Two weeks before Christmas, Steve discovers Ro has no idea about Christmas. Naturally, he takes it as a personal challenge.
AN: oh my, so sorry for the long hiatus. Will try to start pushing out chapters at least once a week or bi-weekly. Hope you enjoy this chapter. It took me a week to make it!
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The December cold had rolled into Hawkins a few days earlier, settling over the town with sharp winds and cloudy skies that turned everything gray by late afternoon. Most people complained about it, but Steve honestly didnโt mind.
It gave him an excuse to stay home.
A year ago, that probably wouldโve seemed strange. Steve Harrington voluntarily spending weekends inside instead of driving around Hawkins with Tommy and Carol, wasting time at diners or showing up uninvited to parties neither of them actually cares about.
Now, though, nobody really questioned it anymore.
Not that there was anyone left to question it.
Steve glanced toward the living room as he grabbed two plates from the cabinet, the sound of the television carrying faintly through the house. Ro sat curled into her usual corner of the couch, one of his sweatshirts hanging off her shoulders while some sitcom played quietly in the background.
She didnโt seem particularly interested in the sitcom itself, more focused on flipping through one of the magazines Steve had brought her a few days earlier.
But even that didnโt keep her attention for long, not when Steve was moving around the kitchen making lunch, which quickly became far more interesting than the magazine in her lap.
Ro was already beside him by the time Steve realized sheโd moved at all, her eyes lighting up the second she noticed the familiar red strawberries already sliced up on a plate nearby.
Before she could reach for the plate, Steve lightly tapped the back of her hand.
โRo, you know you have to eat other things besides strawberries, right?โ
She frowned slightly at that, her hand pausing midair, looking genuinely unimpressed.
Steve couldnโt help the quiet laugh that slipped out at her expression.
โOkay, how about this,โ Steve said, sliding the turkey and ham sandwich heโd made over toward her. โYou eat all your lunch, and Iโll throw in some whipped cream.โ
Ro stared at the sandwich for a long moment before looking back toward the strawberries sitting beside it, visibly weighing her options.
Steve crossed his arms lightly. โRo.โ
She glanced back at him.
โโฆpromise?โ
He uncrossed his arms before holding his hand out toward her, pinky extended. โI promise.โ
Ro looked down at his hand for a second before carefully hooking her pinky around his.
โโฆno take backs.โ
Steve let out a quiet huff of laughter. โThatโs kinda the whole point of a pinky promise.โ
Ro let her pinky slip from Steveโs before grabbing the plate with the sandwich. But instead of sitting down at the table, she just stood there, eyeing it carefully like something was missing.
Then she looked back up at Steve.
โChips?โ
Steve raised a brow at her. โYou want chips?โ
Ro looked down at the plate in her hands before glancing back up at him.
โThereโs always chips with sandwiches.โ
Steve stared at her for a second before a quiet laugh slipped out of him.
โComing up.โ
He crossed over to the pantry and grabbed two small bags of potato chips from the cabinet. By the time he turned back around, Ro had already moved to sit at the table, waiting patiently for him to join her before touching any of the food.
Steve grabbed his own plate and finally sat down, opening one of the chip bags before pouring some onto Roโs plate first. Only once she had hers did he open the second bag for himself.
It didnโt take long for the conversation to settle between them.
Or, more accurately, for Steve to fill the silence while Ro listened quietly and ate her lunch.
Faintly, Steve could hear the same Christmas special playing from the living room television again, earning a quiet groan from him.
โSeriously?โ Steve muttered around a bite of sandwich. โThis is, like, the fourth time theyโve played this thing in the last two days.โ
Ro glanced up from her lunch.
โYou do not like it?โ
โNo, I like it,โ Steve said quickly. โThatโs the problem.โ
Ro tilted her head slightly, her face twisting with confusion at his explanation.
Steve sighed. โThey keep replaying the same thing over and over till eventually I will hate it,โ he explained. โAnd I really donโt wanna hate it.โ
โWhy are they replaying it?โ Ro asked.
โWellโฆ because itโs Christmas.โ
Ro frowned slightly.
โโฆwhat is Christmas?โ
Steve paused, looking up at Ro and taking in the confused furrow of her brows.
โYouโฆ donโt know what Christmas is?โ
Ro shook her head slowly.
โโฆam I supposed to?โ
Steve sat there for a moment, trying to wrap his head around the fact that Ro genuinely didnโt know what Christmas was.
It shouldnโt have surprised him.
From the little sheโd told him about the lab, Steve already knew there were a lot of things sheโd never gotten to experience. Normal things, like school, friends, and even birthday parties.
Still, somehow it had never occurred to him that Christmas belonged on that list too.
Steve snapped out of his brief moment of bafflement and blinked at her.
โOkayโฆ no, wellโฆโ He stumbled over his words, trying to find a better way to explain himself. The last thing he wanted was to make her feel bad about not knowing.
โItโs not weird,โ he said quickly. โI mean, okay, itโs a little weird. But not because of you.โ
โBecause of me?โ Ro asked, her voice lowering slightly.
โNo!โ Steve said immediately.
He winced at the volume of his own voice before clearing his throat and rubbing a hand down his face before looking back up at her.
โNo,โ he repeated, softer this time. โItโs not your fault you donโt know.โ
Ro slowly lowered her gaze back to her sandwich, giving a small nod before resuming her lunch.
Of course, Steve couldnโt let it go.
He tried. He really did.
But the thought lingered in the back of his mind as he took another bite of his sandwich. The more he thought about it, the more ridiculous it seemed.
Steve frowned down at his plate.
Then something clicked.
The old decorations.
His mom had boxes of them stored away somewhere. A fake tree, lights, ornaments, all packed up and untouched for years.
Steve hadnโt thought about them in forever.
Steve quickly finished off the rest of his sandwich.
The sudden change in pace made Ro look up just as he pushed back from the table, his chair scraping loudly against the floor as he jumped to his feet.
โSteve?โ
โIโll be right back,โ Steve said, already moving. โFinish your food.โ
Before Ro could ask any more questions, he disappeared around the corner and headed straight for the basement door.
Steve descended the basement stairs, flicking on the light as he went.
It didnโt take him long to find the boxes labeled Christmas. If there was one thing his mom was good at, it was organizing.
He stacked a few of the lighter boxes on top of each other and carried them upstairs, setting them down in the middle of the living room before immediately heading back for more.
The last box was a large rectangular one with enough weight to make him readjust his grip halfway up the stairs.
He quickly noticed that Ro was now standing beside the boxes, a plastic container in her hands as she ate the strawberries heโd promised her.
Steve set the large box down and leaned against it, narrowing his eyes at her.
โDid you finish your sandwich?โ
Ro paused mid-bite.
โโฆyes.โ
Steve slowly turned his head toward the kitchen table. The sandwich sat exactly where sheโd left it. The chips, however, were gone.
He looked back at her, a laugh slipping out despite himself.
โYouโre a terrible liar. Fine, you win. But you have to eat all of your dinner.โ Steve pointed at her.
Ro nodded.
A small smile tugged at the corner of Steveโs lips before he crouched beside the boxes and pulled one open, revealing an assortment of decorations packed neatly inside.
He rummaged through the boxes, pulling out strands of pine garland and setting aside a handful of ornaments.
Ro, meanwhile, seemed far more interested in the shiny red and silver balls nestled neatly inside their plastic packaging.
She crouched beside the box, turning it slightly in her hands as the ornaments caught the light.
โUhโฆโ Steve turned an ornament over in his hand. โOkay, so Christmas isโฆ kinda a lot of things.โ
He pointed toward the television.
โPeople put up lights and decorations. Stores play the same songs until everybody gets sick of them. Kids get a break from school.โ
Ro nodded slowly.
โAnd?โ
Steve paused.
โAnd people spend time together, I guess.โ
โWhy?โ
โBecauseโฆโ Steve paused, his thoughts drifting briefly to his parents, who were rarely home, to Tommy and Carol, who werenโt his friends anymore, and to Nancy, whoโd be spending Christmas with her own family.
He turned the ornament over in his hand.
โBecause itโs niceโฆโ he said quietly. โNot being alone.โ
Ro carefully set the container of strawberries on the end table before kneeling beside him.
โThat sounds nice,โ she said.
Steve smiled softly before pulling the large rectangular box closer.
โAnd that,โ he said, prying open the flaps, โis why weโre decorating.โ
Ro blinked.
โWe are?โ
โOf course. This is your first Christmas.โ Steve reached into the box and pulled out a piece of the fake tree. โSo we have to do it right.โ
He turned the branch over in his hands.
โโฆAlthough I have absolutely no idea where this goes.โ
Ro let out a small huff of laughter and reached into the box, pulling out another branch.
For the next few minutes, the two of them sat on the living room floor surrounded by pieces of fake pine, neither of them entirely sure how the tree was supposed to go together.
It took an embarrassingly long amount of time and more than a little fumbling, but eventually the tree stood assembled.
Bare and undecorated, it towered over them from the corner of the living room.
Steve had moved half the furniture around just to make room for it, but now that it was standing, he had to admit it looked pretty good.
At least from a distance.
Ro sat back on her heels, staring up at it.
โThatโs Christmas?โ
Steve smiled.
โThatโs the start of it.โ
The lights were next.
Unfortunately, they were tangled.
Very tangled.
It took another embarrassingly long amount of time to get them straightened out, but eventually they managed.
Once they were untangled, Steve began wrapping them around the tree while Ro followed behind him, carefully helping guide the strand through the branches.
Once the tree had finally been wrapped in lights, Steve stepped back and plugged it into the wall. The colored bulbs flickered to life, red, green, blue and gold light spilling across the living room, reflecting off the windows.ย
Steve glanced over.
Ro was staring up at the tree. Her eyes followed the lights as they blinked softly between the branches, fascination written plainly across her face.
A smile tugged at Steveโs lips.
โPretty cool, right?โ
Ro nodded slowly, not looking away.
โIt's pretty,โ she said quietly.
Steve looked back at the tree. It was missing the ornaments, the lights weren't wrapped evenly, and one section near the bottom was noticeably thinner than the rest.ย
Honestly, it looked a little ridiculous. But looking at the expression on Roโs face, he couldn't bring himself to care.ย
โNow itโs time for the ornaments.โ
Steve opened one of the clear plastic containers, revealing rows of silver and red ornaments nestled inside.
โTheyโre so shinyโฆโ Ro muttered.
Steve smiled.
โHere.โ He picked one up and held it out to her. โYou just loop the string around a branch.โ
She took the ornament carefully, turning it over in her hands. The shiny red surface reflected the living room at her in a warped blur. Carefully, she hooked the string over one of the branches and slowly pulled her hands away, as though moving too quickly might somehow break it.
She beamed when it settled into place and immediately looked up at Steve, as though sheโd just accomplished some extremely complicated feat.
Steve kept handing her ornaments as she worked her way around the tree, occasionally pointing out an empty spot hidden between the branches.
He found himself enjoying the process far more than he expected.
Watching Ro carefully choose where each ornament belonged was somehow more entertaining than decorating the tree itself.
He didnโt care that some sections ended up crowded while others looked a little bare.
As long as she was happy with where she put them, that was good enough for him.
Somewhere along the way, they also wrapped strands of silver tinsel around the tree, weaving it through the branches between the ornaments.
By the time they finished, the living room floor was littered with empty boxes, stray ornament hooks, and bits of fake pine.
The last item left in the box was a sad-looking star.
It had definitely seen better days.
The gold paint had faded in places, one of the points was slightly bent, and there was a crack running along one side that looked like someone had glued it back together years ago.
Steve turned the star over in his hands. He wasnโt entirely sure why his mom had kept it. The thing was practically falling apart. Then again, he had been seven when his parents had let him pick it out.
He could barely remember standing in the store, holding it up, and insisting it was the one they needed.
It felt like a lifetime ago now.
โSteve?โ
He blinked and looked up from the star. Ro was watching him now, her face twisted with concern.
โAre you okay?โ
โHm?โ Steve shook his head slightly. โOh. Yeah, yeah.โ He held up the star. โI think we should get a new one.โ
โWhy?โ
โWellโฆโ He turned it over in his hands. โBecause itโs old.โ
Ro looked at the star, then back at him.
โI like it.โ
Steve opened his mouth, then closed it again. โCome on, you deserve a new one,โ he tried to reason.
Ro shook her head and gently eased the star from his hands. โItโs your star.โ
He blinked. โWhat?โ
Ro turned the decoration over carefully in her hands.
โYou picked it.โ
He stared at her. โHow do you know that?โ
โYou smiled.โ
Steve looked down at the star before huffing out a quiet laugh.
โI think youโve been watching too much TV.โ
Ro pouted.
โCโmon,โ he said, smiling as he went to grab a chair. โLetโs put your star up.โ
When Steve returned a moment later, he stopped in his tracks. The star was already sitting at the top of the tree, slightly crooked.
โโฆHow did you put it up there?โ he asked, staring up at it in astonishment.
Ro turned to look at him. It only took a second for him to put the pieces together. A thin streak of red ran from beneath her nose. He sighed.
โRo.โ He grabbed a tissue from the nearby box and gently wiped away the streak of blood beneath her nose. โYou know youโre not supposed to use your powers when you donโt have to.โ
โBut it was quickerโฆโ Ro argued, lifting a hand to swat him away.
Steve caught her wrist before she could. โAnd then you complain that your head hurts.โ He gave her a deadpan look. โEvery time.โ
โIt doesnโt hurt now.โ
โGive it ten minutes.โ
Ro let out an annoyed huff, and Steve immediately held his hands up in surrender.
โIโm just saying.โ
He tossed the tissue into a nearby trash can before glancing back up at the tree.
Steve comes home to find one of his habits has already been picked up.
THIS IS TIED TO MY MAIN FIC, IT IS NOT A STANDALONE >> here
AN: sorry for the long delay, i quite literally have no excuse lol, I got the good ole Cricut and printer combo so Iโve been crafting. Also I realized that chapter 1, timeline was wrong. Oops. But anyways, I hope you guys like this! I rewrote this like 3 times
Set a week after chapter 5
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By the time he pulled into his driveway, the sky had already gone dark, the porch light flickering on as he stepped out of the car. He grabbed his keys, shut the door with his hip, and headed inside without much thought.
The TV was already on, which wasnโt unusual anymore.
Steve kicked the door shut behind him, keys landing somewhere on the table as he shrugged off his jacket and let it fall where it landed. Shoes came next, kicked off near the couch as he moved further into the house, dragging a hand through his hair.
It had been a long day. Not bad, just long enough to make everything feel a little slower.
He headed straight for the kitchen, opening the fridge without thinking. Milk. Leftovers. Eggs. His hand moved automatically toward the door and stopped.
Steve frowned, shifting a few things around before checking again, slower this time. โโฆno,โ he muttered under his breath.
He leaned back slightly, staring into the fridge like it might be playing some trick on him. It wasnโt. The space was still empty.
โโฆno, I bought it yesterday.โ
He closed the fridge, then opened it again immediately.
Still gone.
Steve stood there for a second, hand still on the handle, doing the math like there was any version of this where the whipped cream had justโฆ disappeared.
Then he heard it.
A soft hiss.
โโฆno way,โ he said under his breath, already turning toward the living room.
The TV flickered against the walls as he stepped into the doorway and paused.
Ro was sunk into the corner of the couch, legs tucked beneath her, one of his sweatshirts hanging loose around her frame. The light from the TV cast uneven shadows across her face, her attention fixed on the screen.
And in her hand was the can.
Steve stared.
She looked over at him the second he stepped in and froze completely, the can hovering halfway to her mouth, her grip tightening just slightly as she went still, like she hadnโt quite decided yet if sheโd been caught or not.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
Then, slowly, very deliberately, Ro lifted the can the rest of the way, tilted it back, and sprayed more whipped cream into her mouth.
Steve blinked, a quiet laugh slipping out of him, soft and disbelieving as he pushed himself off the doorway and into the room. โโฆwow. Okay. Alright. Yeah, no, thatโsโฆ this is happening.โ
Ro lowered the can, watching him carefully now, her expression settling into something more neutral, like she was waiting to see what he was going to do.
Steve dropped onto the couch beside her, the cushions dipping slightly under his weight. โYou stole my whipped cream,โ he said, glancing over.
Ro blinked once, then tilted her head slightly. โโฆyou use it.โ
Steve let out a short breath, somewhere between a laugh and disbelief. โYeah. I do.โ
There was a brief pause before she added, quieter, like she was clarifying something important, โโฆa lot.โ
Steve turned his head to look at her properly. She wasnโt defensive. Wasnโt apologizing. Justโฆ stating a fact.
He huffed out another quiet laugh, shaking his head as he held a hand out. โAlright, alright. Gimme that.โ
Ro handed the can over immediately, no hesitation.
Steve took it, fingers brushing briefly against hers, and tipped it back, spraying some into his mouth before leaning into the couch, one arm resting along the back. He took another quick spray before lowering the can, glancing over at her, only to find her attention had already shifted from the TV to the can in his hand like sheโd been tracking it without meaning to.
He huffed quietly, holding it out again. โAlright. Your turn.โ
She took it immediately.
Steve leaned back, watching as she copied the same motion, tilting it slightly, pressing down, the quiet hiss filling the space for a second before she lowered it again. There was something almost exact about it, like sheโd memorized the movement instead of just trying it.
He watched her for a second longer, then pushed himself up.
โHold on,โ he muttered, already heading toward the kitchen.
Roโs gaze followed him briefly, but she didnโt move from the couch.
Steve opened the fridge again, reaching past the now very obvious empty space where the whipped cream had been and grabbing the container heโd set aside the night before.
Strawberries.
Heโd cut them up without really thinking about it, just something easy, something she liked. Something heโd started keeping around without needing a reason.
He shut the fridge with his hip and headed back into the living room.
Ro was in the same spot, can still in hand.
He held the container out slightly as he approached. โTry it with these.โ
Her eyes dropped to the strawberries immediately, and there was a small, subtle shift in her expression.
โโฆmine?โ she asked, quieter now.
Steve glanced at her, then at the container, like the answer shouldโve been obvious. โYeah. I cut โem last night.โ
Ro looked back at the strawberries, then at the can in her hand. โโฆwith that?โ
Steve gave a small nod. โTrust me.โ
She studied him for a second longer, just enough to show she was thinking about it, before nodding once.
Steve dropped back onto the couch beside her, setting the container between them before taking the can again. He sprayed a small amount onto one of the strawberries and handed it back.
Ro watched closely, then picked it up.
There was a brief hesitation before she took a bite.
Steve didnโt say anything, just waited.
Ro chewed slowly, her expression unreadable at first. Then something shifted, small, but noticeable. She looked down at the strawberry, then back at the container, like she was recalculating something.
โโฆbetter,โ she said.
Steve huffed out a quiet laugh, leaning back into the couch. โYeah, I figured.โ
This time, she didnโt hesitate.
The room settled into a quieter kind of stillness, the TV filling the space as Ro shifted slightly beside him, adjusting her position against the cushion, not away, but closer.
โYouโre late,โ she said.
Steve glanced over at her. She was still looking at the TV.
โDidnโt know I was on a schedule,โ he muttered.
โYou are,โ she said, just as quiet.
He blinked. โโฆam I?โ
She didnโt answer, but she didnโt take it back either, just continued to eat her strawberries.
Steve shook his head slightly, glancing down at the can in his hand before leaning back further into the couch.
It wasnโt just this.
The way she sat, tucked into the corner like she always ended up doing. The way she moved through the house now was as if she belonged there. The way she reached for something that was his without asking, and handed it back like it was obvious.
He glanced over at her again, at the way her attention stayed on the TV like none of this was strange to her.
She wasnโt just following him anymore.
She was picking things up.
Steve leaned back into the couch, a quiet smile pulling at his mouth as he looked back at the TV.
Three days after everything, Steve realizes there are some things he canโt just improvise.
THIS IS TIED TO MY MAIN FIC, IT IS NOT A STANDALONE >> here
Set three days after chapter 4
Masterlist | Next Ch. >>
Steve sat in his car outside the Wheeler house, gripping the steering wheel like it might somehow help him make a better decision.
This was a terrible idea. A really terrible idea.
He leaned his head back against the headrest and stared up at the roof of the car. โThis isnโt weird,โ he muttered to himself. โYouโre helping someone. Thatโs a normal thing to do.โ
The silence stretched for a second before he exhaled.
โโฆGod, this is weird.โ
It had only been three days since everything with the Demogorgon. Three days since Four had shown up at his house looking exhausted and unsure where she was supposed to stand. Three days of her quietly wearing whatever clothes Steve could find that were small enough to almost work.
At first, it hadnโt seemed like a problem. His old t-shirts hung on her like dresses, and the sweatpants only needed the waistband rolled twice to stay up. It worked.
Until Steve had been doing laundry earlier that afternoon and realized something that made his brain short-circuit completely.
She didnโt have anything else.
Which meant he had to go buy clothes. Which meant buying things like socks and shirts and-
Steve squeezed his eyes shut, dragging a hand down his face.
Underwear. And bras.
He sat up again, glancing toward the Wheeler house like it might somehow judge him for even being here. There was absolutely no way he was walking into the womenโs section of a store by himself and figuring that out.
So here he was.
Before he could talk himself out of it, Steve exhaled sharply, pushed the car door open, and stepped out.
The air was cool as he crossed the driveway, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his jacket. Halfway up the walkway he slowed, suddenly aware of how ridiculous this entire situation felt. Nancy Wheeler was the last person he expected to be asking for help with something like this, especially considering they werenโt even dating anymore.
He stopped in front of the door, hesitating long enough for doubt to creep back in.
Maybe he should just leave.
No. Too late now.
Before he could reconsider again, Steve lifted his hand and knocked. The sound echoed a little too loudly in the quiet evening, and he immediately regretted it.
Footsteps approached from inside. A moment later, the door opened, revealing Nancy Wheeler staring at him in surprise.
โSteve?โ
For a second, neither of them said anything. Nancy blinked, clearly trying to figure out why he was standing on her porch looking like heโd just been handed the worst homework assignment of his life.
Steve opened his mouth to answer and immediately realized he had no idea how to start this conversation.
Nancy seemed to pick up on that quickly. She stepped outside and pulled the door closed behind her, giving them a little privacy before folding her arms lightly. โIs everything okay?โ
โYeah,โ Steve said quickly. โYeah, everythingโs fine. I just- I needed to ask you something.โ
Nancy waited.
Steve ran a hand through his hair, already regretting the words that were about to come out of his mouth. โThis is going to sound weird.โ
โItโs not weird weird,โ he rushed to clarify. โNot like- not in a creepy way or anything.โ
That didnโt seem to help.
Nancy studied him for another moment, clearly growing more suspicious the longer he struggled to explain himself. โJust tell me whatโs going on.โ
Steve exhaled slowly. โYou rememberโฆ Four, right?โ He made a slight face when he said it, like it left a bad taste in his mouth.
Nancy nodded after a moment. โOf course.โ
โYeah. Thatโs- yeah.โ Steve shifted his weight awkwardly. โShe doesnโt reallyโฆ have clothes.โ
Nancy tilted her head slightly. โWhat do you mean?โ
โI mean technically she does,โ Steve said quickly, gesturing vaguely with his hands. โBut theyโre mine. Likeโฆall of them.โ
Nancy glanced down at his jacket before looking back up.
โAnd thatโs been fine for the most part,โ Steve continued, the words starting to come faster now. โShirts, sweatpants, whatever. But then I realized earlier that there are other things she probably needs.โ
Nancyโs expression slowly shifted as she pieced it together.
Steve rubbed the back of his neck. โโฆunderwear.โ
Nancy stared at him.
โAnd bras,โ Steve added, already miserable about the conversation.
For a second she just blinked at him before saying slowly, โYou came here because you need help buying a girl underwear.โ
Steve immediately pointed at her. โYes. Exactly that. Thank you.โ
Nancy let out a small breath that was dangerously close to laughter, shaking her head slightly. โI did not expect this conversation today.โ
โNeither did I,โ Steve said.
She studied him again, noticing the way he kept shifting nervously like he was worried heโd said the wrong thing somehow. It wasโฆ surprisingly considerate of him.
Nancy sighed lightly and uncrossed her arms. โOkay. Iโll help.โ
Steve visibly relaxed. โSeriously?โ
โYes, Steve. Seriously.โ
Nancy reached for the door, then paused. โDo you at least know what size she wears?โ
Steve hesitated.
Nancy looked back over her shoulder. โโฆSteve.โ
He grimaced slightly. โWell, sheโs been wearing my clothes. So no.โ
Nancy closed her eyes briefly before opening the door. โGive me a minute. I need to tell my mom Iโm going out.โ
Steve nodded quickly. โYeah. Okay.โ
Nancy disappeared inside, leaving Steve standing alone on the Wheeler porch again, feeling, for the first time since heโd pulled up, like this might actually work.
The bell above the door chimed softly as they stepped into the shop. Warm air wrapped around them almost immediately, carrying the faint scent of detergent and something floral Steve couldnโt quite place. The place was small, but neat. Rows of folded sweaters, racks organized by color, a few mannequins in the window dressed like they belonged in a catalog.
It felt slow.
Steve lingered near the entrance for half a second too long before following Nancy inside.
She moved through the store like sheโd been there before, fingers brushing over fabrics, pausing just long enough to check sizes before pulling things from racks. Steve trailed behind her, arms steadily filling with whatever she handed him. First a couple shirts, then shorts, then a pair of sweatpants that looked like they might actually fit without being rolled twice.
โThese should work,โ Nancy said, glancing over her shoulder briefly.
Steve nodded, adjusting his grip as another item got added to the growing pile. He didnโt really know what working meant in this context, but Nancy seemed confident, and that was enough.
For a while, it was easy. Normal clothes and in safe territory. He could do this part.
Nancy moved on to a small display of socks, picking out a few pairs without much thought. Steve shifted the stack in his arms again, trying to keep everything balanced as it threatened to slide.
โThis is a lot,โ he muttered under his breath.
Nancy didnโt look up. โShe doesnโt have anything, Steve.โ
โI know,โ he said quickly. โI just- yeah. I know.โ
The words came out softer than he meant them to.
Nancy glanced at him then, just briefly, before turning back to the rack. She stepped back like she was assessing everything sheโd picked so far.
โOkay,โ she said. โThat should cover most of it.โ
Steve nodded again, relieved. โGood. Great. Awesome. Weโre done.โ
Nancy didnโt answer. Instead, she turned toward the back of the store.
Steve followed her line of sight and immediately felt his stomach drop.
โNope.โ
Nancy paused mid-step and looked back at him.
โNope,โ Steve repeated, already shaking his head. โNo, Iโm gonna wait right here.โ
Nancy raised an eyebrow. โSteve.โ
โIโm serious,โ he said, tightening his hold on the clothes as if that somehow proved his point. โThis is where I tap out.โ
Nancy sighed, the sound quiet but long-suffering. โYouโre not โtapping out.โ Youโre helping.โ
โI am helping,โ Steve insisted. He shifted the stack again, nearly dropping a shirt in the process before catching it against his chest. โLook at this. This is helpful. Iโm doing great.โ
Nancy crossed her arms. โYouโre coming with me.โ
Steve didnโt move.
Nancy stared at him for a second, unimpressed.
โItโs just underwear.โ
Steve made a face, his gaze immediately darting anywhere but in that direction. The ceiling, the racks racks, the front window. Anywhere.
โThatโs exactly the problem.โ
Nancy let out a short breath, clearly fighting the urge to laugh. โItโs not like youโve never seen this stuff before.โ
โThatโs not the point,โ Steve shot back quickly. He shifted the clothes again, buying himself a second before lowering his voice slightly. โI donโt want to be a creep.โ
Nancy blinked.
Thatโฆ wasnโt the reaction sheโd expected.
Steve exhaled, glancing toward the back of the store again before looking away just as fast. โShe doesnโt have anything,โ he said, quieter now. โI donโt even know what Iโm supposed to be looking for, and Iโm not about to just guess at it. That feelsโฆ weird.โ
He hesitated, then added, a little more firmly, โWrong, actually.โ
Nancy watched him for a moment, her expression shifting as the pieces clicked into place.
He wasnโt embarrassed in the way sheโd assumed. He was trying to be careful.
Steve adjusted the pile in his arms again, the movement restless. โShe should at least get some privacy with this stuff,โ he continued. โLike.. itโs hers. I donโt need to be involved in every part of it.โ
There was a small pause between them, the kind that settled instead of stretched. Nancyโs shoulders dropped just slightly.
โOkay,โ she said.
Steve blinked. โOkay?โ
โIโll handle it,โ she repeated, already turning toward the section. โJust stay here and try not to drop everything.โ
Steve let out a quiet breath of relief. โOh, I wonโt. This is my entire job now.โ
Nancy rolled her eyes, but there was no bite to it as she disappeared between the racks in the back.
Steve stayed exactly where he was, standing in the middle of the store with an armful of clothes and nowhere to put them. For a second, he considered setting everything down, but the idea of reorganizing it later felt like more work than just holding it. So he stayed, waiting.
A few minutes passed.
He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, then back again, glancing around the store in an attempt to look like he absolutely belonged there and wasnโt counting down the seconds until Nancy came back.
An older woman behind the counter looked up briefly, offering him a polite smile before returning to whatever sheโd been doing.
Steve nodded back awkwardly.
This was fine. Totally normal.
Just a guy standing in a clothing store holding a pile of girlsโ clothes.
Nothing weird about that.
He adjusted the stack again as something slipped, catching it just in time with his elbow.
โDonโt drop it,โ he muttered under his breath. โThatโs the one thing youโre supposed to do.โ
From the back of the store, he could hear the faint rustle of hangers shifting, the soft scrape of fabric being moved aside.
Then Nancyโs voice, distant.
โDo you think sheโd prefer these or something softer?โ
Steve froze.
โโฆIโm not answering that!โ he called back immediately.
There was a beat of silence.
Then Nancyโs muffled laugh.
Steve had dropped Nancy off a few minutes earlier, thanking her quietly before heading home.
By the time he pulled into his driveway, the house was dark.
He grabbed the bags from the passenger seat, adjusting them against his arm before heading up the walkway. The porch light flickered on above him as he reached the door, casting everything in that familiar warm glow.
The lock clicked as he pushed it open.
Four stood just inside the doorway like she had been waiting, her posture still in that way she got when she wasnโt sure if she was supposed to move first or not. One of his t-shirts hung past her thighs, the sleeves too long, the collar slipping slightly off one shoulder.
Steve paused for half a second, something in his chest easing at the sight of her.
โHey,โ he said, softer than he meant to.
Fourโs eyes dropped almost immediately to the bags in his hands.
Steve noticed.
He shifted them slightly, lifting one just enough for her to see. โGot you some stuff.โ
She didnโt move right away, just looked at the bags like she wasnโt entirely sure what that meant.
โItโs-โ Steve hesitated, then shrugged lightly. โClothes. Actual ones. That might, you knowโฆ fit.โ
She stepped a little closer, quiet and careful, her attention fixed entirely on what he was holding. After a second, she reached out and took one of the bags from him, fingers curling around the handles like she expected it to be taken back.
โโฆfor me?โ she asked, her voice quiet but clearer than it had been a few days ago.
Steveโs expression softened without him really thinking about it. โYeah. For you.โ
That seemed to settle something.
He huffed out a small breath, half nervous, half amused, and gestured with his head toward the stairs. โCโmon.โ
He turned and started up, not checking if she followed, because she always did.
Sure enough, he could hear her behind him, light steps trailing a pace or two back as they moved through the house. It had become a kind of routine over the last few days. If he was home, she wasnโt far. If he moved, she followed.
He didnโt mind.
By the time he pushed open his bedroom door, she was right there at his shoulder, stopping just short of stepping inside until he did first.
Steve crossed the room and dropped the remaining bags onto his bed, the fabric rustling softly as he let go. โOkay,โ he said, rubbing the back of his neck. โSo Nancy helped. I didnโt just, like, guess. For the record.โ
Four lingered near the door for a moment before stepping further in, her gaze moving between Steve and the bags like she wasnโt sure which one to focus on.
Steve shifted his weight, glancing at the bags and then back at her. โYou can, uh, try stuff on. If you want.โ
Four didnโt react to the awkwardness, just nodded once, before turning toward the bathroom.
The door closed softly behind her.
Steve let out a breath the second she disappeared, sitting on the edge of his bed with his elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped together as he stared at the floor.
This was fine.
Everything was fine.
A few minutes passed and he could hear faint movement from the bathroom, the soft shift of fabric, and the quiet creak of the floor.
Then the door opened and Steve looked up.
Four stood in the doorway, hesitating for just a second before stepping into the room.
She was wearing one of the sweaters Nancy had picked out.
It fit. Not oversized or slipping off her shoulders. Not something she had to hold in place.
It fit.
Steve blinked once, then pushed himself to his feet.
โBetter?โ he asked.
Four glanced down at herself, fingers brushing lightly over the fabric like she was still getting used to how it felt.
โโฆit fits,โ she said, almost like she wasnโt used to that being true.
Steve nodded once, like that settled it. โGood.โ
There was a small pause.
Then Four shifted slightly, her grip tightening just a little on the hem of the sweater before she looked back at him.
She didnโt say anything else.
She didnโt have to.
Steve glanced at the rest of the bags on the bed, then back at her. โThereโs more in there,โ he said. โYou can go through it. Keep whatever you want.โ
She nodded again, a little more certain this time.
โโฆokay.โ
Four moved past him without hesitating now, stepping up to the bed and reaching for the bags on her own.
Steve watched her for a second, then looked away, giving her the space without making a thing out of it.
He clapped his hands together softly, breaking the quiet before offering her a small smile.
The day Will Byers went missing, Hawkins stopped being the quiet little town where nothing ever happened. And when he was found, for a while, it seemed like things might go back to normal. At least for some people. Between the noise and the danger, there are still moments of stillness. Moments where the world slows down, and something quieter begins to take shape.
โง ๐๐ข๐ฌ๐ฎ๐๐ฅ๐ฌ โง
Ro
Steve
โง ๐๐๐ซ๐ง๐ข๐ง๐ ๐ฌ โง
Slow burn, Protective Steve, Past Trauma, Past Abuse, Hurt/Comfort, Found Family, Fluff
โง ๐๐๐ญ ๐ โง
โค Something That Fits
โค Borrowed Habits
โค December Lights
โค Unexpected Visit
โค (More to Come)
โง ๐๐ฑ๐ญ๐ซ๐๐ฌ โง
This is a little sub series tied to my main fic, The Space Between Static.
Itโs mainly just a bunch of little ficlets that will take place between seasons that I felt like were gonna be alittle too random to insert into the main series.
1. Will be creating a little sub series that like takes place between seasons that I felt like would be considered filler and I donโt really wanna have like so many little chapter leading up to like the rest of the Acts. Iโll start creating some of those for the mean time while I work out everything In Act 2.
So stay tuned for that.
Secondly would it be appealing to you guys to have each Act have its own little Masterlist with new visuals and itโll have more warnings and all that good stuff, or would you guys prefer I just add onto the one already made and just change those visuals as we go?
When Steve Harrington stops for what he thinks is nothing more than a trick of the dark, he doesnโt expect to find a girl collapsing into his arms in the middle of the road.
AN: my lord so sorry for the late update. I ended up procrastinating lmao. But aye last chapter for act 1! It is the end :) hope you guys enjoy!
<<Previous Ch. | Masterlist
Night settled over the house in a quiet blanket.
Not the comfortable kind, not the kind that came after the dishes were done and television had been switched off.
The quiet was deliberate.
Steve stood at the front door, staring at the lock. Heโd already checked it twice.
The deadbolt sat firmly in place. The chain was hooked. The knob didnโt budge when he tested it. Still, he lingered.
Behind him, the living room lamp cast a low amber glow across the carpet. The rest of the house had gone dark an hour ago.
Upstairs, a floorboard creaked softly. He froze, then relaxed.
Just the house settling. Or her shifting in bed. He told himself that was what it was.
โSteve.โ Nancyโs voice cut gently through the silence.
He didnโt turn around.
โI know,โ he said.
โYou already checked it.โ
โI know.โ
Silence stretched between them, thin and brittle.
โShe canโt stay hidden forever,โ Nancy said carefully.
Steveโs jaw tightened.
โSheโs not hidden.โ
Nancy didnโt argue the wording.
โFor now,โ she said instead. โYou canโt keep pretending like this is permanent.โ
That made him turn around. โSheโs not going anywhere.โ
Nancy held his gaze. โThatโs not what I meant.โ
He ran a hand through his hair. โThen what do you mean?โ
โShe deserves something stable.โ
โShe is stable.โ
โSteve.โ
โShe sleeps through the night now,โ he said, like that was proof enough. โShe eats. She laughs. She-โ He stopped himself.
Nancyโs voice stayed calm. โThatโs not the same thing.โ
He looked away first.
โSheโs safe here,โ he said quietly.
โFor now.โ
He exhaled sharply through his nose. โWhy do you and Jonathan keep saying that like Iโm not trying?โ He scrubbed a hand over his face, voice tightening despite himself. โIโm doing everything I can.โ
โI know you are,โ Nancy said, hesitating slightly.
โWe canโt keep this between us,โ she said carefully. โWe should tell someone. Hopper-โ
โNo.โ The word came fast. Immediate. โAbsolutely not.โ
โSteve-โ
โBringing in the authorities is the worst idea.โ
Nancy shook her head. โHeโs not just โthe authorities.โ He helped Will. He knows what this is. Heโd know what to do.โ
Steve let out a short, humorless laugh. โYeah. Exactly. Heโd know what to do.โ
Nancyโs expression shifted. โWhat is that supposed to mean?โ
โHeโll take her,โ Steve said flatly. โThatโs what it means.โ
Silence.
โHe wonโt justโฆ let her stay here.โ
Nancy didnโt answer right away.
โSteve-โ
โNo,โ he said again, softer this time, but no less firm. โSheโs not some case. Sheโs not evidence. Sheโs not something that gets handed off because it makes more sense on paper.โ
โHeโd keep her safe.โ
โShe is safe.โ
โFor now.โ
His jaw tightened again.
โSheโs not going anywhere.โ
The words sat between them, heavy but not hostile.
Nancy held his gaze for a long moment, like she was measuring how much of that was determination and how much was fear. โIโm not your enemy,โ she said quietly.
Steveโs shoulders dropped an inch. โI know,โ he muttered, fight draining out of him as quickly as it had flared.
The silence that followed wasnโt sharp anymore, just tired.
Nancy stepped back first. โYou donโt have to do this alone.โ
He ran a hand over his face, scrubbing away the edge of his temper. โYeah. I just-โ He exhaled, through his nose. โSorry. I didnโt mean to snap.โ
โYouโre stressed,โ she said.
He gave a humorless huff. โUnderstatement.โ
Another quiet stretch settled between them before he added, softer now, โSheโs not a mistake.โ
Nancy didnโt hesitate. โI know.โ
Something in him eased at that. Not fully. Not enough. But enough to let him breathe.
He turned back to the door and checked the deadbolt again out of habit, tugging once at the knob even though he already knew it wouldnโt move. The chain stayed hooked. The lock held firm. Only then did he step back.
Nancy switched off the lamp, and the living room slipped into shadow.
They went upstairs without speaking, the house creaking faintly around them. Halfway down the hall, Steve slowed near the guest room. The door was closed, no light slipping from beneath it, no sound to suggest movement inside.
He lingered longer than he meant to, staring at the handle like he might knock. Like he might open it just a crack to check.
He didnโt.
He told himself she was asleep.
He moved on, following Nancy to his room. The door shut softly at the end of the hall.
Ro hadnโt slept.
She had been sitting upright in the dark long after the lights went out, hands folded in her lap, the faint words echoing in the back of her mind longer than she wanted them to.
They hadnโt all reached her clearly. The walls had swallowed most of it, but some had slipped through. She had heard Steveโs voice rise, heard the sharp edge of it when he felt cornered. She knew that sound now.
He was stressed.
Because of her.
Her fingers curled slightly against her knees as the realization settled heavier in her chest. She hadnโt meant to cause something like this, hadnโt meant to wedge herself into a space that didnโt belong to her. The house had started to feel warm, safe in a way she hadnโt expected, and sheโd let herself settle into it without realizing that settling might come with consequences.
Her gaze drifted to her wrist, where the watch caught the faintest sliver of light from the window, the glass reflecting back at her. It covered the numbers completely. He had fastened it gently that afternoon, careful and deliberate, like it mattered.
If she stayed, they would argue again. If someone came, he would fight them. If she left, he wouldnโt have to.
The thought didnโt come with panic. It came with clarity.
She hadnโt meant to stay this long or to matter this much.
Ro stood slowly, careful not to let the mattress creak beneath her weight, and paused to listen to the house breathe around her. Pipes ticked softly in the walls. A floorboard shifted somewhere down the hall, then settled.
No movement followed.
She slipped on her shoes and tugged the sweater tighter around herself, grounding in the familiar weight. The watch stayed on her wrist.
When she opened her door, the hallway greeted her in shadow. She paused outside his room, the door closed and quiet, and for a moment considered knocking. Telling him she understood. Telling him she would fix it.
Instead, she stepped past.
She crept down the stairs, mindful of where she placed her feet, moving carefully as if she had memorized which boards would betray her and which would stay quiet. The entryway waited at the bottom, dim and still. A patterned rug lay centered in front of the double doors, its edges straight and undisturbed, like everything in this house had its place. A small table stood to the side with a darkened lamp, framed photographs lining the wall above it, faces caught mid-laugh in moments that no longer moved.
Ro didnโt linger on them.
She stopped at the last step and looked at the doors. Dark brown, solid and heavy. The brass chain and deadbolt rested in their locked positions.
Her fingers hovered over the chain before she lifted it carefully. The metal gave with a soft click, louder in the silence than it should have been, and she froze to listen.
The house remained still.
She turned the deadbolt slowly, it slid back with a muted sound beneath her palm. For a second longer she stood there with her hand against the wood, feeling its cool surface, before turning the knob and easing the door open.
Cool air slipped inside first, carrying the faint scent of damp grass and early spring. The sky wasnโt fully awake yet, washed in pale blue and gray, the sun still hidden below the horizon.
Ro stepped onto the porch.
The world was quiet. No cars passed, no doors opened, no voices carried through the neighborhood. Even the trees stood still, their branches unmoving.
It didnโt feel like running. It felt like slipping out of something.
She pulled the door closed behind her, easing it shut so it wouldnโt latch too loudly. The click was soft.
For a moment she stood there, looking at the house. It looked the same as it always did, blinds drawn halfway in the living room, windows dark and unreadable.
Her fingers brushed the watch at her wrist before she stepped off the porch and onto the driveway.
The pavement was cool beneath her shoes as the sky lightened by degrees. She reached the end of the walk without looking back and kept moving.
The neighborhood thinned gradually, houses giving way to longer stretches of road, mailboxes spaced farther apart, trees crowding closer to the edges. The air carried an early-spring chill that didnโt bite, just lingered against her skin. Her steps were steady, neither rushed nor hesitant. She didnโt know exactly where she was going, only that she couldnโt stay.
The sky shifted overhead as gray melted into pale blue and birds began to stir somewhere in the trees, small sounds building morning from nothing. Ro adjusted the sleeves slipping over her hands and shifted the watch once at her wrist out of habit. Her throat tightened, but she didnโt slow.
The road curved ahead, dipping slightly where branches leaned inward, forming a loose arch over the asphalt. The town felt distant here, the quiet belonging to open space rather than walls.
That was when she heard the engine.
It rumbled low at first, growing louder as it rounded the bend. Ro didnโt change her pace. The blazer slowed as it approached, gravel crunching as it pulled onto the shoulder a few yards in front of her. The engine idled before the driverโs door opened and boots hit the pavement.
โHey.โ
The voice carried without sharpness.
โItโs a little early for a walk, isnโt it?โ
Her steps slowed before she could stop them, and she turned just enough to see him standing beside the truck, hands resting on his hips, posture steady but not aggressive.
She knew she shouldnโt have been on the road. She should have cut through the trees and stayed hidden. But she didnโt want to keep running from everything, not anymore.
So she turned fully.
Morning light caught the badge pinned to his chest, dull and unpolished, as his eyes moved over her quietly, taking in the sweater, the shoes, the watch at her wrist, the fact that she carried nothing with her.
โYou get lost?โ he asked evenly.
She didnโt answer. Her fingers tightened inside her sleeves as she held his gaze a second too long.
Hopper studied her in return, something in his expression shifting, suspicion.
โYou wanna tell me where youโre headed?โ he asked, voice softer now.
Her throat worked, but no answer came.
โYou run away from home?โ he tried instead, the question not harsh but heavier than the others.
Roโs gaze dropped immediately, her arms folding across her chest in an instinctive attempt to hold herself together. Hopper shifted his weight and spoke in the same steady tone. โLook, kid, whatever happened, your parents are probably worried sick. Who are they? Iโll drive you home.โ
The word parents seemed to confuse her more than the question.
โSteve,โ she said quietly.
It slipped out before she could stop it.
โSteve?โ Hopper repeated, searching his memory. โSteve Harrington?โ
She didnโt correct herself.
Something unsettled passed through his expression as he stepped closer, not abruptly, just enough to see her more clearly in the growing light. โLet me see your hand,โ he said.
She hesitated, then lowered one arm. When he reached for her wrist, she flinched, not in protest, just a small reflexive recoil that spoke of habit more than fear. She didnโt pull away. She simply let him take her hand.
The watch caught his eye first.
He thumbed the strap lightly. โYou mind?โ he asked, already shifting it aside with careful fingers.
The band moved just enough.
Hopperโs jaw tightened, though he didnโt react outwardly. He let the watch slide back into place, covering the numbers again with quiet care.
โHow long you been staying with Steve?โ he asked.
โAwhile,โ she said.
He studied her more carefully now, the oversized sweater, the new watch, the way she stood like she was waiting to be told sheโd done something wrong.
โAwhile,โ he repeated evenly. โDays? Weeks?โ
She shook her head.
โMonths?โ
After a beat, she nodded.
Something settled heavily in his chest.
โYou run away,โ he asked carefully, โor did something happen?โ
โI didnโt want to cause problems,โ she murmured.
He held her there in the quiet morning for several seconds, weighing something private, then jerked his head toward the truck.
โCome on,โ he said, gentler now. โLetโs get you warm.โ
Only then did she notice the tremor in her hands, the way her shoulders had tightened against the cold. She hadnโt realized she was shivering.
He didnโt touch her again, but stayed close enough to guide her toward the passenger side. Once she climbed in, he pulled an old blanket from behind the seat and draped it over her shoulders without ceremony before shutting the door.
The truck rumbled to life and heat kicked on slow and steady as he pulled back onto the road. Neither of them spoke. The sky brightened gradually through the windshield, morning unfolding.
Ro stared ahead with her hands tucked beneath the blanket.
Hopper tightened his grip slightly on the steering wheel.
He didnโt ask more questions.
Steve woke to light, not the harsh kind, or anything urgent, just pale morning filtering through the curtains and warming the side of the bed. For a second he lay there, disoriented but calm, listening to the quiet hum of the house while Nancy slept beside him, one arm tucked under her pillow, breathing steady and even.
He rubbed a hand over his face and sat up, careful not to wake her, his muscles protesting as he stood, exhaustion still clinging faintly from the night before.
When he stepped into the hallway, he noticed the guest room door standing slightly ajar and paused only a second. Ro woke early sometimes, earlier than him, and would sit in the living room when the sun started creeping in, or hover in the kitchen without turning anything on, just existing quietly in the space.
He kept walking.
The house smelled faintly like wood and old air, quiet in that soft, pre-breakfast way. He made it halfway down the stairs before calling out, casually.
โRo?โ
No answer.
He reached the bottom and glanced toward the living room, expecting to see her tucked into the corner of the couch, knees drawn to her chest. Instead, the cushions were undisturbed and the television sat dark.
He frowned slightly and crossed into the kitchen.
Nothing there either, no glass on the table, no chair pulled back, no sweater draped over the counter.
โRo?โ he called again, a little louder this time.
Silence met him, and something small but sharp slipped under his ribs.
He turned and headed back upstairs, faster now, two steps at a time. The bathroom door stood open. He pushed it wider anyway, scanning automatically.
Empty.
His chest tightened as he moved down the hall and pushed the guest room door fully open.
The bed was made, not messy or half-slept in, but smoothed carefully, blanket pulled back into place. The air inside the room felt untouched.
His pulse jumped.
โRo.โ
Her name came out sharper this time as he crossed the room, checking behind the door, the closet, the window. Closed.
He backed into the hallway again, heart picking up speed, and headed downstairs.
โRo!โ
This time the name cracked.
He checked the living room again as if it might have changed in the last thirty seconds, glanced behind the couch, opened the pantry like she might have decided to explore it.
Nothing.
His breathing turned shallow, and uneven as he crossed the entryway and stopped.
The front door stood in front of him, the chain hanging loose and the deadbolt turned back. The handle sat slightly misaligned, as though it had been used recently.
For a second he simply stared, his mind refusing to rearrange what he was seeing. The chain didnโt fall open on its own. The deadbolt didnโt slide back by accident.
Air left his lungs in a sharp pull.
โRoโฆโ he breathed, stepping closer to the door like it might explain itself.
โSteve?โ Nancyโs voice floated down the stairs, thick with sleep. โWhatโs going on?โ
He turned too fast, looking up at her where she stood near the top of the staircase, hair mussed, confusion etched across her face.
โSheโs gone.โ
Nancy frowned. โWhat?โ
โRoโs gone,โ he repeated, louder now, panic etching into his voice. โSheโs not upstairs. The roomโs empty.โ
Nancy started down the stairs, more alert with every step. โDid you check the bathroom?โ
โYes. I checked everywhere.โ
She reached the bottom step and followed his line of sight to the front door. โWas there a break-in?โ
He shook his head immediately. โNo. Windows are closed. Nothingโs broken.โ
Her eyes landed on the locks.
Steve gestured helplessly toward them. โShe unlocked it.โ
The realization felt heavier when he said it out loud.
โThe chainโs off. The deadboltโs turned.โ He said, voice tightening. โShe walked out.โ
Nancy absorbed that in silence as Steve ran a hand through his hair and paced once across the entryway before stopping again.
โWhy would she leave?โ He asked, bewildered rather than angry. โShe doesnโt go anywhere alone. She wonโt even step into the yard.โ
Nancy hesitated. โMaybe she heard something. Maybe she-โ
โNo,โ he cut in quickly, shaking his head. โIf something scared her, she wouldโve woken me up. She wouldโve-โ He faltered. โShe wouldnโt just leave.โ
The word sounded wrong even to him.
โHow long do you think sheโs been gone?โ Nancy asked.
Steve glanced at the clock on the wall. โI donโt know. An hour? Maybe more.โ His stomach dropped. โShe could be anywhere.โ
The house suddenly felt too still.
โSheโs out there,โ he muttered, more to himself than to Nancy. โAlone.โ
Nancy stepped closer, steady despite the tension in her voice. โShe canโt be far,โ she said gently. โHey. Weโll find her.โ
Steve nodded once, though it didnโt ease the pressure in his chest.
โIโm getting dressed,โ she said, already turning toward the stairs.
Steve remained frozen for a second longer, staring at the door as if it might move on its own, before forcing himself into motion. He took the stairs two at a time, barely registering the room around him as he pulled on jeans and a sweater, fingers clumsy in his haste while his thoughts outran him.
Where would she go? Toward town? Toward the woods? Did she even know which direction was which?
He was back downstairs before Nancy, keys already clenched in his hand. She followed moment later, tying her hair back, face set with focus instead of sleep.
โWeโll check the main road first,โ she said. โIf she walked-โ
Steve didnโt wait for her to finish. He reached for the front door and pulled it open.
And stopped.
A tan blazer sat parked at the curb directly in front of the house, black lettering on the door catching the morning light.
HAWKINS POLICE DEPT.
Steveโs stomach dropped.
Leaning against the hood, cigarette between his fingers, stood Hopper. He looked up at the sound of the door opening, smoke curling lazily into the cold air, his expression unreadable in that steady way that made him harder to read.
Steve froze on the threshold.
For one sharp, terrifying second, his brain filled in the worst possible version of events.
Then the passenger door opened and Ro stepped out.
Relief slammed into him so hard it nearly knocked the breath out of his lungs.
She stood there wrapped in a blanket, sweater sleeves hanging past her hands, hair slightly wind-tossed.
โRo-โ
He didnโt remember crossing the the distance. One moment he was on the porch, the next he was in front of her, hands already reaching.
He pulled her into him. She stumbled slightly from the force of it, but her arms came up instinctively, wrapping around his middle. She held on tighter than he expected, fingers bunching into the fabric of his sweater like sheโd been bracing for something and finally let it go.
Steve buried his face briefly against the top of her head, breathing her in like he needed proof she was real. The blanket smelled faintly like smoke and cold morning air, and his grip tightened before he forced himself to loosen it.
โYou scared the hell out of me,โ he breathed, voice rough.
She didnโt answer, just held on.
That alone made something twist in his chest.
After a moment, he pulled back just enough to look at her, hands sliding carefully to her shoulders as his eyes scanned her face, her arms, her jaw, searching for injury.
โAre you okay?โ he asked urgently. โDid you get hurt? Did you-โ
His hands hovered near her wrists before he stopped himself, forcing his touch to renain gentle. โAre you alright?โ
She nodded once, small and quiet, eyes lifting to his.
He searched her face another second, then let out a shaky breath he hadnโt realized heโd been holding.
Hopper cleared his throat, the sound wasnโt loud, but sharp enough to slice through the moment.
Steve stiffened, awareness settling back over him like cold water. Heโd forgotten they werenโt alone.
โInside,โ Hopper said, pushing off the hood of the Blazer and straightened to his full height. The cigarette burned low between his fingers as his eyes moved briefly to Ro, before returning to Steve. โLetโs go inside.โ
There was no room for argument in his tone.
โNow.โ
Ro reacted before either of them could. She slipped from Steveโs arms and moved toward the porch steps, blanket clutched tight around her shoulders. The command had landed somewhere instinctive and old, and she obeyed it without hesitation.
Steve noticed that.
He followed immediately, one hand hovering near her back, unwilling to let her drift even a step too far from him. Nancy stood on the porch by then, her expression tight but controlled as she held the door open and let Ro pass inside first.
Hopper took one last drag from the cigarette, crushed it beneath his boot, and followed them up the walk.
The front door shut behind all of them with a heavier sound than before.
They moved into the living room without speaking. The air felt thicker than it had minutes ago, heavy with something unspoken.
Ro sat on the couch between Steve and Nancy without being directed. The blanket pooled around her legs, and after a moment her hand drifted sideways, seeking Nancyโs. Nancy clasped it automatically, thumb brushing once over her knuckles in quiet reassurance.
Steve remained on the edge of the cushion, elbows braced against his knees, eyes fixed on Hopper.
Hopper didnโt sit.
He paced once across the rug, then back again, one hand braced at his hip while the other dragged slowly down his face, as though he were trying to press his frustration back into something manegable. His jaw worked, holding back words that clearly wanted to come out harder.
โHow long?โ he asked at last, stopping in front of them.
Steve blinked. โWhat?โ
Hopper didnโt look at him. His gaze lingered on Ro for a fraction of a second before shifting between Steve and Nancy.
โHow long has she been staying here?โ
The room went quiet.
Nancyโs fingers tightened slightly around Roโs hand. Steve didnโt answer.
Hopperโs posture stiffened. โHow long?โ he repeated, this time sharper, control thinning. โHow long has she been living in this house?โ
The silence stretched a second too long.
โHow long has she been staying here?โ He demanded, his voice rising just short of a shout.
โWhen Will was brought back,โ Nancy said quietly. โFrom the Upside Down.โ
The words landed heavier than their volume suggested.
Hopper stared at her. Then at Steve. Then back at Nancy again.
โYouโve gotta be kidding me,โ he muttered, dragging a hand over his face before turning away. He paced once toward the window and back again, rubbing his temple as though he could knead logic into what heโd just heard.
โYouโre telling me,โ he said slowly, incredulously, โthat sheโs been here for five months?โ
Neither of them corrected him.
โAnd you didnโt think to-โ He exhaled sharply, words snapping loose now. โ-oh, I donโt know, tell me?โ
Steve bristled immediately. โWe didnโt-โ
โYou didnโt think to tell me?โ Hopper cut in, turning back toward them. โAfter everything that happened? After what that lab did? You thought keeping their kid hidden in a suburban house was the better plan?โ
Roโs fingers tightened instinctively around Nancyโs.
โWe were protecting her,โ Nancy said, steady.
Hopper barked out a humorless laugh. โFrom who? Me?โ
โNo,โ Steve shot back, finally rising to his feet. โFrom them.โ
Hopperโs expression hardened. โYou think you handled it?โ
โWe did handle it,โ Steve insisted, shoulders squared even as his pulse hammered.
Hopper stared at him for a long moment. โHandled it?โ he repeated, voice low and tightly contained. โLook where she ended up.โ
Steveโs jaw locked.
โShe was walking alone on the side of the road at six in the morning,โ Hopper continued, stepping closer. โNo bag. No plan. Just gone.โ
Ro shrank slightly into herself.
โWhat if I wasnโt the one who found her?โ Hopper pressed. โWhat if it had been someone else? What if it had been someone from the lab?โ
The word lingered in the room.
โShe wouldโve ended up right back in that place,โ Hopper finished, quieter now but no less intense. โAnd you wouldnโt have even known until it was too late.โ
The image hit Steve a beat later than it should have, Ro in the back of a car, fluorescent lights, concrete walls, and his stomach twisted hard.
โYou got lucky,โ Hopper said. โThatโs what happened. You got lucky.โ
The silence that followed felt suffocating.
Hopper let it stretch.
Then he asked, โWho else knows?โ
No one answered.
His eyes moved between them, reading the quiet more clearly than any words. โWho else knows sheโs been here?โ
Steve swallowed. โJonathan.โ
The name left his mouth flat and bitter.
Hopper gave a short nod. โAnyone else?โ
Steve shook his head. Nancy didnโt contradict him.
โSo the three of you decided this was the plan,โ Hopper said.
โIt wasnโt like that,โ Nancy tried carefully.
Hopper ignored the explanation. โWhat was your endgame?โ he asked, looking directly at Steve now. โYou were just going to hide her? For how long?โ
Steve had no answer.
โA month? A year? Forever?โ Hopper pressed. โYou were going to keep her in this house and hope the lab forgot about her?โ
Steveโs silence said enough.
Nancy stepped in before the silence could calcify.
โYes, it was reckless,โ she admitted, steady despite the tightening of her grip on Roโs hand. โBut it worked. Five months, Hopper. No one found her. No one even suspects she was here.โ
Hopperโs gaze flicked to her.
โThat has to count for something.โ
For a moment, he said nothing. He looked at Ro, small and folded inward, then at Steve, braced like he was preparing to take a hit. Then at Nancy, trying to hold the line between them.
โAnd this morning?โ Hopper asked quietly.
Nancy hesitated only briefly. โThis morning was a hiccup. It wonโt happen again.โ
Hopperโs eyes shifted back to Ro.
โYouโre right,โ he said after a beat.
The air in the room tightened.
โIt wonโt.โ
Steve stiffened as Hopper straightened, the decision settling visibly into his posture like something heavy locking into place.
โBecause sheโs not staying here anymore.โ
For a split second the words didnโt register. Then Steve moved before he realized he had.
โSheโs not leaving.โ He said, the words tore out sharp and immediate.
Hopper didnโt flinch.
โYou donโt have a say in this anymore,โ he replied evenly.
โLike hell I donโt,โ Steve shot back, stepping fully in front of the couch now without thinking about it, instinct placing him between Hopper and Ro. โYou canโt just walk in here and decide that.โ
Hopperโs expression hardened. โShe is not your decision to make.โ
โWeโre the only thing sheโs had,โ Steveโs voice cracked despite himself. โWeโre the only thing sheโs ever known that wasnโt that place. You donโt get to just take her because you think itโs better.โ
Hopper took a slow step forward, controlled but immovable.
โIโm not taking her,โ he said, low and steady. โIโm protecting her.โ
โFrom what?โ Steve demanded. โSheโs safe here!โ
โShe was on the side of the road at sunrise,โ Hopper snapped back. โAlone.โ
The word alone hung there.
Steve faltered for half a second, but it wasnโt enough to stop him.
โThat doesnโt mean you get to rip her out of here,โ he said, voice rough now. โSheโs not some case.โ
Hopperโs jaw tightened.
โYouโre right,โ he said quietly. โSheโs not.โ
The room seemed to hold its breath.
โSheโs a kid whoโs already been failed by adults who thought they knew better. Iโm not adding to that list.โ
No one answered.
The weight of the statement settled into the room, heavy. Steve didnโt look at Ro. Nancy didnโt move. Even the faint hum of the house seemed to dull around them.
Hopper let the silence stretch before exhaling softly.
โJoyce will look after her,โ he said, more measured now. โShe understands what this is. And she knows how to keep her safe.โ
Steveโs head snapped up. โSheโs not going anywhere,โ he repeated, though the edge wavered this time. โWe can fix this. Whatever this morning was- we can fix it.โ
Hopperโs expression softened just slightly, but the resolve behind it didnโt shift.
โThen letโs ask her.โ
The room changed after that.
Hopper crouched so he wouldnโt tower over her, lowering his voice.
Ro hadnโt lifted her head once during the argument. Her gaze stayed fixed on the floor between her shoes, fingers curled tightly in Nancyโs hand, blanket pooled around her shoulders like armor she hadnโt chosen but was clinging to anyways.
When Hopper spoke to her, her shoulders tensed.
โHey, kid. You wanna come with me for a while? Stay with a friend of mine? Sheโs really nice. Sheโll look after you.โ
โHopper-โ Steve started, sharp and protective.
Hopper didnโt look at him.
โItโs your choice,โ he said gently. โNo oneโs dragging you anywhere.โ
The room went still again.
Roโs breathing remained shallow but steady. Slowly, her fingers loosened from Nancyโs hand. She didnโt look at Steve. Not yet.
After a long second, she lifted her eyes just enough to meet Hopperโs.
There was no defiance there. No fear.
Just something small and resigned.
She gave a faint nod.
Steve felt it before he understood it.
โRo,โ he said, the word breaking on the way out, lowering back down into the couch next to her. โYou donโt have to-โ
โShe made her decision, Steve.โ
Hopper didnโt raise his voice, but the interruption was final.
Steve went still.
He looked at Hopper then, really looked at him, something raw and wounded flashed across his face before it shuttered closed. Hopper didnโt miss it. Didnโt look away either.
For a second, the room felt like it might split down the middle.
Hopper shifted his gaze to Nancy.
โPack her a bag.โ
The instruction was calm. Practical. Already moving forward.
That was what did it.
Steveโs expression went blank, whatever fight had been burning there going cold all at once.
He stood abruptly, the movement sharp enough to pull a flinch from Ro.
He didnโt look at her. He didnโt look at anyone.
He just turned and walked toward the stairs, jaw tight, shoulders rigid. The first step creaked beneath him. The second. Then he disappeared upstairs without another word.
The silence he left behind was heavier than the argument.
Roโs fingers curled into the fabric of the blanket.
Nancy squeezed her hand gently. โStay here, okay?โ she murmured.
Ro nodded faintly.
Nancy released her and rose, casting Hopper a brief look before heading toward the stairs.
Ro didnโt move after Steve disappeared.
She sat exactly where she had been, hands folded loosely in her lap now, the blanket slipping slightly off one shoulder. The house felt different without him in the room, colder somehow, even though nothing had changed.
Upstairs, a door closed.
Not slammed.
Just shut.
Hopper stepped closer and crouched again, careful not to crowd her.
โHey,โ he said quietly.
Ro didnโt look up.
โDonโt worry about him, okay?โ
Her fingers tightened in the blanket.
โHeโs not mad at you,โ Hopper added, voice even. โHeโs mad at the situation. At me. At himself. Thatโs different.โ
Ro swallowed.
The guilt had already settled in, heavy and persistent, pressing into her chest and curling low in her stomach, sharp and uncomfortable. She had heard enough the night before to know she had been the center of the argument. Now she was the center of this one too.
Every room she entered seemed to shift around her.
โI didnโt want to cause problems,โ she murmured.
Hopper studied her more carefully.
โYou didnโt,โ he said firmly. โYou didnโt cause this.โ
She didnโt argue, but she didnโt look convinced either.
Upstairs, faint movement echoed, drawers opening, footsteps crossing the floor.
โYou think leaving fixes things,โ Hopper said, after a moment, not accusing. Just stating. โIt doesnโt. It just moved the problem somewhere else.โ
Her eyes flicked up briefly before dropping again.
Footsteps continued overhead for several long minutes.
Drawers opening. Closing. The faint scrape of something being shifted across a dresser. Then silence again.
The stairs creaked softly.
Nancy appeared first, a small duffel bag in her hands, the strap looped around her wrist. It wasnt full, just enough.
Hopper stood and took the bag. Their hands brushed briefly. Nancyโs grip lingered half a second before she let go.
โEverything she needs is in there,โ Nancy said quietly.
Hopper nodded once.
Roโs eyes flicked to the bag and back down again, the finality settling heavier now that it had weight.
Nancy knelt in front of her and adjusted the blanket around her shoulders, smoothing it in the same absent way she had done a hundred times over the past months.
โItโs going to be okay,โ she said gently.
Ro nodded.
Nancy stood slowly.
โThatโs everything?โ Hopper asked.
โYes.โ
Upstairs remained silent.
Ro waited.
Just a second longer.
Her eyes stayed fixed on the staircase, as though she could will him into view.
He didnโt come.
The silence upstairs answered for him.
Hopper shifted slightly. โAlright.โ
Ro stood.
The blanket slipped from her shoulders and Nancy caught it before it touched the floor. For a moment, the three of them stood in the living room that had held five months of fragile mornings and steady routines.
Nancy stepped forward and pulled Ro into a hug.
It wasnโt tight, or desperate. It was steady.
โYouโre not in trouble,โ Nancy whispered. โOkay?โ
Ro nodded against her shoulder.
When Nancy pulled back, Hopper was already moving toward the door.
Ro followed.
She didnโt look upstairs again.
The front door opened, cool morning air slipping inside.
Ro crossed the threshold and the door closed with a soft, click.
When Steve Harrington stops for what he thinks is nothing more than a trick of the dark, he doesnโt expect to find a girl collapsing into his arms in the middle of the road.
AN: Just one more chapter and Act 1 will be complete! Next chapter will take me some extra time to get out since itโs gonna be a long one. Hope you guys are enjoying this so far!
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Morning slipped into the house gently.
The kitchen window was cracked open just enough to let in the early breeze, cool air threading through the warm scent of butter and syrup. The curtains stirred lazily with each passing gust, brushing against the wall in slow, absent movements.
Sunlight spilled across the floor in long, golden rectangles, stretching from the sink to the edge of the table.
Steve stood at the stove in an oversized sweater, sleeves pushed halfway up his forearms. He flipped a pancake with unnecessary flair, catching it cleanly in the pan.
Two weeks.
It had been two weeks since that night at the Byersโ house. Two weeks since flickering lights, smoke, and blood. Two weeks since heโd carried her back into his own house and decided she wasnโt going anywhere.
Things wereโฆ different now.
Not tense or fragile. Just new.
At the kitchen table, she sat with both hands wrapped around a glass of apple juice, watching the sunlight catch in it. The juice had become her favorite. She drank it slowly, thoughtfully, as if it required consideration.
She wasnโt as jumpy anymore.
The blinds were open. That alone felt like a milestone.
Steve flipped another pancake and tried not to smile.
โOkay,โ he said casually, like this was just another Saturday morning and not something quietly monumental. โYou want eggs too, or are we just gonna eat pancakes?โ
She looked up at him. Still quiet and careful, but there was something steadier in her now.
She tilted her head slightly.
โBoth,โ she said after a moment.
Steve blinked.
He grinned immediately. โBoth. Thatโs my girl.โ He winced. โNot- I mean- that came out weird.โ
She didnโt flinch at the correction. Instead, her mouth twitched faintly at the corners.
Steve turned back to the stove, feeling something warm settle in his chest that had nothing to do with the burners.
Two weeks.
She still followed him around the house, especially in the kitchen. She hovered just close enough to watch without crowding. Sometimes she handed him things before he asked. Sometimes she leaned against the counter and observed, as if he were the most fascinating television show.
He didnโt mind. Not even a little.
He slid a pancake onto her plate and carried it over, setting it down in front of her like a presentation.
โBoom,โ he said quietly. โFive-star establishment.โ
She studied it, then glanced at him.
โFive,โ she repeated.
He froze.
The number lingered in the air for half a second longer than it should have. He reached for the syrup bottle and unscrewed the cap slowly.
โWeโre not doing that,โ he said lightly.
She watched him closely as he drizzled syrup in a spiral pattern over the pancake.
โYouโre not a number,โ he added.
The breeze shifted through the window again. She looked down at her plate.
โโฆFour,โ she said, almost reflexively. Like she was correcting him.
He set the syrup down and crouched slightly so he wasnโt towering over her.
โI know thatโs what they called you,โ he said. โBut I donโt like it.โ
Her fingers tightened around her fork. He softened instantly.
โHey. Not because of you. I just-โ He huffed a quiet breath. โYou deserve something more, not a stupid number.โ
Silence stretched gently between them. She looked down at her apple juice. Steve scratched the back of his neck, slowly rising to his feet as he began pacing the kitchen.
โOkay,โ he said. โName. We need a name.โ
She looked up slowly.
He pointed at her with the spatula. โNot a number. A real one.โ
He paced once in front of the stove, as if this required serious strategic planning.
โUhโฆ Fo-โ He stopped himself immediately. โNope. Absolutely not. Sounds like Iโm calling you a sound effect.โ
Her lips twitched.
He tried again. โFou-Four-no, thatโs the problem.โ He blew out a breath. โRooโฆ?โ
The sound hung there for half a second.
He blinked.
โRo?โ
He hadnโt meant to say it like that. It slipped out softer than the others. She went still. He noticed immediately.
โโฆRo,โ he repeated, quieter this time, like he was testing it.
She mouthed it once without sound. Then again.
โRo.โ
It didnโt feel sharp. It didnโt feel like something stamped onto her skin.
It feltโฆ round. Simple. Easy.
Steve tried not to look too hopeful. โI mean. We can workshop. Iโve got range. I can keep throwing darts.โ
She shook her head once.
โRo,โ she said again.
And that was it. He grinned like heโd just won something he hadnโt realized he was competing for. โOkay. Ro it is.โ
He turned back to the stove, hiding the way his shoulders relaxed.
โAlright, Ro,โ he added casually. โIโll start on the eggs, go ahead and eat your pancake.โ
Later that afternoon, the house settled into an easy rhythm.
The dishes were done. The kitchen smelled faintly of soap and syrup. Somewhere downstairs, the television murmured low and forgettable.
Steve was in the living room, or maybe the hallway closet, or doing something loudly and practical that involved tools and mild swearing. The kind of thing that made noise just to prove he was still there.
For once, Ro wasnโt shadowing him. She was upstairs, in his room.
The blinds were open halfway now, letting in strips of afternoon light that warmed the carpet. She sat cross-legged on the floor near the bed, fidgeting with the loose thread at the edge of his comforter. She twisted it around her finger. Untwisted it then twisted it again.
Her hands had been restless all day.
Eventually, the thread snapped free.
She stared at it for a moment, then stood, carrying it carefully to the trash can by his desk. She dropped it in, brushing her fingers together like she could erase the sensation.
Thatโs when she saw it. A small box.
It sat near the edge of his desk, tucked partially beneath a stack of papers, as if it hadnโt meant to be obvious. Not really hidden.
She hadnโt seen it before. Ro stepped closer.
The box was simple, dark blue, slightly worn at the corners like it had been handled and set down and picked up again more than once.
Curiosity tugged at her. She glanced toward the hallway.
Silence.
Slowly, she picked it up. It wasnโt heavy.
Her thumb brushed along the seam before she lifted the lid.
Inside was a watch. The face was round and clean, the band a soft brown leather. It was simple.
It looked- Her gaze flicked instinctively to her wrist. Then back to the watch. It was almost identical to the one Steve usually wore.
She lifted it carefully from the box, turning it over in her hands. The leather bent easily under her fingers. The ticking was faint but present.
Something about it made her chest tighten. She didnโt hear the door open.
โUh-โ
She startled hard, nearly dropping it.
Steve stood in the doorway, one hand still on the frame like he hadnโt decided whether to fully enter or retreat. His eyes were locked on the watch in her hands.
For half a second, he looked like heโd been caught doing something wrong. Ro blinked at him.
He rubbed the back of his neck automatically. โSo. Yeah. That.โ
She looked down at it again.
โItโs not- I mean, it is-โ He exhaled sharply through his nose. โItโs a gift.โ
The word felt awkward in his mouth. She tilted her head.
โFor you,โ he clarified, stepping further into the room now. โI justโฆ hadnโt figured out the whole, presenting angle yet.โ
Her fingers tightened slightly around the band.
He shoved his hands into the pockets of his sweats, suddenly very interested in the carpet. โI noticed you, uhโฆ donโt like long sleeves all the time.โ
Her gaze dropped to her wrist again. To the faint numbers.
โItโs not because I think you have to hide it,โ he added quickly. โItโs just- if anyone sees it, theyโre gonna ask questions. And Iโd rather you not have to answer those.โ
He swallowed.
โAnd also,โ he muttered, softer now, โweโd match.โ
That earned him a look. He shrugged, trying for casual and landing somewhere shy instead. โMineโs the same. See?โ
He held up his own wrist. Ro looked down at it again. She stepped closer to him and held it out silently.
Steve blinked. โYou- want help?โ
A small nod.
He moved slowly, like approaching something fragile. He took the watch from her hands carefully, then gently lifted her wrist.
For a second, his fingers hovered over the numbers.
Not in judgment or shame. Just there.
Then he wrapped the band around her wrist and fastened it snugly, not tight, just enough to secure it.
It covered the numbers completely.
Ro turned her wrist over, watching the light catch on the glass face instead of her skin.
Steve cleared his throat. โIf you hate it, we can return it. I kept the receipt. Iโm responsible like that now.โ
She looked up at him then she shook her head.
โMatch,โ she said quietly.
His breath hitched in his chest before he could stop it.
When Steve Harrington stops for what he thinks is nothing more than a trick of the dark, he doesnโt expect to find a girl collapsing into his arms in the middle of the road.
AN: Act 1 is almost complete! Yay!
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The day passed quietly.
Four stayed where Steve had left her for a long time, curled on the edge of the bed with the blinds drawn tight against the afternoon light. She slept in pieces, drifting in and out of naps, waking each time with the same instinctive check, listening for footsteps, voices, or the sound of the car pulling into the driveway.
Nothing.
When she finally woke for good, the light had shifted. Thin lines of gold slipped through the edge of the blinds, dust motes floating lazily in the air. Her body felt heavy and strange, like it hadnโt quite decided whether it was done resting or not.
She sat up slowly. Staying in bed felt wrong now, too still and too quiet, which made her chest feel tight. She swung her legs over the side and sat there for a moment, remembering the rules.
Donโt open the door.
Donโt leave the house.
Keep the blinds closed.
Four moved slowly through the room, careful not to brush against anything she didnโt mean to. The space felt lived in, not arranged for efficiency or observation, but shaped by habit. By someone returning to the same places over and over again.
She stopped by the dresser first.
The top was cluttered, not messy exactly, just occupied. Loose change collected in shallow piles. A watch with a cracked face rested beside a thin, folded piece of paper. She didnโt touch any of it, only leaned closer, studying the way everything sat where it had been left.
She drifted toward the desk.
Papers were stacked unevenly, corners curled and marked with pencil lines. A notebook lay open, blank except for a few scribbles along the margins. She traced the edge of the desk with her fingertip, grounding herself in the solid feel of the wood.
She noticed it last.
A photograph, tucked into the corner of the desk like it hadnโt been meant to be displayed. The edge of the frame was worn, the glass smudged faintly where someone had picked it up more than once.
She hesitated before leaning closer. There were three people in the picture.
A younger Steve stood in the center, smaller and sharper somehow, his smile wide and unguarded in a way she hadnโt seen yet. An arm was slung loosely around his shoulders from either side, two adults framing him with easy familiarity. A man with the same dark hair and straight posture. A woman with a soft smile and eyes that lingered on Steve like he was the point of the photo.
She studied their faces. The closeness. The casual way they touched him.
Steve looked happy.
Four stepped back from the desk. The image stayed with her even as she turned away, settling somewhere quiet behind her eyes as she moved toward the door.
The hallway beyond his room felt cooler. She moved through it carefully, barefoot steps light against the carpet as she made her way toward the stairs.
Halfway down, her stomach tightened. The sensation was sharp enough to make her pause, hunger swelling low and insistent. She pressed a hand briefly to her middle, breath hitching as the feeling intensified.
She hadnโt noticed it before. Or maybe she had, and only now allowed herself to feel it.
Rounding the corner at the bottom of the stairs, the kitchen came into view. Everything looked the same as it had earlier, clean and orderly. The chairs were tucked in and the counters bare.
She stepped into the room, moving farther in as the ache in her stomach grew louder, drawing her toward the table. And for the first time since Steve had left, she wondered how long heโd be gone.
She stopped beside the refrigerator.
For a moment, she just looked at it. The white door felt too large, too ordinary to be dangerous, but habit made her hesitate anyway. Slowly, she reached out and pulled it open.
Cool air spilled over her bare feet.
Inside, everything was neatly arranged. Containers stacked, bottles lined up along the door. Her eyes moved carefully over each item, searching not for abundance, but for something recognizable. Something simple.
She found them on the middle shelf.
A clear container, half-full of red fruit. Small and bright.
Four frowned slightly as she lifted it, studying the shape and color. They looked soft. She popped the lid open cautiously and lifted one between her fingers, turning it once before bringing it to her mouth.
She bit down.
Sweetness flooded her senses all at once, bright and sharp and almost overwhelming. Juice burst against her tongue, the flavor clean in a way she wasnโt prepared for. Her breath caught, surprise flashing across her face before she could stop it.
She took another bite immediately.
Then another.
She leaned against the counter without realizing it, chewing slowly now, savoring the taste like it might disappear if she rushed it. The tart edge, and the sweetness beneath it. The way it made her chest feel warm and light all at once.
Four swallowed and stared at the container in her hands.
Sheโd never had anything like this before.
She ate another, smaller this time, careful now not to waste it. The hunger in her stomach easing.
A sound came from outside. Four froze, strawberry halfway to her mouth.
Tires crunching against the driveway, an engine idling then cutting off. The sound weaved through her chest so fast it almost hurt.
Steve.
Her body moved before her thoughts caught up. She set the container down carefully, wiped her fingers on the hem of his shirt, and crossed the kitchen in quick, light steps. Her heart picked up speed with every second, excitement rising as she reached the front door.
She didnโt open it. She remembered the rule.
Instead, she hovered just behind it, listening as keys jangled, as the lock turned.
The door opened and Steve stepped inside.
For half a second, relief flooded her, warm and immediate and almost dizzying. He was here. Heโd come back.
Then she saw his face and her breath left her all at once.
His lip was split, dried blood dark against the curve of his mouth. One eye was already swelling, bruises blooming deep and ugly along the side of his face, purpling his cheekbone and jaw. The skin around his nose was red and scraped, like heโd taken a hit and gone down hard.
He looked wrong.
Not broken, but hurt in a way that made something twist painfully low in her stomach.
Steve barely had time to close the door behind him before he noticed her standing there.
โOh-โ he started, then stopped when he saw her expression.
Four didnโt move. Her excitement collapsed in on itself, sinking fast and heavy. Her gaze flicked over him again, cataloging injuries. Blood. Swelling. Impact.
Someone had done this.
Her hands curled slowly into fists at her sides.
Steve shifted his weight, wincing slightly as he did. โHey,โ he said gently, like he wasnโt the one bleeding. โIโm okay. Promise.โ
She didnโt believe him.
Her eyes lifted to his, wide and searching, something raw and unguarded flickering there before she could stop it.
He was supposed to be safe.
The realization landed harder than anything else.
Four felt anger rise sharply and unfamiliar in her chest. She blinked, the moment snapping back into place.
Before Steve could say anything else, she stepped closer, lifting her hand with deliberate care. Her fingers hovered just short of his face, hesitating only a fraction of a second before touching him. Her thumb brushed the split in his lip, her touch barely there.
Steve flinched. The reaction was immediate and instinctive, and she hated it.
โHey-โ he said quickly, trying for a crooked smile that didnโt quite land. โIt looks worse than it feels, I swear. Iโve had-โ
She didnโt let him finish. Her hand dropped to the sleeve of his sweater, fingers curling into the fabric with quiet insistence. She tugged once, not hard, just enough to make her intent clear.
Steve blinked. โUh-โ
She tugged again, already turning toward the stairs.
โOh,โ he said, surprised. โOkay. Alright, yeah- Iโm coming.โ
He followed her, still talking under his breath like he could soften the situation with words alone. โYou really donโt have to- itโs just a couple bruises. Iโve been in worse scraps than-โ
She didnโt slow down.
They climbed the stairs quickly, her grip never leaving his sleeve. When they reached the bathroom, she pushed the door open and guided him inside before he could protest again.
โHey,โ Steve said lightly as she turned to face him, confused but compliant. โWhatโre we-โ
She pressed a hand to his shoulder.
He paused, then sighed, the fight draining out of him. โOkay,โ he muttered, lowering himself onto the closed toilet seat. โOkay. Iโm sitting.โ
Four turned immediately to the sink.
She grabbed a towel from the rack, unfolding it with quick, practiced movements. She twisted the faucet, testing the water once before adjusting it, watching closely as steam began to rise. When it was warm enough, she soaked the corner of the towel and wrung it out, her fingers strong and steady.
Behind her, Steve watched in silence.
She turned back to him, towel in hand, eyes focused now in a way that left no room for argument.
And for the first time since walking through the door, he stopped trying to pretend he didnโt need it.
She worked carefully, dabbing at the dried blood along his cheek first, softening it with warm water before wiping it away. She didnโt press or rush. Her movements were slow and deliberate, the way they always were when something mattered. The towel darkened in small smears of red as she cleaned his skin, inch by inch.
Steve sucked in a quiet breath but didnโt pull away.
She adjusted immediately, easing the pressure without being told. Her focus never wavered.
โYouโveโฆ done this before,โ he said quietly, more observation than question.
She didnโt answer, didnโt look up either. Just kept going, careful around his eye, her thumb steady as she wiped away the last trace of blood beneath it.
Steve huffed out a short, humorless laugh. โYeah. Figures.โ
He stared at the floor for a moment, jaw tightening, then exhaled like heโd been holding something in too long.
โTheyโre not my friends anymore,โ he said suddenly. โTommy and Carol. I mean- they havenโt been for a while, I guess. I just didnโt wanna admit it.โ
Four paused briefly for half a second before resuming.
Steve continued talking.
โThey thought it was funny,โ he went on, voice tightening. โWhat they did. The sign. Like humiliating Nancy was some kind of joke.โ His mouth twisted as he spoke, eyes fixed on nothing. โAnd I just let it happen, like an idiot.โ
His hands clenched loosely in his lap. Four shifted closer, towel still warm against his skin.
He swallowed. โAnd then she showed up, with Jonathan.โ He shook his head, a sharp, frustrated motion. โAnd I said some things. Stupid things. About his family. About his brother.โ
He finally looked up at her then, eyes flicking to her face.
โI deserved it,โ he said, gesturing vaguely toward his bruises. โAll of it. Every hit.โ
She stilled, lowering the towel.
Steveโs shoulders tensed like he was bracing for something. Judgment. Disgust. Distance. He glanced away, already regretting the words spilling out of him.
Heโd said too much.
When he looked back, expecting to find her pulling away, her expression hadnโt changed.
There was no anger there. No disgust. No fear. Just attention.
Her eyes stayed on his face, steady and searching, like she was listening to the way she listened to everything, without interrupting, without deciding what it meant before it was finished.
Steve faltered.
โOh,โ he murmured, unsure.
Four lifted the towel again and went back to cleaning the cut on his lip, gentler than before.
She wiped once more beneath his eye, checking her work with quiet concentration. Then she set the cloth aside and raised her hand, touching his face directly this time. Her fingers brushed his cheekbone, careful around the swelling, her thumb grazing the edge of his jaw like she was memorizing the shape of it.
Steve went very still.
She studied him for a long second longer, eyes flicking between the fading blood and the bruises beneath. When she seemed satisfied, her hand lingered there, warm and steady.
Then she spoke.
โYou didnโt deserve it.โ
The words were soft. Unpracticed. Like they hadnโt been used often.
Steve blinked. โI-โ He shook his head slightly, wincing. โI said some really messed-up stuff. I hurt people.โ
Her fingers tightened just a fraction against his skin, grounding.
โThat doesnโt mean you deserve to be hurt,โ she said.
Steve stared at her, something cracking open behind his eyes before he could stop it. He swallowed hard. โYou donโt even know me.โ
Four didnโt pull her hand away.
โI know,โ she said quietly. โYou brought me inside.โ
The room went still around them.
He let out a shaky breath, laugh catching painfully in his throat. He looked down, scrubbing a hand over his face before she could stop him.
โYeah,โ he said hoarsely. โI guess I did.โ
Her hand stayed where it was. Steve exhaled slowly, eyes dropping to the sink before lifting again.
โI need to go apologize,โ he said. โTo Nancy. To Jonathan. I said things I canโt take back, and I donโt want to pretend they didnโt happen.โ His jaw tightened. โI justโฆ need to do it.โ
The words came out before she could second-guess them.
Steve blinked. โYou- no, hey. You donโt have to do that.โ
โI want to,โ she said.
He ran a hand through his hair, already shaking his head. โItโs late.โ He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. โYouโd be safer here.โ
Four shook her head.
โIโll go with you.โ
โFour,โ he said gently, โI wonโt be long. I donโt want you uncomfortable.โ
Her fingers curled into the sleeve of his jacket, grounding, intentional.
โYouโre not leaving me,โ she said. Not a question. A statement.
Steve let out a sigh.
โOkay.โ He said quietly. โBut if anything feels wrong, we turn around. Immediately.โ
She nodded.
He let out a slow breath, something between resignation and relief. โOkay,โ he said finally. โOkay. You can come.โ
She stepped closer, settling at his side without hesitation.
Steve straightened and grabbed his keys from his pocket. โWeโll be quick,โ he promised. โThen we come straight back.โ
Four followed him out of the bathroom and toward the door.
The drive was quiet.
Four watched the road through the windshield, the world passing in dark shapes and flickers of light. Trees blurred together, houses thinned out until there were long stretches of nothing at all. Steve drove with both hands on the wheel, jaw set, eyes forward, like he was bracing himself for something.
Eventually, the car slowed.
Gravel crunched beneath the tires as Steve turned down a narrow drive, the headlights cutting across a small, isolated house tucked back from the road. It looked different from his. Smaller. Older. Surrounded by trees that pressed in close, shadows crowding the edges of the yard.
The car came to a stop. Steve shut off the engine.
For a moment, neither of them moved. The sudden quiet felt loud after the hum of the road.
Steve exhaled slowly and turned toward her.
โOkay,โ he said. โThis is it.โ
Four followed his gaze to the house. One light glowed faintly inside.
Steve hesitated, then reached out, resting his hand briefly on the steering wheel again like he needed something solid to anchor himself.
โIโm gonna go talk to him,โ he said carefully. โI wonโt be long.โ
Four looked back at him.
โStay here,โ he added gently. โIn the car. Iโll be right back, okay?โ
He searched her face as he said it, eyes flicking over her expression like he was checking for fear, for protest, or for something he might have missed.
โItโs safer,โ he finished quietly.
The word hung between them. Fourโs fingers curled slowly into the fabric of her borrowed shirt. She glanced once more at the house, then back at Steve.
She nodded.
Steve let out a breath he hadnโt realized he was holding. โGood,โ he said softly. โGood.โ
He reached for the door handle, then paused.
โIโll be right back,โ he repeated, slower this time, like a promise he wanted to make sure she understood.
Then he opened the door and stepped out into the night, the cool air rushing in for just a second before the door shut again.
Four leaned back into the seat as soon as it closed behind him, shoulders curling inward. She watched through the windshield as he crossed the yard, his figure shrinking the farther he got from the car. When he reached the front porch, she slid down just a little, sinking lower in the seat.
He raised his hand and knocked.
The sound was dull through the glass. Muffled. Still sharp enough to make her flinch.
She watched the door stay closed. Watched him knock again, harder this time. His shoulders were tense, posture tight like he was holding something back.
The door cracked open. Only a sliver.
Four couldnโt hear what was being said. The words didnโt reach her. All she could see was Steve leaning closer, his head dipping as if he were trying to make himself understood. The door started to close.
Steveโs hand shot out, stopping it.
Her fingers curled tightly into the seat beneath her.
The door opened wider and Steve stepped forward, forcing his way inside before it could shut him out. The porch light flickered as he disappeared from view, swallowed by the house.
She stared at the front door, then folded further in her seat, instinctively shrinking down, hands curling into the hem of his jacket. The house loomed larger from here.
Then the lights flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Her breath caught.
The porch light stuttered, cutting out and snapping back on. The windows glowed and dimmed in uneven pulses, like the house itself was struggling to stay awake.
Fourโs skin prickled. Goosebumps raced up her arms. She sat up straighter.
The flickering sped up. Erratic now. Wrong.
A gunshot cracked through the night. Four flinched hard, hands flying up instinctively.
Another shot followed almost immediately.
Her heart slammed against her ribs, breath coming fast and shallow. She stared at the house, frozen, every muscle locked in place.
Then she heard it.
The screech.
High and piercing and unmistakable.
The sound tore through her like a blade, slicing straight through the days sheโd spent running. The woods crashed back into her all at once. The cold. The darkness. The way it had chased her, hunted her, never stopping.
Her vision tunneled.
No.
No, no, no-
Her fingers clenched around the car door, nails digging into the metal as she tried to ground herself. The present blurred. The sound filled her head until there was nothing else.
She didnโt notice when the lights stopped flickering. She didnโt notice the sudden silence.
She only noticed movement.
The front door flew open.
Steve burst out of the house, breath ragged, eyes wild as he scanned the yard.
Four straightened instantly.
Relief crashed into her so hard it almost knocked her off balance. She stumbled out of the car without thinking, feet hitting the gravel as she took a step toward him.
โSteve-โ
He saw her.
The color drained from his face.
โFour!โ he shouted, panic sharp in his voice as he rushed toward her. โWhat are you doing? Get back in the car- now!โ
She froze halfway between him and the car, heart pounding.
โSteve?โ Her voice came out thin, shaken. โWhat happened?โ
He reached her in two strides, hands grabbing her forearms like he needed to make sure she was real. His grip was firm, grounding, but his hands were shaking too.
โI told you to stay in the car,โ he said, breathless. โI told you-โ
โThe sound,โ she said quickly, eyes flicking to the house behind him. โI heard it. It was- it was the same-โ
The lights flickered again.
Hard.
Steveโs head snapped toward the house.
โShit,โ he breathed.
The porch light surged, then dimmed. The windows pulsed unevenly, shadows moving where they shouldnโt.
Steveโs grip loosened.
โNo,โ Four said immediately, fear sharp and clear now. Her fingers curled into his sweater. โStay. Please.โ
He looked back at her, torn. For a split second, she saw the decision forming in his eyes. The same one sheโd seen earlier.
โI canโt,โ he said quietly. โTheyโre still inside.โ
Another distant crash echoed from within the house.
Steve swallowed hard and pulled his hands free, already backing away.
โGet in the car,โ he said firmly. โLock the doors. Donโt move. Iโll be right back.โ
โSteve-!โ
He turned and ran.
Four stood there for half a second, chest heaving, watching him disappear back into the house. The gunshots echoed again. The screech tore through the air once more.
Her hands curled into fists.
She couldnโt breathe. She couldnโt stay. Taking a shaky breath, she chased after him.
Steve didnโt think.
He moved.
The bat connected with a wet, bone-rattling crack.
Steve barely had time to register the impact before he was already swinging again, breath ragged, arms burning as he put everything he had into each strike. The monster reeled back, screeching loud enough to rattle the walls, its claws scraping against the floor as it staggered.
He swung again. Too wide.
The bat clipped its shoulder instead of its head, the momentum carrying him half a step too far forward. His foot slid on the floor, heart dropping into his stomach as he realized, too late, that heโd left himself open.
The monster recovered instantly.
It lunged.
Time slowed to something thick and awful. Steve saw the arc of its arm coming down, claws spread wide, mouth opening as it screamed straight in his face. He raised the bat instinctively, but he knew it wouldnโt be enough. He was off-balance.
But the impact never came.
Instead, there was a sound, not flesh or bone. A sharp, concussive crack, like something invisible had slammed into the monster mid-swing.
The creature was thrown sideways, skidding across the floor with a shriek of rage and pain.
Steve staggered back, stunned, chest heaving.
โWhat-โ
He turned.
Four stood in the doorway. She hadnโt come all the way inside. She hovered just past the threshold, feet planted, body rigid with concentration. One arm was outstretched toward the monster, fingers curled slightly like she was gripping something no one else could see.
Blood trailed from her nose in a thin, dark line, dripping onto her upper lip.
Steveโs heart slammed into his ribs.
โFour-โ he breathed.
Her eyes flicked to him for half a second. Just long enough to make sure he was still standing.
Then the monster roared. Its face split open, skin peeling back as its jaws expanded impossibly wide. The sound filled the hallway, vibrating through Steveโs bones.
It tried to lunge again, but couldnโt.
Something held it back, like it had hit a wall it didnโt understand. The air around it warped, the creature screeching as it fought against whatever force was pinning it in place.
Steve didnโt think.
He moved.
He swung the bat again, harder this time, adrenaline flooding his system as he drove the monster back step by step. Each strike forced it toward the hallway, away from Four, away from everyone.
The bear trap snapped shut with a deafening snap.
The monster shrieked, collapsing as the jaws crushed down on its leg, bone shattering beneath the force.
โJonathan! NOW!โ Nancy yelled. Steve barely had time to register it before flames erupted down the hallway, fire racing toward the creature as Jonathan hurled the lit Zippo at the gasoline.
The monster screamed again. Louder. Higher.
Steve stumbled back, coughing as smoke filled the air. Through it all, he felt a sudden weight against his arm.
Four had moved without him noticing, her fingers wrapped tight around his forearm, grip trembling but unyielding. Her face was pale, blood smeared beneath her nose now, but her eyes stayed locked on the burning monster.
The flames roared, then died down under the spray of the fire extinguisher. Smoke choked the hallway, white residue coating everything in sight.
Steve stood there, bat hanging loose in his hand, chest heaving as his brain struggled to catch up with what had just happened.
He looked down.
Four was still holding onto him.
Her knees shook. Her grip tightened once, like she was grounding herself through him now instead of the other way around.
Steve covered her hand with his free one.
Nancy's voice cut through the haze, thin and shaken. โโฆWhere is it?โ
Jonathan spoke quietly, almost to himself. โIt has to be dead. It has to beโฆโ
Steve moved first, toward the hallway.
The four of them edged closer to the bear trap, steps slow and careful, like whatever remained of the thing might still be there with them. Smoke lingered in the air, acrid and sharp, stinging his lungs with every breath. The trap sat where it had fallen, jaws clenched tight around nothing but charred remains. Blackened flesh. The smell of burned rot.
But no monster.
Steve tightened his grip on the bat, heart hammering.
Then the lights flickered, not erratically but steadily. They pulsed once, then again, in a slow rhythm.
Steveโs head snapped up.
The glow moved through the house, traveling like something alive beneath the walls. It passed through the living room first, lights blinking in sequence, then slid into the kitchen, the fixtures humming faintly as it went.
Jonathan sucked in a sharp breath. Nancy raised her gun. Steve didnโt lower his bat. Fourโs grasp tightened around Steve's arm.
The lights illuminated the hallway, moving steadily without rushing. They followed.
They passed them entirely, drifting back into the living room, the glow settling there, lingering like it was deciding where to go next.
โโฆWhere is it goingโฆ?โ Nancy whispered.
Jonathan swallowed. โโฆI donโt know.โ
Then he froze.
Steve saw it happen. Jonathanโs posture locked, shoulders going rigid as if something had reached out and grabbed him from the inside.
โโฆMom?โ Jonathan said.
The word landed heavily in the air.
Steve didnโt ask questions. He just moved when they did.
They stepped out onto the front porch together, the cold night air cutting through the smoke-clogged heat of the house. Steve barely felt it. His eyes were already searching the dark.
Then he saw it.
A hundred yards away, the yard lamp flickered.
Once. Twice.
Nancyโs voice shook. โWhereโs it going?โ
Jonathan stared at the light, chest rising and falling too fast. โI donโt think thatโs the monster.โ
Nancy turned to him. โYou thinkโฆ?โ
Jonathan nodded.
Nancy didnโt answer. She just kept staring, like her brain hadnโt caught up yet.
Steve felt it then. The shift.
Fourโs grip on his arm loosened. Not all at once. Slowly. Like her strength was draining out of her without warning. Her breath hitched, shallow and uneven.
โHey-โ Steve started, turning toward her.
The bat slipped from his hand and hit the porch with a dull clatter as Fourโs knees buckled.
Steve caught her before she hit the ground.
Her body went slack in his arms, head tipping back, eyes already closed. Blood streaked beneath her nose, darker now, smeared across her skin. She was breathing, shallow but steady, but she didnโt stir.
โFour,โ he breathed, panic flaring sharp and immediate.
No response.
Steve didnโt hesitate.
He scooped her up, cradling her against his chest, her weight real and frighteningly still in his arms. He turned back toward the house without a word, carrying her inside, away from the porch, away from the lights, away from everything that had taken too much from her already.
His heart was still racing.
Steve didnโt stop moving until he reached the couch.
He lowered Four onto it carefully, like one wrong angle might break something else he couldnโt see. Her head lolled against the armrest, dark hair sticking to her cheek where the blood had dried. For half a second, his hands hovered uselessly over her, unsure where to touch, afraid to touch at all.
She wasnโt waking up.
Steve swallowed hard and leaned in, pressing two fingers gently to the side of her neck.
One beat.
Then another.
Fast. Too fast. But there.
โOkay,โ he murmured under his breath, voice barely sounding at all. โOkay, youโre breathing. Youโre okay.โ
He wasnโt convinced. He shifted closer, crouching in front of the couch, watching her chest rise and fall like it might stop if he looked away. His own breath had gone shallow, sharp little pulls of air that didnโt feel like enough.
Her nose had stopped bleeding. Just a dark line trailing down toward her lip.
Steve grabbed the sleeve of his sweater and wiped it away carefully, gentler than heโd ever been with anything. She didnโt react, didn't flinch or stir.
Panic pressed in, cold and tight.
โHey,โ he whispered, brushing her hair back from her face. โCโmon. You gotta stay with me, alright?โ
Nothing.
Behind him, the house creaked softly as someone moved.
Steve didnโt register it. He was too busy counting breaths.
โSteveโฆ?โ
Nancyโs voice cut through the room, hesitant, not loud. Careful, like she was afraid of spooking something.
Steve jerked his head up, heart slamming. He hadnโt even noticed them come back inside.
Jonathan stood just behind her, eyes fixed on the girl unconscious on his couch. His expression tightened immediately, thoughts racing faster than his mouth.
โWhere did you find her?โ he asked. Then, sharper, โHow long has she been with you?โ
Steveโs jaw clenched.
โBack off,โ he snapped without thinking, already rising to his feet like his body knew to put itself between them and her. โSheโs not- sheโs not some thing.โ
Jonathan held his ground. โI didnโt mean-โ
โI found her last night,โ Steve cut in. His voice was tight now, defensive. โIn the woods. She needed help.โ
Nancyโs eyes flicked to him. โLast nightโฆ?โ
Steve hesitated, just a fraction of a second.
โโฆAfter I left your place,โ he said. Then, without meaning to, without caring enough to stop himself, he added, โFunny timing, actually. I remember you saying you were busy. Family stuff.โ
Jonathan stiffened.
Silence stretched.
Then Steve exhaled hard and shook his head, the edge draining out of him all at once. โDoesnโt matter,โ he muttered. โNone of that matters.โ
He turned back to Four, dropping to his knees beside the couch again. His hand hovered near her arm, then settled there, light but grounding.
Nancy hadnโt stopped looking at her, not at Steve or at Jonathan. Just at Four.
The blood. The way something about it all felt uncomfortably familiar.
โโฆSheโs like Eleven,โ Nancy said softly.
The words werenโt meant for Steve. They were for Jonathan. A realization spoken out loud before she could stop herself.
Steve froze.
โโฆWhat?โ he asked.
Nancy looked at him then, really looked, like she was weighing something dangerous. โThe way she stopped it,โ she said. โThe bleeding.โ
Jonathan swallowed. โNancy-โ
Steve stared between them, his mind scrambling to catch up. โWhat do you mean, like Eleven?โ
Neither of them answered right away.
โNance,โ Steve pressed, his voice tighter now. โWhat do you mean like Eleven?โ
Nancy let out a slow breath, the kind that felt like it had been sitting in her chest for too long. She looked down at the floor for a moment, gathering herself, before lifting her eyes back to Steve.
โThereโsโฆ another girl,โ she said carefully. โJust like her. Younger. Buzzed hair. A number on her wrist.โ Nancy hesitated, then forced the name out. โEleven.โ
Jonathan started pacing before he could stop himself, sneakers scuffing softly against the floor. โIf sheโs like Eleven,โ he said, voice tight, โthen sheโs in danger.โ
Steve felt something clamp down hard in his chest. โDanger?โ he repeated. โWhat kind of danger?โ
Jonathan stopped moving. โThe kind that doesnโt stop,โ he said. โThe kind that will stop at nothing to get her back.โ
โJonathan-โ Nancy started again, but she was already looking at Steve, already seeing the way his jaw had set, the way his hands had curled into fists at his sides.
โThese people,โ Nancy said quietly, โtheyโve done horrible things trying to get Eleven. Hunts.โ Her voice dropped. โThey wonโt justโฆ let her go.โ
Steve didnโt answer right away.
His eyes went back to Four.
She was still unconscious on the couch, lashes dark against her cheeks, breathing shallow but steady. Smaller than she should have been. Too still.
โThen they wonโt find her,โ Steve said.
The words came out low. Certain.
Before either of them could react, he moved.
Steve bent down and scooped her up into his arms, holding her close to his chest like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like letting go wasnโt an option heโd even considered.
โSteve-โ Nancy started.
โShe wasnโt here,โ Steve said, turning to face them, his voice steady despite the way his heart was hammering. โYou didnโt see her. No one did.โ
Jonathan stared at him.
โShe doesnโt exist,โ Steve went on. โNot in this house. Not tonight. Not ever.โ
He tightened his hold on her just slightly, protective without realizing it.
โSheโs safe,โ he said. โIโll make sure of it.โ
When Steve Harrington stops for what he thinks is nothing more than a trick of the dark, he doesnโt expect to find a girl collapsing into his arms in the middle of the road.
AN: Thank you guys for the likes! Made this chapter a bit longer than the first too so hope you guys like it. I've reread this entire ch like 5x so if you see any mistakes. No you didn't lol. Enjoy!
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Steve slept on the floor.
Heโd dragged a pillow and a blanket out of the hall closet and laid them down beside the bed, close enough that he could hear her breathe if he listened for it. It wasnโt comfortable. The carpet pressed rough against his shoulder, and every time he shifted, the floor creaked softly beneath him. But it felt right. Close enough, without being intrusive.
Sleep came in fragments. He drifted in and out of it, waking every so often with the same tight pull in his chest, the same instinctive need to listen. Each time, he stayed still, eyes closed, counting breaths until he was sure she was still there.
Sometime in the night, the mattress shifted. Steve didnโt wake.
Bare feet touched the carpet quietly. She moved slowly, carefully, like the room itself might react if she went too fast. The bed felt wrong, the space beside her too empty, too open. She paused at the edge, looking down at him for a long moment.
Then she lowered herself to the floor. At first, she stayed just close enough to feel the warmth from his body, her back pressed lightly to his side. When he didnโt stir, she shifted again, inching closer until her shoulder brushed his arm. One hand curled into the edge of his blanket, fingers tightening like it was something she could anchor herself to.
Steve shifted once in his sleep, a quiet sound slipping from him as he turned slightly toward the warmth.
Neither of them moved after that.
Morning came in thin, pale light through the blinds. Steve woke with a dull ache in his neck and the familiar weight of exhaustion settling into his bones. For a second, he stayed still, blinking against the light, until he felt it.
Warmth at his side. He froze. Slowly, carefully, he looked down.
She was curled beside him on the floor, knees drawn in, breathing shallow but steady. His blanket was half-wrapped around her, her hand still clenched in the fabric like sheโd decided sometime in the night that it wasnโt letting go.
Steve sat right where he was, heart thudding quietly in his chest, and let the morning catch up to him.
He moved slowly, easing himself upright inch by inch, every muscle protesting the effort. His joints popped quietly as he rose to a crouch, wincing and pausing whenever she shifted. After a moment, he reached down, carefully sliding one arm under her shoulder, the other under her knees, pulling her to rest against his chest. He lifted her with ease, pausing when she stirred, a small sound leaving her as her brows furrowed.
Steve held still, his heart pounding until her breathing evened out again.
โItโs okay,โ he murmured under his breath, not sure if she could hear him or not.
He straightened slowly and carried her the short distance to the bed, lowering her onto the mattress with more care than heโd ever given anything. He eased the blanket around her, tucking it back over her shoulders before stepping away.
Just as he turned to walk away-
Her hand shot out. It closed around his wrist, fingers weak yet certain. Steve froze. Her eyes fluttered open, unfocused and heavy with sleep, confusion knitting her brows as she stared up at him. She didnโt speak, didnโt sit up. She just held on, grip tightening slightly.
โIโm still here,โ Steve said quietly, instinctively lowering himself back down so he wasnโt towering over her. โI was justโฆ moving you. You were on the floor.โ
She watched him for a long second, processing. Her grip loosened slightly while not letting go.
Steve waited a moment longer, then shifted slightly.
โYou donโt look like youโre gonna fall back asleep,โ he said softly, not quite a question.
She didnโt argue, and didnโt nod either. Just watched him, eyes too alert for someone who just woke up.
Steve glanced at the window, where morning light was starting to fill the room properly now, stripping away the softness of the night. When he looked back at her, his gaze fixed on her hair.
The rain the night before had dried unevenly, leaving dark strands tangled and matted together, curling in strange directions where it clung too long. It framed her face messily, caught at her neck and shoulders, like she hadn't touched it since he pulled her out of the rain.
Steve cleared his throat.
โOkay,โ he said gently. โHow about we get you up for a bit?โ
She hesitated, grip tightening just a fraction before loosening. Slowly, she pushed herself upright, wincing when the movement made her sway. Steveโs hands hovered over her, ready, not touching her unless she tipped too far.
โEasy,โ he murmured. โIโve got you if you need it.โ
Once she was sitting, he hesitated again, vaguely motioning towards the door. โListen, why donโt you take a shower,โ he said, words tumbling out awkwardly. โYou can use my stuff, and Iโll cook us some breakfast, if thatโs ok.โ
She looked at him, then past him toward the door. It took a moment before she slowly nodded, her hand slipping free of his wrist.
Steve nodded, taking the agreement like a small victory. โOkay. Yeah. Good.โ
He stood up, crossed to his dresser, and pulled out a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. When he turned around, she was right behind him.
โJesus-!โ Steve jumped, clutching the clothes to his chest as his heart slammed against his ribs. โYou- wow. You really gotta stop doing that.โ
She stared at him, unbothered, like she hadnโt done anything at all.
Steve exhaled, shaking his head as he motioned for her to follow him.
โCโmon,โ he said quietly. โBathroom is this way.โ
He led her down the hall, keeping his pace slow so she wouldnโt have to rush. When they reached the bathroom, he pushed open the door and stepped aside, letting her enter first. The light flickered on, bright but warm.
Steve set the clothes down onto the counter. โYou can.. uh.. put these on after,โ he said gesturing towards the t-shirt and sweatpants. โTheyโre clean. Justโฆ big.โ
She hovered near the doorway, eyes scanning the room.
โOkay,โ He cleared his throat, turning toward the shower, keeping his movements slow and obvious. โSo. This knob-โ He twisted the handle partway, the pipes groaning in protest before water sputtered to life. โThatโs hot. This oneโs cold. You kinda gotta balance it or itโll either freeze you or burn you.โ
He adjusted it carefully until the water evened out, testing it with his hand before nodding to himself. โGive it a second. It takes a minute.โ
Then he reached for the bottles lined up along the edge of the tub. โThis oneโs shampoo,โ he said, holding it up. โFor your hair. Just-โ He hesitated, scrubbing a hand through his own hair as demonstration. โWork it in, then rinse it out. And this oneโs conditioner. You do that after. Let it sit for a bit before you rinse.โ
He set both bottles back down within easy reach, then took a step back.
โYou can lock the door if you want,โ he added quickly. โIโll be downstairs. Just..โ He paused, choosing his words carefully. โTake your time.โ
Steve turned toward the door, stopping just long enough to glance back at her. โYell if you need anything. Iโll hear you.โ
He left the bathroom door mostly closed behind him, the sound of running water filling the space as he retreated down the hall.
The door clicked softly behind him.ย
Four stood still for a moment, listening. Footsteps faded down the hall, as the sound of running water filled the bathroom.ย
She turned toward the shower. The mirror caught her attention for half a second before she looked away, pulse jumping hard.ย
She slowly peeled off her clothes that stuck to her skin before letting them fall on the bathroom floor. Her fingers hesitated briefly at the hem of his jacket before she shrugged it off too, folding it once before setting it aside.
She reached for the edge of the tub and stepped in, flinching when the tile felt colder than she expected. The water was already warm when she pulled the curtain closed, steam filled the small room quickly. She hesitated, hand hovering under the spray then pushed forward.ย
The water hit her shoulder all at once as she sucked in a sharp breath, the water spreading warmth.ย
She stood there longer than she meant to. When she finally lifted her hands to her hair, her fingers snagged immediately, tangled in knots she hadnโt realized were there. She winced, working slowly, and carefully to work the knots out of her hair. The shampoo burned her scalp slightly as she worked it in, the scent unfamiliar but not unpleasant. She rinsed it out, watching dark water spiral toward the drain.ย
Her breathing slowed. The conditioner felt strange, slick and heavy between her fingers, but made the knots loosen more easily. She leaned her forehead briefly against the tile, eyes closed, letting the water run down her back.ย
The tension in her muscles relaxed, her shoulders lowered, and jaw unclenched. Her hands stopped shaking. The tight, constant readiness that lived under her skin loosened just enough to make room for something else, something unfamiliar.
Safe.ย
The feeling startled her. She straightened immediately, shutting the water off.ย
Four grabbed the towel from the counter and wrapped it around herself, hands shaking now that the warmth was gone. She dressed quickly in the clothes heโd left her, the fabric swallowing her whole. The shirt brushed her thighs and the waistband of the sweatpants had to be folded over twice.ย
She didnโt mind.ย
When she cracked the door open again, the house smelled different.ย
Food.ย
She stood there for a moment longer, fingers curling into the hem of the shirt, listening for him before stepping out.ย
The hallway was quiet. Four moved slowly, barefoot steps careful against the carpet as she followed the smell down the stairs. The house felt different now, brighter. Light spilled in from the kitchen ahead as she paused at the edge of it, half-hidden by the doorway.
Steve stood at the stove with his back to her, shoulders tense even as he moved through the kitchen. A pan sizzled softly, the smell of eggs and butter hanging thick in the air. He looked different in the daylight. Less sharp, softer around the edges. His hair stuck up in places like heโd run his hands through it too many times, and the sleeves of his shirt were pushed up, forearms dusted with faint freckles she hadnโt noticed before.
She watched the way he moved. Careful and attentive, like he was listening for something even while he cooked. He cracked an egg open one-handed, frowned when a shell slipped in, then fished it out with a muttered curse she didnโt understand.
Four stayed still, studying him the way she always studied things.
Eventually, she stepped forward. One slow step, then another. Drawn by the warmth of the room, by the sound of him, and by the simple fact that he was there. She stopped beside him, close enough that she could feel the heat from the stove and the steady presence at her side.
Steve turned and nearly jumped out of his skin.
โJesus-!โ He jerked back, his free hand flying to his chest as the spatula clattered against the pan. โHow do you- you really gotta stop doing that.โ
Four blinked, startled by his reaction, then tilted her head slightly. She hadnโt meant to scare him. She justโฆ hadnโt known when she was supposed to announce herself.
Steve dragged a hand down his face and let out a breath. โSorry,โ he said automatically, glancing at her like he was checking she hadnโt vanished again. His gaze flicked over her hair, damp but cleaner now, and the clothes hanging off her frame. Something in his expression softened.
โUh,โ he added, gesturing vaguely with the spatula. โMorning.โ
She stood there, quiet, the smell of the food curling in her chest in a way she didnโt have a word for yet.
โM-morning,โ she muttered back, barely above a whisper.
It was barely a word, barely sound at all, but it landed anyway. His shoulders eased, just a little, like something tight in him had loosened.
โYeah,โ he said quickly, too quickly. โMorning.โ
He cleared his throat and gestured toward the small dining table tucked near the kitchen window. โYou can.. uh. You can sit there, if you want. Iโm almost done.โ
Four hesitated, eyes flicking between him and the table. After a moment, she moved, pulling out a chair slowly before sitting on the edge of it, posture stiff, hands folded loosely in her lap like she wasnโt sure what to do with them yet.
Steve turned back to the stove, finishing up quickly now that she was watching. The pan hissed once more before he shut off the burner. He moved around the kitchen with quiet efficiency, scraping scrambled eggs onto a plate, adding two pieces of toast beside them before carrying it over.
He set the plate down in front of her carefully.
โOkay,โ he said. โItโs nothing fancy. Eggs and toast.โ
Four stared at it. The food was warm, steam curled faintly into the air, carrying a smell that made something twist low in her stomach. She didnโt reach for it right away. Just watched it, eyes tracking the fork where it rested against the plate.
Steve noticed. He didnโt say anything, just took his own plate and sat across from her, picking up his fork and taking a bite.
Only then did she move. She copied him exactly, fingers closing around the fork with tentative precision. She lifted a small bite, hesitated, then ate it. The taste hit her all at once, rich and simple. She swallowed quickly, then took another bite, slightly bigger this time.
Steve pretended not to notice the way her shoulders eased.
He stood a moment later and crossed back into the kitchen. โIโm gonna make coffee,โ he said casually. โJustโฆ let me know if you want more toast or something.โ
Four nodded faintly, attention drifting as he moved. She watched him fill the kettle, listened to the low gurgle of water heating, and then the smell changed.
Bitter and dark and warm all at once, curling through the kitchen in thick waves. Her nose wrinkled slightly as she followed it with her eyes, gaze locking onto the mug in his hand as he poured.
She stared.
Steve caught the look immediately. โYou want to try some?โ he asked, already reaching for another mug.
She hesitated, then nodded.
He poured a little, slid it across the table toward her. โCareful,โ he said. โItโs hot.โ
She lifted it cautiously, brought it to her lips, and took the smallest sip.
Her face betrayed her instantly. Her nose scrunched. Her mouth twisted. She swallowed like she regretted every decision that had led her here.
Steve bit back a laugh. โYeah,โ he said, grinning now. โThatโs fair. I like mine black.โ
She stared at the mug again, then pushed it back toward him slowly, like it might bite.
He chuckled softly, taking it back. โNot your thing,โ he said. โThatโs okay.โ
Four went back to her eggs, quieter now but steadier, and Steve leaned against the counter with his coffee, watching her eat like it was the most important thing heโd do all day.
For the first time since sheโd appeared in his life, the kitchen feltโฆ normal.
And somehow, that felt like the biggest victory yet.
Steve watched her take another bite, then another. When the plate was half-empty, he moved again, quiet as before.
โHang on,โ he said, already heading back toward the counter. โIโve got something better.โ
He opened the fridge, scanning its contents before pulling out a small bottle of apple juice. He hesitated, then grabbed a jar of jelly from the cabinet too, setting both down on the table in front of her.
โHere,โ he said, twisting the lid off the juice and sliding it closer. โThis might be more your speed.โ
Four stared at it for a moment, then wrapped both hands around the bottle and took a cautious sip.
Her eyes widened just a little. It was cold and sweet and sharp in a way that made her mouth water. She drank again, slower this time, like she was afraid it might disappear if she rushed it.
Steve smiled, just barely.
He reached for the jelly and popped the lid, scooping a little onto the edge of his toast. โYou can put it on if you want,โ he said. โOr not. Totally optional.โ
She watched him spread it once, memorizing the motion, then nodded. When he moved his hand away, she copied him, fingers clumsy but determined. She took a bite.
Sweet.
She hummed quietly without meaning to.
Steveโs fork paused halfway to his mouth. He looked down at his plate quickly, the corner of his mouth lifting as he forced himself to keep eating like nothing had happened.
The sound shattered the quiet.
The phone rang loud and sudden, a sharp, jarring noise that tore through the room. Four flinched hard, chair scraping faintly against the floor as she jolted to her feet on instinct, heart slamming as her body screamed run.
Her breath hitched, then, a hand caught hers.
Steve didnโt grab, didnโt pull. His fingers slipped into hers like it was the most natural thing in the world, warm and solid. He didnโt look at her right away, just squeezed once, firm and steady.
โItโs okay,โ he said quietly. โJust the phone.โ
The ringing kept going, insistent.
Steve let go reluctantly and crossed the kitchen in a few quick steps, lifting the phone from the wall before it could ring again. Four stayed where she was, fingers still tingling where heโd touched her, chest rising and falling too fast as she watched him.
He turned slightly away as he spoke, voice low. Too low for her to hear the other side.
โYeah,โ he said. โYeah, Iโm up.โ
He glanced at her then, just for a second.
His eyes met hers, something unreadable passing through them before he looked away again, shoulders tightening as he turned his attention back to the call.
โLook, I canโt right now,โ he murmured. โNo, no, itโs not that.โ
Four tilted her head, trying to make sense of the conversation. His voice stayed calm, controlled, like he was trying not to let something slip.
He looked over at her again. Then, louder this time, clear enough that she caught it.
โNo, no,โ Steve said. โIโll pick you guys up here in a little bit.โ
The words landed heavily. Fourโs fingers curled into the hem of his shirt without her realizing sheโd moved closer again. The kitchen felt smaller now.
Steve hung up the phone slowly. For a moment, he just stood there with his hand still resting on the phone, like he was bracing himself for something. Then he turned back toward her and didnโt say anything at first.
Steveโs eyes flicked down, following the line of her arm to where her fingers were curled into the hem of his shirt. She hadnโt meant to grab him, hadnโt even noticed sheโd moved until she felt the fabric bunched tight in her fist.
Her grip loosened instinctively, fingers starting to slip away like sheโd crossed a line she didnโt understand.
Steve noticed immediately.
โHey,โ he said softly, stepping closer instead of back. He didnโt pull away, didnโt tell her to let go. โItโs okay.โ
The idea of him leaving sat heavy, a feeling she couldnโt explain. Only knew that the room felt colder already, like the warmth had a time limit she hadnโt been warned about.
Her fingers tightened again before she could stop herself.
Steve inhaled slowly, then nodded once, like he was making a decision.
โI gotta go out for a bit,โ he said carefully. โJust for a little while. Iโll be back. Okay?โ
Her head shook before she could think better of it.
Steveโs jaw tightened. โI know,โ he said quietly. โI know you donโt like that.โ
He glanced toward the front door, then back at her. โBut Iโm not leaving you alone forever. I promise.โ He hesitated, then added, โIโll lock the door. Youโll be safe here.โ
Safe.
The word didnโt land the way he meant it to.
Her grip slid higher, fist closing around his shirt like she could anchor him there if she held tight enough. Her breathing went shallow again, eyes flicking past him toward the hallway, the stairs, anywhere that wasnโt the door.
Steve gently covered her hand with his own.
He didnโt pry her fingers loose.
โIโm coming back,โ he said, firmer now. โI wouldnโt lie about that.โ
He stayed there, letting her hold on for another second longer, until the tension in her shoulders eased just a fraction.
Then, carefully, he loosened her grip himself.
Steve didnโt rush her. He let her release his shirt on her own before turning back to the kitchen, moving through the familiar motions of cleaning up like it gave him something to hold onto. He scraped plates into the sink, wiped down the counter where heโd cooked, washed the pan and set it aside. Nothing hurried, just small, ordinary sounds filling the space again.
She stayed close. Not touching this time, but never more than a step behind him as he moved through the kitchen. When he headed for the stairs, she followed without hesitation, bare feet quiet against the carpet as they climbed.
His room felt smaller in the daylight.
She paused in the doorway before stepping inside, eyes flicking over the space like she was studied it the way she studied everything. The bed drew her attention almost immediately.
She sat on the edge of it, hands folding loosely in her lap, shoulders drawn in as she watched him move.
Steve crossed to his dresser and pulled out a clean shirt, then stopped.
He glanced back at her, took a breath, and leaned against the dresser instead of changing right away.
โOkay,โ he said gently. โI need to tell you a couple things before I go.โ Steve held up a finger. โJust rules. Simple ones.โ
He waited until she nodded before continuing.
โFirst,โ he said, calm but firm. โDonโt open the door for anyone. Doesnโt matter who they say they are.โ
He lifted a second finger. โSecond. Donโt leave the house. Not for anything. Iโll be back before you know it.โ
Her fingers curled slightly into the comforter.
โAnd third,โ he added, lifting a third finger. โKeep the blinds closed. All of them.โ
She tilted her head, processing, before slowly nodding once.
Steve watched her for a second longer, searching her face like he was checking something invisible. When he seemed satisfied, he let out a breath and reached for the clean shirt again.
โIโll lock the door when I leave,โ he said. He hesitated, then added more softly, โYou can stay here. My room. Or the living room. Wherever you feelโฆ better.โ
She didnโt answer, she shifted slightly on the bed instead, staying right where she was.
Steve nodded, taking that as an answer too. He glanced at the clock once more before moving toward the door.
โIโm just gonna change,โ he said, already stepping into the hall. โIโll be right back.โ
She stayed where she was, sitting on the edge of the bed, and watched the doorway like it might disappear if she looked away. The sounds of him moving in the bathroom filtered through the wall, a drawer opening and closing, the quiet sound of the sink running.
She didnโt move.
When he came back a few minutes later, dressed and already reaching for his keys, her eyes lifted immediately.
โOkay,โ he said gently. โIโm heading out. Just for a bit.โ
He crossed the room and stopped in front of her. โIโll be back,โ he said again, slower this time. โI promise.โ
Four nodded once.
He hesitated, then added, โYouโll be alright, yeah?โ
Another nod.
Steve lingered like he wanted to say something else, then seemed to think better of it. He gave her a small, reassuring smile before turning toward the door.
Four followed him into the hallway.
He paused at the front door long enough to unlock it, the click loud in the quiet house. Then he opened it and stepped outside, cool morning air rushing in for just a second before the door shut again.
Instead of going to the room right away, she moved toward the front window, careful to stay behind the blinds. Her eyes followed Steve as he crossed the driveway and climbed into his car. The engine coming to life, the sound familiar.
The car pulled away.
She stayed until it disappeared down the road, until the sound faded completely and the street returned to stillness.
Only then did she move, turned and walked back upstairs, retracing her steps until she reached his room again. She shut the door behind her softly and sat down on the bed, hands folding in her lap.
When Steve Harrington stops for what he thinks is nothing more than a trick of the dark, he doesnโt expect to find a girl collapsing into his arms in the middle of the road.
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Steve knew this was a bad idea. One of his worst ones to date. He shouldโve taken her to the hospital. Or the police station. Anywhere sensible. Anywhere that didnโt involve dragging an unconscious stranger out of the rain and into his house, but something deep in his gut had twisted hard at the thought, warning him away before he could talk himself into doing the right thing.
Now he had some random girl in his bed.
Steve paced back and forth in his room, the worn carpet creaking softly beneath his feet. Every few steps, his eyes drifted back to the bed despite himself, like he needed to check that she was still there. His jacket was draped over her, heavy and oversized, swallowing her frame in a way that made his chest tighten.
In the low light of his bedside lamp, her face looked softer than it had in the woods. Still pale, still drawn but less frantic now. Her features were sharp, pronounced cheekbones, a narrow jaw, and lips slightly parted as she breathed. Damp hair curled slightly as it dried, dark strands spilling loosely around her face and across the pillow. It looked clean but neglected, grown without care, and uneven at the ends.
Steve brought his hands to his face, rubbing at his eyes. He let out a slow breath, then another, before forcing himself to move. Standing there staring at her wasnโt helping anyone.
He stepped quietly out of the room and down the hall, the house feeling too big and too empty around him. In the bathroom, he grabbed a towel from the rack, hesitating only a second before soaking it with warm water. His reflection stared back at him from the mirror, tired, tense, way out of his depth, and he didnโt bother meeting his own eyes for long.
With the towel clutched in his hands, Steve turned back toward his room, heart thudding a little harder with every step.
She woke slowly at first, suspended in a strange and hazy quiet. For a few heartbeats, there was no fear. Just the dull ache behind her eyes and warmth pressed over her chest.
She sat up in a sharp jolt, pain detonating through her skull as the room tilted violently. A breath tore out of her before she could stop it, her hand flying instinctively to the weight draped over her. Fabric. Thick. Her fingers clenched tight around it, grounding herself before she could think too hard about why it was there.
Not rain.
The thought came unbidden, followed immediately by another as her eyes snapped open.
Not the woods.
Her gaze swept the room in quick, fractured pieces, walls too close, ceiling too solid, light too warm. A bed beneath her. A door. Her pulse spiked hard and fast as memory crashed back into place all at once: headlights. Static. The sound that had followed her for too long.
Inside.
The word hit like a trigger.
She didnโt think. Thinking came later, thinking got you caught. Her body moved on instinct, the jacket slipping from her shoulders as she swung her legs off the bed and lunged for the door. The carpet unfamiliar beneath her feet, the room spinning as she twisted the handle and yanked it open.
She ran straight into something solid.
A sharp gasp tore out of her as she rebounded hard, hands flying up just in time to catch herself against a chest that wasnโt a wall, wasnโt furniture. Too warm. Arms came up instinctively, steadying her before she could stumble back, and the sudden proximity sent panic flaring in her veins.
โWhoa- hey,โ a voice said, close and startled.
She froze.
Her fingers curled into the front of his shirt without permission, breath coming fast and shallow as she stared up at him, eyes wide and wild, already bracing for the worst.
Steve barely had time to react before someone slammed into him.
He caught her without thinking, hands coming up automatically to keep her from falling back, and then she went completely still. Not stiff or struggling. Justโฆ frozen.
Her eyes were wide as they stared up at him, unfocused and glassy like she was seeing something else entirely. Her hands were clenched in the front of his shirt, knuckles white, breath coming too fast and too shallow. Up close, she looked even worse than she had in the car, paler, and thinner, like she might shatter if he moved wrong.
โHey,โ Steve said quietly, easing his grip the second he realized he was holding her. โHey, itโs okay. Youโre not in trouble.โ
She didnโt respond, and something about that scared him more.
Steve swallowed and loosened his grip immediately, hands lifting away like heโd been burned. He took a small step back, slow and deliberate, making sure she could see every movement.
โOkay,โ he said quietly. โOkay. Iโm gonna let go.โ
She didnโt move, didnโt blink and still frozen in place, eyes locked on his face like she was bracing for something to happen.
Steve shifted his weight and angled his body slightly, putting space between them without turning his back. โYou- you fainted,โ he added, voice low, careful. โI just-โ He hesitated, then tried again. โYouโre safe. Youโre in my house.โ
That seemed to register, at least a little. Her grip on his shirt loosened, fingers twitching like they werenโt sure what to do without something to hold onto.
Steve took the opening.
โHey,โ he said gently, nodding toward the bed behind her. โLetโs sit down, alright? Just for a second. I donโt want you falling again.โ
He didnโt touch her right away. Just waited, offering the suggestion instead of forcing it. When she swayed slightly on her feet, Steve stepped in again, but this time, he barely brushed her elbow, light enough that she could pull away if she wanted.
โEasy,โ he murmured.
He guided her back toward the bed, slow and steady, easing her down until she was sitting on the edge. Only then did he step back again, hands dropping to his sides as he gave her space, watching closely in case she tipped forward or bolted all over again.
โYou okay?โ he asked, softer now. โYou feel dizzy?โ
She didnโt answer. Instead, she gave a small, hesitant nod, the movement barely more than a twitch of her chin.
Steve exhaled slowly, like heโd been holding his breath without realizing it. โOkay,โ he said, just as quietly. โThatโs good. Thatโs..yeah. Thatโs good.โ
She stayed perched on the edge of the bed, shoulders tense, hands clenched loosely in her lap like she wasnโt sure what to do with them. Her eyes never left him, tracking every shift of his weight, every breath, and every movement.
โIโm gonna grab you some water,โ Steve said, already backing toward the door again. โIโll be right back. I promise.โ
He waited, watching her carefully.
When she didnโt flinch or bolt, he took that as permission and stepped out into the hall, leaving the door open behind him.
Steve took the stairs two at a time, heart still thudding as he headed for the kitchen. The house was dark except for the faint glow from the stove clock, the quiet broken only by the low hum of the refrigerator. He grabbed a glass from the cabinet, filled it at the sink, and let out a slow breath as the water sloshed softly against the sides.
Okay. Water. Simple. Normal.
He turned, glass in hand and nearly dropped it.
She was standing a few feet behind him.
โJesus-!โ Steve jerked back on instinct, the water spilling over his fingers as his heart slammed violently into his ribs. โI-I said Iโd be right back.โ
She hadnโt made a sound. No footsteps on the stairs. No creak of the floor. Just there, pale and wide-eyed in the dim light, his jacket hanging loose around her shoulders like she hadnโt even noticed it slipping.
Steve forced himself to breathe, lowering the glass carefully onto the counter before he spilled it completely. โHey,โ he said again, softer this time, hands lifting slightly. โYou scared the hell outta me.โ
She didnโt respond, just stared at him, tense and unreadable.
She didnโt look at the glass of water nor look at him at all.
Instead, she turned slowly, bare feet quiet against the tile as she drifted past him toward the back of the house. Steve watched her go, a tight knot forming in his chest as she headed straight for the sliding glass door.
โHey-โ he started, panic flaring as he took a step after her. โYou donโt have to-โ
She stopped inches from the glass.
Steve froze. For a split second, he was sure she was going to open it. Sure she was going to bolt out into the dark, barefoot and half-conscious and gone before he could stop her. His grip tightened reflexively around the edge of the counter.
But she didnโt reach for the handle. She just stood there, staring out into the backyard.
The porch light cast a dull yellow glow over wet grass and the edge of the trees beyond, rain-dark and motionless. She leaned closer to the glass, head tilting slightly, eyes tracking something Steve couldnโt see. His skin prickled.
โWhat are you-โ He stopped himself, lowering his voice. โWhat are you looking at?โ
She didnโt answer nor did she move. She just kept staring into the dark like she watching for something only she could see.
Steve hesitated for only a second before moving.
โHey,โ he said softly, not touching her yet. โLetโs..letโs step away from there, okay?โ
She didnโt react, nor look at him, still staring out into the dark.
Slowly, Steve reached out and placed a hand at her elbow, light enough that, again, she could pull away if she wanted to. He felt her tense under his touch but she didnโt resist. She let him guide her back, one careful step at a time, away from the door.
She moved with him easily, almost automatically, like she was used to being redirected, used to letting someone else decide where she should stand. When they stopped, she stayed where he left her, hands curling into the sleeves of his jacket, eyes finally dropping to the floor.
Steve withdrew his hand immediately, heart thudding.
โThank you,โ he said, unsure why the words felt necessary.
She didnโt respond. Just stood there, quiet and compliant, the porch light still casting her shadow long across the kitchen floor.
Steve stepped back toward the counter, reaching for the glass of water heโd left there.
She moved before he could take a second step.
Her fingers closed around the sleeve of his jacket, grip sudden and tight enough to stop him short. Not frantic, just fast, like sheโd realized something important a heartbeat too late.
Slowly, he turned back toward her. She was staring at his chest now, not his face, knuckles white where she held on, breath shallow like she wasnโt sure she was allowed to breathe yet.
โIโm not going anywhere,โ he said immediately, voice low and steady. โI was just getting you some water.โ
Her grip didnโt loosen. If anything, it tightened just a fraction.
Steve swallowed and shifted the glass to his other hand, careful not to pull away. โSee?โ he said gently, lifting it a little so she could see. โIโm still right here.โ
For a long moment, she stayed like that, anchored to him, eyes flicking once toward the darkened doorway behind them before finally easing her grip. Just a little.
Steve lifted the glass slightly. โItโs just water,โ he said gently. โYou can-โ
She reached out and took it from him. Not rough, nor frantic, just decisive. Her fingers closed around the glass like she didnโt want to risk him changing his mind, and she brought it to her lips without looking at him. She took a small sip at first, cautious, like she was testing it.
Then she drank again. And again.
The restraint vanished all at once. She tipped the glass back, swallowing in quick, desperate pulls like sheโd forgotten how thirsty she was until that second. Water sloshed dangerously close to the rim, a little spilling down her chin as she went too fast.
โHey-โ Steve said, startled, stepping forward instinctively. โEasy, easy-โ
She stopped only when the glass was nearly empty, chest rising and falling hard as she dragged in a breath. For a second she just stood there, blinking, like she couldnโt quite believe it was real.
Steve gently took the glass back before it slipped from her hands. โOkay,โ he said softly. โOkay. Thatโsโฆ yeah. Thatโs fine.โ
She wiped her mouth with the back of her sleeve, eyes flicking up to his face for the briefest moment before dropping again. Her hands shook now that they were empty.
Steve set the glass down carefully, watching her like she might tip over if he blinked. Whatever tension had been holding her upright seemed to drain all at once.
She swayed where she stood, the color leeching from her face as her grip tightened briefly on the counter before slipping. Steve caught it immediately, the hitch in her breath, the way her focus went unfixed.
โHey-โ He moved fast, hands coming up just in time to catch her as her knees buckled.
She sagged into him with a soft, startled sound, too weak to fight it this time. Steve adjusted his hold instinctively, one arm bracing her back as the other slid under her knees before he could think better of it.
โOkay,โ he murmured, more to himself than her. โIโve got you.โ
She didnโt protest. Her head tipped forward against his shoulder, breath warm and uneven against his collarbone as he lifted her fully off the floor. She was lighter than he expected, again and the realization tightened something in his chest.
Steve turned and headed for the stairs, careful with each step as he carried her back down the hall. The house stayed quiet around them, the distance to his room feeling longer than it had before.
When he reached the bed, he lowered her gently onto the mattress, easing her down like she might break if he wasnโt careful. He straightened slowly, hands hovering for a second before pulling back.
Steve stepped back, heart still racing, and wondered how something could feel so fragile and so dangerous at the same time.
She didnโt lose consciousness this time.
She stayed curled on her side, breathing shallow but steady, eyes squeezed shut as the dizziness passed in slow, miserable waves. Steve sat down on the edge of the bed and didnโt move, hands braced on his knees like leaving might break something important. He watched her carefully, counting breaths, waiting for her to tip over again.
Eventually, her shoulders eased. The tight line of her mouth softened.
โYou okay?โ he asked quietly.
She nodded. Just barely.
Steve waited another few seconds, then tried again. โIโm Steve,โ he said, offering it like an olive branch. โWhatโs your name?โ
No answer.
โThatโsโฆ okay,โ he added quickly. โYou donโt have to tell me. I justโฆ I need to know where you live. Or if thereโs someone I should call.โ
Still nothing. She stared at the wall instead, jaw tight, eyes unfocused like she was listening to something far away.
โAre you in trouble?โ he asked, softer now.
Silence.
The knot in his chest tightened. Steve scrubbed a hand through his hair and nodded to himself, forcing a small, brittle smile. โAlright. I get it. I just.. Iโll give you some space, okay? Iโll be right downstairs if you need-โ
He shifted, starting to stand. Her hand shot out and caught his.
Steve froze and looked back at her. Her fingers were wrapped around his, weak but insistent, eyes wide again in that same quiet, pleading way.
She swallowed.
โFour,โ she said hoarsely.
Steve blinked. โFour?โ
Her grip loosened just enough for her to turn her wrist. Slowly, deliberately, she flipped her hand over and held it there between them.
004 was etched into the skin of her inner wrist, faded but unmistakable.
โIโm four,โ she said again.
The room went very, very still.
Steve stared at the numbers, his brain scrambling to make them mean anything other than what they suddenly, terrifyingly did. He looked back up at her face, confusion and concern tangling tight in his chest.
โOkay,โ he said finally, voice careful, steady. โAlright. Four.โ
When Steve Harrington stops for what he thinks is nothing more than a trick of the dark, he doesnโt expect to find a girl collapsing into his arms in the middle of the road.
โง ๐๐ข๐ฌ๐ฎ๐๐ฅ๐ฌ โง
Four
Steve
โง ๐๐๐ซ๐ง๐ข๐ง๐ ๐ฌ โง
Slow burn, Protective Steve, Past Trauma, Past Abuse, Hurt/Comfort
โง ๐๐๐ญ ๐ โง
โค The Girl in the Woods
โค Benefactor
โค Closed Blinds
โค Out of Sight
โค The Watch
โค March 12, 1984
โง ๐๐๐ญ ๐๐ โง
โค (more to come)
โง Extra โง
If you wann stay in the loop, please follow #The Space Between Static Updates tags to get updates! :)
When Steve Harrington stops for what he thinks is nothing more than a trick of the dark, he doesnโt expect to find a girl collapsing into his arms in the middle of the road.
AN: Iโve been working on this fic for so long. I hope you guys like it! I swear that the next chapters will be longer
Masterlist | Next Ch. >>
Steve shouldnโt be out this late. He shouldโve stayed with Tommy and Carol, let the noise and laughter drown the buzz in his head. Instead heโd driven them home in near silence, the image of the Wheeler house lingering more than it should have. What heโd seen in the window had left him restless.
The car felt too quiet without them, the empty seats a reminder he couldnโt shake. Steve rolled his shoulders, jaw tight, eyes trained on the stretch of road ahead like it might give him answers if he stared long enough. He didnโt want to think about Nancy, about what heโd seen or what it meant, so he let the miles pass. He let the radio hiss, the rain, and the hum of the car engine drown out his thoughts.
The headlights caught movement ahead, something thin and unsteady crossing the road. Steveโs foot eased off of the gas, eyes narrowing as the shape froze in the beam of light. The closer he got, the clearer it became that it wasnโt an animal at all, but a humanoid figure standing too still in the road. Then it bolted, darting back into the trees with a sharp, panicked urgency that made his stomach drop. Steve pressed hard on the brake, the car lurching as his heart kicked painfully against his ribs.
He sat frozen in his seat for a moment, mind reeling at what he had just seen, before his body began moving on its own. He parked the car, unbuckled his seatbelt and shoved the door open, stepping out into the rain as the cold bit sharply at his cheeks.
Steve stood still after slamming the car door shut, rain beating down around him as he moved slowly toward the front of the car. He kept his eyes fixed on the dark stretch of trees where the figure had fled. This was a bad idea. The thought came too late.
โHello?โ Steve called out, his voice cutting through the rain.
He waited, only hearing the rain fall against leaves and wet earth.
โAnyone out there?โ
Steve exhaled slowly, his breath fogging in front of his face.
This is stupid. Heโd scared himself over nothing, some animal, some shadow, his brain filling in the gaps it shouldnโt. The woods stayed quiet now, unmoved by his voice and presence and the longer he stood there, the more exposed he felt.
He turned back to the car, pausing when he heard a sound come from his left.
A faint, clicking chatter. Too sharp to be the rain, and too rhythmic to be the wind through the branches. Steve froze mid-step, head snapping up as he scanned the trees.
โWhat the hellโฆ?โ He muttered, eyes narrowing as the noise came again, closer this time. His stomach twisted uneasily.
He barely had time to register the movement beside him before a figure seemed to materialize out of the darkness.
โJesus-!โ Steve stumbled back, heart slamming violently against his chest. She was soaked to the bone, hair plastered to her face, skin pale and drawn, her frame so thin it looked like the rain could knock her over. Her eyes were wide and frantic as they locked onto his.
โYou need to leave,โ she said, breathless and urgent. โNow.โ
Steve opened his mouth to say something but the words died in his throat. A sharp crack snapped through the trees behind them. Steveโs head whipped toward the sound on instinct, muscles tensing as he scanned the darkness beyond the road. A branch swayed slightly, rain dripping from its leaves, but nothing moved. No footsteps. No chittering. Just the low hush of the woods settling back into stillness. His pulse hammered as he turned back.
The girl had gone deathly pale. Dark red streaking suddenly from her nose, cutting stark lines against her skin, and her eyes unfocused as if she were looking straight through him.
โHey-โ Steve stepped forward just as her knees buckled. Steve lunged forward on instinct, catching her before she hit the ground. She folded into his arms with barely any resistance, her body frighteningly light. For a split second, all he could think was how wrong it felt, how she weighed nothing more than a kid, ribs sharp beneath his hands, skin cold through soaked fabric.
โHey- Hey, stay with me,โ he said, even as he realized she couldnโt hear him.
He adjusted his grip, panic spiking hard and fast in his chest. He glanced toward the trees, half-expecting something to come crashing out of the darkness, but the woods stayed still, watchful and silent.
He couldnโt leave her here.
The thought cut through the fear with startling clarity. Whatever the hell was going on, whoever she was, leaving her unconscious in the rain wasnโt an option.
Steve turned and hurried back toward the car, sneakers slipping slightly on the wet pavement as he wrestled the door open and eased her into the passenger seat. Her head lolled forward, dark hair clinging to her face as he fumbled for the seatbelt with shaking hands.
He slammed the door shut, chest heaving, and stood there for a moment in the rain, staring through the window at her pale, unmoving face.
Then he ran around to the driverโs side and got in.
Stranger Things got me by the throat. But for ffs can yall start yalls post as s5 Spoliers!! ๐ญ๐ญ im trying to wait for the entire season to drop and yall ainโt helping
