated, his confidence growing with Gracie’s lack of a definitive answer.
Skipping the dramatic pause, Gracie grabbed the figurine and slammed it on the table with a loud thud. “The thessalhydra!”
Groans erupted from the group. “Damn it,” Mike cursed, the four boys sharing similar exasperated responses.
“It roars in anger!” Gracie read aloud before turning to Will. “Will, your action!”
“What should I do?” Will asked, looking around for help.
“Fireball him!” Lucas demanded, Mike nodding in agreement.
Will glanced at Dustin for confirmation. Dustin, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, finally said, “Fireball the son of a bitch.”
Gracie opened her mouth to reprimand Dustin when the boys cut her off.
“Language,” they said in unison, knowing Gracie’s usual response.
“Yeah, yeah,” Dustin said dismissively. “Roll the damn dice!”
Will rolled the dice with a flourish, and the group waited in eager anticipation. The dice clattered across the table and finally came to a stop. Cheers erupted as the result was revealed.
“Fourteen!” Gracie exclaimed, the group jumping up in celebration.
“Direct hit!” Gracie announced, staying in character. “Will the Wise’s fireball hits the thessalhydra. It makes a painful screech, and then…” Gracie fell to the floor dramatically. “It crumbles to the ground. Its clawed hand reaches for you one last time and, and, and…”
Gracie lay still, pretending to be dead, while the boys cheered their victory. Standing up with a wide grin, she continued, “Lucas cuts off its seven heads, and Dustin places them into his bag of holding. You carry the heads out of the dungeon, victorious, and present them to King Tristan. He thanks you for your bravery and service.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Dustin interrupted, shaking his head. “That’s not it, is it?”
“Well, there’s a medal ceremony—” Gracie began, only to be met with laughter from the boys.
“Oh, a medal ceremony?” Dustin mocked playfully. “What are you talking about? The campaign was way too short.”
“Yeah!” Lucas agreed, the boys nodding in unison.
“It was ten hours!” Gracie argued lightly, but the boys remained unconvinced.
“But it doesn’t make any sense,” Will said, “What about the lost knight?”
“And the proud princess?” Mike added. “And those weird flowers in the cave?”
Laughing, Gracie stumbled over her words. “I don’t know, it’s—”
Before she could explain further, Jonathan appeared at the basement stairs, scrunching his nose playfully. “Jeez, what’s that smell? Have you guys been playing games all day or just farting?”
“Oh, that’s just Dustin,” Lucas teased. “He farted.” He blew a raspberry and raised his voice higher. “Dustin farted!”
As Dustin glared at Lucas, who continued to blow raspberries, the rest of the group laughed. Will made his way to his brother.
“I’ll walk you guys up,” Gracie offered, leaving the boys in the basement momentarily.
“Did you guys win?” Jonathan asked as they climbed the stairs.
“Yeah,” Will nodded, his smile wide.
“Will here rolled the winning dice,” Gracie said, affectionately ruffling his hair.
As they reached the front door, Nancy emerged from the second floor with a small present in hand. Gracie eagerly awaited Nancy’s gift to Jonathan—a new camera that Steve, Nancy, and herself had chipped in to get him.
Nancy and Jonathan exchanged smiles as Gracie stepped back to give them a private moment. She watched as Will pretended to gag, mimicking how lovey-dovey his brother and Nancy were being without even noticing it.
Waving goodbye to Will, Gracie walked into the family room, ready to head back to the basement when she spotted Steve Harrington on the couch, apparently waiting for Nancy. Making eye contact, the two stayed silent for a second unsure of what to say.
“Oh, hi,” Steve greeted awkwardly, finally breaking the silence. “Uh, is Nancy giving Jonathan the present?”
“Yeah, she should be coming back soon,” Gracie confirmed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. There was still a lot unsaid between them, neither sure if the other hated them.
Steve ran a hand through his hair, clearly uncomfortable but trying to be casual. “So, um, did you have a good time? I mean, in the basement. You guys were pretty loud. Nancy said you were playing, uh... Dragons or Demons?”
Holding back a laugh at Steve's mix-up, Gracie smiled. “Yeah, it was great. It’s nice to have everyone together again.”
Steve nodded, his gaze softening. “I’m glad. You guys deserve it.”
There was a brief pause as both fidgeted with their hands. Steve rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I, uh, I know I’ve been kind of a jerk, especially with the whole movie theater thing. And you probably hate me. But just wanted to let you know that I’m sorry, and I’m trying to change.”
Gracie’s expression softened, letting out a sigh, “I don’t hate you Harrington.” she admitted, taking a deep breath. “Look, obviously, I wasn’t your biggest fan when you first got with Nancy.” Giving Steve a quick glare when he laughed at the understatement, “But what you did for Nancy and Jonathan that night, well- that was really cool of you."
Silent for a second, Steve asked hesitantly, “Can we just... can we start over?”. Gracie looked at him, surprised by his genuine request. She hadn’t seen this side of Steve before, and it was refreshing.
Recovering her composure, Gracie smiled warmly. “Yeah, we can do that. I’d like that.”
Steve’s eyes lingered on her, a smile tugging at his lips. “You know, Nancy told me what you did for those kids. I mean I always knew you were sort of crazy, but letting that thing chase you…that's badass.”
Gracie’s cheeks flushed slightly, and she quickly looked away, trying to hide her blush. “Well, from what I heard, you were pretty badass too... something about a bat with nails?” She asked, recalling what Nancy and Jonathan had told her.
Laughing, Steve shook his head. “Yeah, something like that.”
A comfortable silence settled between them, Gracie’s eyes meeting Steve’s once more, an indescribable warmth spreading through her.
“Merry Christmas Williams.” Steve said, breaking the silence with a gentle smile.
“Merry Christmas, Harrington,” Gracie replied softly, returning his smile with one of her own before heading back to the basement to enjoy the rest of her Christmas evening with the party. The air felt lighter now, and as Gracie rejoined her friends, she couldn’t help but feel that the evening had turned into something truly special.
steve harrington x gracie williams(eventually)
word count: 6.6k
summary: after a shocking discovery in the woods, lucas and gracie rush back to their friends to warn them about oncoming danger. it leads them to an epic bike chase and them becoming fugitives. thankfully hopper comes and saves the day but the journey is long from over. but a phone call from mr. clarke, a quick ride to the middle school, and a kiddie pool gets them a bit closer to the finish line.
masterlist
RUSHING OUT OF THE WOODS AND TOWARD MIKE'S HOUSE, GRACIE AND LUCAS TOOK AN ALTERNATE ROUTE, KNOWING THAT THE VANS WERE LIKELY TAKING THE MOST OBVIOUS ONE. Lucas, being clever, had taped his SuperCom to his bike and called the others as soon as he could.
“Guys!” he yelled into the walkie-talkie, pedaling as fast as he could. “Get out of there now!”
Only static came through on the other side—the walkie-talkie was still out of range.
“We need to get closer to them!” Gracie shouted, the urgency in her voice matching the pace of her pedaling. “It's too out of range!”
Panting heavily, the two turned a sharp corner, pushing themselves to the limit. Lucas was practically out of breath but kept yelling, “...son of a bitch!” He exclaimed in frustration, the words tumbling out in desperation. Gracie didn’t even care about his language at this point—it was exactly how she felt too.
As they sped around the corner, Gracie and Lucas could feel the pressure mounting with every second. The urgency in Lucas's voice as he cursed was palpable, his frustration mirroring Gracie's own. They were running out of time, and the static on the walkie-talkie only amplified their anxiety.
Minutes felt like hours as they continued shouting into the walkie-talkie, hoping to break through the interference. Finally, a faint voice crackled through the static.
“Lucas, if you can hear us, slow down. We can’t understand you,” Mike’s voice came through, sounding distant but clear enough to give them a flicker of hope.
“Do you copy?” Lucas yelled back, his breath ragged as they continued biking uphill.
“Yes, I copy!” Mike confirmed.
Gracie exhaled in relief, but there was no time to rest. Lucas wasted no time warning, “They know about Eleven! Get out of there! They know about Eleven! The bad men are coming! All of them!”
Gracie could faintly hear the boys trying to make sense of Lucas’s frantic warnings.
“Mad hen? Does that mean anything to you?” Dustin's confused voice asked.
“Bad men!” Lucas corrected urgently, his breathlessness making it difficult to enunciate.
Gracie pushed herself even harder, pedaling until she was side by side with Lucas. She leaned in, her voice cutting through the chaos, “Boys, get the hell out of there now!” she yelled, the intensity in her tone making it clear this was a life-or-death situation.
Lucas suddenly pointed ahead, and Gracie’s heart sank as she spotted the white vans speeding toward the Wheeler residence.
“Shit, they’re gonna beat us,” she muttered, skidding to a stop. She knew if they continued to the house, they’d only get caught too. Quickly thinking on her feet, she made a sharp turn, calling for Lucas to follow, “Take a right here! Tell them to meet us at Elm and Cherry!”
Lucas quickly repeated the instructions into the walkie-talkie, but just as he did, the signal started breaking up. Gracie’s heart raced as she feared they might lose connection—or worse, that Mike and the others hadn’t made it out in time.
“Dustin!” Lucas shouted, his voice tinged with desperation. “Dustin, do you copy?”
After what felt like an eternity of static, Dustin’s voice finally came through. “Yeah, Lucas, they’re on us.” The sound of pedaling in the background was a relief—at least they were still moving.
“Where are you?” Lucas asked, the tension in his voice echoing Gracie’s own.
“Cornwallis,” Dustin responded.
“Elm and Cherry!” Gracie reminded Lucas, who quickly relayed the message.
“Meet us at Elm and Cherry!” Lucas yelled into the SuperCom.
“Copy. Elm and Cherry!” Mike’s voice came back, confirming the plan.
With their destination set, Gracie and Lucas focused all their energy on pedaling faster. They had to reach the meeting point before it was too late.
As they approached the intersection of Elm and Cherry, Mike, with Eleven clinging to the back of his bike, and Dustin came into view. They all skidded to a stop, taking a moment to catch their breath.
Gracie’s eyes darted to Eleven, a wave of relief washing over her. They’d found her—but there was no time to dwell on how. She would ask later; for now, they had to move.
“Where are they?” Lucas panted, still scanning the area.
“I don’t know,” Mike stammered, looking around nervously. The fear of being chased was still fresh.
“I think we lost them,” Dustin said, but his words barely left his mouth when the vans turned a corner and came back into view.
Gracie’s instincts kicked in. “Go, go, go, go, go!” she shouted, making sure all the kids were in front of her. She took up the rear, her eyes darting back to ensure none of them fell behind.
As they raced forward, another van suddenly turned the corner ahead, trapping them. They were caught in a terrifying sandwich, with nowhere to go but straight into the approaching vehicle.
"Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!" Mike yelled, panic rising as the realization hit them—they were caught. But even with fear gripping them, none of them slowed down. They knew there was no choice but to keep moving forward, even if it meant heading straight into danger.
Dustin let out a stream of curses as they hurtled toward the van blocking their path, and the rest of the group was yelling frantically, their voices blending into a chaotic chorus of fear.
Gracie’s heart pounded in her chest as she braced for impact, certain this was the end. But then, in an instant, everything changed. The van in front of them began to levitate, rising slowly into the air as if lifted by an invisible force. Time seemed to slow down as all six of them looked up, their eyes wide with shock and disbelief.
The van hovered above them for a brief, surreal moment before flipping completely over their heads. It crashed to the ground just a few feet behind Gracie, landing with a thunderous noise that blocked the path of the pursuing vehicles.
"Holy shit!" Gracie screamed, her mind struggling to process what she had just witnessed. It felt like something out of a dream—a miraculous, impossible escape. But there was no time to dwell on it. Seizing the opportunity, they all pedaled away as fast as they could, racing toward safety, their hearts still racing from the near miss.
Finally, after what seemed like hours but was at most another couple of minutes, the group reached the safety of the junkyard. They quickly dismounted from their bikes, breaths still heavy from the adrenaline-fueled ride. The sense of urgency began to fade, replaced by a mix of relief and disbelief at what they had just experienced.
“Did… did you see what she did to that van?” Dustin asked, his voice tinged with awe.
Mike, rolling his eyes but still clearly in shock, replied sarcastically, “No, Dustin, we missed it.”
But Dustin, too amazed to even care about Mike’s tone, continued, “I mean, that was…”
“Awesome,” Lucas interrupted, surprising everyone with his uncharacteristic praise. He looked directly at Eleven, his expression softening. “It was awesome.”
Gracie couldn’t help but smile at the scene, her heart warming as she watched Lucas finally accept Eleven into their group.
Lucas took a deep breath and moved closer to Eleven, his voice sincere as he knelt down in front of her. “Everything I said about you being a traitor and stuff… I was wrong. I’m sorry.”
For a moment, Eleven’s expression was unreadable, but then a small smile appeared on her face. “Friends… friends don’t lie,” she said, repeating their sacred rule. “I’m sorry, too.”
“Me too,” Mike added, stepping forward and holding out his hand. Lucas stood up and, without hesitation, shook it, sealing their reconciliation.
Gracie felt a wave of relief wash over her as she rushed over to Eleven, wrapping the girl in a tight hug. “Oh, thank God we found you,” she whispered, the stress of the past hours finally beginning to ease.
Eleven hugged Gracie back just as tightly, but then pulled away, pointing to her head with a guilty expression. Gracie immediately understood and shook her head, reassuring her, “I’m fine, don’t worry.”
Seeing the lingering guilt in Eleven’s eyes, Gracie softly held her shoulders, offering a comforting smile. “Hey, friends don’t lie, okay? I promise I’m okay.”
Eleven’s small smile returned, and instead of responding with words, she hugged Gracie again, seeking and finding comfort in the embrace. Gracie held her close, feeling the smaller girl finally relax in her arms. In that moment, the world outside the junkyard faded away, and Gracie allowed herself to savor this brief moment of peace, grateful to have her friend back and safe.
------
The party remained in the junkyard, finally out of immediate danger but still on high alert. Taking advantage of their brief respite, Lucas and Gracie detailed their recent discoveries to the group.
"This is Randolph Road," Lucas explained, pointing to a makeshift map he had created in the dirt with sticks and rocks. “The fence starts here and goes all the way around. And this is the lab right here. The gate’s gotta be in there somewhere. It’s gotta be.”
“Who owns Hawkins Lab?” Dustin asked, puzzled by the presence of such a facility deep in the woods.
“The sign says Department of Energy,” Gracie replied, her gaze following Lucas’s map.
“Department of Energy?” Dustin repeated, his confusion evident. “What does that even mean?”
“It means government. Military,” Mike answered with certainty, recalling what he had been told.
“Then why does it say Energy?” Dustin persisted, still not understanding.
“Just trust me, alright?” Mike replied. “It’s military. My dad’s told me before.”
“I think Mike’s right,” Gracie agreed, her memories of the area coming back to her. “There’s soldiers out front.”
“Do they make, like, light bulbs or something?” Dustin asked, his confusion lingering.
“No, weapons…” Mike corrected, struggling to remember the specifics. “To fight the Russians and commies and stuff.”
“Weapons,” Lucas echoed, the weight of their situation beginning to sink in. “Oh, Jesus, this is bad.”
“Really bad,” Gracie agreed. “The place is like a fortress.”
Dustin, still worried, pondered aloud, “Well, what do we do?”
“I don’t know,” Mike shrugged, looking defeated. “But we can’t go home. We’re fugitives now.”
Before they could delve deeper into their predicament, a whirring sound from the sky suddenly drew everyone’s attention. Gracie’s eyes widened as a helicopter came into view, hovering ominously above them.
“Go, go, go, go!” Gracie shouted, springing into action. The boys scrambled to follow her lead as she helped push their bikes under an old bus, attempting to hide them from the helicopter’s view.
“It’s stuck!” Dustin exclaimed, struggling to jam his bike all the way in.
“Hurry up! Hurry, come on!” Mike urged, panic rising in his voice. Gracie used her leg to force the bike into place before quickly ushering everyone inside the bus.
Once they were all inside, Gracie squeezed in just in time as the helicopter drew nearer.
“Get down!” Gracie ordered, her voice sharp with urgency. The helicopter flew overhead, its rotors creating a deafening noise that reverberated through the junkyard. After what felt like an eternity, the helicopter moved away, and the oppressive sound gradually receded.
“Mental,” Dustin breathed out, his voice trembling with relief. The group remained silent, each person absorbed in their gratitude for escaping unscathed.
Gracie’s mind raced as she processed the situation. The reality of their predicament weighed heavily on her—this was no longer just about searching for Will; they were now actively being hunted. The pressure to make the right decision was immense, and she knew the stakes were higher than ever.
Her thoughts were abruptly interrupted by Mike's urgent call.
"Gracie!" Mike said again, pulling her back to the present. When she finally looked up, he asked, "What do we do now?"
Gracie scanned the faces around her. Each one was filled with ones of fear and expectation, all waiting for the older girl to tell them what to do. The gravity of her power sank in deeper. This wasn't a simple search mission; it was a desperate fight for survival, one that the group counted on Gracie to make it out alive.
As she struggled to find the right words, a burst of static filled the bus. Everyone’s heads turned toward the sound. Gracie scrambled to pull her walkie-talkie from her backpack, and the group gathered around her.
Nancy's voice crackled through the static. "Gracie? Mike? Are you guys there?"
Gracie was initially confused to hear Nancy's voice, realizing they must be using Will’s SuperCom, as the rest of their radios were in the bus.
"Guys, it’s me, Nancy," Nancy’s voice continued, "We need you to answer."
"Is that your sister?" Lucas asked, a hint of confusion in his voice. Mike nodded in response also surprised to hear his sister's voice.
"This is an emergency, guys," Nancy’s voice persisted, "Do you copy? Mike, do you copy? Gracie?"
"This is really weird," Dustin muttered, his confusion mirrored by the rest of the group.
"Don’t answer," Mike quickly instructed Gracie, who was already contemplating her choices.
"But she said it’s an emergency!" Lucas argued, clearly in favor of responding.
"What if it’s a trick?" Mike countered. "What if the bad people kidnapped her? What if they’re forcing her to say this?"
"I need you to answer," Nancy’s voice repeated, her tone growing more urgent.
"It’s like Lando Calrissian," Dustin pointed out, though his comment was more a distraction than a solution. "Don’t answer."
Just then, the static intensified before another voice came through. "Listen, kid, this is the chief. If you’re there, pick up. We know you’re in trouble, and we know about the girl."
"Why is she with the chief?" Dustin asked, everyones confusion deepening.
"How the hell does he know about..." Lucas trailed off, their gazes shifting to Eleven. The reality of their situation hit Gracie even harder—there was so much at stake.
"We can protect you, we can help you, but you gotta pick up. Are you there? Do you copy? Over."
Gracie held the walkie-talkie tightly, the weight of the decision pressing down on her. The kids’ eyes were on her, each one silently imploring her to make the right call. Like she always said, she was the babysitter, she got the final call, and the kids trusted her enough to do just that.
Gracie knew they couldn’t stay in the junkyard—staying put meant being found eventually. Nor could they keep moving, knowing the second they stepped out and biked away they would be soon caught. No, they needed help.
She had taken leaps of faith before, believing that Will and Barb were alive and trusting Eleven to help find them. It had gotten her this far, and now she just had to trust one more time.
With a deep breath, Gracie raised the antenna and finally responded, "Yeah, I copy. It’s Gracie." She glanced around at the party, her eyes conveying a shared trust and determination. "We’re here."
------
Hopper had come just in time, arriving at the junkyard just when the "Bad men" had come as well. Knocking them out in a way that Gracie didn't think Jim Hopper, the so called lazy sheriff, could, he quickly hurried them out of the bus and into his car before zooming off to the Byer's house.
As soon as Hopper pulled up to the Byers' house and they all tumbled out of the car, Gracie barely had a moment to catch her breath before Nancy rushed over and enveloped her in a tight, relieved hug. The warmth and concern radiating from Nancy were almost overwhelming, and Gracie found herself holding on just as tightly.
Before she could even fully process the situation, Jonathan was next, pulling her into an embrace. "Thank God you're safe," he said, his voice heavy with relief. "We got worried when you left the police station without telling us."
Gracie gave him a sheepish smile as they pulled apart. "Yeah, sorry about that. I had to go grab Lucas."
Jonathan smiled back, clearly just happy to see her in one piece. "As long as you're all okay," he said, and the two hugged again, a shared moment of relief passing between them.
Nancy, after quickly checking on Mike, returned to Gracie, pulling her into another, more thorough hug. "I was so worried about all of you," she admitted, her voice trembling slightly with the lingering anxiety of everything that had happened.
Gracie barely had time to respond before Nancy pulled away, her attention shifting to Eleven, who stood awkwardly to the side, unsure of what to do with herself.
Nancy's eyes widened slightly in surprise as she took in the sight of Eleven.
"Is that my dress?"
Laughing, Gracie wrapped an arm around Nancy before giving a nervous El a reassuring smile, "Nancy, meet Eleven." Gracie introduced, Nancy giving the girl a timid wave.
Turning around, Gracie sighed, "Let's head inside, we've got both got a lot of explaining to do."
As everyone settled into the living room, the gravity of the situation seemed to weigh heavily on them. The room was tense, each person grasping at the hope that they might finally be able to find their missing loved ones. Mike, never one to waste time, quickly took the lead, using the paper plate and pen to explain the concept that had been haunting them all.
"Okay, so, in this example, we’re the acrobat," Mike began, his tone serious as he carefully drew a line across the plate. "Will and Barbara, and that monster, they’re this flea." He added another mark, representing the Upside Down. "And this is the Upside Down, where Will is hiding. Mr. Clarke said the only way to get there is through a rip in time and space," he explained, puncturing a hole in the plate to illustrate his point. "A gate."
Lucas chimed in, holding up his compass, "That we tracked to Hawkins Lab. With our compasses."
There were murmurs of confusion as everyone tried to piece together what the boys were saying. Gracie stepped in to clarify, "Okay, so the gate has a really strong electromagnetic field, and that can change the direction of a compass needle."
Hopper, who had been listening intently, asked, "Is this gate underground?" His tone suggested that he already knew the answer.
"Yes," Eleven quietly responded, her voice barely above a whisper. The room fell silent as all eyes turned to her, surprised she had spoken up.
"Near a large water tank?" Hopper continued, his questions more like confirmations.
Eleven nodded again, her expression somber.
Dustin, unable to hold back his curiosity, asked, "How do you know all that?" His voice was tinged with unease, clearly disturbed by how much Hopper seemed to know.
Gracie, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied Hopper, offered her own conclusion, "He’s seen it." She was certain that Hopper had somehow infiltrated the lab, though he remained tight-lipped, neither confirming nor denying her assumption.
Joyce, her voice trembling with a mix of desperation and hope, turned to Eleven. "Is there any way that you could... that you could reach Will? That you could talk to him in this—" She faltered, unfamiliar with the strange terminology.
"The Upside Down," the entire party stated in unison, their voices laced with a sense of unity and shared purpose.
Nodding, still coming to terms with the bizarre reality her son was trapped in, Joyce whispered, "Down. Yeah."
Nancy, leaning in closer to Eleven, asked softly, "And our friend Barbara? Can you find her, too?"
Eleven nodded again, this time more slowly, her eyes reflecting the heavy burden of their hopes. The room fell into a deep silence, the weight of the moment settling over them. They all realized that everything they had done so far, every effort they had made individually to bring Will and Barbara home, had led to this. Now, they were united, a single team with a singular goal and it was all finally coming together.
------
Static filled the otherwise silent room as everyone surrounded Eleven, who sat in front of the dining room table scattered with radios.
Gracie could see the concentration etched across Eleven’s closed face, feeling a mix of hope and nervousness. This might be their chance to contact Will and maybe even Barb.
The static seemed to intensify for a moment before dying out altogether. Eleven opened her eyes and turned back to the anxious group with a disappointed frown. “I’m sorry.”
“What—what’s wrong?” Joyce asked, stumbling over her words as she looked at the girl with concern. “What happened?”
Tears welled up in Eleven’s eyes as she shook her head, her voice trembling. “I can’t find them.”
Seeing how upset she was, Gracie quickly moved to wrap her arms around Eleven from behind, offering comfort. “It’s okay, don’t worry about it. Why don’t you just go to the bathroom and calm down for a second, okay?” Gracie suggested softly. Eleven nodded, her small frame trembling as she made her way to the restroom.
“Is she alright?” Hopper asked as soon as Eleven was out of earshot.
Sighing, Mike spoke up. “Whenever she uses her powers, she gets weak. The more energy she uses, the more tired she gets.”
“Like, she flipped the van earlier,” Lucas added, earning more confused looks from the adults.
“Yeah, it was awesome,” Dustin chimed in with a grin, and Gracie had to agree with him.
“But she’s drained,” Mike continued, getting back to the point. “Like a bad battery.”
“Well… how do we make her better?” Jonathan asked, desperation lacing his voice. He was desperate to even talk to his brother.
“We don’t,” Gracie replied, shaking her head. “We just have to wait and try again.”
“Well, how long?” Nancy asked, her anxiety evident.
Mike shrugged, leaning back against the fridge. “I don’t know.”
A somber mood settled over the group, the fear of running out of time looming over them. The bad men could come back before Eleven had regained her strength. But just then, Eleven re-entered the living room, her voice soft but resolute. “The bath.”
“What?” Joyce asked, confusion written on her face, just like everyone else.
“I can find them,” Eleven elaborated, “in the bath.”
Gracie stood up from her chair, her eyes widening as the realization hit her. “Like a sensory deprivation tank,” she murmured, thinking out loud.
“Like in Altered States!” Lucas exclaimed, excited by the idea. “But, you know, without the drugs.”
“Yeah, but does anyone here know how to build one of those?” Hopper cut in, crossing his arms.
“No,” Gracie admitted, “but I know someone who does.” She turned to Dustin, who had already caught on and was grinning from ear to ear.
“Mr. Clarke!” Dustin shouted, rushing over to the phone.
Gracie quickly found the teacher’s home number in the phone book and handed it to Dustin. He dialed, and after two rings, Mr. Clarke answered.
“Hello?” Dustin asked, his grin widening when he recognized the voice. “Mr. Clarke? It’s Dustin... I have a science question. Do you know anything about sensory deprivation tanks?”
Gracie took the phone from him, adding, “Specifically how to build one?”
“Sensory deprivation?” Mr. Clarke asked, sounding a bit puzzled. “What is this for?”
Thinking quickly, Gracie replied weakly, “Fun.”
“Okay, well… why don’t we talk about it on Monday?” Mr. Clarke suggested, clearly in the middle of something. Gracie mouthed to the group, “He’s saying later.”
Not ready to give up, Dustin grabbed the phone back from Gracie, cutting in before Mr. Clarke could make more excuses. “You always say we should never stop being curious. To always open any curiosity door we find. Why are you keeping this curiosity door locked?”
After a moment of silence, Dustin gave a thumbs-up, the rest of the group silently cheering. Gracie patted him on the back, impressed with how he’d convinced their teacher to help.
Quickly grabbing a notepad and pen, Dustin sat at the kitchen table, jotting down everything Mr. Clarke was telling him.
“Uh-huh,” he nodded as he scribbled down notes. “Uh-huh. How much? Uh-huh. Yep, all right. Yeah, we’ll be careful. Definitely. All right, Mr. Clarke. Yeah, I’ll see you on Monday. Bye.”
Hanging up the phone, Dustin turned to Joyce with urgency in his voice. “Do you still have that kiddie pool we bobbed for apples in?”
“I think so, yeah,” Joyce replied, nodding.
“Good,” Dustin said with a smile. “Then we just need salt. Lots of it.”
“How much is ‘lots’?” Gracie asked, her voice laced with apprehension.
She had every right to be worried. “1,500 pounds,” Dustin answered, glancing at his notepad.
“Where are we gonna get that much salt?” Nancy asked, the room falling silent as everyone pondered the challenge.
But Hopper straightened up, a determined look on his face. “I think I might know.”
The urgency of the situation buzzed in the air as Hopper quickly took charge, his voice firm as he gave instructions. "Alright, we don't have time to waste. We're going to the Hawkins Middle School."
------
The drive to the school was a blur, and before they knew it, they were there, the large, empty building looming over them in the night. Shadows from the streetlights danced across the exterior, adding to the sense of foreboding that hung in the air.
Hopper led the way, his expression set and determined as he used his keys to unlock the door. The school was eerily quiet, their footsteps echoing down the darkened halls as they made their way to the gym. Every creak and groan of the old building seemed magnified in the stillness, heightening the tension that gripped the group.
"This is where we'll set up," Hopper announced, flipping on the lights. The fluorescent bulbs flickered to life, casting a harsh, sterile light over the empty pool in the center of the gym.
The starkness of the scene was jarring, the cold tile and empty bleachers a stark contrast to the urgency of their mission. "Let's get to work. Jonathan, Gracie, come with me."
Quickly following the sheriff, Gracie and Jonathan made their way to the janitor's shed, where the school kept all the salt needed for the winter. The shed was small and musty, the faint smell of cleaning supplies mingling with the sharp scent of salt.
Jonathan hesitated as they opened the door to reveal the large stacks of salt bags. “It’s not gonna snow next week, is it?” he asked, a pang of guilt creeping in as he realized they were about to use up the school’s entire supply.
“Worst case, no school,” Gracie shrugged, trying to inject a bit of levity into the situation. The thought of a snowless winter wasn’t ideal, but at this moment, school closures felt like a small price to pay.
Jonathan, however, was still troubled. “Even if we find Will in there... what are we gonna do about that thing?” he asked, voicing the fear that had been gnawing at the back of Gracie’s mind.
It was a question she hadn’t wanted to confront, but now, faced with the reality of their situation, it was impossible to ignore. Things were moving so fast that none of them had really stopped to think about the next step. If Eleven found them, how were they going to actually rescue them?
“We’re not gonna do anything,” Hopper interjected, his tone firm as he tossed another bag of salt into the wheelbarrow they had found. He turned to look at them, his eyes serious. “I don’t want either of you anywhere near this, all right?”
“He’s my brother,” Jonathan argued, his voice filled with the same desperation Gracie felt. She quickly added, “And Barb’s my best friend.”
Hopper paused in his work, stepping closer to them. He placed a hand on both their shoulders, his gaze intense. “Listen to me. I’m gonna find them, all right? You gotta trust me on this. I am going to find them.”
His words were a promise, and the weight of that promise hung heavily in the air. There was an unspoken understanding between them all—Hopper was their best chance, but that didn’t make it any easier to stand aside.
Without waiting for a response, Hopper turned back to the task at hand, continuing to load the wheelbarrow with salt. Gracie and Jonathan exchanged a look, their shared doubt and fear evident in their eyes. They both wished they could do more, but disobeying Hopper didn’t feel like an option either.
Sighing, Gracie resumed hauling bags of salt, knowing that for now, this was how she could help. It wasn’t much, but it was something. And right now, something was better than nothing.
------
As soon as they packed the wheelbarrow to the brim with salt bags, the three of them trundled back to the gym where the pool had been set up. The scene was a flurry of activity, the sound of bags tearing open and the heavy thud of salt hitting the water filling the air.
Gracie worked alongside Dustin, their movements synchronized as they emptied the bags into the pool. “This is gonna work, right?” Dustin asked, his usual bravado giving way to a rare moment of uncertainty.
“It has to,” Gracie replied, her voice steady. “We don’t have another option.”
With the pool finally filled, Dustin dropped an egg into the water. It sank immediately, causing a collective groan of frustration. Gracie quickly grabbed another bag of salt, dumping it in with a sense of urgency. “Needs more salt,” she said, her focus unwavering.
Lucas, meanwhile, had just dropped the thermometer into the pool, his face scrunched in concern. “Dammit, it’s too cold again!” he shouted across the room.
“Hotter!” he yelled to Nancy, who was on the side adjusting the hose’s nozzle to warm the water. Gracie noticed Nancy struggling with the nozzle, clearly jammed and resistant.
“Here, let me,” Gracie offered, stepping forward to take over. She twisted the nozzle with all her strength, finally freeing it so that the water began to heat up. Just as they seemed to get a handle on the situation, Lucas’s voice rang out again, “Colder, colder!”
The routine continued as they adjusted the water temperature back and forth until Lucas finally shouted, “Perfect!” from his position on the other side of the room, his grin signaling that they had achieved the right conditions.
Sighing in relief, the group stopped the water. Gracie looked over at Nancy, noticing the worried expression etched on her face. She walked over and patted Nancy’s shoulder reassuringly. “Hey, come on, we’ve got to stay positive.”
Nancy shook her head, a small smile playing at her lips despite her anxiety. “I know, it’s just... Joyce has heard Will. But... Barb, I mean, there’s been nothing from her. What if she’s really—”
“We can’t think like that,” Gracie interjected, her voice firm. She was grappling with her own fears, clinging to the hope that Barb was still alive despite the bleakness of the situation. In her mind, if Will was alive, then Barb had to be too. The thought of losing her friend was too unbearable. “She—she has to be alive,” Gracie said more to herself than to Nancy, as if her words could somehow make it true.
Before their conversation could delve deeper into the grim possibilities, cheers erupted from the makeshift deprivation pool.
“It worked!” Dustin’s voice rang out with excitement. “The egg floated!”
Gracie’s face lit up with a smile at the sight of the boys' elation. She turned back to Nancy, grabbing her hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Come on, it’s time.”
Together, they joined the rest of the group around the pool, the tension momentarily lifted by the success of their makeshift sensory deprivation tank. The next steps were clear—they had done everything they could to prepare, and now it was time to see if their efforts would lead them to Will and, hopefully, Barb.
Eleven stood to the side, watching them with a mixture of anticipation and fear. The pool glistened with the saline water, the lights reflecting off its surface. Hopper stepped back, taking in the setup before nodding to Eleven. "Alright, kid. It's time."
Eleven hesitated for a moment, but Gracie was there, guiding her gently to the edge of the pool. "You’ve got this," Gracie whispered, offering her a reassuring smile.
Eleven took a deep breath, then stepped into the pool, the water rippling around her as she lay back, floating effortlessly. The room fell silent, all eyes on her as she closed her eyes and began to concentrate.
Gracie held her breath, watching as Eleven's face contorted with effort. The water around her seemed to hum with energy, a faint static filling the air.
And then, the room darkened, the lights flickering as Eleven's breathing grew heavier. The tension was almost unbearable as they all waited, hoping and praying that this would work.
Gracie braced herself, knowing that the last time the lights had flickered out like this in the AV room, they had found Will. The tension in the air was suffocating, and it only grew as Eleven’s breathing became labored, each exhale more frantic than the last. Everyone instinctively held their breath, hearts pounding in unison, waiting for whatever was about to unfold.
"Barb," Eleven murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
The name sent shockwaves through the group. Gracie and Nancy gasped simultaneously, their hands instinctively seeking each other out for comfort. Gracie’s heart leaped into her throat. She’d found Barb. Her best friend was within reach, yet the fear gnawing at her gut made it hard to feel relief. She squeezed Nancy’s hand, both of them clinging to a fragile thread of hope.
But then the electricity pulsed again, and Eleven began to whimper. Gracie’s eyes locked onto her, trying to make sense of what was happening.
"What’s going on?" Nancy asked, her voice trembling with panic.
"I—I don’t know," Gracie stammered, her own fear mirroring Nancy’s. The radio was still only picking up static. Eleven had called out Barb's name meaning she had found her. But why wasn't she saying anything? Why couldn't Gracie hear breathing? When they had found Will in the A.V room they had immediately heard his breathing. Gracie in that moment knew why she couldn't hear Barb, but she pushed that down hoping to god that she was wrong.
Nancy’s desperation spilled over. "Is Barb okay?" she pleaded, her voice cracking as she leaned closer to Eleven. "Is she okay?"
Eleven’s response shattered the fragile hope they’d been clinging to. "Gone! Gone!" she screamed, her voice breaking as she repeated the word over and over. "Gone! Gone! Gone!"
Gracie felt the floor drop out from under her. She couldn’t move, couldn’t think—she was paralyzed by the sheer weight of those words. Gone. The reality hit her like a truck. Barb wasn’t coming back.
Nausea churned in her stomach, and before she knew it, Gracie was stumbling from her position beside the kiddie pool, breaking free from Nancy’s tightening grip. She barely made it to the nearest trash can before vomiting, her body rejecting the overwhelming grief and denial she’d been holding onto. The world spun around her, everything crashing down at once.
For a moment, she allowed herself to cry, her sobs quiet but wrenching as she clung to the trash can. She couldn’t let the others see her like this. She needed to be strong, especially with Eleven now searching for Will. Will, who still had a chance. Barb was gone, but maybe—just maybe—they could still save him.
Gritting her teeth, Gracie forced herself to breathe, to push the grief down where it couldn’t paralyze her. She couldn’t lose both of them. Not tonight. Steeling herself, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and returned to the pool, where she took Nancy’s hand once more. The two girls shared a look of raw, unspoken pain—a look that said more than words ever could. They had lost their best friend, and nothing would ever be the same.
Gone. Gone.
The mantra echoed in Gracie’s mind until Eleven’s voice broke through, pulling her back to the present. "Castle Byers," Eleven whispered, her tone laced with fear. "Will."
Joyce’s gasp was filled with desperate hope as she leaned forward, grabbing Eleven’s arm. "You… you tell him… tell him I’m coming," she urged, her voice trembling with emotion.
"Mom is coming," Eleven mumbled, her words carrying across the room like a lifeline. For a brief, fleeting moment, the relief of knowing Will was still alive washed over Gracie, dulling the sharp edge of her grief.
But the reprieve was short-lived. The radio they had set up began to crackle with static, and everyone froze as they recognized the sound of Will’s labored breathing. "Hurry," Will’s voice came through, weak but urgent. The familiar growl of the Demogorgon followed, sending a jolt of terror through the group.
Gracie’s breath hitched, her body tensing as the growling intensified. Eleven began to pant, her distress evident as the lights flickered wildly. Then, with a final gasp, Eleven’s eyes shot open, and she struggled to sit up in the water. The moment she regained consciousness, she broke into sobs, the toll of her psychic journey overwhelming her.
Without hesitation, Gracie moved to cradle Eleven in her arms, holding her close as the younger girl trembled violently.
"You did good," Gracie whispered softly, her voice trembling with a mix of pride and sorrow. She gently rubbed Eleven’s shoulders, trying to warm her up and offer some comfort. "You did so good, El. I’ve got you. I’ve got you."
Eleven sobbed quietly against Gracie’s chest, and Gracie tightened her embrace, rocking her gently. She could feel the desperation in the air, the collective fear and hope clashing in the room. The weight of responsibility pressed heavily on her, but she refused to let it crush her. These kids were terrified, just like she was, but they were looking to her for strength.
As she held Eleven, Gracie’s eyes locked onto Joyce’s, filled with urgency and determination. "Go," she urged, her voice firm despite the turmoil inside her. "Bring Will back."
Joyce didn’t hesitate. With a nod of determination, she bolted out of the gym with Hopper, their footsteps echoing down the empty hallway as they raced to save her son. Looking around, Gracie saw Nancy run out of the gym in no doubt reeling from Barb's confirmed demise. Watching Jonathan follow her, Gracie longed to go with them. But one look back at Eleven who still held to her like a vice, she knew that this was where she was suppose to be.
Gracie watched them go, her heart pounding in her chest. The conflicting emotions of grief for Barb, hope for Will, and a deep-seated fear for what lay ahead all battled for dominance within her. But Gracie refused to let any of that show. She knew she had to be strong, not just for herself but for the kids who were looking up to her. Eleven, Mike, Dustin, Lucas—she had to be there for them, to protect them, to make sure they were safe. Even if she was falling apart inside, even if the weight of everything threatened to overwhelm her, she would not let them see it. They needed her to be strong, and she would be, for them.
Holding Eleven close, Gracie made a silent promise to herself: no matter what happened, she would not let these kids down. They had already lost so much, and she would do everything in her power to ensure they didn’t lose anything—or anyone—else.
steve harrington x gracie williams(eventually)
word count: 5,687
summary: not only is eleven lost but the party is momentarily split. on top of that, jonathan, nancy, and gracie embark on a mission to kill the demogorgon, but are distracted my nancy's new movie. steve proves once again he's a dick but at least gracie got see him get beat up.
masterlist
AFTER SPENDING THE REST OF THE DAYLIGHT HOURS SEARCHING FOR ELEVEN, THE PARTY FINALLY GAVE UP, EXHAUSTED AND DISHEARTENED. Lucas and Mike's tension was palpable, their silence a testament to their unresolved anger. But Gracie refused the group to separate, not letting any of them bike home alone in the dark.
She dropped a still angry Lucas off first, and then continued with Mike to Dustin’s house. As they neared the Wheeler residence, a car sped past them. Gracie squinted into the darkness, feeling a pang of recognition—she thought it might have been Steve’s, but her concern for Eleven made her dismiss the thought quickly.
They arrived at Mike's house and parked their bikes. The sight of Nancy’s car in the driveway was a small relief. At least she had made it home safely from her trip with Jonathan. The absence of a more pressing danger gave Gracie a moment of calm.
Mike, his mood even more somber than Gracie's, was clearly not up for conversation. Gracie knew better than to push him, so she simply followed him inside, allowing him to process his emotions in silence.
“You're coming in?” Mike asked, slightly confused by her presence.
“I’m gonna go see Nancy,” Gracie explained. Her worry about Eleven had made her almost forget about her friend’s situation. She wanted to make sure Nancy and Jonathan were okay.
“Okay, just meet us down in the basement tomorrow, alright?” Mike said, his voice strained. Gracie nodded, and Mike headed upstairs, leaving Gracie to walk down the hall toward Nancy’s room.
She knocked gently on the door. Nancy’s voice came through, strained and slightly panicked, “Mom, I’m... changing.”
Gracie could tell from Nancy’s tone that she was lying, and a rush of relief came over her. She was just glad to hear her friend’s voice. She pushed the door open and was greeted by a surprising sight: Nancy, covered in dirt and something slimy, was sitting on her bed with Jonathan beside her.
Before Gracie could say a word, Nancy threw her arms around her in a tight embrace. “Gracie,” Nancy cried out, her voice breaking as she clung to her friend.
Without hesitation, Gracie wrapped her arms around Nancy, her heart sinking as she felt the wetness of Nancy’s tears soaking through her shirt. Nancy’s sobs were muffled against Gracie’s shoulder.
“You were right,” Nancy eventually managed to say through her tears, her voice trembling. “We shouldn’t have gone. I—I should have listened.”
Gracie continued to hold her, her own emotions conflicted and raw. She looked over at Jonathan, who had stood up from the bed. His expression was unreadable, a mix of worry and resignation.
The room fell into a heavy silence as Nancy slowly calmed down. The three of them sat together, the atmosphere thick with unspoken fears and the weight of what had been discovered.
“Nancy, what happened?” Gracie asked softly, her concern evident. She needed to understand what had transpired during their absence.
Nancy took a deep breath, pulling her knees to her chest. “I—I can’t explain it clearly. We were in the forest, and suddenly I saw an opening in a tree,” she began, her voice still shaky. “I went inside, and it was like stepping into another world. I saw it—it was feeding on a deer. It was just like where I was seconds ago, but Jonathan wasn't there and it was-”
“Colder and darker?” Gracie interjected, taking a chance. Will had described the Upside Down in similar terms, and it sounded like Nancy had stumbled upon a gateway.
Nancy’s eyes widened in shock. “How did you know that?”
Jonathan’s surprise mirrored Nancy’s. “Yeah, those were the exact words Nancy used,” he said, looking at Gracie with curiosity.
Gracie’s face grew serious as she took a deep breath. “What I’m about to tell you—this doesn’t leave this room. Not a word to anyone outside of this room. You understand? Not even your mom, not yet.” Gracie said, focusing the last part to Jonathan.
Jonathan nodded earnestly, and Nancy looked at Gracie with a mix of fear and trust. Satisfied with their silent agreement, Gracie began to recount the recent events.
“It’s kind of a long story.” she started, her voice steady but tinged with exhaustion.
------
After retelling what the party had been up to with Jonathan and Nancy, both her and Jonathan decided to stay the night, no one feeling safe going out in the dark at this hour and everyone completely exhausted.
At first Jonathan all but forced Gracie and Nancy to share the bed while he slept on the floor, but Gracie wasn't having any of it. After all, their day somehow seemed entirely more tiring than hers and so she finally convinced Jonathan to share the bed with Nancy, almost having to push him on there herself. He was just like the rest of the Byers, too nice for their own good.
Waking up early in the morning, Gracie sat up to see Nancy and Jonathan already talking on the bed.
"Oh Gracie, you're up." Nancy said, "Did we wake you?"
Shaking her head, Gracie moved up to sit with the other two on the bed, sending Nancy a confused look at the biology book that was opened in front of them.
"I was just thinking, that wherever I was, that place... I think that it lives there. It was feeding there. Feeding on that deer." Nancy said, before taking a deep breath, "That means that if... if Will and Barbara..."
Gracie shook her head, Jonathan quickly rubbing Nancy's shoulder all three unable to take the possibility that that was the truth.
"My mom said she talked to Will." Jonathan said, trying to negate Nancy's worries, "If he’s alive, there’s a chance Barbara is, too."
"But that still means that she’s trapped... in that place." Nancy argued, "We have to find it again."
"You wanna go back out there?" Gracie asked.
"Maybe we don’t have to." Nancy said, "When I saw it, it was feeding on that deer. - Meaning it’s... it’s a predator, right?"
"Right."
"And it seems to hunt at night, like a... a lion or a coyote. But it doesn’t hunt in packs like them. It’s always alone, like... like a bear." She guessed, turning the page to find the information on bears. "And remember at Steve’s, when Barb cut herself?" Nancy continued, "And then, last night, the deer... It was bleeding, too."
Taking the blood, Gracie flipped to the page on sharks, "Sharks can detect blood in one part per million. That’s one drop of blood in a million, and they can smell it from a quarter mile away." Gracie read out as Nancy nodded her head.
"So you’re saying it can detect blood?" Jonathan asked, earning a shrug from Nancy
"It’s just a theory." Nancy said.
"We could test it." Gracie suggested, "But if it works..."
"At least we’ll know it’s coming this time." Jonathan finished, "This time, we'll be prepared."
"We'll need supplies then." Gracie said, "Weapons."
"There's a fishing and gun store in town." Nancy suggested, "We could go now."
Just then a knock was heard from the door, Nancy's mom booming from the other side that made all three teens jump, "Honey, are you up?"
"Yeah, I'm uh making the bed! Gracies here too!" Nancy called out, knowing it wouldn't be weird to hear that her best friend had stayed over. After all, when she had went last night she had told her mother she had gone to hang out with Gracie.
"Oh Gracie stayed the night?" Karen asked with zero suspicion, "Well when you both are ready come down, I made some blueberry pancakes."
"Thanks!" Both girls said in unison, sighing in relief. Looking to her side, Gracie saw Nancy holding Jonathan's hand, something that probably happened when Karen had surprsied them. Smirking at the sight, Gracie reminded herself to ask both of them about that later.
Suddenly, Karen's voice was heard again, yelling "Oh and Gracie dear, Mike and Dustin are in the basement if you wanted to see them."
Cringing, Gracie forgot that she had promised Mike last night she'd go meet them in the basement. Looking up towards Nancy and Jonathan, she said, "Shoot, I forgot about your brother. Give me ten minutes and then I'll come back up and we'll go through the window so your mom doesn't see Jonathan." Gracie said, Nancy and Jonathan nodding their heads at her suggestion. Saying one last goodbye, Gracie promptly closing it in case anyone saw Jonathan on the bed. Going down stairs, she quickly said hi to Mrs. Wheeler before heading to see Mike and Dustin.
Passing the living room, Gracie looked out the window to see a white van that read Hawkins Electricity and Lights parked right outside the Wheeler's house. Taking a double take at it, having never seen such a company in the small town of Hawkins before, Gracie shrugged it off making her way down to the basement.
------
As Gracie descended into the basement, she couldn’t help but notice the emptiness that came with Eleven's absence. Her worry for the girl gnawed at her, but she had to focus on the task at hand.
"Where's Lucas?" Gracie asked, seeing Mike and Dustin huddled together, their expressions tinged with frustration.
"We commed him, but I don't think he's coming," Dustin sighed, his voice heavy with disappointment. "He's probably still mad at Mike for yesterday."
Mike shook his head, frustration evident. "He's the one who overreacted! Eleven just messed up the compasses because she wanted to protect us. She didn’t betray us."
Gracie agreed with Mike; she knew Eleven had acted with the best intentions. But she also understood Lucas's perspective. He was scared, desperate to find Will, and he felt like Eleven was hindering their efforts.
"I shouldn’t have yelled at her," Mike said, guilt creeping into his voice. "I never should’ve done that."
"Mike, this isn’t your fault," Dustin said, trying to comfort him.
But Mike wasn't having it. "Yeah, it’s Lucas’."
Gracie stepped in, her tone firm but understanding. "It wasn’t his fault, either."
Mike looked at her, incredulous. "So you’re saying he wasn’t way out of line?"
"Totally," Dustin interjected, "but so were you! And so was Eleven."
Mike rolled his eyes. "Oh, give me a break!"
"No, Mike, you give me a break!" Dustin shot back, his voice rising. "All three of you were being a bunch of little assholes! Gracie and I were the only reasonable ones."
Gracie nodded in agreement. "Dustin’s right. But the bottom line is, you pushed first. And you know the rule. You draw first blood..."
Mike cut her off, shaking his head. "No! No way! I’m not shaking his hand."
"Oh, you’re shaking his hand!" Gracie demanded, crossing her arms in a stance that brooked no argument.
"No, I’m not," Mike insisted, his stubbornness rearing up.
"This isn’t a discussion," Gracie stated, her tone leaving no room for debate. "I'm the babysitter. I get final say."
Dustin, ever the voice of reason, nodded. "This is the rule of law. Obey or be banished from the party. Do you wanna be banished?"
Mike hesitated, the weight of the situation settling on him. Finally, he sighed, defeated. "No."
Gracie smiled, pleased with his concession. She grabbed their backpacks and tossed them to each of the boys. "Good."
"Where are we going?" Mike asked, confusion replacing his earlier frustration.
"Where do you think?" Gracie replied, as if the answer was obvious. "You guys are going to get Lucas. And then you're going to find Eleven. Stay in town, though—nowhere near the woods, you hear me?"
Her protective instincts flared up, wanting to keep them as safe as possible. The last thing she needed was for something to happen to them while they were out searching. She was tempted to go with them but she also knew that she had already abandoned Nancy once and she wasn't going to do that again either.
"You aren't coming with us?" Dustin asked, clearly confused by her lack of presence. She was apart of the party, it didn't even seem like a question that she wouldn't.
"I have... something to do," Gracie trailed off, not wanting to worry them with the details of her next task.
"But—" Mike began to protest, but Gracie cut him off.
"Look, I'll have my walkie-talkie on, so just give me a call if you need me, okay?" she compromised, knowing it was the only way they'd let her go without a fight. Before the boys could argue further, Gracie practically pushed them out of the basement, ordering, "Now go find Lucas and apologize."
With the boys gone, Gracie quickly raced back upstairs, her heart pounding. Jonathan and Nancy would be waiting for her—they had their own dangerous mission ahead, one that would involve hunting the monster that had caused so much terror in their lives.
As she reached the top of the stairs, Gracie steeled herself for what was to come. They had no time to waste.
Gracie had never set foot in the hunting store before. She'd always found the idea of hunting disturbing, with its unnecessary violence and bloodshed. But now, faced with the reality that the creature they were hunting was responsible for both Barb and Will's disappearances, her perspective had shifted. She was ready to do whatever it took to take down the monster.
The three of them—Gracie, Jonathan, and Nancy—had spent the last hour gathering everything they thought they might need: guns, bullets, nails, and bear traps. As they approached the register, the man behind the counter looked at them with raised eyebrows, clearly surprised by the sheer amount of supplies they were purchasing. Gracie was a bit shocked too, realizing how strange it must look for three teenagers to be buying so much gear without any questions being asked.
"I’ll have four boxes of the .38s," Jonathan said, his voice wavering slightly as he tried to appear confident.
The cashier gave a noncommittal hum as he scanned the items. "What you kids doin’ with all this?" he asked, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.
Jonathan hesitated, clearly struggling to come up with a believable excuse, but Nancy quickly stepped in. "Monster hunting," she said, her tone light but with an edge of seriousness that seemed to throw the man off.
Gracie watched as the cashier let out a small laugh and shrugged, seemingly satisfied with the explanation. He finished ringing up their purchases without further comment. As they walked out of the store, arms laden with supplies, they headed back to Jonathan’s car to pack everything into the trunk.
“Monster hunting?" Jonathan echoed, chuckling as he loaded the last of the gear into the car. Nancy and Gracie joined in, laughing at the absurdity of it all.
Nancy shook her head, a nostalgic smile on her face. "You know, last week... Gracie and I were shopping for a new top. I thought Steve might like it."
"Don't remind me," Gracie groaned playfully. "She took the whole damn weekend."
Nancy nudged her, a smile still on her lips. "It seemed like life or death, you know? And now—" She gestured to the bear traps and ammunition.
"You're both shopping for bear traps with Jonathan Byers?" Jonathan teasingly asked with a small smile, "What’s the weirdest part? Me or the bear traps?"
Nancy grinned. "You. Definitely you," she teased, earning a light-hearted laugh from everyone.
Gracie watched the interaction between Nancy and Jonathan, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She never would have thought it, but the two actually seemed really cute together. There was a certain ease between them that she hadn’t seen before.
"Who woulda thought," Gracie said with a grin, "Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Byers, Jancy!"
Both Nancy and Jonathan blushed at the comment, and Nancy was about to protest when a sudden honk interrupted them.
All three turned to see a car pulling up alongside them. The driver, a high schooler a year ahead of them, leaned out the window with a smirk. "Hey, Nance! Can’t wait to see your movie," he called out before speeding off, leaving the trio bewildered.
"What the hell was that?" Gracie asked, watching the car disappear around the corner.
"I don’t know," Jonathan replied, just as confused. They both turned to see that Nancy had already taken off in the direction the car had come from.
"Hey! Where are you going?" Jonathan called after her, but Nancy didn’t stop. She ran past the block corner and into the main part of town, with Gracie and Jonathan quickly following behind her.
They caught up with her in front of the movie theater. Panting, Gracie looked at Nancy, who was staring up at the marquee with a horrified expression. Following her gaze, Gracie's breath caught in her throat when she saw what was written in bright orange graffiti: Starring Nancy the Slut Wheeler.
"Jesus," Jonathan breathed, his voice filled with shock and disgust.
Gracie stared at the marquee, fury boiling inside her. There were only so many people in the world who would do something like that and Gracie took a good guess at who. Just when she thought that he was a better person than she’d thought, she supposed she was right about Steve and his posse all along. But before she could say anything, Nancy had already taken off again, sprinting around the corner. Gracie and Jonathan exchanged a quick glance before running after her.
They found her in an alleyway, walking straight toward Steve and his group of friends. Tommy H. was holding an orange spray can, adding the words "Byers is a Perv" to the wall. Gracie was sad to have been right about the true nature of Steve Harrington. The sight of it only fueled Gracie’s anger, and she was about to step forward when a sharp slap echoed through the alley.
Nancy stood in front of Steve, her hand still raised from the slap, her face a mask of anger and betrayal. Steve looked shocked, holding his face where she’d struck him.
"What is wrong with you?" Nancy seethed, glaring at him with a mixture of hurt and rage.
Steve, still reeling from the slap, scoffed. "What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you? I was worried about you. I can’t believe that I was actually worried about you."
Nancy looked at him, confused and furious. "What are you talking about?"
Carol stepped forward with a smirk. "I wouldn’t lie if I were you. You don’t want to be known as the lying slut now, do you?"
Gracie’s temper flared, and she stepped forward, pointing directly at Carol. "Listen here, you bitch—"
But before she could finish, Nancy pushed her back, still glaring at Steve. "Gracie, I've got this."
Reluctantly, Gracie stepped back, standing beside Jonathan, her fists clenched at her sides. She figured if Nancy wanted to handle it on her own, then she should.
"You came by last night," Nancy said, piecing together what must have happened. He must have snuck up her window and seen her and Jonathan together before Gracie had arrived.
"Ding! Ding! Ding!" Carol taunted, her voice dripping with mockery. "Does she get a prize?"
Gracie bit her tongue, forcing herself to stay quiet out of respect for Nancy, who was clearly trying to handle the situation herself.
"Look, I don’t know what you think you saw, but it wasn’t like that," Nancy tried to explain, her voice desperate to make Steve understand.
But Steve just scoffed again, his expression hardening. "What, you just let him into your room to... study?"
"Or for another pervy photo session?" Tommy added, his comment met with laughter from the rest of the group.
Jonathan tensed beside Gracie, and she instinctively placed a calming hand on his arm, silently pleading with him to keep it together.
"We were just—" Nancy began, but Steve cut her off coldly.
"You were just what?" he demanded, his voice laced with venom. "Finish the sentence."
Nancy’s silence spoke volumes, and Steve’s expression twisted with disgust. "Go to hell, Nancy." At this Gracie couldn’t help but sneer at Steve, whose character was reaching a lower opinion from Gracie with every passing second. She couldn't quite believe this was the same boy whom she'd spilled her feelings two days before.
Jonathan couldn’t take it anymore. He stepped forward, grabbing Nancy’s hand. "Come on, Nancy, let’s just leave."
Gracie nodded in agreement, shooting one last glare at Steve before turning to leave. "Yeah, let's go."
But Steve wasn’t done. "You know what, Byers? I’m actually kind of impressed. I always took you for a queer, but I guess you’re just a little screw-up like your father."
They all froze, their backs still turned to Steve. Jonathan’s entire body tensed, and Nancy tugged on his arm, trying to keep him from reacting.
Gracie looked over her shoulder, her voice sharp. "Harrington, shut the hell up."
But Steve ignored her, pressing on. "Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah. That house is full of screw-ups. You know, I guess I shouldn’t really be surprised. A bunch of screw-ups in your family."
Jonathan’s breathing grew heavier as he struggled to contain his anger.
"I’m not even surprised what happened to your brother. I mean your mom—"
"Keep Will's name out of your mouth!" Gracie shouted, any desire she had to keep the situation peaceful evaporating the moment Steve mentioned Will.
But Steve kept going. "I’m sorry I have to be the one to tell you, but the Byers, their family, it’s a disgrace to the entire—"
Jonathan snapped. Before anyone could stop him, he whirled around and punched Steve square in the face. Steve stumbled back from the impact, and for a moment, everything seemed to pause.
Then, with a burst of anger, Steve charged at Jonathan, and the two of them were suddenly locked in a full-on fight. Jonathan, fueled by rage, had the upper hand, managing to push Steve to the ground as punches were thrown.
"Stop! Steve! Knock it off, you guys!" Nancy yelled, horrified by the scene unfolding before her.
But Gracie, seeing that Jonathan was actually winning, able to pin Steve to the ground before sending another devastating blow to his face was quick to cheer him on, "Yeah, beat his ass, Jonathan!"
Sirens suddenly blared in the distance, the sound growing louder as a police car turned into the alleyway. Steve’s friends scattered at the sight, running off before they could be caught. But Jonathan, still consumed by anger, continued his assault on Steve, oblivious to the approaching cops.
The officers quickly intervened, pulling Jonathan off of Steve, who scrambled to his feet and took off running, not wanting to stick around and get arrested. Almost running right into Gracie, in his attempt to flee, the boy stumbled back to avoid crashing into her.
In the short amount of respite the two had while the officers worked on detaining and cuffing Jonathan, the two were frozen in time. Staring right at him, Gracie couldn't quite express everything she was feeling. She was angry for sure, pissed actually for both Nancy and Jonathan. Moreover she was disappointed. She had really just begun to think that maybe the boy was better than she'd thought after their smoke session. But she knew now she'd been deeply wrong.
Gracie was so caught up in how she felt she barely even noticed the look of embarrassment and regret that was crossing Steve's face. He felt the pit in his stomach grow as he took in Gracie's face of betrayal.
"You really are an asshole Harrington." Gracie sighed, the boy's face crossed with even more regret than before. The words hurt more than he'd thought they would.
Opening his mouth, he looked as if he were about to say something. However, the clatter from the back made Steve snap his head to where Jonathan was being bent over the police car. Knowing he was running out of time and that he would never find a decent respond to Gracie, he turned his head back to the girl, glancing at her one more time before taking off.
Turning to watch Steve retreat, Gracie yelled after him, her voice filled with a renewed anger. "Yeah, that’s right, Harrington! You better run! Or Byers here is gonna beat your ass up again!"
Looking back, she saw Jonathan being pushed down on the cop car arrested while Nancy watched in shock. Realization dawning on her, Gracie knew that they were going to have to go down to the police station. On top of that, it didn't help their situation when the police would find the bear traps, guns, and bullets in the back of their car.
Sharing a knowing look with Nancy, Gracie sighed, "Oh this isn't good."
-------
Gracie had been completely right. Now, she, Jonathan, and Nancy found themselves waiting at the police station to be picked up. Thankfully, since it was Jonathan who had gotten into the fight and technically his car that all their supplies were in, only Jonathan was really kept at the station.
But, of course, Gracie and Nancy stayed by his side, unwilling to leave him alone while they waited for his mother to come pick him up.
As Nancy went to get an ice pack for Jonathan's bruised hand, Gracie patted him on the shoulder, smiling. "You know, putting aside all that 'violence is never the answer' bullshit, I'm glad someone finally beat Steve's ass."
Jonathan laughed, agreeing wholeheartedly. "It did feel pretty good."
"And you looked super badass doing it," Gracie added, watching as a small blush crept up Jonathan's face. "... I'm sure Nancy thought so too."
His blush deepened, and Gracie smirked at his reaction. "What? I-I... It's not like that—"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Gracie rolled her eyes with a laugh. "Cut the crap, would you?"
Jonathan opened his mouth to protest but then sighed in defeat, looking sheepishly at Gracie. "Is it that obvious?"
Shrugging, Gracie replied, "To me it is. But don't worry, Nancy is none the wiser."
"Right," Jonathan said, feeling both relieved and a bit deflated by the reassurance that Nancy didn’t recognize his feelings.
Sensing his mixed emotions, Gracie softened her tone and gently placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "For what it’s worth, I think she likes you too."
"You think?" Jonathan asked, surprise and a hint of hope lighting up his face.
Before Gracie could respond, static crackled from her walkie-talkie, and Mike’s voice boomed out. "Gracie, are you there?"
Gracie quickly pulled out the device from her backpack, glancing apologetically at Jonathan. "Sorry, gotta take this."
Jonathan waved her off, understanding, as Gracie stepped out into the hallway to ensure she wasn’t overheard. "Yeah, I’m here," she responded. "What’s up? Did you guys make up?"
"Not really..." Mike trailed off. He and Dustin were pedaling around town, trying to find Eleven.
"Mike—" Gracie started, her tone already carrying the hint of a scolding.
"I tried to shake his hand!" Mike quickly defended himself, anticipating the older girl’s reprimand. "But he wanted to forget about Eleven!"
Gracie sighed, pacing the hallway as she processed this. "So where is he now?"
"See, that’s the other thing..." Dustin’s voice came over the walkie-talkie as he took it from Mike. "We don’t exactly know where he went."
Gracie halted, her eyes narrowing in concern. "What do you mean you don’t know?"
"He kinda... left to go find Will."
"What!" Gracie’s voice rose in alarm, catching the attention of a passing police officer. She flashed him a sheepish smile, waiting for him to move on before she continued.
"We tried to stop him! But before we could, he’d already jumped on his bike, and now we think he’s somewhere in the woods!" Dustin explained, his tone apologetic.
The thought of Lucas alone in the woods sent a shiver down Gracie’s spine. She was suddenly reminded of why she never left the boys alone for too long. "I leave you three alone for two hours, and you already did something stupid."
"Hey, blame Lucas, not us!" Dustin defended, and Gracie silently agreed. Lucas was out of line this time, but her disagreement with him wasn’t going to stop her from protecting him at all costs.
Pinching the bridge of her nose, Gracie quickly formulated a plan. "Okay, here’s what’s gonna happen. You guys keep looking for Eleven for another hour and then go home, got it? None of you are biking back in the dark. I’m going to the woods to find Lucas. You and Dustin are gonna go to the basement and stay there. You hear me?"
"But—"
"No buts!" Gracie interrupted, glancing at the clock. She sighed in relief, seeing it was only three o’clock and that they still had enough daylight. "If it gets later than five, and I’m not back with Lucas or haven’t communicated with either of you, then get Jonathan and Nancy. Over and out."
Not waiting for a response, Gracie quickly made her way out of the station, not even bothering to say goodbye to Jonathan or Nancy. She knew they’d be fine—they had each other. But right now, Lucas didn’t have anyone, and that wasn’t something Gracie could take lightly in times like these.
------
Gracie hurried out of the police station, and now she was deep in the woods, her mind racing with worry. The thought of Lucas out there alone, especially with everything that had been happening, gnawed at her. Gracie's protective instincts were in overdrive, and she was determined to find him and bring him back safely.
As she pedaled on her bike, the trees grew denser, and the path became less familiar, but Gracie kept going, following her compass, knowing that Lucas was likely doing the same. The sun was still high enough, but she knew time was running out before it would begin to set. She pressed on, focusing on the path ahead, praying that Lucas hadn’t gone too far.
Her thoughts briefly drifted back to Jonathan and Nancy. She hoped they would understand why she left so abruptly, but she knew she couldn’t afford to wait any longer. Lucas needed her, and that was all that mattered right now.
Gracie’s heart pounded in her chest as she ventured deeper into the woods, calling out Lucas’s name, hoping he would answer back. Her voice echoed through the trees, the only response being the rustling of leaves and the occasional chirping of birds. With every step, her worry deepened as the shadows lengthened, making the woods feel more ominous.
The further she went, the trees began to clear, revealing a large, foreboding facility up ahead. Gracie’s breath caught in her throat as she recognized the place from her worst suspicions—this was where the gate was. The realization hit her hard: this wasn’t just some supernatural phenomenon. Actual people had created this hole, and they were letting innocent kids like Will suffer the consequences.
“Lucas!” she called again, her voice louder this time, straining with desperation. By now, she had reached the fence surrounding the facility. She prayed he hadn’t gone inside or, worse, been dragged in by someone.
She paused, listening intently. For a moment, there was nothing but silence. Then, faintly, she thought she heard something—a rustling, a movement somewhere nearby. Gracie’s heart leaped in her chest, and she quickly moved toward the sound, her feet crunching on the underbrush.
“Lucas, is that you?” she called, her voice filled with urgency.
As she neared the source of the noise, Gracie saw a familiar figure behind a tree.
“Lucas!” Gracie shouted, relief washing over her as she finally caught sight of him. He was holding onto a nearby tree branch, seemingly preparing to climb higher.
Lucas looked up sharply at the sound of her voice, his expression a mix of surprise and defiance. “Gracie? What are you doing here?”
Gracie hurried over, her relief quickly turning into exasperation. “What am I doing here? What are you doing here? You shouldn’t be out here alone! And why are you climbing a tree?”
“I was trying to get a better look at this place. I’m looking for Will!” Lucas shot back defensively as he climbed down from the tree and back to the ground. “Someone has to!”
Gracie stood beside him, trying to keep her voice calm. “I know you want to find him, but you can’t do this by yourself. It’s too dangerous.”
Lucas’s eyes flashed with anger. “I’m not afraid. I can take care of myself.”
“I know you’re brave, Lucas,” Gracie said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. “But this isn’t about bravery. It’s about being smart. We need to stick together, especially with everything that’s been happening. I don’t want anything to happen to you, okay?”
For a moment, Lucas didn’t say anything, his gaze dropping to the ground. Gracie could see the conflict in his eyes—the desire to be strong and independent, clashing with the fear he was trying so hard to hide.
“Lucas, please,” Gracie continued, her voice gentle. “We’ll find Will, but we need to do it together.”
"You mean with Eleven?" Lucas asked, a tinge of annoyance creeping into his voice at the mention of the girl.
Sighing, Gracie nodded her head. "She’s part of the party too."
"Why does everyone keep saying that?" Lucas asked, throwing his hands up in frustration. "She’s not! Me, Mike, Dustin, you, and Will, that’s it! The party doesn’t expand—it just doesn’t!"
"That’s bull!"
"No, it’s not!" Lucas argued.
"What, so I’m not part of the party then?" Gracie asked, crossing her arms.
"What? Of course you are—"
"But technically, I only joined like two years ago," Gracie replied.
"That’s different—"
"But it isn’t," Gracie said definitively. "Just because Eleven is new doesn’t mean she’s excluded from the party." Seeing Lucas open his mouth to argue, then close it, unable to find a response, Gracie softened her tone. Placing a hand on his shoulder, she added, "Lucas, she needs us. And if we want to get Will back, we need her too, and you know it. Let’s head back, okay?”
Lucas hesitated at first but then nodded slowly. "Fine."
Giving him a proud smile, Gracie wrapped an arm around the boy’s shoulders as they turned back toward their bikes. Just as they were about to mount, they heard the sound of a car engine, prompting them to look toward the source.
What they saw made their blood run cold: not just one but at least six white vans with the logo "Hawkins Electricity and Lights" plastered on the side. Narrowing her eyes, Gracie felt a creeping sense of familiarity.
Upon hearing Lucas gasp, Gracie quickly looked down at him. "What?"
"I saw those outside of Mike’s house when I passed it to come here this afternoon!" Lucas revealed, his memory jogging Gracie’s as well.
"Me too!" she said. "In the morning, like around eight."
"So it was just sitting out there for like, what, five hours?" Lucas asked, the eeriness of the time difference settling over both of them.
It didn’t take long for Gracie and Lucas to piece it together: the same van that seemed to belong to the facility with the gate also happened to be parked right outside the Wheeler residence, where they were hiding Eleven. Just then, the vans began to pull out of the facility, heading in the direction of Mike’s house.
"Shit!" Lucas exclaimed. "They know we have Eleven!"
"We need to warn them!" Gracie said urgently. The two wasted no time hopping on their bikes and pedaling as fast as they could, racing to save their friends.
steve harrington x gracie williams(eventually)
word count:6,576
summary: knowing that will was alive now, the party must attend his funeral, but come out of it with a bit more insight thanks to mr. clarke. gracie tries to talk nancy and jonathan out of doing something stupid and also goes on a hunt to find will but ends of up losing another kid instead. another great day for the babysitter.
masterlist
RUNNING HOME AFTER SETTING OFF A FIRE AT THE MIDDLE SCHOOL, THE PARTY RUSHED BACK DOWN TO MIKE'S BASEMENT. Their thoughts were far from the accidental crime they’d just committed, focused instead on the mystery surrounding Will’s whereabouts.
"What was Will saying?" Dustin asked, plopping down on the couch, out of breath.
"Like home... Like home..." Mike replied, pacing back and forth across the room, his mind racing.
Gently placing Eleven down beside Dustin, Gracie added, "But dark?" Swatting Dustin off the couch, she laid Eleven nicely on it before grabbing a blanket to cover the girl. Finding a pillow from her fort, she gently put it under Eleven's head, making sure she was in a comfortable resting position before re joining the conversation with the boys.
"And empty," Mike confirmed, pausing mid-step. He furrowed his brow, trying to remember. "Empty and cold. Wait, did he say cold?"
"I don’t know," Gracie groaned, frustration evident in her voice. "The stupid radio kept going in and out."
"It’s like riddles in the dark," Lucas said, shaking his head in exasperation. "Like home… Like his house?"
"Or maybe like Hawkins," Dustin suggested, as they all tried their best to decipher Will's distorted words.
Suddenly, Eleven, who was lying on the couch, mumbled, "Upside down."
“What’d she say?” Dustin asked, everyone turning to look at her in confusion.
"Upside down," Eleven repeated, her voice barely a whisper.
Still puzzled, Lucas asked again, "What?"
But instead of elaborating further, Eleven simply repeated her answer, "Upside down."
Gracie sighed, shaking her head. "Guys, she's too tired. Leave her alone."
As Lucas and Dustin deflated, giving up on cracking the code, Mike suddenly gasped. He rushed over to the table where their Dungeons & Dragons set was still laid out. "When El showed us where Will was, she flipped the board over, remember?"
The others gathered around him as Mike grabbed the board and flipped it over. "Upside down," he said, smoothing his hand over the black surface as if it held the answer to their problem. "Dark. Empty," he continued, trying to put the pieces together.
Dustin looked at the others, still confused. "Do you understand what he’s talking about?" he asked, turning to Lucas and Gracie.
Lucas shook his head, still perplexed, but Gracie stared intently at the board. Her eyes widened as a thought struck her. "No, I think Mike's onto something," she said, her voice thoughtful.
"Thank you!" Mike exclaimed, relieved that someone was on the same page.
Seeing Lucas and Dustin’s still confused expressions, Gracie began to explain, piecing it together as she spoke. "Guys, come on, just think about it. When El took us to find Will, she took us to his house, right?"
The boys nodded, following her lead.
"And he wasn’t there," Gracie continued, her mind racing. "But what if he was there?"
"What if we just couldn’t see him?" Mike added, the idea taking shape in his mind. "What if he was on the other side?"
Gracie grabbed the board, flipping it back to the front side. "What if this is Hawkins and..." She turned it over again, pointing to a random part of the black abyss. "This is where Will is?"
"The Upside Down," Lucas concluded, the realization dawning on him as Dustin stared in awe.
"Like the Vale of Shadows," Dustin said, referencing the ominous D&D realm.
Nodding her head, Gracie repeated, "Like the Vale of Shadows. The only question is, how do we get there?"
The weight of their discovery hung in the air, the enormity of what they were about to face settling in.
------
The next day, Gracie was dressed fully in black. As she and a few others sat around the casket lowering into the ground, Gracie watched "Will" slowly disappear, a sermon being read but not heard by her ears. The words were lost on her, drowned out by the tumult of her thoughts.
She tried to look as sad as she could, lowering her head so no one could see her face. All she kept telling herself was that it wasn't him. She didn’t know what exactly they were burying, but she had heard Will’s voice just yesterday in the AV room. The memory was still fresh, overpowering the reality before her.
It occurred to her that it might have been far-fetched but not impossible for someone to be covering up Will's disappearance. Her mind flashed back to Barb's car, which had mysteriously vanished from where she and Nancy had found it the day after Barb disappeared. The logistics didn't really matter to her now, though. She was blinded by hope—hope for the future and hope that Will and Barb might still come home. So she refused to let herself believe that Will's literal casket was being lowered into the ground.
As she looked around the crowd of mourners, Gracie was reminded that, for some, this was all too real. A small blonde girl, about the boys' age, was sniffling back tears on the left. The sight brought Gracie back to the present, to the gravity of what everyone else was feeling.
Dustin noticed the girl too, grinning as he whispered, "Just wait till we tell Will that Jennifer Hayes was crying at his funeral."
The other boys broke into smiles, but Gracie quickly shushed them from behind, not wanting anyone to catch on that they weren’t really grieving.
Soon, the crowd began to disperse, the closer friends and family heading to the wake. Before Gracie could fully process the moment, she was suddenly tugged from behind, dragged away to sit behind a nearby fence.
"Nancy, Jonathan!" Gracie whisper-yelled as they all settled against the fence, her voice sharp with confusion. "What the hell—"
But whatever they were discussing was urgent. Nancy cut her off, "Gracie, look." She pointed to a map that Jonathan held, her tone serious. Gracie leaned in to see two Xs marked near each other.
"The Xs are where Barb and Will were taken," Nancy explained, her voice tense. "So, that’s... Steve’s house. And that’s the woods where they found Will’s bike and... that’s my house."
"It’s all so close," Gracie breathed out, realizing they had come to the same conclusion she had feared. Whatever this thing was, it was the same one that had taken both of them.
"Yeah. Exactly," Jonathan nodded, his voice grim. "I mean, it’s all within a mile or something. Whatever this thing is, it’s... it’s not traveling far."
Gracie’s eyes widened even more as she realized where they were heading with this. "Hold up, you guys aren’t seriously suggesting we go out there."
"We might not find anything," Nancy said, defending the idea. "But shouldn’t we at least check?"
"You found something last time," Gracie argued, pointing back to when they had gone to the woods to find Barb. "And what if you do see it? Then what?" Gracie asked, her concern growing. It all seemed reckless to her.
"We kill it," Jonathan replied after a beat of silence, his voice full of determination. Nancy nodded in agreement, sharing his resolve.
"No. Absolutely not."
"Gracie—"
"No, are you guys crazy?" Gracie asked, her voice rising with anxiety. "You want us to go where this thing took both Will and Barbara, and what are you gonna do—shoot it?"
"Well, yeah," Jonathan said as if it was the most logical plan in the world. "I mean, if we all went—"
"We don't even know what it's capable of!" Gracie cut him off, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and frustration. She knew that both of them understood it was a faceless monster, but they still believed it was something from their world. They didn’t know the full truth—that this creature came from a dark and twisted place, a place where normal rules didn’t apply. If they went looking for it, they could get trapped in the Upside Down too, and that wasn’t a risk Gracie was willing to take.
She wanted to tell them about Eleven, to make them understand just how dangerous this thing really was, but before she could argue further, Dustin called her name, his voice sharp and insistent. Gracie didn’t need to turn to know it was him.
"Gracie! Let's go!"
Sighing, Gracie stood up, looking down at Jonathan and Nancy with a mix of frustration and concern. "Look, I want to find Barb and Will just as much as you guys do, but please, this isn't a good idea. Don't do this."
Turning away, Gracie hurried to find the boys, who wer still standing near Will's new grave. "Where the hell did you go?" Mike asked.
Shaking her head, Gracie sighed. "Just... needed to take a walk. Why, what's wrong?"
"We gotta go to the wake." Dustin said, "We gotta talk with Mr. Clarke."
------
Arriving at the wake, the four quickly made their way to Mr. Clarke, who was currently near the refreshments table. He looked up, momentarily startled by their approach, but quickly masked his surprise with a warm smile.
"Oh, hey there. How are you guys holding up?" Mr. Clarke asked, his tone sympathetic.
"We’re... in... mourning," Lucas stumbled over his words, frowning deeply to sell the act.
Dustin, however, was more focused on the food. He grabbed a plateful of snacks and muttered, "Dammit, Gracie, these aren’t real Nilla Wafers."
As everyone’s attention shifted to Dustin, he quickly dropped the plate, pretending to be upset as well. Ignoring the commotion, Gracie turned back to Mr. Clarke. "We were wondering if you had some time to talk?"
"We have a lot of questions," Mike added, his voice urgent.
Soon, all five of them had settled around an empty table, and Mike didn’t waste any time getting to the point. "So, you know how in Cosmos, Carl Sagan talks about other dimensions? Like, beyond our world?"
Mr. Clarke nodded, adjusting his glasses. "Yeah, sure. Theoretically."
"Right, theoretically," Mike quickly corrected, leaning forward.
"So, theoretically, how would we travel there?" Lucas asked, as Dustin continued to munch on his food.
Gracie, exasperated, slapped the Nilla Wafer out of Dustin’s hand and gave him a look that said, “Pay attention.”
"You guys have been thinking about Hugh Everett’s Many-Worlds Interpretation, haven’t you?" Mr. Clarke asked, noting Gracie’s nod.
"Definitely... it’s our, um, favorite interpretation," Gracie said, trying to sound casual. She paused, then asked, "What exactly does it involve again?"
"Well, basically, it suggests there are parallel universes—just like our world, but with infinite variations. Which means there’s a version of our world where none of this tragic stuff ever happened," Mr. Clarke explained, assuming this was related to Will. He was somewhat right, but no one corrected him.
Lucas shook his head, cutting off Mr. Clarke. "Yeah, that’s not quite what we’re talking about."
"We’re thinking of something more like an evil dimension, like the Vale of Shadows," Dustin corrected. "You know the Vale of Shadows?"
Mr. Clarke began to explain, "An echo of the Material Plane, where necrotic and shadow magic—"
Mike interrupted, eager for specifics. "Exactly. If a place like the Vale of Shadows existed, how would we get there?"
Seeing Mr. Clarke’s surprised reaction to the specific question, Gracie added, "Theoretically, of course."
Mr. Clarke went silent for a moment, deep in thought. He grabbed a paper plate and a pen, beginning to sketch. "Well... picture an acrobat standing on a tightrope. The tightrope represents our dimension, and our dimension has its own rules."
Gracie and the boys leaned in closely, watching as Mr. Clarke drew arrows above the tightrope. "You can move forwards or backwards. But what if... right next to our acrobat, there’s a flea?" Drawing a small dot, he continued, "The flea can also travel back and forth, just like the acrobat. What’s fascinating is that the flea can also move sideways... even underneath the rope."
"Upside down," the boys and Gracie said in unison, their voices filled with a mix of excitement and realization. The concept was clicking into place for them.
"Exactly," Mr. Clarke nodded.
"But we’re not the flea; we’re the acrobat," Mike pointed out. Mr. Clarke nodded again.
"In this metaphor, yes, we’re the acrobat," Mr. Clarke confirmed.
"So we can’t go upside down?" Lucas asked, his tone a mix of hope and frustration, trying to see if there was a way to reach Will.
"No," Mr. Clarke said, causing Gracie’s heart to sink a little.
"Well, is there any way for the acrobat to reach the Upside Down?" Mike pressed, all of them still hopeful that there might be a way to find Will.
Mr. Clarke paused for another beat, considering her question. "Well... you’d have to create a massive amount of energy—more than humans are currently capable of—to open a tear in time and space. And then..." He trailed off, folding the paper plate in half before jamming a pen through it, creating a small puncture. "You’d create a doorway."
"Like a gate?" Dustin asked, sitting up straighter in his chair.
"Sure, like a gate," Mr. Clarke shrugged. "But again, this is all—"
"Theoretical," the four of them finished in unison, their voices tinged with resignation.
"But... what if this gate already existed?" Gracie asked, her mind racing. It was the only explanation she could think of for how Will and Barb had ended up there.
Mr. Clarke chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, if it did, I think we’d know. It would disrupt gravity, the magnetic field, our environment. Heck, it might even swallow us up whole. Science is neat, but it’s not very forgiving."
------
As the party members had all arrived with their families, they soon went their separate ways after their conversation with Mr. Clarke. However, they all promised to regroup at Mike's house, which was exactly where Gracie was heading right now.
She jumped off her bike and walked through the back gate of Mike's house, her eyes catching a familiar car parked on the nearby street. It seemed out of place, but before she could dwell on it, the car's owner emerged from the garage, making Gracie’s curiosity turn into recognition. Before she could think about it any longer, her attention shifted from the car to the sound of footsteps coming from the side of the Wheeler residence.
Steve Harrington, looking dejected after Nancy's refusal to go to the movies with him, walked out of the garage and noticed Gracie. Looking at each other, the two gave each other a slightly awkward smile. They weren’t exactly friends, but after sharing a smoke they weren’t exactly as estranged as they used to be either. Gracie did suppose that Steve Harrington wasn’t as bad as she’d thought but his image as “King Steve” refused to leave her mind either, it was deeply confusing. As they met awkwardly halfway, she offered him a sheepish smile and a quiet "Hi."
"Hey," Steve replied, his tone a mix of uncertainty and casualness. "Uh, Nancy's in the garage if you're looking for her."
"Oh, thanks, but I’m actually here for Mike," she replied, hoping to keep the interaction brief. Steve nodded, his eyes reflecting a hint of curiosity.
"Oh right, you're their babysitter."
"Yeah... that's me," Gracie said, trailing off as an uncomfortable silence settled between them. She then recalled Steve’s comment about Nancy and asked in surprise, "What’s she doing in the garage?"
"She’s swinging a bat," Steve explained, his doubtfulness about Nancy's sudden athletic interest also evident. He shrugged, adding, "She says she’s thinking about trying out for softball or something."
Gracie hummed, recognizing that Nancy was lying. There was no way Nancy would ever consider trying out for any sport, let alone softball. Gracie knew exactly why Nancy was swinging a bat, and it made her frown with concern. Having zero intention of revealing Nancy’s true plans in front of Steve, she just nodded. "Okay, well, uh, I should get going now," she said, trying to end the conversation as Steve also seemed eager to escape the awkward exchange, Gracie decided to make a little detour to the garage before going to see the party in the basement.
With the garage door open, she saw exactly what Steve had described—Nancy swinging into nothing but air. Hearing more footsteps, Nancy looked up, surprised to see Gracie.
"Gracie!" Nancy said, her voice a mix of surprise and nervousness. "I thought you’d be with the boys all day."
"I was just about to meet them now," Gracie replied, still eyeing her best friend suspiciously. "But then I had a little talk with Harrington, who says you’re into softball?"
Knowing there was no use lying to her friend, Nancy sighed, "Gracie, look—"
"I can't believe this!" Gracie interrupted, not wanting to hear her friend's excuses. "I can't believe you—or Jonathan! I mean, you can't seriously think you guys can find this thing, let alone kill it!"
"We have to try!" Nancy yelled back. "I can't just sit still while this—this thing is out there!"
"Nancy, no this is stupid and reckless and-"
"You know what, you may be Mike's babysitter, but you're not mine." Nancy cut her off harshly. "I'm going, and you can't stop me."
Shocked at her friend's response, Gracie could see Nancy was heavily breathing, almost shaking.
"Nancy—" Gracie softened, reaching an arm out to her distraught friend.
But Nancy shoved it aside, shaking her head. "This is my fault she's gone. I was the one who left her alone. I’m doing this, Gracie. I have to."
She heard the tremble in her voice and the determination in her eyes. Gracie still thought that this was a terrible idea but she also knew that Nancy was right. She wasn't her babysitter and didn't have the right to be anything but her friend. Gracie stayed silent before heavily slowly nodding her head. "Okay. But I'm going with you."
Nancy shook her head firmly. "No, Gracie. You need to be with the boys."
"But—"
"But nothing," Nancy insisted, refusing to drag another friend into this. "I’ve got Jonathan. He’s going to help me with this."
Gracie sighed, her worry not fully eased but knowing Nancy was right. She couldn't leave the boys right now, not when they were this close to finding Will themselves. "Alright, if you’re sure. Just... be careful."
Nancy nodded, her grip on the bat tightening. "I will. I promise."
"And if you aren't home by ten, I'm going out to find you," Gracie warned. "So just—just don't do anything stupid."
"I could say the same to you," Nancy laughed softly. "I don't know what you and my brother have been up to, but don't think I didn’t notice how weird you’ve all been acting."
Giving her a sheepish smile, Gracie sighed. "I promise I'll tell you. To be honest, we're still figuring it all out."
Nodding, Nancy trusted her friend enough to accept that answer. "I've gotta meet Jonathan now. We need to go before it gets dark."
Gracie moved forward to give her friend one last tight hug. "Be safe. And tell Jonathan that if either of you aren't home by ten, I'll kill you both myself."
Laughing, Nancy shook her head at her friend's protective humor. "I’ll be sure to send the message."
With a final wave, Nancy walked out of the garage, leaving Gracie standing there for a moment, her heart heavy with concern. But she knew she had her own mission with the boys. Taking a deep breath, she turned and headed towards the basement, having already made the boys wait too long.
As Gracie made her way down to the basement, the moment she opened the door, four heads turned her way, all calling her name in unison, "Gracie!"
Before she could fully process what was happening, Dustin sprinted up the stairs, grabbed her hand, and quickly dragged her down to the rest of the group. Gracie, a bit bewildered, gave El—who was sitting quietly on the couch—a quick wave before turning back to Dustin with a glare. "Was that really necessary? I was coming down."
"Like a snail," Dustin retorted, his tone urgent. But before Gracie could respond, he waved his hand dismissively. "Whatever, it doesn’t matter. Just give me your compass."
"What—"
"Gracie! Your compass!" Dustin cut her off, holding out his hand with an air of urgency.
Eying him skeptically, Gracie decided to humor him. She reached into her backpack, rummaging around the bottom of it while Dustin rolled his eyes impatiently. "Losing light years here," he muttered.
Gracie shot him a quick glare before finally grasping her compass and handing it over. Dustin examined it for a moment, his grin widening even more. "This one's facing north too!" he exclaimed, as if he had just uncovered a major secret.
Gracie turned to Dustin and Lucas, her confusion evident. "Do either of you get what he's saying?" Dustin had clearly been mid-revelation when Gracie had come downstairs, leaving her, Mike, and Lucas to play catch-up.
Holding up a handful of compasses for his friends to see, Dustin repeated, "Look, they're all facing north!"
Gracie glanced down at her compass, then back up at Dustin's expectant face, still lost. "What about it?" Lucas asked, echoing the confusion of everyone in the room.
"Well, that's not true north," Dustin explained, but the statement didn’t seem to clear anything up.
"What do you mean?" Mike asked, still struggling to grasp what Dustin was getting at.
"I mean exactly what I just said. That's not true north," Dustin repeated, exasperated by the blank stares of his friends.
"Are you all seriously this dense?" Dustin asked, clearly frustrated. "The sun rises in the east, and it sets in the west. Right? Which means that’s true north."
"So what you're saying is the compasses are broken," Lucas concluded, though it was clear he and Mike were still piecing it all together.
Dustin sighed in frustration, looking at Lucas with aggravation. "Do you even understand how a compass works? Do you see a battery pack in this? No, you don’t, because it doesn’t need one. The needle’s naturally drawn to the Earth's magnetic North Pole."
"So what’s wrong with them?" Mike asked, his face scrunching in concentration as he tried to piece together Dustin’s revelation. Gracie's eyes widened as she finally understood the significance of what Dustin was saying.
"You can change the direction of a compass with a magnet. If there’s the presence of a more powerful magnetic field, the needle deflects to that power," Gracie explained, recalling what she had learned in middle school. "And if Mr. Clarke was right, then the gate would need to have so much power that—"
"It could disrupt the electromagnetic field," Mike finished, he and Lucas finally catching up.
Nodding his head, Dustin smiled proudly. "Exactly. Meaning, if we follow the compasses’ north..."
"It should lead us to the gate," Mike finished, his voice filled with awe as the realization hit him and the others. This revelation brought them one step closer to finding Will, and the gravity of the situation began to settle over them.
"Alright, then," Gracie said, standing a little taller as she felt the weight of the moment. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for what was to come. "Let's do this."
Dustin, Mike, and Lucas exchanged determined looks before nodding in unison. There was no more time to waste. Gracie slipped her compass back into her pocket, feeling its weight as a tangible reminder of the task ahead. Together, they were going to find the gate. While they probably weren't going to bring Will home immediately, they finally had a solid lead—something real to follow. Gracie knew that this was different from Nancy and Jonathan going out into the woods alone. It was different because, unlike them, the party had Eleven.
Gracie glanced back at Eleven, noticing the girl silently watching them with a look Gracie couldn’t quite decipher. Concerned, she walked over and sat beside her on the couch. "Hey, are you okay?" she asked gently.
Eleven looked up at her and slowly nodded, but Gracie could tell something was still bothering her. Pulling her closer, Gracie reassured her, "Don't worry, okay? It's all going to be fine."
For a moment, Eleven was quiet, her eyes searching Gracie's face. Then, in a soft voice, she finally spoke, "I—I will protect you."
Gracie smiled softly, a bit confused by the intensity of Eleven’s words, but touched nonetheless. She nodded and replied, "I'll protect you too. I promise."
Though Gracie didn’t fully grasp the depths of what Eleven meant, she felt a connection—a shared understanding that they would look out for each other, no matter what they were about to face.
------
Gracie didn't know how far they had walked. At some point, she had lost all sense of time, her tired legs moving one step at a time. The woods around them seemed to stretch endlessly, the abandoned railroad tracks their only guide. Gracie, Lucas, and Dustin walked a bit ahead, their footsteps crunching on the gravel, while Mike and Eleven trailed behind. The late afternoon light filtered through the trees, casting long shadows that danced across the tracks.
Gracie could feel the weight of exhaustion settling into her bones, each step becoming a little heavier. She wasn’t the only one feeling the strain; Lucas, clearly growing weary, started to grumble, his voice tinged with frustration. "How much further?" he asked, wiping the sweat from his brow and glancing anxiously at the horizon, where the sun was beginning its descent.
"I don’t know. These only tell direction, not distance," Dustin replied, his voice carrying a hint of irritation. He was fiddling with his compass, the needle quivering slightly as if uncertain of its own bearings. "You really need to learn more about compasses."
Gracie could sense the tension rising between them, a petty squabble brewing just beneath the surface. "Can you shitheads shut up, please?" she snapped, not in the mood for their bickering. Her voice carried a sharp edge, reflecting the fatigue and stress that had been building up inside her.
"I’m just saying," Dustin muttered, shrugging his shoulders, but the annoyance was clear in his tone. He stuffed the compass into his pocket with a little more force than necessary, clearly irked by Lucas's complaint.
"How do we know when we get to the gate?" Lucas asked, glancing down at his compass again. His face was scrunched up in concentration, trying to make sense of the seemingly endless walk. Gracie looked at her own compass, her brow furrowing as she watched the needle. She swore it twitched to the right, just for a second, before snapping back to "north," as if it had been momentarily confused.
"Uh, I think a portal to another dimension is gonna be pretty obvious," Dustin replied, his sarcasm barely masking the unease that was creeping into his voice. The idea of actually finding the gate was starting to feel more real—and more terrifying.
Sighing, Lucas cast a quick glance back at Eleven, who was trudging along behind them, her face pale and her movements sluggish. "Do you think she’s acting weird?" he asked, his voice lower now, tinged with suspicion. He was clearly uneasy, and his gaze lingered on Eleven, who seemed more distant than usual.
"You’re asking if the weirdo is acting weird?" Dustin snarked, not realizing how harsh his words sounded. Gracie, sensing the tension escalating, didn't hesitate to smack him on the back of the head.
"Don't call her that," she said, her tone firm. There was an undercurrent of protectiveness in her voice, one that surprised even her. Eleven was different, sure, but she didn’t deserve to be ostracized, especially not by the group that was supposed to be looking out for her.
"You call us shitheads," Dustin defended, rubbing the spot where Gracie had hit him, his expression a mix of confusion and mild offense.
"Because it's well deserved," she shot back, giving him a pointed look. Dustin’s mouth opened in a retort, but he thought better of it, mumbling under his breath instead. Gracie glanced at Eleven, noticing how the girl wiped her nose discreetly with the back of her hand. A faint smear of blood caught her eye, but she didn’t think much of it, figuring it was a side effect of whatever powers Eleven had. She turned her attention back to the path ahead, her mind too preoccupied with the task at hand to dwell on it.
"I mean, weirder than normal," Lucas corrected, his voice quieter now, as if he didn’t want Eleven to hear. His gaze flickered between Gracie and Dustin, searching for validation. Dustin just shrugged, clearly unbothered.
"I don’t know. Who cares?" Dustin said, dismissing the concern with a wave of his hand. The topic dropped, and the group fell into a comfortable, if weary, silence. Gracie's thoughts wandered as they walked, the rhythmic crunch of gravel underfoot lulling her into a sort of trance. The railway seemed endlessly long, stretching out before them like a path that led to nowhere.
The late afternoon sun began to dip lower, casting an orange glow across the landscape. The trees around them were bathed in warm hues, but the deepening shadows seemed to make the forest feel more ominous. Soon, they reached a clearing in the forest and found themselves at the junkyard. The sight of it brought an odd mix of relief and confusion—relief because they had reached a landmark, and confusion because it was a landmark they had already passed.
"What is it?" Mike asked, the rest of the party coming to a halt. He sounded more exasperated than concerned, clearly tired of all the surprises this day had thrown at them.
"We’re headed back home," Dustin sighed, shaking his head in frustration. His shoulders slumped as he looked at the junkyard with a sense of defeat.
"What? Are you sure?" Lucas asked, his eyes wide with disbelief. He looked around, trying to make sense of how they could have ended up back where they started.
Gracie wasn’t sure how it was possible either, but after a quick inspection of their surroundings, she knew Dustin was right. "Damn it, he's right. The sun's setting over there," she said, pointing to the west where the sky was beginning to turn shades of pink and purple. "Which means we looped right back around."
Turning to Dustin, Mike asked, annoyed, "And you’re just realizing this now?" His voice had an edge to it, the stress of the day clearly getting to him.
"Why is this all on me?" Dustin protested, throwing his hands up in exasperation. His cheeks flushed with frustration, feeling unfairly blamed for something that didn’t make sense to any of them.
"Because you’re the compass genius!" Mike shot back, his tone sharp. The tension between them was growing palpable, like a storm ready to break.
"Hey, lay off Dustin," Gracie intervened, stepping between the boys before the argument could escalate. "It’s not his fault the compasses are whack. What do yours say?" she asked, turning to Lucas and Mike. The last thing they needed was to start turning on each other when they were already lost and exhausted.
Both boys sighed in unison, looking down at their compasses. "North," they both muttered, their voices heavy with confusion. The needles on their compasses pointed resolutely north, just as Dustin's had, but the direction made no sense in the context of where they were.
"Makes no damn sense," Lucas muttered, his brows knitting together in frustration. He cast a suspicious glance back at Eleven, who had been silent through the whole exchange, her expression unreadable.
"Maybe the gate moved," Mike suggested, though Gracie and Dustin exchanged doubtful looks. The idea seemed far-fetched, but with everything they had encountered so far, they weren’t ready to dismiss any possibility outright.
Lucas, however, shook his head, his suspicion only deepening. "No, I don’t think it’s the gate," he said, his voice low and tense. His eyes narrowed at Eleven, who stood a bit behind them all, her face pale and drawn, a guilty expression flickering in her eyes. "I think it’s something else screwing with the compasses."
"Maybe it’s something here," Dustin suggested, glancing around the junkyard as if expecting to see some huge magnet or other device that could explain the bizarre compass readings.
But Gracie shook her head, her mind racing through the possibilities. "No, it would have to be a super magnet," she said, her tone skeptical. The kind of magnetic interference that could throw off all their compasses would have to be massive, and there was nothing around them that fit the bill.
"It’s not a magnet," Lucas insisted, his gaze now locked onto Eleven with a cold intensity. His voice was tight, almost accusatory. "She’s been acting weirder than normal. If she can slam doors with her mind, she can definitely screw up a compass."
"Why would she do that?" Mike asked, quick to defend Eleven. His voice was strained, though, as if even he wasn’t entirely sure of the answer.
"Mike's right," Gracie agreed, stepping in to back him up. "Let's not toss blame around." Her voice was firm but calm, trying to keep the situation from spiraling out of control. But she could feel the tension mounting, the distrust beginning to creep into the group.
But Lucas ignored them both, his suspicion boiling over into anger. "Because she’s trying to sabotage our mission. Because she’s a traitor!" His words hung in the air like a challenge, and for a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath.
"Lucas, what are you doing?" Mike asked, his voice tinged with a mix of shock and fear. He took a step forward, but it was too late. Lucas had already stormed up to Eleven, his anger palpable, his eyes hard and unyielding.
"You did it, didn’t you?" Lucas accused, his voice cold and sharp. He stood inches from Eleven, his fists clenched at his sides. "You don’t want us to reach the gate. You don’t want us to find Will."
"Lucas, leave her alone." Mike said, quickly following the boy along with Gracie and Dustin.
But Lucas didn't relent continuing on, "Admit it. Admit it!" As El shook her head, the boy took matter into his own hands grabbing Eleven's wrist, "Fresh blood. I knew it."
Looking down at the evidence, Gracie widened her eyes knowing that Lucas had been right. But seeing the scared look on Eleven's face, Gracie gently pushed Lucas back demanding, "Lucas stop it."
"I saw her wiping her nose on the tracks!" Lucas exclaimed, his frustration evident. "She was using her powers!"
"That’s old blood," Mike protested, his voice a mix of denial and concern. He turned to Eleven for confirmation. "Right, El?"
Eleven's silence and tears spoke volumes, and Gracie's urge to comfort her grew stronger. She wanted to understand why Eleven might be holding back, but she could see the girl's genuine fear.
"It’s... not... it’s not safe," Eleven whispered, her voice barely audible. Gracie's heart softened at her words, feeling a pang of sympathy.
But Lucas was relentless, his anger turning towards a harsh judgment of Eleven. "She’s been playing us from the beginning!" he yelled. "She helped just enough to get what she wants—food and a bed. She’s like a stray dog!"
"Lucas, that isn’t fair," Gracie argued, her voice steady but firm. "Eleven helped us find Will."
"Find Will?" Lucas shot back, incredulous. "Where is he then? Huh? I don’t see him. Yeah, you know what I mean."
"No, I actually don’t," Mike said, crossing his arms in frustration.
Lucas scoffed and moved closer to Mike. "Just think about it, Mike. She could’ve told us where the Upside Down was right away, but she didn’t. She made us run around like headless chickens."
"Alright, everyone calm down!" Dustin interjected, trying to defuse the escalating situation. It seemed he and Gracie were the only ones able to maintain some level of reason.
"No!" Lucas refused to back down. "She used us, all of us! She helped just enough to get what she wants. She’s like a stray dog."
"Lucas—" Gracie began, her tone warning him that he was crossing a line. She understood he was angry, but Eleven didn’t deserve such harsh treatment.
"- Screw you, Lucas!" Mike yelled, his anger matching Lucas’s. "You’re blind... blind because you like that a girl’s not grossed out by you. But wake up, man! Wake the hell up! She knows where Will is, and now she’s just letting him die in the Upside Down. For all we know, it’s her fault."
"Shut up!" Mike shouted, trying to end the argument.
Lucas continued to rant. "We’re looking for some stupid monster... but did you ever stop to think that maybe she’s the monster?"
That was the tipping point for Mike. Without hesitation, he tackled Lucas to the ground, shouting, "I said shut up!"
"Boys, stop it!" Gracie yelled, desperately trying to break up the fight. But her efforts were futile as Lucas pinned Mike down. Gracie struggled to pull Lucas off, the chaos around her overwhelming.
In the midst of the commotion, Dustin yelled, "Knock it off, you idiots!" while Eleven pleaded for them to stop. Gracie’s focus remained on separating Lucas and Mike, unaware of the impending danger.
Just as she managed to pull Lucas off Mike, a piercing scream cut through the air. An invisible force sent Gracie hurtling through the air. She crashed to the ground with a tremendous impact, her head slamming against something hard. The force of the blow sent her world spiraling into darkness.
"Gracie!" Lucas’s shout pierced the chaos, and both he and Mike forgot their fight as they rushed to her side.
"Holy shit!" Dustin exclaimed, hurrying over as well.
"Gracie, are you alright?" Mike asked urgently, shaking her limp form, but her eyes remained closed. The boys hovered over her, their panic evident as they desperately tried to revive her.
"Gracie, come on!" Dustin urged.
"Wake up! Gracie!" Lucas pleaded, his voice filled with desperation.
Mike turned to Eleven, who stood horrified at what had transpired. "Why would you do that? What’s wrong with you? What is wrong with you?"
Ignoring her response, Mike turned back to Gracie, still trying to wake her. "Come on, wake up. Come on!"
The boys’ calls gradually became clearer as Gracie’s senses slowly returned. She blinked her eyes open, trying to make sense of her surroundings.
As Gracie began to sit up, Mike, Lucas, and Dustin sighed with relief. Mike's voice was laced with concern. "Gracie, you okay?"
Before she could answer, Dustin shoved three fingers in her face. "Gracie, how many fingers am I holding up?"
"Gracie, how many fingers?" Dustin asked again, his worry evident.
Still groggy from the impact, Gracie looked at Dustin and said, "Dustin, if you don’t get your fingers out of my face, I’ll break them."
Dustin's jaw dropped in surprise, and Lucas and Mike chuckled, relieved to see her response. "Yeah, she’ll be fine," Lucas said, his voice still carrying traces of concern.
"Let me see your head," Mike said, helping Gracie sit up straight.
Gracie glanced around the junkyard and muttered, "Oh shit."
Lucas, concerned for her well-being, asked, "What? Is it your head?"
"No, not that," Gracie said, scanning the area. "It's Eleven. She’s gone."
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