Say I Never Mattered Chapter 7*:ｼďžâ§
Steve Harrington x Y/N Henderson (Slowburn)
Warnings: mention of domestic abuse, mention of alcohol addiction, angst, swearing
Chapter 1 Â / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 /
Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 / Chapter 8
A/N: Hi, Iâm back⌠I hope. Again I have to start this off by apologizing. I kind of had a writerâs block and thatâs why I havenât posted in so long. I had this story all planned out but I just wasnât satisfied with the end. I rewrote this chapter probably five times and finally decided to make this a filler part so Iâd have some more time to think about how I want this to turn out. Hope youâre still here with me. Thank you again for all your kind messages and for 400+ followers! It means a lot!
Tell me what you think about the story so far, Iâd really appreciate it. :)
Also, my requests are still open, so if you feel like requesting a plot etc, go ahead!
+ this story has a tag list, so let me know if you want to be tagged in the next part.
Disclaimer: Sorry in advance for any grammatical or spelling errors I made, English is not my native language.Â
His former white Nike Cortez were painted red.
Bloody footsteps were left everywhere as he was pacing up and down the empty hallway.
His hands were shaking, thoughts running wild. He felt numb but then again, his heart wasnât. It was acing. Acing. Acing.
He couldnât feel the rest of his body. His world was spinning.
No one had answered his calls. Not Joyce, not Hopper, not his parents, not even the Wheelers. He gave up after the fifth time, leaving Dustin to try to get ahold of someone. It was like they all had disappeared like they were swallowed whole. No one was there. Everyone gone.
There was only white noise in his head. Everything else was drawn out, silent.
He finally stopped pacing and slid down the cold wall until he was sitting on the floor, burying his head in his bloody palms. His knuckles were open and bruised. He pushed his hands through his messy hair revealing a huge cut on his forehead. Steve pressed his eyes shut, the images of this morning never leaving his mind. The blood, all that blood.
You on the floor. A knife. Fists flying towards him. Dustin with that baseball batâŚ
Steve got up. The name had made him snap out of it. The kid had witnessed everything. You were⌠YOU ARE, You areâŚ. his sister, his family and he had to see his father beat you to shit. Steve had to pull himself together. The boy needed him and thatâs what Y/N would have done. You wouldnât have let your emotions get to you when your brother was in pain as well. He had to be there for him. Steve stood, knees weak. He walked around the corner to find Dustin manically trying to explain to a woman in a suit and the nurse, Steve had yelled at earlier for trying to convince him to let a doctor take a look at him, what had happened. Steve joined them wrapping a comforting arm around the sobbing boyâs shoulders. Dustin turned and hugged Steve tightly, burying his face in his hoodie. He immediately felt the warm tears soak the fabric. Steve started to rub across Dustinâs back in an attempt to comfort him and finally looked up, giving the two woman, who were now flashing pity filled smiles at him a questioning look.
âHello, Iâm Amelia Morgan. Social services. You must be Steve?â, the woman asked after introducing herself, voice soft and warm.
Dustin let out a few louder sobs.
âShh, sheâs going to be okay. I promise. Everything is going to be okay.â, he whispered into the boyâs curly hair before answering the woman,
âYes⌠I am.â He turned to face the nurse who was still standing next to the social worker, âIâm sorry for yelling at you earlier. I know you are just doing your job. All of this⌠is just⌠too much and I- I couldnât reach anyone we know, so I just sort of lost it for a second.â, he stammered.
The nurse gave him a reassuring smile, telling him, that she understood and that he had nothing to worry about.
âIs it okay, if I ask you a few questions?â, Mrs. Morgan asked the cadaverous-looking, in blood-covered teen.
Steve simply nodded, more focused on holding the crying Dustin.
So just to be sure⌠Your name is Steve Harrington, youâre 18 years old and you are a student at Hawkins High.â, she said to ascertain if the information she had been trying to make out between the boyâs sobs had been correct. After Steve nodded once again, she scribbled something in the notebook she was holding and asked, âWhat is your relationship with Y/N Henderson? I know itâs personal, but it would help me to start sorting this mess out.â
Steve was caught off guard by how objective the woman was although Dustin was crying and by that question.
âI donât know, Steve. I just know that whatever it is, it feels right. And we have a lot of time to figure out everything else.â
Tears started to build up in Steveâs eyes again, replaying the conversation you had had just yesterday in his head. He began to doubt that youâd ever get the chance to figure it out.
He cleared his voice before he tried to answer with the only thing that was clear to him. âIâm-â
âHeâs her best friend, her boyfriend⌠our family.â, Dustin interrupted, defining what Steve still saw as unclear, âTheyâve been in love since the day they met. Just too stupid to act on it.â, he finished loosening his grip on Steveâs body and looking up at him. It seemed like the boy had finally run out of tears. His eyes and face were still wet and red but there were no new tears emerging. Now Steve was the one letting out a sob and covering his mouth with the hand that wasnât gripping onto Dustin anymore. Dustin felt horrible seeing him like this. He turned to face Mrs. Morgan and asked her if it was okay with her if he would grab something to eat while Steve answered her questions since he hadnât had breakfast yet, which was an excuse. He just didnât want to relive the whole thing yet and he wanted Steve to be honest with the social- lady without having to worry about hurting him too. She agreed and sent him to the cafeteria with the nurse, telling him that he could buy whatever he wanted and that she would pay for it. After they were down the hallway, the door closing behind the two, Mrs. Morgan asked Steve to follow her into a quieter seating area.
After Steve had calmed down a little, a few seconds of silence and him nervously fiddling with the zipper on his hoodie had followed until Mrs. Morgan decided to speak up again, âSo, can you tell me about what happened earlier?â Steve took a deep breath and balled his hands into fists. He felt like punching something.
âI stayed over at her place last night. Yesterday, after we visited her father at the hospital she finally told me about him. That he was a drunk and⌠that he let his anger out on her. He blames her for his wife leaving them, which is bullshit.â, Steve exclaimed getting angrier per second. All of the sudden the word bullshit didnât hurt him anymore.
âHow did he let his anger out on her?â, Mrs. Morgan asked concerned, quickly scribbling the information down on paper.
âHe⌠hurt her. Hell, he almost killed her the night her mother left. And he never stopped doing it after that incident. I- I never⌠noticed.â, Steve confessed, so much hurt in his voice.
I was so fucking blind. I could have done something, years ago⌠but I didnât because I was too stupid to see it.â, he added, his head spinning again. He was angry at himself for not doing something earlier. For not noticing. For being so self-centered. For bringing her back to that house.
âDonât blame yourself. It is normal, that especially people who are the closest to an abuse victim donât notice. And itâs not their fault. Most victims are very good at hiding it. You did everything you could have done and that is more than enough.â, she gave him a warm smile, clearly trying to make him feel better.
But Steve didnât feel any better. He felt guilty.
âCan you continue?â, she added when Steve didnât give her a reaction. It was important to gather et all the information she could since she needed to get Dustin and you away from your father into a safe environment.
He nodded, staring at the floor, his gaze empty, âI woke up to a phone call from Dustin this morning, he had stayed over at a friends house and the tire on his bike was flat, so he asked me to pick him up. Y/N stayed behind to get ready for school since we were already late.
When we came back to the house, the front door was open and I just knew that something was wrongâŚ
Andrew Henderson was on top of her.
Beating⌠and beating⌠and beating her. He was screaming.
and I grabbed him. He didnât stop. Why didnât he stop?
everything is kind of a blur after that.
I remember that he was attacking me insteadâŚ
And then him on top of her again. Stabbing.
And Dustin. That baseball bat. He hit him over the head because he would not stop. And after that, he was out.
I ran over to Y/N and tried to stop the bleeding but I couldnât.
I never paid attention in Health class.
âSteve ItâsâŚâ, Mrs. Morgan tried to interfere, but was interrupted,
âI couldnât help her.
Dustin ran to the phone and tried calling an ambulance, but the line was dead.
So I rushed her out to my car and drove over hereâŚ..
I called the police later.â, he finished.
âGod..â, he murmured breaking down. His body was shaking and the aching got worse. He pinched his arm to make him feel that he was still here and that there was something he could still control.
The social worker touched his arm and tried to tell him something, but all he was able to hear was this white noise once again, his sight blurry.
The blue Camaro flew down the streets of the usually quiet Hawkins.
Billy Hargrove was smoking a cigarette while bobbing his head around and drumming the rhythm of ACDCâs  âYou Shook Me All Night Longâ, that was blasting out his radio, on the steering wheel. He felt unstoppable and reinforced in his actions. Neither you or Harrington had shown up to school today which he thought was a good sign. But he wanted to make sure and see for himself, so he decided to take the long route home to drive by your house. He passed by RadioShack and Melvaldâs General Store where Joyce Byers was rushing to her car. She looked distressed. He wondered if it had something to do with Max disappearing from school today, but he wasnât going to get himself wrapped up in this mess all over again, so he brushed it off. It was only a few more crossroads till he was at your house and he was stoked about it. He drove even faster and smiled to himself in the rearview mirror, his wild locks flying in the wind, his silver earring reflecting the sun and almost dropping his cigarette so focused on his looks. But when he turned onto Jackson road his smile dropped quickly and he slammed on the breaks. Upfront of your house was a line of police cars and a few neighbours had gathered around as well. Fear spread throughout Billyâs veins and he couldnât help but stare at your front door. A few of the neighbours and Officer Calvin Powell had noticed his weird entrance and when the man saw the look on the troublemakerâs face he immediately decided to head over.
Billy wanted to drive off at first but then changed his mind. He had to find out what was going on. He prayed that it didnât have anything to do with the conversation he had had yesterday. As Powell was approaching him, he shut off the radio and rolled down his window to throw his cigarette out. The officer gave him a depreciating stare but decided not to bother.
âMr. Hargrove. What is my favourite bully doing here?â, Powell said with the usual irony in his voice. Billy and he had met on a few occasions. Always situations that were either caused by Billy or he somehow played a part in.
âWhat happened here? I know the girl who lives in that house.â, Billy told him in a monotone voice, ignoring his question and trying to keep his cool.
Powell sighed, âLook, I canât tell you much because this is an ongoing investigation but sheâs in the hospital. Are you friends with her?â
Billy gulped. His hands felt sweaty all of a sudden and his heart dropped.
âHad her dad something to do with it?â, Billy asked in a shaky voice once again ignoring the question.
A black feeling was starting to settle in the pit of his stomach.
The officer stopped for a second, looking at him suspiciously. Then crossed his arms and asked in a serious tone, âHow do you know that?â
âWild guessâ, he answered quietly and a little bit to fast, bringing his eyes back on the road. Officer Powell was trying to say something else but was interrupted by someone calling out for him. He turned around revealing the front door to Billy again.
Hopper was standing on the porch. He looked beat. When he saw the blue Camaro the chief furrowed his brows and Billy panicked. He turned the engine on and sped off.
âCan I smoke in here?â, Billy had asked the bartender who clearly wasnât happy to see him.
âIt doesnât ever matter to you if I tell you no, so go ahead.â, the muscular guy had told him annoyed.
âThatâs so kind of you Benâ, Billy had smirked sarcastically, pulling the pack of cigarettes out of his jacket.
Ben just rolled his eyes seemingly fed up with that mullet-headed douchebag (thatâs what he always called him behind his back) and turned around continuing work by making drinks for the few other customers.
He took one out and started feeling his pockets for the lighter he had purposefully left behind in his car.
âShitâ, he exclaimed. Which apparently sounded desperate enough to get the attention of the man sitting next to him. Maybe he was a good actor after all.
âYou need a lighter kid?â, he asked.
âYeah, thanksâ, Billy said content when the man handed him his.
The boy lit his cigarette and put the lighter down on the bar next to the scotch glass of its owner. Billy took a deep drag and then stretched his hand out, âIâm Billy Hargrove.â, he introduced himself. The man mirrored his actions and told him, âAndrew Hendersonâ, while shaking his hand. Billy obviously knew that since he had been in two other bars near the hospital already, to find the old drunk. He certainly knew where he would most likely be. And now he had finally found him in the Hideaway which was quite ironic.
âOh, Henderson? I believe I know your daughter. Y/N, right?â, Billy mentioned casually.
âDo you?â, he asked already sounding tense. This seemed to be easier than Billy had expected.
âYes, well⌠I actually know her boyfriend. I only met her twice at a party.â, he answered.
âHer boyfriend?â, the man wanted to know. He was clearly indignant. His daughter never told him about a boyfriend or a party.
âSteve Harrington. If you ask me heâs just a fuckup but she seems happy with him. A little too happy sometimes. They get real handsy in the hallsâ, he chuckled.
Steve Harrington was the name he really didnât want to hear. But then again he didnât want to hear any name. And he started clenching his jar in anger.
Andrew Henderson already seemed infuriated, and Billy decided he had done his deeds and excused himself, saying he had a curfew. And that he didnât want to make his old man angry. As Billy was leaving Henderson ordered a whole bottle of Jack telling Ben, âThat, right there is a good kid. You donât find them often nowadaysâ, and pulled out a wallet, that was overflowing with money and looked like it could belong to a woman. Billy thought it almost looked like he had robbed someone. Like he had someones entire college savings with him. He chuckled, before realizing that something could be very wrong here and asking himself if they maybe were and if he had done the right thing by selling you out for something you hadnât even done to a man that reminded him very much of his own father, but he shook it off and climbed back into the Camaro.
Now, a day after. Speeding away from the scene he just wanted to turn back time and kick his own ass.
What had he done? Fuck, fuck, fuckâŚFUCK.
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