after november of last year, jonathan was convinced nothing was ever going to feel normal again. he'd been a zombie those first few months. hardly sleeping, hardly hardly eating, hardly alive. routine, that's what the school counselor so deftly said jonathan needed, so that's what he got. he slipped into it like a dream: in the morning he would take will to school, then go himself. in the afternoon, a few hours of work or his homework or helping will with his homework. in the evening, just as the sun began to set and the world turned golden, he would head out into the woods between their houses and patrol with steve. it's the only part of his day where he doesn't have to pretend nothing is wrong, because there is something direly wrong, if they have to keep an eye out for monsters in the woods behind their childhood homes. it was awkward and grueling, at first, but jonathan thinks he and steve have fallen into an easy sort of step with each other.
christ, steve can be such an asshole. jonathan's stunned by how quick it came out. one moment it was relatively calm, the next, steve is talking to him like he is the last draft in dodgeball. somehow, jonathan had forgotten the magnitude of steve's entitlement. how he had he allowed himself to forget he was talking to king steve harrington?
@harringtontm & jonathan: i'm sorry. i'm tired, i didn't sleep well last night.
oh. that's how. he isn't talking to king steve. not anymore.
jonathan has plenty of experience watching lonnie come crawling home to joyce, telling her in that no-nonsense tone that this time, they'll be different. he knows the false platitudes. he knows how easy it is to fall back into old rhythms and never look back at who you promised yourself you would become. steve isn't doing that. steve's actually trying to change. the thought makes something go tight in jonathan's chest. "fine." he says, begrudging, more out of a want to end the antagonism than it actually being fine.
summer is coming soon and nowhere is the change in weather more apparent than out in their shared woods, where everything from the trees to the forest floor is green. jonathan resumes walking, eyes glued to his shoes and the mud-slick grass they're trampling over. there's a hint of a path worn into the ground from the path they take every twilight, a surreal detail that makes jonathan feel like he was actually present someplace, for once in his life. he tucks his hands into his front pockets. he's not very good at the friend thing. hasn't had much practice. but if steve can try to do better, so can jonathan. "why couldn't you-" jon trails off. he's had his fair share of nightmares, things that keep him up at night. it's not a polite question. still, he wants to know. he clears his throat, starts again. "why couldn't you sleep?"
