Mily but I write stuff here :]

I like to write sometimes :)

[mily-writes-stuff]

Savior Complex

Steve Harrington x Dove Jones (OC)

On Going Series (currently going through earlier chapter rewrites! Bare with me)

Series Summary: In the fall of 1984, Dove Jones gets roped into helping babysit a gaggle of thirteen year olds with Steve Harrington after she gave her new friend, Max Mayfield, a ride to the old junkyard. She becomes tied into the hell that lies beneath Hawkins and along the way, finds love with Hawkins former King. Together, they experience love, loss, and learn to navigate young adulthood while fighting monsters and the end of the world. But they might be more intertwined with each other and the monsters than they ever expected.

Series CW/TW: slowish burn (you'll understand why I say ish), mutual pining, found family, death, violence, fluff, Panic Attacks, grief, mature themes, smut, crude language.

Authors note: I love to write for fun and I will be taking season five into my hands because canon is MY BITCH. anyway, I think Steve Harrington did deserve a love story with someone who is just as willing to give up their life for others as he is so I wrote this. There will be spelling and grammar errors but eh, who cares, not like this is gonna blow up lol.

ao3 link!

Chapter 1: Lizard Dogs

Chapter 2: The Snowball Dance

Chapter 3: In-betweens

Chapter 4: The Graduation Party

Chapter 5: American Hero's

Chapter 6: Crack the Code

-rewritten up to here as of July 22nd, 2026-

Chapter 7: The Fall of the Wannabe American Hero's

Chapter 8: Veronica Jones

Chapter 9: Wonder Woman

Chapter 10: Back to the Future

Chapter 11: The Battle of Starcourt Mall

Chapter 12: Death and All Her Friends

Chapter 13: Edge of Desire

Chapter 14: The Kids Might Be Alright

Chapter 15: Like It Tends To Do

Chapter 16: Change

Chapter 17: Moon Song

Chapter 18: Come Down Soon

Chapter 19: Every Breath You Take

Chapter 20: I'll Be Watching You

Chapter 21: Aphasia

Chapter 22: Restless Mind

Chapter 23: Wanting More

Chapter 24: Freakin' Out

Extras:

Savior Complex Headcanons

December 27th, 1984

February 19th, 1985

[mily-writes-stuff]

New Savior Complex chapter this weekend before I see the odyssey??

[mily-writes-stuff]

Savior Complex

pairing: Steve Harrington x OC

word count: 3.1k

summary: Spying and Russian code cracking are on the agenda for the day as a storm blows into Hawkins.

warnings: none but let me know if there's anything I should warn about

authors note: I love Dove cause she doesn't understand her feelings like me (shocker a self insert? oh well) but yeah anyway we're getting closer to plot points I love!! also lmk if there's anything needed to be corrected cause sometimes I can't spell and I have terrible grammar!

chapter 5

masterlist

Chapter 6: Crack the Code

“Friends?! That’s where the conversation landed, on you two just being friends?!” Dustin practically shrieks from Dove’s passenger seat as they discuss what happened after he went to Steve's car.

He left them alone so they could profess their love for each other, not for them to go back to how they were before.

“Yes, Dustin, friends, like we have been for months!”

“Oh my God,” Dustin rolled his eyes, hand going to his face. “I don’t know how to make it any easier for you two, you guys are meant to be together!”

Dove takes her turn rolling her eyes, keeping her face forward and her jaw set, silently praying Dustin will drop it. She’s already hanging on by a thread, already dealing with the fact that she put Steve in the friend zone, even though it’s the last place she actually wants him to be.

But wanting something and allowing herself to have it have never been the same thing.

She doesn't know what it is inside her fighting the want for him so badly but it's strong. So strong it's making things come out of her mouth she doesn't even mean. Things like "it was just the heat of the moment" because what kind of bullshit is that? She knows it wasn't that, they had been feeling that tension for months. 

Yet why does she keep pushing him away?

And why is admitting her feelings for him more painful then she can even admit?

She felt like she did the logical thing: stopping it before it could turn into something that would ruin a good thing. Before she could potentially lose him entirely. 

But what it really came down to was the panic she felt that night. A feeling she had never felt before and it was so new and scary she wanted to push everything away from her that made it crack out of her. 

She had no clue what was happening but she knew she couldn’t lose Steve. Pushing him away and setting that boundary was the right thing to do.

Yeah, that’s what she’s going to believe.

“This is ridiculous,” Dustin muttered, rubbing his temples.

“Dustin,” she says carefully, using the tone she found was best when he was especially dramatic, “we are fine. Everything is fine.”

“No,” Dustin says flatly. “Everything is not fine.”

He slumps back in the seat, arms crossed, staring up at the car ceiling like it has personally betrayed him.

Friends.

Friends.

He left them alone. Alone. In a creepy, empty parking lot. He took Steve’s keys like a gentleman. Like a matchmaker. And this is what they came up with?

Just friends?

“I gave you an opening,” Dustin continues, voice rising again. “I literally removed myself from the situation. I walked away. On purpose. Do you know how hard that was?”

Dove glances at him. “You walked twenty feet.”

“Plenty of distance for you guys to kiss without me hearing!”

“Dustin!”

“What do you want me to say? I have watched you two pine after each other for months and when something happens, you two push each other away!” Dustin’s a little frustrated at the lack of awareness the two older teens seem to have.

Dove sighs, choosing not to comment on how Dustin knows something happened, she’s sure Steve told him. She continues praying, this time hoping that Steve saved her a little pride and didn’t say everything that happened. She knows he did, he had to of, he's not like that.

“Dustin, it is fine. I am fine, Steve said he was fine, we are good just being friends,” Dove says, hoping that will allow the boy to drop the topic.

Dustin scoffs, “Yeah, well I think you’re both liars.”

Dove's blue chevy pulls into the already flooding parking lot of Starcourt Mall and they find a spot towards the back. Dustin practically gets out of the car while it's still moving as Dove follows behind at a normal pace. When they reach inside the mall, Dustin is quick to drop the topic in trade for his plan for the day. Most of it is in one ear and out the other but when he starts to tell her about how he and Steve will be looking for evil Russian's while she and Robin work on translating, she speaks up.

“You know, maybe we should stop calling them ‘evil,’” Dove says, making air quotes with her fingers. “It’s a little rude. I mean, I’m Russian, my mom’s Russian, hell, my whole maternal side of the family is Russian. Like, they were born there.”

“Okay, well, you guys are like the exception,” Dustin says, brushing off her attempt to correct his stereotype.

After arriving at Scoops, Dove and Dustin linger in a booth, waiting for Robin and Steve's manager to leave so they can finally start the translation. It's about 1 P.M. when she finally leaves, letting the two teens handle the shop for their shift. 

Once there's a lull in service, the usual time around 2, Dustin decides it's time to divide and conquer. He pushes Dove and Robin into the back to translate while he and Steve go off to spy. 

That situation lasts for all of about twenty minutes before Dove's stomach starts growling. She groans, showing her head back as Robin starts the tape again. 

"Okay, I know we just started but I'm starving, you want anything?" Dove asks, standing up from the break room table. 

"Oh, yeah, can you get me some pizza and a Coke?" Robin says, digging some cash out of her backpack next to her. 

"For sure," Dove smiles, taking the cash and making her way out of the ice cream shop and into the food court. 

Crouched behind a half wall filled with plants, on the edge of the food court, Steve and Dustin take turns with the binoculars the fourteen-year-old brought. And as Steve looks through them now, he realizes he has no idea what he should be looking for.

“You see anything?” Dustin asks.

“Uh, I don’t totally know what I’m looking for,” Steve says, adjusting the focus as he keeps scanning.

“Evil Russians,” Dustin replies, ignoring Dove’s earlier advice.

“Yeah, exactly,” Steve says curtly. “I don’t know what an evil Russian looks like.”

The only Russian he knows is Dove, and while she may have broken his heart a little last night, she is definitely not evil.

“Tall, blonde, not smiling. Look for earpieces, camo, duffel bags. That sort of thing.”

“Right. Okay. Duffel bags,” Steve mutters, scanning again.

He pans the crowd, his lower lip in-between his teeth as he tries to focus. Russians, duffels, camo, earpieces. Not a Russian, not a Russian, pretty blonde Russian talking to Mark Lewinsky, not a Russian, not a—wait.

He jerks his eyes back over to the blonde hair he saw and his lip leaves his teeth grasp as his mouth hangs open. There just across the way, Dove is standing outside the Pizza Hut smiling slightly. Is she laughing? Is she blushing? Is she really talking to Mark fucking Lewinsky?

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding.”

“What?” Dustin asks excitedly, pushing closer to Steve.

“Dove’s talking to that meathead Mark Lewinsky. She doesn't even like Mark Lewinsky!”

“Oh my God,” Dustin groans, facepalming. “If you’re not going to focus, just give me the binoculars.”

Steve ignores Dustin's request as he watches Mark move closer to Dove, his hand reaching out to brush her elbow. His finger trace her crossed forearm, dangerously close to her chest.

"Aw, Jesus Christ, whatever happened to standards Dove," Steve grips, knuckles going white around the binoculars before he watches Dove step away from the touch. "Actually I should've guessed she'd do that. But seriously, Lewinsky didn't even come off the bench! Why is she even entertaining him like this."

Through the binoculars though, Steve cannot make out how deeply unimpressed Dove is with this conversation. Mark is telling her stories about basketball games she was at and knows he did not play in. It seems like he has no memory of who she is (though she doubts that with the way he's flirting with her like every guy did who wanted something from her), but even if not from the locker room crew that surrounded her, then she though't he'd at least remember her from being at almost every single home game and most away games with Steve Harrington, the captain of the basketball team. 

“And when we scored that game-winning shot against Portage Central,” Mark says with a grin, “man, it was electric.”

While deeply unimpressed with this guy, Dove isn't blind and can admit Mark is cute. The problem with Mark is he's a total meat head. She remembers this because she had her last two years of math with him and watched him cheat off of Anna Jacobi. She also listened to him make fun of poor Fred Benson when he would stutter answering a question. 

“Woooow,” Dove says, raising her eyebrows.

“Pretty cool, right?” Mark grins cockily, fully convinced he’s impressed her.

“Sure, yeah, totally,” Dove says with a small scoff. “Now, is this your greatest achievement to date that you use to pick up girls? Riding the bench while winning regionals?”

Mark laughs, swallowing hard, suddenly very nervous.

“Dude,” Dustin says as he yanks the binoculars from Steve’s hands, “you are the worst spy in history.”

“Hey, stop,” Steve protests, trying to get the strap off his neck before Dustin accidentally strangles him.

“I don’t know why you won’t tell her how you feel,” Dustin says, scanning the mall now.

When Steve's eyes refocus on the world again, he watches Dove walk away from a stuttering Mark. She carries the two pizza slices and drinks away with a satisfied smirk as Mark says something he's sure goes along the lines of "fucking bitch" from the way his mouth moves. Steve feels a little anger rise in him when he sees that but settles back as he remembers Dove is not his girlfriend and she can defend herself. Also she can talk to any guy she wants...she's not his, no matter how much he wishes she was. 

“Because she just wants to be friends,” Steve says. “She literally said so last night.”

“And she said those exact words? ‘Let’s just be friends?’”

Steve puffs his cheeks out as he tries to find the right wording. “Well, not exactly. She said, ‘I shouldn’t have crossed that line. We’re friends. It was just the heat of the moment.’ Which it was…just heat of the moment.”

Dustin stares at him incredulously. “Are you fucking stupid?”

"Whoooaa, language," Steve says, realizing he's never heard that word come out of Dustin's mouth before. "What do you mean? It's what she said, it's clearly how she feels."

"Uh huh, sure, totally not like she could lie about that," Dustin says, drawing out the word lie as he leans closer to Steve. "Seriously either you two are the most oblivious people I've ever met or just too stupid to say how you feel."

“She just wants to be friends, man. She said so, what can I do?”

“Uh, tell her how you feel?”

Steve looks at him with wide are you fucking stupid? eyes saying, “No, no way.”

“Yes, way.”

“No.”

“Yes!”

“Stop.”

“No way, Steve, you have to tell her-”

"Okay, listen, maybe we're just better off as friends," Steve cuts him off, holding his hands up in exasperation. "I mean, she's probably going to go off to some school in the fall and do something amazing and I'm just gonna be here, working some lame job and trying to get into community college. She's got plans and I'm just gonna be here, like some loser schmuck. Besides you know, people will think I'm weird if I'm dating someone who's out of town or just not believe me and—"

"Yeah, I get it, she's awesome, you think so, I think so, Max thinks so, whatever, but that doesn't make you a 'loser schmuck' because your doing something different. And you and I both know she doesn't want to go far and you guys are stupidly into each other. So why don't you just act like an adult, 'cause you know you're out of high school now which technically means you're one, and get past those primitive constructs that you formed in you head there about people thinking you're 'weird'." 

Normally Steve would smack Dustin for cutting him off like that but he finds himself actually pondering on his words. He has a point, he shouldn't care what people think about him dating someone out of town. He's past those ideas of keeping a 'popularity' status so why does that matter?

Oh right, because he's trying to find anyway to cope with Dove friend zoning him again.

So even though Dustin MIGHT be right, he needs to get away from this topic before he falls into the self deprecating spiral he does thinking about Dove now. 

“Oh, primitive constructs?” Steve scoffs, reaching for Dustin’s hat and missing. “That some shit you learned at camp…know…nothing?”

“Camp Know Where, actually,” Dustin corrects. “And no. It’s shit I learned from life.”

Steve hums, raising his eyebrows and rolling his eyes. “Right, right… and how’d you score your “hotter than Phoebe Cates" girlfriend? Oh yeah, with my advice.”

“Yeah, maybe you should take your own advice,” Dustin smiles at Steve sarcastically.

Steve curls his lip and him, repeating his last words in a mocking tone.

-

After Dove returned to Scoops, her and Robin scarfed down their pizza and sodas before they finally got back into the tape and finished translating. Now the message sat fully written out on a notebook between them.

Dove keeps reading out the words over and over, trying to figure out the riddle. "The week is long, the silver cat feeds when blue meets yellow in the west. A trip to china sounds nice if you tread lightly." 

Robin sips her drink, the slurping sound especially loud. “We’ve gotten nowhere.”

"Yeah, well that makes sense 'cause, you know, this is clearly some spy shit," Dove huffs. 

Robin, who had been pacing behind Dove, now jumps up on the dividing window. She slings her legs over and looks out into the nearly empty ice cream parlor before turning back to Dove. 

"So...what's up with you and Harrington?" Robin asks, a smile twitching at the corner of her mouth. 

Dove feels her eyes widen as she keeps her gaze on the page, heat creeping over her head. 

"Whatdoyoumean?" She blurts out way too quickly, making Robin's lip stretch into a full, knowing smile now. 

"Oh you know, just the obvious sexual tension in the air between you two since you came in yesterday."

Dove fully blushes now. "What? Psshhh, sexual tension? I don't—we don't, I mean...we're friends, that's all."

Robin rolls her eyes, just like everyone else who heard the excuse does. "Sure, Jones, whatever you say, but there's no denying it. Something either happened or will happen, it's just a matter of time."

Dove's cheeks redden even more as she tries to shut out the memories of Steve's head between her thighs. She's sure Robin can't read her mind but from the way she's staring at her now...she's afraid she might just be able to.

But thankfully, she's saved by a loud knocking on the back door of the shop.  

Robin looks to the door then to Dove, “Will you get that?”

“Me? I don’t even work here.”

“Yeah but you’re back there already.”

Dove rolls her eyes, pushing herself off the counter and going to the door. Robin mutters “tread lightly” as she picks up the translation book again, trying to see if it means anything else in the translation.

“Delivery for Scoops Ahoy?” the delivery guy says when Dove opens the door.

“Thanks,” Dove smiles, taking the box from the man and setting it on the table behind her. She turns back to the man, grabbing the clipboard and pen, signing Robin’s name. When she hands the paper back, her eye catches the logo on the man’s shirt.

“Lynx” written in bold red letters. Lynx…that’s a type of cat, Dove thinks to herself. She stares for a little too long, the man raising his eyebrows at her muttering, “Have a nice day.”

“Yeah, you too,” she replied, distantly. As he walked away, she walked into the back hallway, looking at the back of his shirt. A giant silver cat printed on the back confirms her suspicion. She quickly whips around saying, “Silver cat, holy shit, silver cat.”

“What?” Robin asks as looks at Dove who is now wide eyed.

“His shirt, Lynx, the delivery guys, they’re the silver cat,” Dove explains, walking up to Robin in the window. Robin furrows her brows at her before Dove begins to piece it all together. She grabs the notepad, pushing through the swing door and then grabbing Robin’s hand. “Come on.”

As Dove pulls them out of the shop, Steve and Dustin begin to walk back in.

“Guys, you’re not gonna believe who Dustin thought was a Russian,” Steve announces as he walks in.

“You did too!” Dustin snaps back.

“No I did not.”

Neither of the girls listen though, pushing past them and running into the courtyard of the mall.

“Okay listen,” Dove explains as they run into the middle of the courtyard, pushing past everyone. “Let’s just go with the idea that the silver cats are the mall delivery people. So, what in this mall would fit ‘a trip to China that sounds nice’.”

Robin blinks for a second, trying to take in all the information Dove says, but quickly goes along. The two of them spin around, eyes scanning the malls around them before Robin says, “There!”and points to the Imperial Panda, the same name that is on the delivery boxes they receive.

“YES! Oh my god, Okay good, good, now if you tread lightly.” Dove then spins around again, frantically searching and certainly looking like a crazy person standing on this fountain. It's worth it though when she grabs Robin's shoulder and spins her around to point out Kaufman shoes on the second floor corner of the mall. 

"Holy shit," Robin mutters. 

"Holy shit," Dove echoes. 

“So what’s when blue and yellow meet in the west?” Robin asks as they stare at each other.

A loud ticking hits their right ears at the same time, their heads slowly turning to the giant clock above them with blue and yellow hands.

“Holy shit,” they say at the same time, smiling widely at each other.

“Dove, Robin!” Steve calls, walking up to the two of them with a confused look. Dustin's face mirrored it. “What are you guys doing?”

“We cracked it,” Dove announced proudly.

“Cracked what?” Steve asks.

“The code,” Robin answers, jumping down from the fountain wall they were standing on. “She cracked it.”

“We cracked it,” Dove corrects.

-

So, when the blue and yellow hands of the mall clock meet pointing west and rain began to pour relentlessly outside in a summer storm, the four America hero wannabe's lay flat on the mall roof. 

The rain soaks everything on them and a chill runs down Dove's spin even though she was wrapped in Steve's rain jacket. He forced the item on her since he had brought two with him and she admitted she had brought none. Unfortunately for Steve, that second jacket didn't have a hood and he deeply regretted that as rain streamed down his face and blurred his vision.

But the rain didn't mean much with the way Dove and Steve were pressed together as they were sandwiched between Robin and Dustin. They peered over the edge of the building, trying to stay low as to not be spotted. 

Dove was so aware of every movement she was making as part of Steve's body was practically laying on top of hers. His warmth was a nice contrast to the rain and wind that made her skin burn with a chill. A part of her was trying to lean into it, getting lost in the feeling of him, but another part of her was trying to pull away, trying to not fall into that feeling. 

“Look for Imperial Panda and Kaufman Shoes,” Robin said loudly over the rain to Dustin, who held the binoculars.

Steve wiped water from his eyes and shoved his hair back for what felt like the twentieth time. The rain itself was warm, but the wind that came with it cut through them, leaving everyone shivering slightly. Steve found himself grateful for the warmth of Dove pressed against his left side.

A man whistled loudly as he unloaded boxes from a truck parked below. “Imperial Panda” was stamped across the sides.

“They’re with that whistling guy. Ten o’clock,” Dustin whispered, angling the binoculars.

“What do you think’s in there?” Steve asked, swiping water from his face again.

Dove glanced at Steve as she pushed her flattened curls behind her ear. Damn him for looking good with wet hair. Not like a wet dog at all, which was definitely how she felt she looked. She could feel mascara pooling beneath her lower lashes.

It definitely was not a good idea to be pressed against his side like this. Her heart is racing. Both from adrenaline and his touch. This is annoying. They’ve been like this before, it’s fine, normal for them as friends. Get over yourself, Jones.

“Guns. Bombs,” Dustin said, spitting water from his mouth.

“Chemical weapons?” Dove added.

“Whatever it is, they’re armed to the teeth,” Dustin said as he shifted the binoculars toward the guards holding guns.

“Great,” Steve deadpanned. “That’s just great.”

Thunder cracked over them, making Dove jump and move more into Steve. His leg laid on top of hers now, damp skin of their exposed legs touching. She keeps trying to force the thoughts of what this could mean and the feeling of him against her out of her brain. 

You're friends. This isn't anything. Don't think about the way he feels against you. How nice it feels, how right feels. You're friends, you've touched each other like this before. You're friends, you're just friends. That's what you wan't. That's what you ne—

“Hey, what’s in there?” Robin asked as a guard opened the door into the mall.

“It’s just more boxes,” Dustin replied, peering inside.

“Let me see,” Steve said, reaching for the binoculars. He needed a distraction from the way Dove felt against him before he lost his damn mind. Friends. Just friends.

“No, I’m still looking,” Dustin argued, clutching them tighter.

“Give it to me,” Steve insisted, tugging again.

“Would you two quit it,” Dove hissed, reaching in to grab the binoculars herself.

As the three of them gripped the object, pulling it different ways, they slammed them into the metal edge of the roof.

CLANG!

The sound rang out sharply through the rain.

The guards below immediately stiffened, guns shifting as they looked around.

“Duck,” Dustin whispered urgently.

As they all go down beneath the ledge, Steve arm went out to Dove in instinct. His right arm wrapped firmly around her waist, pulling her tightly against him while his left hand pressed her face against his chest. 

Everyone stays as stiles they can, breathing heavily with adrenaline. Dove's head was raising and falling with the Steve's chest, feeling the way his fingers are pressing into her hair to keep her there. Her own breathing was rapid, pressing her breasts against his stomach with every beat. 

And because God has a sense of humor or her brain is just out to get her, she can't help but think back to the last time she laid against Steve's chest like this.

March. Will’s birthday.

Her stomach does a flip at the memory, a moment neither of them talked about after it happened. And now, with her fingers starting to curl into that blue cotton of Steve's uniform, she can't stop the way that part of her brain that's been fighting her feelings for him suddenly silences by the part that wants this.

But all of those feelings go away when she hears a guard shout in Russian through her pounding heart in her ears. He says something about staying put and watching the door. Not good for them. 

“We gotta go,” Dove whispered urgently, smacking Steve’s side so he would let her go. He did, immediately helping Dustin and Robin up as they crawled low toward the stairwell. Once in the safety of the stairwell, there’s a breath of relief before Dustin says encourages them to run. Steve slips his hand into Dove’s, pulling her down the stairs.

They bolted down the stairs, Steve gripping Dove’s hand tightly, keeping her close as they ran. It’s instinctual for him to find her when something intense happens. A reflex he’s gained since that fall night.

Dove tried desperately to ignore the burning feeling in her chest.

Just friends.

Finally, they reach the back hallways and all stop, breathing hard. Dove gently pulls her hand from Steve’s, giving it a quick squeeze first to let him know she was okay.

“Well,” Robin said between breaths, “I think we found your Russians.”

Steve huffed a laugh and glanced over at Dove, giving her a small, crooked smile. She returned it before looking away.

What the fuck was going on…again?

---------------------

Taglist:

@amterasuu @ild4a @stilinskisensation @muffinbrown @huls1408

comment if you want to be added!!!

[send-up-my-heart-to-you-deactiv]

i dont think anything compares to the joy of getting asks on tumblr or getting comments on ao3

its like, wow. human communication thru the internet. except it feels personal. but yknow, in a nice way, not in an invasive way

its like, you CLICKED on MY account and read thru MY posts and cared enough to leave me a personal message. smth so cute abt that

[notmily]

Can’t remember the last time I wrote a x reader thing but rockstar!steve won’t leave my brain…

——————

Like I can just imagine him and his band getting ready for a gig in this venue. It’s their first sold out show after playing here for a while and the band is buzzing. Then all the sudden Max, who plays bass, come barreling into the dressing room tell Steve Eddie is sick.

“Sick what do you mean sick? We have a sold out venue to play tonight!?”

“I mean he’s sick Harrington, like pale laying on the couch in his apartment shivering.”

So Steve starts pacing trying to figure out what they need to do. Sure he plays guitar but he doesn’t know all of Eddie’s parts. He could ask Mike but no offense to him, he’s just not ready to be on stage like that.

Steve has freaking out as he tries to keep prepping for the show while trying to solve this crisis. Robin comes in to say something about the set list and Steve’s asking her is she can play Eddie’s parts in the keys which she says no, not without practice if they want it to be good.

And he’s worried, and worried but then all the sudden and angel walks in.

You’re working sound for the venue. You’ve only come back to ask the band to do sound check when you hear Steve’s spiral.

“I can play,” you say, making Steve and Robin slowly turn to you.

“You can?” Steve asks slowly, drinking in your figure. He feels his mouth go a little dry seeing you but the crisis in front of him makes his need dwindle.

You’re not even sure what possessed you to say that because now Steve Harrington, the guy every girl in the underground music scene has been crushing on, is now looking at you. And you can tell his checking you out but you push past that because this is your chance to get to play on stage with the hottest upcoming indie band storming the New York Music scene in the early 90s.

Crushed Velvet is all anyone can talk about in the last couple months since they arrived into the city.

And sure yeah, you’ve seen them play…okay you’ve seen them play every night since they started their residency at Mercury Lounge and have definitely not been crushing hard on their lead singer but that’s besides the point.

This is your chance.

“Yeah, I-uh- I’m also in a band- or was until everyone else went their own ways but I still play like a lot and I’ve heard you guys play a couple times now and I know all the songs-“

“You know all the songs?” Steve asks, a bit unbelieving.

“Yeah,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest, shrugging. “I’ve seen you guys play like every night since you started.”

Robin raises her brows before turning to Steve, “I mean, she sounds like she’s confident and we don’t really have anyone else?”

Steve pulls his lip into a line and then looks back to you, taking you in again. His stomach does that little flip thing when his eyes meet yours and then he’s grabbing his guitar and handing it to you.

“Play me something.”

“Like what?”

“Anything, wow me, princess.”

You try not to blush at the name as you pull the guitar strap of the acoustic over your head. But it’s easy to forget about Steve staring once you get into the music and play something you’ve been writing.

An intricate melody with bouncy chords and nice plucking that has Steve suddenly feeling like he’s going to fall over.

Whoever your are, where ever you can me from, he’s sure you’re sent from heaven.

-

You’re not really sure what did it but 45 minutes after that conversation you’re on stage with Crushed Velvet playing guitar for their poor sick guitarist Eddie.

And Steve thinks he’s in love.

You just play so beautifully, like yeah you’re a kick ass guitarist, you know your shit, but the way you move while you play seems to put Steve and the audience in a trance.

At one point during the set, doing a more rock cover of the Bee Gees “How Deep Is Your Love”, Steve finds himself falling to his knees in front of you while you play a lick on the guitar.

His eyes shine as they look up at you, singing into the mic the chorus. And you completely lean into it, playing to just him and Steve all the sudden thinks he’s died and gone to heaven.

He’s leaning into you, breathing slightly heavy as he lets you take the solo. And you find yourself leaning down to him, lips becoming closer and closer and the audience is losing it.

He can feel the heat radiating off you, your lips so close to his. Your hand that was strumming comes up to his face as you let the last note of your solo ring out as you hook your finger under his chin.

For a moment, he thinks he’s gonna get kissed in this stage in front of everyone by you but then the song picks up again and he knows it’s his cue to start singing again.

But your lips look so pretty and plump and red from the lipstick Max had thrown on you before the show to make you look more like the rockstar you are. So he’s leaning into it, eyes closed and ready to feel your lips, when he’s suddenly diverted and pushed back to his mic, where his snaps out of it and starts singing again.

He’s slept with a lot of people in the rise to stardom he’s having with his friends, he’s seen a lot of beautiful women come through the Mercury lounge, but no one has ever looked like you.

And after the show everyone in the band, Max, Robin, and Dustin (who’s surprisingly good at drums) are all gushing over the performance and how amazed they were with you.

But Steve just can’t stop staring from across the room and feeling the hunger and desire rising in him.

You catch his gaze while chatting with Max, eyes sparkling in the low light as you don’t miss the hunger in them.

You stomach erupts in butterflies as you blow him a kiss before turning with Max to head out to the bar.

And when he approaches you later at the bar, hand sliding across your hip and whispering into your ear…

“You really had me in a spell up there, trouble.”

“Trouble? What makes you call me that?”

His lips pull into a smirk against your temple.

“I dunno, maybe that little stunt you pulled in stage.”

You lean into his touch, turning slightly to look at him better. “Well if this is the only time I get to play with Crushed Velvet then I have to make it memorable.”

Steve raises his brows, “Oh believe me baby, this will not be the last time you play with us if I have anything to say about it.”

“Oh?”

Steve leans forward his lips grazing over yours, drunk on tequila and your proximity. “Uh huh.”

His lips capture yours in a hungry, slow kiss. His hand spread on your hip pulls you in more, spinning you around. Your lower back digs into the bar top as your hands come up and wind into his hair.

His tongue slides across your lips and you open up allowing him to slid it in and taste your mouth fully. His groans are swallowed by the sounds of the late night band playing and your mouth.

And that’s how you end up at the second guitarist for your boyfriend’s band Crushed Velvet.

[mily-writes-stuff]

Savior Complex

pairing: Steve Harrington x OC

word count: 6.1k

summary: Steve gets a summer job and Dove returns from New York, things are a little tense until Dustin decides they need to become True American Hero's

warnings: discussions of sex and sexual acts, talks of anxiety, self deprecation

authors note: oof, Dove doesn't understand how to process feelings and Steve is down bad!! I hope ya'll enjoy.

chapter 4

masterlist

Chapter 5: American Hero's

June did stretch on and on and on. The heat grew more as the summer solstice came and went. With summer also came Starcourt Mall, a place where teens infested the corridor and shops daily. The overhead lights made Steve squint every time he walked into Scoops Ahoy. His summer job that makes him feel like even more of a loser when he slips on that stupid blue sailor suit. 

Ice cream, God, of course it was ice cream. It's stupid that's the thing that's bothering him the most during June. He's been associating that last night with Dove with the sweet treat and...it's weird 'cause he can barely even eat the damn thing now. Maybe for the better. He just finds it cosmically ironic because the last thing he and Dove did together before she left was get ice cream. 

Well, technically not the last thing they did. The last thing was his head between her thighs, he nails scraping his scalp as she moaned his name and he tasted her and then was swiftly pushed away after. He'd never felt a stronger stab in the heart then being the utter panic and tears streaming down her face as she kept pushing him away. And all he has been thinking about since that night is what he did wrong and the way her lips pressed against his and how she tasted and God those sweet sounds she made—

Yeah, Steve has not been having a good time since that night on May 31st.

And a long, long month later, Steve still finds himself still kicking himself for that last interaction. He hadn't said anything to how he felt. He just took and pushed and made her push him away. But he was just so in awe of her and the way she stood up for him and herself against Tommy. That had never happened to him before.

He meant what he told her that he felt like he deserved that treatment due to his past behavior. He'd been an ass for a lot of high school just to be seen as cool. And now...now he's just a loser at an ice cream shop who ruins everything. 

That's all Steve can think as he sits in the break room at scoops on June 31st. His temple rests against his folded arms on the desk, staring at a blank spot on the wall. "Slipping Through My Fingers" is playing through his Walkman's headphones. A half eaten sandwich rests right in front of him, as well as a piece of paper, a letter, half written and most scribbled out to Dove. The sad song only adding to his misery Steve thinks about changing out ABBA's "The Visitors" tape out of his Walkman but he just can't bring himself to since Dove was the one to put it in there and—

Holy shit Steve, get a grip on yourself.

But the song makes him think about her and maybe that's what he wants! Not like he needs much help thinking about Dove, it's all he thinks about since that night.

And it doesn't help that neither of them have written to each other like they promised they would. Steve tells himself it's because she needs space and he should respect that and she'll reach out when she's ready. If she's ever ready, if she ever wants to talk to him again. The hope of her wanting to speak to him ever again fades with everyday no letter is sent to him. 

No communication from the person he'd spent the last 8 months talking to everyday. And it's all his fault.

God, Harrington, you might actually be a fuck up.

The idea of a distraction and moving on has been something bouncing around his mind this month. So he told himself in the middle of June he'd try and be charming, play boy Steve again in hopes of silencing the guilt inside of him. So girls who come into the shop he smiles and flirts and tries to bring back that part of him that enjoyed the game of flirting and winning a girl again. Maybe he could score a date and get his mind off of the total self destructive act he did. 

By June 31st, he has struck out every single time he has tried wooing a girl. An act that used to be so easy for him! Yet even though he's flirting and trying, a new guilt fills him as he tries to think about distracting himself with a physical act with some poor girl who doesn't deserve that.

He's not that guy anymore—not after Nancy and especially not after Dove.

So he strikes out more times he can count. Well, his new coworker Robin Buckley can count. She's tallied every win and loss under her very affectionately labeled columns of "You Rule" and "You Suck". Six are tallied under "You Suck" and zero are tallied under "You Rule".

Whatever, it's the stupid sailor hat. It covers his best feature. It's definitely not the fact he spends his break staring at a wall listening to ABBA and writing love letters to a girl who hates him. 

Along with June being a time for Steve's own self torment, but he's had to wallow in it alone. Just a week after Dove left town, Dustin had left for stupid science camp. So now, he's left slinging ice cream and dealing with Mike Wheeler's attitude when him and the other little shits want to see a movie for free. Well, not all of them are little shits...Lucas is cool and Max (while relentless bullying him) is a good time. Will is also really sweet and says "please" and "thank you" and has actually taken time to say that to Steve when he's let them in. So yeah, it's just Mike Wheeler who's the little shit. 

But at least he's not totally stuck with upcoming freshmen as friends. Robin has been a decent source of entertainment. Sure she's a little weird and a previous version of him wouldn't be caught dead with her but he's passed that now. 

So his days are filled with this stupidly over saturated mall, Mike Wheeler, Robin Buckley and his own self deprecating misery.

At least Dustin is supposed to be any day now.

And so is Dove.

That thought churns something in his stomach. A thought that used to make his stomach erupt with butterflies in joyful anticipation now starts to flutter with anxiety. He knew he couldn't not see her again. He thinks he'd probably fall ill if he succumbed himself to that fate after he's needed her like air in the past couple of months. Dramatic, yes, he's aware but that's the effect Dove Jones has on him. From January 22nd until graduation, the practically saw each other every day. 

All of it leading to the breaking point on tension that night in her room.

He tastes a faint metallic taste of blood as he practically chews off the inside of his bottom lip. His leg bounces as he moves from his head resting on his crossed arms to covering his face with his palms. 

Surely it's the song making him feel this emotional.

Thoughts of Dove returning keep filling his mind as he tries to think of what the hell he would even say to her. Does she even want to see him? Is that something she wants after what happened? Was that why she pushed him out, because she never liked him like that? But...he knew what he saw, he knew what he felt, that tension and connection was undeniable...right?

“Is he here?”

Steve's tunes into the rest of the world when that familiar voice fills his ears. ABBA has stopped filling his ears and the Walkman clicks as the tape ends. He doesn't need to hear anything else from that voice though before he's throwing off the headphones and pushing open the backroom door to the front of the ice cream shop.

“Henderson!” Steve cheers, breaking into a skip towards the boy. “Henderson! He’s back!”

“I’m back! You got the job!” Dustin congratulates him, throwing his arms out wide as if presenting the place.

“I got the job!” Steve echoes, making a fake trumpet sound with his mouth and holding his hands up like the instrument.

They do their secret handshake, pretending to duel with lightsabers and stab each other, laughing the whole time. At least Steve’s summer is getting a little better now that his friend is back from camp. A good distraction, a great one actually.

“How many children are you friends with?” Robin asks from behind the counter, unimpressed. 

Steve huffs and shakes his head, gesturing toward Robin while giving Dustin a look that clearly says, you see the shit I have to deal with.

Steve ushers Dustin over to the counter, offering to make him a treat before prompting him to tell him all about camp. Dustin does so with the biggest smile on his face as he rattle on about the cool things he built and learned while away. He explains all the things he brought back to make a super radio tower as Steve hands him the sundae. Finally, when they make it over to a both, Dustin starts about his new girlfriend, Suzie, who is apparently hotter than Phoebe Cates.

“No, no way,” Steve argues as Dustin happily shovels ice cream into his mouth. “Hotter than Phoebe Cates? No.”

“Mm-hmm,” Dustin hums around a mouthful of ice cream. “Brilliant, too. And she doesn’t even care that my real pearls are still coming in. She says kissing is better without teeth.”

Steve blinks at him, almost smiling, nodding in disbelief. He fights the facial reaction he feels his he's contorting into because no way a girl said that. Especially not at fourteen. Fourteen year old girls are mean, even he was the butt of some of their joke in middle school.

Still, he straightens and tries to respond appropriately. “Wow. Yeah. That’s great. Proud of you, man.” He fumbles through the rest. “That’s ro… um. That’s kind of romantic. That’s like… wow.”

Then the disbelief contorts into something else as Steve realizes that Dustin had his first kiss. A bit of older brother pride swells in his chest.

Dustin just hums again, smiling down at his ice cream. “So do you really get to eat as much of this stuff as you want?” he asks, gesturing to the sundae.

“Yeah, I mean, sure,” Steve answers honestly. “Not really a good idea for me, though. You know, I gotta keep in shape for the, uh, ladies.”

Steve cringes at himself internal at the comment. Who was he kidding? He knew Dustin could read right through him and he also knew Dustin was (somewhat) aware of what happened between him and Dove. Because he told him. 

Now any girl Steve looks at with blonde hair or curls will just morph into Dove and Steve feels sick.

“Yeah, and how’s that working out for you?” Dustin asks, taking another bite.

Dustin's brows are raised in that knowing why that reminds Steve he probably could never really lie to the kid. Dustin knows a little more then he probably should because as much as Steve tries not to gossip or share those intimate details, Dustin's smart and can understand they probably did more then just kiss based on Steve's demeanor when they talked about it. Of course, confiding in his fourteen-year-old best friend about being thrown out of a girls room because she was sobbing was new for him. Hell, it was new for Dustin. But he could sit there and listen to Steve as he explained how much he regretted not staying and trying to find out what was wrong.  

Instead, he panicked and left because he did not know what to do.

“Yeah, Steve. How’s that working out for you?” Robin asks, appearing behind them after finishing wiping down the counter.

Steve spins around, flips her off, then turns back to Dustin. “Ignore her.”

“She seems cool,” Dustin says.

"She's not."

There's a beat, then Dustin asks the question Steve has been expecting from him, “So, have you talked to Dove at all?”

If there was one person Dustin Henderson adored as much as Steve, is was Dove Jones (and it was most defiantly not because he had a crush on her that he made Steve swear to take to his grave with as a secret (spoiler alert, he told Dove the following week after Dustin told him)). But Dustin just wanted to see his two older friends happy. He wanted to see Steve happy after the moping he watched when Nancy broke up with him (Steve did not inform Dustin of the circumstances that surrounded the breakup with Nancy to preserve his view of her). All that to say, Dustin felt like he had a personal mission to get them together.

After all, he has seen them stare at the other when they're not looking with hearts practically coming out of their eyes.

“I’m giving her space. Letting her decide when it’s the right time to talk to me. You know, being cool.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yep. Playing it very cool.”

“How’s that working out for you?”

Awful. Terrible. The worst experience of my life.

“Fine.”

“You’re such a liar,” Dustin laughs. “Just talk to her. I’m sure she wants to hear from you. You guys are like best friends. I mean, I'm your best friend so she's like close second so actually maybe you guys are more like my Aunt Judith and the guy she's been bringing around for years who she swears is "just her friend" but mom and I see the way she looks at him."

Steve blinks at Dustin blankly. "I'm not even sure how to unpack that so I'm just going to ignore it. Where are the other knuckleheads?”

Dustin rolls his eyes and his whole head, mostly at Steve changing the topic of conversation but then let's him as his eye catch that familiar head of bright blonde curls bouncing across the corridor of the mall.

“They ditched me yesterday,” Dustin answers, eyes diverting back down to his ice cream. 

Walking through the crowd in a swift, almost frantic, pace is Dove Jones. 

She has had only one thing on her mind since getting on that plane in New York this morning: she had to find Steve and apologize for what happened. 

Dove is completely aware of her lack off communication with Steve over the past month. It wasn't entirely intentional but she was going through a lot since that night. Every thought she had turned into something worse and she had never felt this voice so loud in her head before. Everything turned sour, no matter what it was. Especially thought's about Steve. So an apology letter or even a phone call didn't feel appropriate. No, she would deal with this the way her mother raised her to. In person and with her head held high, taking accountability for things she did wrong. 

Because they are good friends, best friends even. Those friends don't go kissing each other because the sexual tension got too much. 

Right? 

RIGHT?

She's felt like she's been going crazy for the past month with thoughts of Steve Harrington playing her mind. And now, she's crossed a crazy boundary with her friend who she has been secretly falling for after she promised herself she wouldn't. 

And it's not like they're even compatible, like at all. Like seriously, they have nothing in common! Well except for everything they do have in common. And the fact that everything they do fits well together.

Complimentary, as her aunt had said.

They operated like a well oiled machine when they worked together. Whether that was watching the kids, doing homework together, or even cooking. Oh God is was so domestic Dove could vomit from it. 

How he kept ABBA cassettes in his car just for her and extra Cherry Cokes in his fridge. How he never pressed her to open up more than she wanted to. How he places a hand on her back when they're in a crowd, or walking out a door, or just doing anything. It's maddening how sweet he is and how she just cannot seem to allow herself to have that.

She feels insane now after pushing him out of her room that night. Haunted by the heartbreak written on his face and the voice inside her telling her she was doing the right thing pushing him away. Like it didn't make her spiral the entire month of June in that town house in the East Village. 

And don't even get her started on the nights laying in that guest room where her mind wandered to what it felt like to kiss him. What it felt like to feel those same lips travel down her body and the way they felt as he kissed her thighs and then worked her open with his fingers and made her moan and—

Yeah, Dove did not have the best time in New York City after kicking Steve out of her room on May 31st.

So as Dove rounds a corner and begins to beeline for the ocean themed incense cream parlor where Max informed Dove Steve worked, she goes through every point in her head she came up with on the plane. 

But when she hears Steve say, "What? Seriously?" She finds her feet becoming glued to the ground. 

The only thing that moves is her head, turning to see Dustin facing her in the corner booth with Steve, whose back is to her. She can't place how long she stands there for, but it must be for awhile because all the sudden Dustin exclaims very loudly, "I intercepted a secret Russian communication!"

The entire shop seems to react to that. Conversations stop, heads turn, and everyone looks towards the two in the corner booth.

She watches as Steve frantically looks around as he mutters, “Shh. Yeah. Okay. That’s what I thought you said.”

She hopes and prays Steve doesn't see her in his quick scan of the room but God has a sense of humor obviously when Steve's head turns towards the door.

Her blonde hair is a shade lighter, maybe even a few inches longer. Her red David Bowie t-shirt is tucked into some light-washed denim shorts, and when Steve's eyes pan down to her feet, he sees slouchy white socks coming out of a new pair of white and red Nike's. One's that are strikingly similar to his.

Maybe it's the thought of her wearing something like his that makes his mouth suddenly go dry, or maybe it's just her. Either way, all thoughts leave his head as he just stares at her standing in the doorway. 

Speak up you idiot! Say hello, do something, anything other than gawk at her.

But as Dove's eyes widen slightly, she feels her heart beat start to pick up and move to her throat. Every ounce of courage she built up on the plane and the drive back to Hawkins evaporates and her feet move without her even realizing, sprinting across the mall towards the GAP.

"Dove!" She hears Steve call out after her from entrance but she's already across the mall.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” she mutters as she squeezes herself between clothing racks, gaining a clear line of sight back toward the parlor. “Okay. Spying. Yeah, that’s a great plan, Dove,” she whispers to herself.

In the entrance of Scoops Ahoy, Steve stands dumbfounded after watching her run away. Again.

“What happened to letting her come talk to you when she’s ready?” Dustin says, making Steve's attention turn back to the booth.

Steve lets out a unsatisfied sight, grumbles something mocking Dustin under his breath as he makes his way back to the booth, His eyes do one last scan for a flash on blonde hair. When he comes up empty though, he slumps into the booth, forcing his attention back to Dustin and the weird thing he said before he saw Dove. 

Wait, did he actually say Russians?

“What do you mean you intercepted a secret Russian communication?” 

“It means, Steve, we could be heroes,” Dustin explains, as if it is obvious. “True American hero's.”

The word hero peaks Steve's interest. A hero. Someone who doesn't lose fights and make minimum wage scooping ice cream. Someone who wouldn't sent a damn letter to Dove. No, not now Steve, focus on Dustin.

“Huh, American hero's.”

“Just think,” Dustin continues, sweeping a hand in front of him. “You could have anything you want. Anyone you want. And more.”

“More?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“I like the sound of more,” Steve says, his mind drifting to a version of more where he and Dove figure out what's going on between them and they can go somewhere else that isn't Hawkins. Anywhere. Together. 

But that's a life too good to be true. 

“What’s the catch?”

Dustin perks up as he finally pieces together how he can get Dove and Steve together finally. A Russian communication that they need help translating and Dove, who speak Russian because she is Russian, it's perfect.

“No catch,” Dustin says easily. “I just need your help.”

“With what?”

Dustin unzips his backpack and pulls out a Russian-to-English translation book. One he knows he will not need if everything goes according to plan.

“Translation.”

---------

When Dove finally sees Steve move away from the scoops entrance, she lets out a sigh of relief. To quickly recover from the few on lookers giving her strange looks, she smiles awkwardly before clearing her throat and trying to browse. 

As she riffles through the blouses on the rack, she suddenly slows as she thinks about what she just did. 

Because what the fuck was that? Why was she hiding?

Steve was her friend, is her friend, he wouldn't have been mean to her for what happened. She knew that. All she had to do was walk up to him, apologize, talk it out a bit, and then they could just move on. They could be friends again. Simple, mature, normal, the complete opposite of what she just did.

Why didn't she just do that? Why couldn't she just move on from him like every other guy?

It's not like she keeps thinking about the way his hands held her sides, seemingly feeling like they belonged there. Or the way his thumbs brushed her skin like he was committing the touch to memory. The way his lips pressed against hers so sweetly and the way he tasted. Or the way his mouth pulled sounds out of her she did not recognize as her own. Or the way he kissed down her body so slowly it felt like—

“Dove!”

She startled out of that day dream again when a familiar, excited voice comes barreling towards her. A flash of red hair presses into her but she didn't even need to see that to know it was Max hugging her.

“Oh,” Dove breathes out at the tight squeeze. “Thank God. Hi, Max.”

But just over her shoulder was someone Dove did not expect to see. 

Standing awkwardly in some old jeans and an oversized flannel that Dove was sure belonged to Hopper at some point in time, was Eleven. 

Out of all the kids, she hadn't seen Eleven in the longest. Hopper put her on a bit of a strict look down after Dove's birthday at the beginning of May, where they celebrated at the arcade and then the diner after. Nothing they did was wrong but when some authorities pulled up after kids in the parking lot got in a fight and questioned the group who were sitting inside, Hopper got a little antsy. If he had been there then maybe it would have been fine but...yeah Hopper was very protective of Eleven so Dove had not seen her since that night. 

"I'm so happy to see you guys," Dove beams, pushing all thoughts of Steve away as she looks at the two girls. 

Eleven smiles shyly at Dove, pulling on her fingers as she looks around nervously. 

"El, I'm sure you're happy Hop let you out of the cabin for a bit, yeah?"

Eleven's eyes widen just a fraction before Max links arms with her, making her stand in front of Dove with her.

“Yeah, well. El’s having some… issues with Mike. So I decided today was a girls’ day.”

Dove smiles again, watching as El nods solemnly with the red head. 

"Mike being an asshole again?" Dove asks.

"As always," Max deadpans, nudging El with her hip to make her laugh. She does and it's an adorable sound that makes Dove's heart grow three sizes. She and Steve both have taken a different kind of liking to Eleven, both protective over her like Hopper but they've talked about the feeling of something else settling in them every time she's around. Sympathy or understanding, they're both weren't sure which but Eleven felt different to them then the other kids.

“Well a girls day is a perfect remedy for an asshole boyfriend,” Dove says. “Do I get to join, or is this a closed club?”

“We’d love that,” Max says immediately, grabbing Dove hand and pulling both girls with her deeper into the store.

Eleven wanders off first, carefully flipping through hangers like each piece of clothing requires serious consideration.

Dove and Max start browsing too, Dove leaning a little closer as she lowers her voice.

“So,” she says, glancing toward Eleven, “How’d you convince Hopper to let her out of the cabin?”

There's a tense beat before Max mutters, “Um, I didn’t.”

“Max….” Dove says softly, not at all wanting to feel the wrath of the chief of police.

“It’s fine, Dove, she’s been allowed to come hang out with us so much more this summer and he doesn’t even need to know,” Max says, giving her a reassured look but holding in the part that Eleven had a strict curfew and was definitely not allowed at the mall since it opened.

Dove sighs, not wanting to ruin the fun of a girls day she rarely gets to have with the young tweens. “Fine, fine, ok fine, but if Hopper finds out, I was never here, okay?”

Max smiles, “You were never here.”

Dove returns the grin, moving over to another rack closer to Eleven before stating, “Alright first rule of girls day is, no boys allowed, obviously.”

Max snorts, "Obviously, that’s what we’re trying to get away from.”

“And rule number two,” Dove continues, picking up a questionable shirt and holding it up, "We try on whatever we want no matter how crazy it is."

The girls laugh at that looking at the outrageously bright colored shirt before Dove shoves it back onto the rack.

"And finally, the last thing I'll say before we kick this off," Dove starts, turning to both the girls again. "If a boy makes you feel all weird and like—” she moves her hands up and waves them around her head “—crazy, then you remember to breathe and remember that you're smarter then him, he's a boy.”

El laughs at that. Dove doesn't exactly need to know what Mike did to piss El off but the statement she made stands true. They're not her words exactly, they came from her Aunt after she finally cracked and told her what happened that night before she left. Still, Dove was feeling crazy.

Max raises an eyebrow. “Is that a personal rule?”

“Extremely,” Dove says without missing a beat.

Their attention shifts when Eleven stops in front of a blue button-up splattered with paint, staring at it with clear longing.

Dove steps up beside her, crossing her arms as she looks at the shirt. It is colorful, not something she would personally wear, but she is not the one looking at it like it’s the coolest thing she’s ever seen.

“Do you like that?” Max asks, moving to Eleven’s other side.

“How do I know… what I like?” Eleven asks, glancing between them.

“You just try things on,” Max shrugs.

“Until you find something that feels like you,” Dove adds, reaching for one of the shirts beneath the display and holding it out to Eleven.

“Like me?”

“Yeah, like you,” Max says. “Not like Hopper. Or Mike. Just you.”

Eleven smiles at the shirt, taking it eagerly, and then the real fun begins.

They start gathering anything that makes Eleven smile, piling clothes into their arms. In the dressing room, they watch Eleven try everything on, each piece brighter than the last. Dove smiles as Max and Eleven giggle, especially when Eleven struggles into suspenders.

Dove happily pays for the outfits, especially the one Eleven insists on wearing out of the store. A black romper covered in bright, colorful shapes. Eleven walks confidently ahead of them, Max beside her with new red sunglasses perched on her nose.

She laughs as Max and Eleven tug her into Flash Studio. She watches them pose dramatically in the provided outfits, smiling at how much fun they are having. When the photographer tells them to change, Max drags Dove into the next set, throwing an eccentric jacket over her shoulders and pulling her into the photos.

Next, they wander into a shoe store, Max insisting Eleven needs to try heels. “Every girl has to experience it at least once.”

White socks and all, Eleven slips into the most colorful heels Dove has ever seen. Yellow dominates them, with blue, red, and green blocks scattered throughout. Dove giggles as she helps Eleven stand, holding one hand while Max takes the other.

“El, I don’t want to rain on your parade, but these are the craziest heels I’ve ever seen,” Dove laughs as they help her wobble forward. “I saw some wild ones in the city, but heels suck. I had to wear them almost every day at my internship and it was the worst.”

Max and Eleven giggle, and then Eleven pulls her hands free. “I can do it.”

She says it a second too soon and topples forward.

“Oh shit,” Dove laughs, moving quickly with Max to help Eleven up, who is already laughing just as hard.

When they turn back, they notice a group of girls near the wall staring at them, lips curled in judgment. Their laughter fades for a moment. The three girls roll their eyes before looking away from them.

Then Dove and the girls burst out laughing again.

Later, in the food court, Max spots the same girls. She leans toward Eleven, whispering something before looking at Dove. “Watch this.”

They stack behind a pillar, Eleven in front, Max behind her, Dove bringing up the rear. Dove furrows her brows, looking down just as Eleven’s head jerks back.

At the same moment, one of the girls’ drinks explodes, liquid splashing everywhere.

Oh yeah. Eleven has superpowers. Dove forgot about that.

The three of them duck away, laughing hard. “Okay, come on, let’s go,” Dove says, pulling them along.

As they run, Max looks at Eleven and says, “See? What did I tell you? There’s more to life than stupid boys.”

Dove smiles at that, heart lifting as she remembers saying the same thing to Max when she and Lucas broke up the second time. They got back together a week later, but still. Dove had reminded her that her world did not have to revolve around him.

“But he’s my boyfriend,” Max had argued.

“Yeah,” Dove had said, sipping her milkshake, “but you can have your own life too. Just because he’s fun doesn’t mean he has to be your whole life.”

Thinking back on her own words, she feels a bit like a hypocrite. Steve still occupies most of her thoughts. His smile. His laugh. His stupid hair. His stupid jokes. His stupidly soft hands and the way they felt in hers. His stupid lips that made her feel so—

God really does have a sense of humor. Because as those thoughts she was lost in come to an end, she realizes where she's been dragged into next.

Scoops Ahoy.

And standing right in front of her was the guy who she had run away from again just a few hours ago.

Steve was back in the front of the store now, after spending about an hour in the back with Dustin, listening to the Russian language over and over again. He still insisted that the music sound familiar but Dustin wasn't having it. Robin was now back there helping translate.

She claimed she was bored and she spoke a couple of languages and her ears were “trained to hear anything”. She seemed to be getting more done then Steve was so he’ll take it. But now, he kinda wishes he was still back there.

Because now he’s standing face to face with Dove. Anything he thought about saying to her was completely gone as his brain short circuits and all words become stuck in his throat.

He didn't expect to see her again today. Especially not while he's still in this stupid uniform.

His mind flashes through their last night together as her green eyes meet his brown ones. Her lips, her moans, her fingers in his hair, the taste of—

“Hello?” Max waves a hand in front of Steve’s face.

Steve spas out of his trance, a faint blush raising to his cheeks as he tries to act normal.

“He-hey, guys what can I get you?” His eyes widen, feeling the weight of the stupid hat on his head before he reaches up and throws it off.

Max rolls her eyes before saying, “We need a strawberry and a vanilla with sprinkles and extra whipped cream.” She gestures between her and Eleven. “And whatever Dove wants.”

Dove clears her throat to tell him her order but Steve is already moving. She watches as his biceps flex under the blue uniform he's in as he scoops the ice cream into the cones. She so distracted by it she doesn't even notice how he scoops her favorite until he's handing it to her.

“Here you guys go,” Steve hands the two for Max and Eleven to them before moving to hand Dove hers. “And one triple chocolate “something something” for you.”

Dove can’t help the blush that raises to her cheeks as Steve hands the waffle cone to her. Their fingers brush when she grabs it from him and quickly pulls away.

Max smiles slightly before locking arms with El saying, “You got this Dove? Great, okay, bye!” Before taking off leaving Dove stranded with Steve.

“Max!” Dove calls after the girl. She turns back to Steve letting out a little laugh before reaching into her pocket for the cash she had.

“No, no, don’t worry about it,” Steve assures her, waving his hand at the money she tries to hand him.

"No, let me pay for it, seriously Steve."

"No can do, Wonder Woman," he says, smiling that same boyish smile he always has as he slips back into their easy banter. 

Dove chuckles ever so slightly before taking the five in her hand and shoving it into the tip jar. Her gaze stays down as she tries to think about either how to get out of this conversation or just man up and say everything she's been stirring on the past month. 

“Is Eleven even allowed to be here?” Steve asks, pulling her gaze back to him. 

Dove opens her mouth, then closes it again, pulling her shoulders up as she smiles awkwardly. Her voice pitches a little higher when she says, “Maybe?”

That makes them both laugh, the tension lightening as his sweet laughter fills the air. There's another stretch of silence that Dove knows she should use to speak up, a spark of courage surging through her. Of course, Steve speaks at the same time as her though.

“I’m sorry.”

They laugh again as they interrupt each other.

“You first,” Steve says, arms leaning against the counter. He looks so funny in his sailor uniform but Dove decides not to make fun of him in the moment for it.

As she opens her mouth to speak, the window behind him slides open, and Robin appears.

“We’ve got our first sentence.”

Steve looks back to the window and moves a step closer to it, “Oh, seriously?”

“Yeah,” Robin nods. She continues in a decent Russian accent. “The week is long.”

“Well, that’s thrilling,” Steve deadpans.

“Sorry, why did she do that in a Russian accent?” Dove asks, looking past Steve to Robin.

The two of them look at each other and now it's Steve’s turn to get interrupted. He goes to open his mouth and explain but gets cut off by Dustin running out of the back room.

“Dove, thank God you’re here,” Dustin exclaims, coming around from behind the counter, grabbing Dove’s hand and pulling her back with him. “This is going to go so much faster.”

“What is?”

“Translation.”

“And why is Dick-biting Dove going to be better at translation than me,” Robin asks, once all four of them are standing in the back.

“Hey, not cool,” Steve smacks Robin's arm for saying the nickname.

“Because she is Russian!” Dustin exclaims going back to the tape recorder on the table.

“Yeah, but I don’t know how well my translation is going to be,” Dove responds, sitting down at the table, looking at the note pad and book open. “I’m sorry, why am I translating?”

“See, Robin,” Steve says to the shirt haired girl. “Someone who actually speaks Russian, not pig-whatever.”

“Pig-latin,” Robin, Dove, and Dusitn say at the same time.

“Whatever,” Steve mutters, crossing his arms.

“You’re translating a secret Russian communication I intercepted,” Dustin explains as he grabs the tape recorder, playing the message.

Dove reaches over and stops the tape before he can continue playing it, “Right, Dustin, I get that, but why?”

“So we can be American hero's.”

Dove stares at him blankly for a second, thinking about the statement. “Okay, continue.”

That was how Dove ended up spending the rest of the day translating a secret Russian message.

She thought it would be awkward at first but things seemed to fall completely back to how they were before between her and Steve. Of course it wasn't just the two of them in that back room, Dustin and Robin were also there. But it was nice to be back with Dustin and Steve doing something crazy Dustin deemed important. 

Those crazy things before though were usually him trying to dig into the dimension that lived below them and while yes, it wasn't encouraged to be doing so, Dove couldn't help but be fascinated by the lore they were discovering.

Again, hours passed as Dove tried to understand the scratchy message and help translate. It went a lot faster with her than when it was just the three others, Robin told her. That would be the case though, since she almost speaks Russian fluently. She just wishes that the recording was clearer, she probably could've figured it out in two listens. 

But obviously this wasn't just a normal sentence so the Russian to English translation wasn't that straight forward. At least for her, her Russian was more causal and less polished. 

When Steve and Robin finished closing and the four of them left the parlor, the mall was empty. No sunlight filtered through the skylights, and the storefronts cast weak shadows across the walkways.

“It just can’t be right,” Steve says as he pulls the gate of the shop down, locking it when it reaches the bottom.

“Oh, it’s right,” Dove says, crossing her arms as she looks at Steve kneeled on the ground. “Are you questioning my Russian?”

“No, no, I’m not questioning shit,” Steve sighs standing up. “It’s just ‘The week is long, the silver cat feeds, when blue meets yellow in the west’ doesn’t exactly make sense.”

“Honestly, I think it’s great news,” Dustin interjects.

“How is this great news? So much for being American heroes.” Steve walks up next to Dove on the end of the line they’re walking in. “It’s totally nonsense.”

“It’s not nonsense. It’s too specific, it’s obviously a code,” Dustin reasoned to the older teens that he walked with.

“What do you mean, a code?” Steve asked, his steps were slowed now and he’d fallen behind the three others now.

“Like a super secret spy code,” Dustin continued to explain, now looking back at Steve.

“That’s a total stretch,” Steve responded.

“Is it though?” Dove said, shrugging. She met Steve’s eyes briefly, then looked away before her face could betray her.

“You’re buying into this?” Steve asked her, raising an eyebrow.

Dove shrugged, looking to Robin to see what she thought.

“Listen, just for kicks,” Robin began, walking backwards to look at them. “Let’s entertain the possibility that it is a secret Russian transmission. What did you think it was gonna say, ‘fire the warhead at noon?’”

Dove nodded in agreement along with Dustin saying "Exactly."

“And my translation is correct,” Dove added, confident in her own work.

“So…‘the silver cat feeds’, why would anyone talk like that unless they were hiding the true meaning of their message?” Robin asked, it was more rhetorical though, trying to get the point across to Steve.

“Exactly,” Dove and Dustin say together.

“And to add to that, why would anyone mask the true meaning of their message unless the message was somehow sensitive?” Dove continued, turning to Robin who was now facing the same direction as them. “So this, unfortuantely, confirms the stereotype…”

“Evil Russians,” Dustin and Robin say at the same time.

“I can’t believe I am agreeing with this strange child but yeah, evil Russian,” Robin laughed.

“So, how do we crack it?” Dustin asked, looking at the two girls and Steve.

“Well, we can translate the rest and hope that a pattern emerges,” Dove answered after thinking for a second.

The last part was the hardest to translate due to the music playing in the back and the recording not being the best, it got a little muddy.

“A pattern, right, like maybe ‘silver cat’ is a meeting place?” Dustin suggested.

While the three of them talked, Steve thought back again to the music that played in the recording. It was so familiar, he had heard it recently. But where? Where had he heard it? Was it on the radio? No. A movie? Maybe.

Steve could barely hear them as they continued to talk, his mind thinking about the music and watching the back of Dove, unashamedly checking her out. They were listing off things of what ‘silver cat’ could be. Robin says something he vaguely catches about needing to be a genius to crack the code.

As they continued to walk, Steve trailing behind them, he let his eyes wander from Dove’s frame, feeling ashamed all the sudden for looking at her ass. Then drifting over to the store fronts, where his eyes catch something that makes it all click.

Reaching into his pockets, he tries to fish out his wallet and any tips he received from the day, frantically looking for a quarter as he kneels in front of the mechanical horse.

“Steve,” Robin called back once the three of them noticed Steve wasn’t right behind them anymore. “What are you doing?”

“Uh…” Steve stumbled, dropping coins from his hands as he noticed none of them were quarters. “It needs a quarter, I need- Do you have a quarter?” His eyes were mainly on Dove when he spoke, he couldn’t help that little subconscious trait he carried.

Dove reached into her pockets, fishing out her coin purse and running to meet Steve at the toy horse.

“Sure you’re tall enough for that ride?” Robin smirked.

“Here,” Dove said, tossing him a quarter once she was close enough.

“Thanks.” Steve dropped to his knee again and placed the quarter into the machine, starting it up.

As the horse began to move in its circular motion, music started to play, very familiar music.

“Holy shit,” Dove said, moving closer to Steve.

“Need help getting up, little Stevie?” Robin continued to mock the brunette who just shushed him, Dove doing the same.

“Would you two just shut up and listen?” Steve said, looking at Dustin and Robin who were beginning to giggle.

As the music played, Dove excitedly slapped Steve’s shoulder exclaiming, “Holy shit, Steve! That’s it, that's the song that plays!”

“Holy shit,” Dustin echoed, taking his backpack off his back and pulling out the recorder, pressing play and allowing the music to sync up with the one playing in front of them.

“I don’t understand,” Robin said, her hip popped, looking at the three of them with a confused stare.

"It's the same song on the recording,” Dustin explained.

“Maybe they have horses like this in Russia,” Robin argued.

“Indiana Flyer?” Steve read off the front box where he placed the quarter. “I don’t…I don’t think so.”

“So that means…” Dove began, piecing together all the information. “This code didn’t come from Russia?”

“It came from here,” Steve finished, confirming the thoughts Dove was thinking.

“Holy Shit.”

There’s a crash from down the corridor, sending a shiver up everyone’s spine.

“Okay, let’s get out of here. I think this building is, like, haunted or something after dark,” Steve says, standing and guiding everyone out of the mall.

His hand moves to rest on the small of Dove’s back as he guides her out, a subconscious act. When they start to pick up the pace, Steve drops his hand, realizing the touch might not be wanted anymore. Was it ever wanted?

The chill stays with Dove even after his hand leaves, and she quietly swallows the lump in her throat when he pulls away so quickly.

The warm summer air envelops them as they exit the mall. Dove feels the humidity and knows her hair will puff up at any moment. It’s a nice summer night, a stark contrast to the ones she had been experiencing in New York the past month.

“Well, see you guys tomorrow to uncover the rest of this mystery,” Robin says, sliding her helmet on and giving them a mock salute. She hops onto her bike, pedaling away as the others call out their goodbyes.

Dove and Steve’s cars aren’t parked too far from each other—same lot, but about four lanes apart. They stand between them, Dustin awkwardly lingering as the two older teens look anywhere but at each other: the night sky, their shoes, anything.

Dustin huffs, ever irritated by the fact that neither of them will just do something about their feelings. It’s easy. Simple. She likes him. He likes her. They literally do everything together. Steve looks at her with heart eyes when she does anything. It does not make sense to him why they won’t do something.

He has to do something now. Anything to get them to talk. Maybe this whole American hero mission will push them to finally say something—maybe even act on it. But right now, this is their chance to talk alone, maybe even confess how they feel after that night. So as much as he wants to stay and listen, he knows he has to remove himself.

“I’m gonna go wait in the car,” Dustin says, grabbing Steve’s keys and heading toward the BMW.

For the first time since that, Dove and Steve are alone.

Steve watches the curly-haired kid for a moment before turning back to Dove, offering an awkward smile. Suddenly his mouth felt very dry and scared as he looked at the green eyed girl. Every question he thought of asking, every thought he’s had since that night has completely vanished from his brain as he stands face to face with her.

“So, uh…” He wipes his palms on his shorts, hoping the sweat will go away as he searches for the words. God, this is hard. “Your hair looks nice. Did you get it done?”

Smooth, Harrington.

Dove smiles and grabs the ends of her hair. “Yeah, yeah. My aunt insisted. Said I needed a new look for the city.” She did it to help Dove feel better after the… incident with Steve.

“Cool. Cool.”

This is so weird. Dove doesn’t understand why she feels so… stupid. She shouldn’t have acted on her emotions that night, no matter how badly she wanted to.

Steve hates the feeling of being rejected by her; she had never made him feel like that before. And he wants nothing more than to have her back, even if it’s just as a friend.

“Listen, I—”

“I’m sorry.”

The laughter they share eases the awkwardness a bit.

She takes a deep breath before finally coming out with it, "Listen, Steve, I'm sorry about what happened. I shouldn't have crossed that line. I mean, we're friends and you know the kiss and everything that was just...heat of the moment."

She feels her heart beat faster at the lie, swallowing the lump that's forming as she continues. 

"You know, with everything that had been going on with graduation and you know the stress of me leaving and you trying to find a job and then Tommy, it was...it was just a lot. And I was just being stupid and I didn't mean to ruin things between us because you're like my best friend."

Steve feels his heart drop at her words but...it's an out. An easy out, all he has to do is agree with her and that it was the heat of the moment. They can continue their friendship unchanged. He can keep her ion his life. 

But does he want it unchanged? 

He swallows past that last thought and the ache in his chest. “Yeah, yeah. Totally. I, uh… I get it.”

“You do?”

“Totally, yeah.”

It's such a lie. And though the word regret wasn't spoke, he feels it stir between them because that's what it seems like she feels. But how could he ever regret that night? How could he regret finally getting to do something he'd been dreaming of since...well really since the moment they met in that junkyard. He always found himself going to her when things were hard and he needed someone one. She became his guiding light. His angel. 

Now he's stuck in the friend zone again, and that's a gut punch he didn't realize he wasn't ready for, 

“So,” Dove says carefully, “we’re good? Friends?” She holds out her pinky.

Steve reaches out and links his with hers. “Yeah. Friends.”

Because he’d rather be just her friend than lose her entirely.

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Taglist:

@amterasuu @ild4a @stilinskisensation @muffinbrown @huls1408

comment if you want to be added!!!

[mily-writes-stuff]

rewritten and much more enjoyable now :)

[mily-writes-stuff]

If Chapter 4 Savior Complex!Steve heard this song, I think he’d combust.

TikTok - Make Your Day

[mily-writes-stuff]

Savior Complex Excerpt

'kay so if you read savior complex, you should know I'm going back and rewriting previous chapters cause the story has evolved and I couldn't let it be like it was in the beginning anymore.

anywho this is an exert from chapter four "The Graduation Party" and I think this scene is so much better now then it was before and had to share it on it's own.

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(to set the scene if you don't know or don't remember, Dove and Steve have just graduated and are at a classmates graduation party on Lover's Lake)

The dock is long as it is wide and sometimes they feel the thudding of feet as someone launches themselves in the water off of one side close to the ladder. The two of the sit on the end, far enough away that they can talk to each other. They sit side by side, legs dangling in the water just up to their calves. Dove laughs when a boat comes by and sends small waves of water up, dampening Steve's rolled up jeans. 

It's the first time all evening Dove has gotten Steve alone. When they arrived everyone had stopped him with some comment or story of something. Which was fine, great even. Dove was happy Steve hadn't been completely outcasted from the his prior social life. But God was it annoying just standing behind him as someone slurred out "Duuude! D'ya member that party you threw in '83 where the cops got called? Man that S'wild!"

But finally, after what felt like hours (in reality it was only 57 minutes to get from the front door to the backyard) Dove finally had a moment with Steve. Their hands rest on the dock between them, pinkies barely touching. They laugh as Michelle Wilson launches herself into the water fully clothed with Matthew. 

It's fun. They've enjoyed sitting here people watching and the few people that stopped and said hi to Dove from the volleyball team had been enjoyable. But now she had plans, or an idea of plans, or...okay well she's not really sure what she wants to happen now, she's been going back and forth in her mind on what to do. It's starting to make her dizzy. And then Steve smiles that stupid boyish smile making her more dizzy and the breeze sends the smell of him to her senses and—

“Hey! Harrington!” a voice calls from the backyard.

Dove stomach sinks in disappointment as the alone time she had very clear plans for (obviously) were suddenly interrupted. That feeling quickly shifts though when she twists to look behind them to see the culprit in calling Steve's name.

Tommy Hagan runs from the yard and bounds down the dock, his footsteps echoing against the wood as he approaches. Dove watches Steve fight an eye roll before plastering on that charming, king Steve smile. 

“Hey, man. What’s up?”

“We’re about to do a keg stand and wanted to see if you would join?” Tommy asks, squatting down behind where Dove and Steve sit on the dock. “I know you want to reclaim that title one more time since Hargrove took it on Halloween. You know, unless you're too busy with your new...friend.”

Ugh.

Dove fights her own eye roll at the stupid smirk on Tommy's face. She'd been listening to him poke Steve since Christmas about his new "friends". He'd caught them one time outside of the arcade, which is located right next to family video (conveniently where Tommy and Carol get their movie for their own Friday date nights), and spread it around the whole school that King Steve could only become friends with thirteen year olds since his fall from grace. Then of course came the jokes about him needing to get some from Dick-Biting Dove because Nancy Wheeler dumped him for Jonathan Byers and, ugh Dove can't even think about it it pisses her off so much. 

Tommy Hagan is an asshole who just wanted to stay at the top of the food chain when it came to popularity. Billy Hargrove seem to be his best friend now but he and Steve had been friends for years before Billy came into town so Dove suspects this is his last attempt to try and rekindle something with him. She can admire that in principle, but he's still a stupid prick in her eyes.

But then Dove watches as Steve's eyes flicker between her and Tommy, a small smile rising on his lips before saying "No thanks, man."

Tommy gives him an unimpressed look before chucking and lightly punching Steve's shoulder. 

“Come on, Steve. You’re really gonna go out being friends with a bunch of thirteen-year-olds and dick-biting Dove?”

Dove watches Steve’s jaw clench. She watches him mull over the responses in his head and sucking in his bottom lip. 

“Oh my god,” Dove interjects before Steve can say something in her defense. “Is this you trying to win Steve back? After months of making fun of him and kissing Billy's ass?”

Tommy turns to her and lets out a sharp, annoyed laugh. “Alright, Jones. How about you just keep your mouth shut?”

“You first.”

Tommy shifts toward Dove, a quick movement that makes Steve uncomfortable. His hand reaches out and grips Tommy's shoulder, holding him back from doing anything. 

“Oh, defending the little Russian bird now, huh, Harrington?” Tommy shrugs Steve’s hand off, looking back to Dove. “You know, maybe you and your communist mommy should just go back across the Atlantic, yeah? This continent would be better for it.”

“Tommy, seriously, man,” Steve says, but the words fall flat as Dove’s face flushes red with anger.

If there's one thing that will light a fire inside Dove it's someone bad mouthing her mom. 

"Wow! I'm surprised you even know what a continent is," Dove quips as she stands. She dusts her hands off as well as the back of her overalls. "And you know, at least my mommy actually gave me attention so I didn't latch on to someone else's nipple for attention." 

Steve snorts before he watches Tommy's face flush red with anger, popping up to stand just a few inches taller then Dove. Steve pops up as well, water slushing over the edge of the dock as he moves with haste. 

"Watch it, Jones," Tommy snaps, a finger going into her face. 

Dove looks at it with a raised brow, "Oh and what are you gonna do about it? Call Billy over?"

"Dove," Steve whispers, a little shocked she would say that. Dove's honestly a little shocked she even said it herself. 

"I bet you'd like that wouldn't you, Jones? Bet you'd just love for another dick—"

"Dude," Steve tries to interrupts but Tommy keeps going. 

"To suck 'cause you're just a slut who wants some male attention—"

"Oh I'm a slut?" Dove's voice raises, a finger going into her own chest as she laughs incredulously in his face. "You know what, Tommy? Sure, yeah, I'm a huge fucking slut! You got me! But at least I'm not an asshole latching onto someone else's popularity 'cause he doesn't have a personality."

Tommy moves closer to her, arms crossed, staring her down. Dove's chin tips up, not backing down from the fight. Bark loud.

“You’re a real piece of work, Dove Jones. You know that, right?”

His response makes her laugh.

“Yeah for sure Tommy, but hey, at least my head isn't that far up my own ass."

Tommy's hands come up quick, plating on Dove's shoulders and shoving her backwards into the lake. He laughs loudly as she hits the water and some on lookers who overheard the argument "oohhh" as the splash erupts. 

"Enjoy the slut, Harrington! I'm sure she's nice and ready for you now!" Tommy yells as he walks away. 

By the time Dove surfaces, water sputtering out of her mouth, she's just in time to stop Steve from going after Tommy. 

“Steve!” she yells, stopping him in his tracks before he can pick a fight. “He’s not worth the trouble.”

She can practically see the steam coming out of Steve's ears. That short temper of his being really tested as he looks between Tommy's back and Dove's bobbing head in the lake. HIs chest rises in falls as he slows his breathing, letting out a final huff and walking to the edge of the dock, hand outstretched to help Dove out. 

For a brief second, she considers tugging him in with her, but she decides against it when she notices how far the sun has started to dip below the horizon.

Once she’s back on the dock, she starts wringing out her clothes, hating the way the fabric clings to her skin.

“What an asshole,” Dove laughs as she squeezes the water from her hair.

Steve watches her in silence, his expression unreadable.

“What?” she asks.

Something crosses his face; pride, fondness, and something else? She feels the setting sun on her back, haloing her frame as water dripping from her clothes and hair.

He shakes his head quickly. “Nothing. It’s just… you didn’t have to—”

“Stick up to that prick for you?” she says. “I know. But his voice annoys me, and I couldn’t just let him go on like that.”

"He called you a slut," he practically seethes. 

"Yeah, I heard, it's okay, Steve, not the first time I've heard it," she says, giving him a soft smile. 

It's true, she's heard the name be thrown at her multiple times throughout high school. Since she decided to deny one guy a blowjob and suddenly her sex life became everyone's business.

"But it's not okay," he breathes out, eyes shining as he looks at her. 

"Steve, seriously, you think I was just going to let him talk to you like that? No way," Dove says, twisting the ends over her hair to try and get as much water out as she can. 

His expression stays unreadable when she meets his eyes. 

“Yeah, but you always do that. Like, you stick up for me even though I… don’t necessarily deserve it.”

Dove's heart sinks at the confession. Of course she knew Steve was coming out of his high school royalty haze, she'd seen it happening over the course of the school year. But he'd never really voice how much his prior behavior had affected him.

“I mean, Tommy was my best friend, and I didn’t realize how much of an ass he was until Nancy showed me,” Steve continues. “And then that only came from me and Jonathan Byers fighting, but—” he exhales, huffing out a breath, “—I probably never would’ve fully gotten out of being an asshole if it wasn’t for you. So, uh… thank you. I owe you. Like, a lot.”

Warmth floods her chest, crawling up her neck and over the back of her head. She's blushing, she knows it. Because Dove has known just how much Steve has come to mean to her, but she'd never gotten to hear about how much she's meant to someone else before. And to have that feeling reciprocated, well it just has her staring blankly at him as water droplets fall from her overalls and onto her feet. Each drop feeling heavier as she doesn't respond.

“I, um…”

Say something you idiot, this is something you've always wanted!

“Well… it’s the least I can do. Since you’re always there for everyone else. And the kids. And, uh… me. So, yeah.”

Wow, real articulate there, Dove.

Steve swallows, looks down, then lifts his eyes back to hers. The eye contact makes Dove suddenly aware of how heavy the overalls feel, soaked through and cold. His eyes are soft, almost tender, and she wonders if that is the look she’s been waiting for. Surely not.

She lets out a laugh and turns her head away, breaking the gaze before her heart can race any faster.

“Hey, let’s go get ice cream or something.”

Her suggestion seems to snap Steve out of it. He shakes himself, then nods with a small smile.

“Yeah. Let’s get out of here.”

[mily-writes-stuff]

Savior Complex

pairing: Steve Harrington x OC

word count: 4.3k

summary: There comes a moment when two people like each other and spend too long pretending they don’t, when all the careful distance finally collapses. This is that moment for Dove Jones and Steve Harrington.

warnings: SMUT (oral F!receiving), Slut shaming, disruptions of a panic attack, also like a racist comment from Tommy, Tommy being a dick, self depreicating behavior.

authors note: You guys remember when I said slow burn ish? Here's ish but you'll understand more of the ish soon? It's barely slow burn guys they'd eat me alive on A03 if I tagged this story as slow burn. even tho it happens 18k words in. Anyway hope you guys enjoy!!

chapter 3

masterlist

Chapter 4: The Graduation Party

March ends and April passes in a blur with final examines, spring break, and last minute assignments and suddenly it's May. And then, Steve and Dove are graduating. 

Shiny orange robes cover them and all their classmates as they march across the stage and shake hands with their principal. Whoops and hollers are heard from the crowd as they toss their caps in their air and can finally say goodbye to that chapter of their lives. Dove's whole family is there, her favorite Aunt and Uncle flew in from New York, her siblings and nephew and her grandma. They squeeze her tightly when they approach her and her aunt captures a plethora of pictures.

Just a few yards away she watches Steve with his parents. His dad stiffly shakes his hand and his mom gives something like a hug but it all just looks so...forced. Luckily, Steve's favorite aunt is also there along with his younger cousin. They properly squeeze and congratulate him for his accomplishment before his aunt catches Dove looking at them.

Dove watches as she points over to her and her family, watching Steve's face light up at seeing her and waving her over. Danny and Janet, Steve's mom and dad, stay a safe distance away from Dove and her family when they join Steve and his aunt. Veronica, Dove's mom, hugs Steve tightly as well, pinching his cheek as she always does in congratulations.

Soon, the two unlikely friends are pressed together for a photo. Dove's aunt snaps one on her polaroid and Janet reluctantly takes one on the film camera she has. A picture for each of them.

And through all the excitement and hullabaloo, Dove finds herself falling into that same pit of dread again. She should be excited. Her mom and aunt have lined up a month-long internship for her over the summer. It gives her the chance to try something new, to experience the world outside of Hawkins. A shiny, fancy internship at a publishing firm in New York City. 

New York City, a place she's loved for a long time and longed for more and more as she's gotten older. Every time she visited her aunt and uncle there she longed to stay more. So this is extremely exciting for her! This is an incredibly exciting time in her life where the world is her oyster and she gets to experience it. This is her moment, the moment she's been hoping for to finally quiet that thing inside her that tries to pull her under and make her feel purposeless. This is great for her! At least, it should be.

Because if you asked her how she really felt, past the surface layers of smiles and thank you's, she'd tell you she's dreading it. A heart that's always longed to get the hell away from Hawkins now suddenly has taken root here. After she's gone for a month, she'll inevitably have to go to college (she still hasn't really chosen one, or even really applied but she figures worse comes to worse she can attend Ball State before transferring somewhere bigger if needed). But inevitably going to college means she'll only have a month and a half in Hawkins when she comes back from New York, maybe even less than that. 

A month left with Max who has creeped her way into Dove's heart as not only a friend but a sister. A month left with the boys who she finds herself laughing with and wanting to be around more and more. A month left with Eleven, who was just starting to get to really hang out with her and break out of her shell. A month left with Steve, who stalks Cherry Coke at his house since her mom refuses to buy it. Steve who lets her show up in the middle of the night and makes her grilled cheese. Steve who sneaks through her bedroom window when it's too late to enter through the front door just to talk. Steve who has wormed his way into her heart as someone she finds herself relying on more and more as their friendship grows.

Steve Harrington. God it's stupid. She vowed she would be down with guys. She was done trying to find a Prince Charming in a world of frogs and losers who never really wanted her for more than that notch in their belt. Yet here's Steve, swooping in like some sort of Knight and wooing her against all her internal wishes. Through all of that though, that little part of her that still sees the fairytale in the world wants to see him more. She doesn't want to leave without the chance of maybe getting to fully experience him. 

And yeah, that goes for just friendship as well because she feels like she hasn't had nearly enough time with him. She hasn't gotten to have him enough at the diner where it's just the two of them. She hasn't;t gotten the chance to memorize his warmth when they accidentally press together or the smell of his cologne. How it feels to have his arms wrapped around her in a. crushing hug. Or how it would feel to have his lips pressed on hers, his hands trailing up her waist under her shirt, brushing her sides as his tongue slides—

Okay, whoa, let's not get ahead of ourselves here, Dove.

In the past month those thoughts have plagued her mind more and more as she's desperately tried to push them away. Because yeah, okay maybe she feels something more for him than something platonic (if that wasn't obvious enough), but she likes being friends with Steve. She likes his company...she likes him in a way she's never liked any other boy before. 

Oh God, she's doomed.

When she told him he wasn't special that night in his kitchen, she meant it at the time. She didn't plan for her feelings to turn into this after she tried so hard to fight it. But the crazy trauma they endured and the immense amount of comfort he brings her has suddenly made her yearn for him. And that's incredibly infuriating for her because every other guy she's felt something for and not wanted to she's been able to swallow those feelings so...what about him is so different?

Over the months, she's felt the tension between them growing and growing. A charged air enters the room when their laughter settles or it's just late enough at night. The feeling of warmth from his thigh when they're squished next to each other on a couch. The feeling of knowing if she shifts even slightly when she's next to him, her body would be pressed against his. That carefully calculated, platonic space has slowly started to close over the months and no matter how much they both try to deny it, everyone else sees it. There's a pull, a draw, a need between them that they're both just trying to dance around. 

But she tries to talk herself out of this feeling being reciprocated all the time. A self destructive tendency of not allowing herself something good when it's right in front of her. She knows Steve is still reeling over his breakup with Nancy. She's seen the way his eyes trace her and Jonathan down the hallway when they pass. Or the way he'll go silent when they have to stop by the Wheelers and drop Mike off. She can't blame him for feeling this way, if she was in his place she'd probably feel the same. It's why she's convinced herself and tried to convince others that they need to just stay friends. 

Yet there's still a pang of jealousy that seeps into her Chets like wildfire when she watches Steve's eyes follow Nancy. And that spreads into a desperate, childish want to see him looking at her like that. A longing stare with something soft and loving in it, something she's only seen her parents share before her dad passed.

So she decides she needs to with him, just him, one more time before she leaves for a month. No kids, no exes, no one trying to pull their attention every which way. Just Dove and Steve, hanging out and laughing...and maybe, just maybe, she'd let that part of herself that sees that charged energy and wants her fairytale ending win. 

- 

Matthew Lancaster was throwing a graduation party. The entire class of ’85 was invited, and his house on Lover’s Lake is the perfect spot. Far enough away from town and other houses where they can be as loud as they want without consequence. And the Lancaster's are cool (according to Steve) and that proved true when they headed down to the basement to find cases of beer left for them. Though a note was taped on top saying "If you drink, you sleep here, love Mary Lancaster".

But as that Saturday night grew closer to dusk, newly graduated teens spill out from the house into the backyard. Warm light casts on the grass, the shadows of people dancing across it as the class of '85 runs across it. Laughter and yells fill the early summer air as more of then begin to trickle down to the dock at the end of the yard. 

That’s where Dove and Steve find themselves.

Alone. Kinda. 

The dock is long as it is wide and sometimes they feel the thudding of feet as someone launches themselves in the water off of one side close to the ladder. The two of the sit on the end, far enough away that they can talk to each other. They sit side by side, legs dangling in the water just up to their calves. Dove laughs when a boat comes by and sends small waves of water up, dampening Steve's rolled up jeans. 

It's the first time all evening Dove has gotten Steve alone. When they arrived everyone had stopped him with some comment or story of something. Which was fine, great even. Dove was happy Steve hadn't been completely outcasted from the his prior social life. But God was it annoying just standing behind him as someone slurred out "Duuude! D'ya member that party you threw in '83 where the cops got called? Man that S'wild!"

But finally, after what felt like hours (in reality it was only 57 minutes to get from the front door to the backyard) Dove finally had a moment with Steve. Their hands rest on the dock between them, pinkies barely touching. They laugh as Michelle Wilson launches herself into the water fully clothed with Matthew. 

It's fun. They've enjoyed sitting here people watching and the few people that stopped and said hi to Dove from the volleyball team had been enjoyable. But now she had plans, or an idea of plans, or...okay well she's not really sure what she wants to happen now, she's been going back and forth in her mind on what to do. It's starting to make her dizzy. And then Steve smiles that stupid boyish smile making her more dizzy and the breeze sends the smell of him to her senses and—

“Hey! Harrington!” a voice calls from the backyard.

Dove stomach sinks in disappointment as the alone time she had very clear plans for (obviously) were suddenly interrupted. That feeling quickly shifts though when she twists to look behind them to see the culprit in calling Steve's name.

Tommy Hagan runs from the yard and bounds down the dock, his footsteps echoing against the wood as he approaches. Dove watches Steve fight an eye roll before plastering on that charming, king Steve smile. 

“Hey, man. What’s up?”

“We’re about to do a keg stand and wanted to see if you would join?” Tommy asks, squatting down behind where Dove and Steve sit on the dock. “I know you want to reclaim that title one more time since Hargrove took it on Halloween. You know, unless you're too busy with your new...friend.”

Ugh.

Dove fights her own eye roll at the stupid smirk on Tommy's face. She'd been listening to him poke Steve since Christmas about his new "friends". He'd caught them one time outside of the arcade, which is located right next to family video (conveniently where Tommy and Carol get their movie for their own Friday date nights), and spread it around the whole school that King Steve could only become friends with thirteen year olds since his fall from grace. The of course came the jokes about him needing to get some from Dick-Biting Dove because Nancy Wheeler dumped him for Jonathan Byers and, ugh Dove can't even think about it it pisses her off so much. 

Tommy Hagan is an asshole who just wanted to stay at the top of the food chain when it came to popularity. Billy Hargrove seem to be his best friend now but he and Steve had been friends for years before Billy came into town so Dove suspects this is his last attempt to try and rekindle something with him. She can admire that in principle, but he's still a stupid prick in her eyes.

But then Dove watches as Steve's eyes flicker between her and Tommy, a small smile rising on his lips before saying "No thanks, man."

Tommy gives him an unimpressed look before chucking and lightly punching Steve's shoulder. 

“Come on, Steve. You’re really gonna go out being friends with a bunch of thirteen-year-olds and dick-biting Dove?”

Dove watches Steve’s jaw clench. She watches him mull over the responses in his head and sucking in his bottom lip. 

“Oh my god,” Dove interjects before Steve can say something in her defense. “Is this you trying to win Steve back? After months of making fun of him and kissing Billy's ass?”

Tommy turns to her and lets out a sharp, annoyed laugh. “Alright, Jones. How about you just keep your mouth shut?”

“You first.”

Tommy shifts toward Dove, a quick movement that makes Steve uncomfortable. His hand reaches out and grips Tommy's shoulder, holding him back from doing anything. 

“Oh, defending the little Russian bird now, huh, Harrington?” Tommy shrugs Steve’s hand off, looking back to Dove. “You know, maybe you and your communist mommy should just go back across the Atlantic, yeah? This continent would be better for it.”

“Tommy, seriously, man,” Steve says, but the words fall flat as Dove’s face flushes red with anger.

If there's one thing that will light a fire inside Dove it's someone bad mouthing her mom. 

"Wow! I'm surprised you even know what a continent is," Dove quips as she stands. She dusts her hands off as well as the back of her overalls. "And you know, at least my mommy actually gave me attention so I didn't latch on to someone else's nipple for attention." 

Steve snorts before he watches Tommy's face flush red with anger, popping up to stand just a few inches taller then Dove. Steve pops up as well, water slushing over the edge of the dock as he moves with haste. 

"Watch it, Jones," Tommy snaps, a finger going into her face. 

Dove looks at it with a raised brow, "Oh and what are you gonna do about it? Call Billy over?"

"Dove," Steve whispers, a little shocked she would say that. Dove's honestly a little shocked she even said it herself. 

"I bet you'd like that wouldn't you, Jones? Bet you'd just love for another dick—"

"Dude," Steve tries to interrupts but Tommy keeps going. 

"To suck 'cause you're just a slut who wants some male attention—"

"Oh I'm a slut?" Dove's voice raises, a finger going into her own chest as she laughs incredulously in his face. "You know what, Tommy? Sure, yeah, I'm a huge fucking slut! You got me! But at least I'm not an asshole latching onto someone else's popularity 'cause he doesn't have a personality."

Tommy moves closer to her, arms crossed, staring her down. Dove chin tips up, not backing down from the fight. Bark loud.

“You’re a real piece of work, Dove Jones. You know that, right?”

His response makes her laugh.

“Yeah for sure Tommy, but hey, at least my head isn't that far up my own ass."

Tommy's hands come up quick, plating on Dove's shoulders and shoving her backwards into the lake. He laughs loudly as she hits the water and some on lookers who overheard the argument "oohhh" as the splash erupts. 

"Enjoy the slut, Harrington! I'm sure she's nice and ready for you now!" Tommy yells as he walks away. 

By the time Dove surfaces, water sputtering out of her mouth, she's just in time to stop Steve from going after Tommy. 

“Steve!” she yells, stopping him in his tracks before he can pick a fight. “He’s not worth the trouble.”

She can practically see the steam coming out of Steve's ears. That short temper of his being really tested as he looks between Tommy's back and Dove's bobbing head in the lake. HIs chest rises in falls as he slows his breathing, letting out a final huff and walking to the edge of the dock, hand outstretched to help Dove out. 

For a brief second, she considers tugging him in with her, but she decides against it when she notices how far the sun has started to dip below the horizon.

Once she’s back on the dock, she starts wringing out her clothes, hating the way the fabric clings to her skin.

“What an asshole,” Dove laughs as she squeezes the water from her hair.

Steve watches her in silence, his expression unreadable.

“What?” she asks.

Something crosses his face; pride, fondness, and something else? She feels the setting sun on her back, haloing her frame as water dripping from her clothes and hair.

He shakes his head quickly. “Nothing. It’s just… you didn’t have to—”

“Stick up to that prick for you?” she says. “I know. But his voice annoys me, and I couldn’t just let him go on like that.”

"He called you a slut," he practically seethes. 

"Yeah, I heard, it's okay, Steve, not the first time I've heard it," she says, giving him a soft smile. 

It's true, she's heard the name be thrown at her multiple times throughout high school. Since she decided to deny one guy a blowjob and suddenly her sex life became everyone's business.

"But it's not okay," he breathes out, eyes shining as he looks at her. 

"Steve, seriously, you think I was just going to let him talk to you like that? No way," Dove says, twisting the ends over her hair to try and get as much water out as she can. 

His expression stays unreadable when she meets his eyes. 

“Yeah, but you always do that. Like, you stick up for me even though I… don’t necessarily deserve it.”

Dove's heart sinks at the confession. Of course she knew Steve was coming out of his high school royalty haze, she'd seen it happening over the course of the school year. But he'd never really voice how much his prior behavior had affected him.

“I mean, Tommy was my best friend, and I didn’t realize how much of an ass he was until Nancy showed me,” Steve continues. “And then that only came from me and Jonathan Byers fighting, but—” he exhales, huffing out a breath, “—I probably never would’ve fully gotten out of being an asshole if it wasn’t for you. So, uh… thank you. I owe you. Like, a lot.”

Warmth floods her chest, crawling up her neck and over the back of her head. She's blushing, she knows it. Because Dove has known just how much Steve has come to mean to her, but she'd never gotten to hear about how much she's meant to someone else before. And to have that feeling reciprocated, well it just has her staring blankly at him as water droplets fall from her overalls and onto her feet. Each drop feeling heavier as she doesn't respond.

“I, um…”

Say something you idiot, this is something you've always wanted!

“Well… it’s the least I can do. Since you’re always there for everyone else. And the kids. And, uh… me. So, yeah.”

Wow, real articulate there, Dove.

Steve swallows, looks down, then lifts his eyes back to hers. The eye contact makes Dove suddenly aware of how heavy the overalls feel, soaked through and cold. His eyes are soft, almost tender, and she wonders if that is the look she’s been waiting for. Surely not.

She lets out a laugh and turns her head away, breaking the gaze before her heart can race any faster.

“Hey, let’s go get ice cream or something.”

Her suggestion seems to snap Steve out of it. He shakes himself, then nods with a small smile.

“Yeah. Let’s get out of here.”

-

Dove apologizes again and again as she sits shotgun in Steve’s car, still dripping wet. He tells her more than once that it’s fine and that he’s just glad she’s okay.

There are only a few people outside the ice cream shop, mostly younger teens enjoying the first night of summer vacation. They walk up to the window. Steve orders a chocolate chip cookie dough for himself and a double dark chocolate something for Dove. It’s her favorite, though he can never quite remember the name. All he knows is that it has a lot of chocolate, brownie chunks, and something crunchy mixed in.

Dove sits on a half wall with a perfect view of the other customers scattered throughout. Steve joins her a moment later, humming along to the song coming out of the speakers from the shop. He smiles as he hands her the waffle cone with the dark brown ice cream scooped perfectly. 

She feels her hair starting to frizz since the lake water washed out all her curl products and hard work she'd put into it that morning. Her overalls are damp still, cold against the summer breeze, sending a shiver through her as she dives into her ice cream that't only destined to make her colder.

“This is the right one,” Dove says as she licks the sweet treat.

Steve huffs out a small laugh. “I hope so, I can never remember the name of it, I just know it’s that color.”

Dove laughs gently as she looks at him. “Triple chocolate brownie sunday- no wait- triple choc- wait!”

“See you can’t even remember the name!”

“It’s a long name!”

They both fall into fits of giggles as they riddle off ridiculous names for the ice cream. Triple chocolate decadent brownie surprise, Quadruple chocolate brownie, and many more names are slipped out between giggles.

Their giggles die down and they begin to eat in a comfortable silence, watching the people around them. The night air is cooler now, the kind that settles into your skin. Steve shifts, resting his elbows on his knees, staring out at the parking lot.

“So,” he says, casual but not quite. “Tomorrow.”

Tomorrow, shit she'd forgotten about tomorrow in the past hour. She has to finish packing, she has to get up early, shit she and her mom have to drive to Indy tomorrow. Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow. Tomorrow starts her life post high school. Life in the big city with that fancy, shiny internship. Polished shoes, nice clothes. Fuck, shit. Tomorrow starts a month of no Steve, the person she's been trying to spend time with this whole evening but stupid Tommy Hagan came and interrupted her during the perfect opportunity—

Wait. 

They're here, right now, alone at Farell's Ice Cream. What is going on with you, Dove? Why are you freaking out, you never get like this.

She swallows the mouth full of ice cream and the sudden panic before she responds. 

“Yeah. Tomorrow.”

“You excited?”

She shrugs. “Yeah. I think so. It’s New York. It’s an opportunity and I get to explore for a little bit, live a life outside of here I guess.” She pauses. “I’m also terrified.”

She shouldn't have said that, why did she say that? 

Steve smiles faintly. “Yeah, New York City is drastically different than Hawkins, Indiana.”

The subject needs to change, now. Something starts crawling up her spin and she's trying to shake it. 

“What about you?” she asks.

“Don't change the topic,” Steve says looking at her with a knowing look.

Please just let me, please, I don't know what's going on inside me so please just let me.

“I just don’t want to think about it right now, come on Steve,” she gives him a look she knows will make him move on.

He lets out a slow breath through his nose. “I don’t know. My dad’s got me filling out applications to any place that's hiring. Hardware store. Video rental place. The new mall’s opening soon and I’ve applied to just about every store in the building.”

“That’s good!” Dove smiles widely, hoping it’ll make him feel better. Hoping it'll cover the thing that's trying to claw at her brain now.  “Look I know you’re disappointed about Tech but think about all the money you’re gonna make.”

“Yeah, a minimum wage salary of someone who peaked in high school,” Steve grumbles, shoving a spoonful of ice cream into his mouth. “I’m a freaking loser.”

It's sad, the self deprecation seeping out in his tone. But it's a distraction, something not about her. 

“Hey,” Dove says softly, scootching closer to him. “That doesn’t make you a loser.”

He glances at her. “Feels like it.”

“Steve.”

“I just,” he starts, then stops, searching for the words. “Everyone else has a plan. You’re going to New York. Everyone’s got college and internships and a future that looks good and acceptable. Like they’re actually taking the next steps. And I’m just stuck here.”

Dove reaches out and places a hand on his forearm. “You’re not stuck. You’re just… between things.”

“That’s a nice way to say it.”

“It’s true. I mean, come on Steve, you’re so smart and kind and caring. You take really good care of people…” she trails off trying to decide if she wants to say her next point. “You’re good at taking care of me.”

Well, it just slipped out. 

“Yeah?” he asks quietly, looking at her with a smirk.

All the late nights they found themselves at each other’s houses. Being together for comfort after fighting literal monsters, an abusive ex, and dealing with shitty, absent parents. It was nice to know they could just be there for each other. That they could take care of each other.

Like friends do.

Friends, because that's all they are, just friends. 

“Yeah,” she says, just as soft. “Don’t let that go too much to your head, but you’re great Steve. You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

Steve looks down at his ice cream again, shoving another spoonful into his mouth. “Kinda hard to feel great at all lately."

She nudges his knee with hers. “Well, you’re not great at winning fights or beating me in Rumi but everything else, you’re doing pretty great.”

He laughs, deeply and amused by her tease and something about that laugh soothes the thing trying to crawl out of her. The tension inside her lightens as she starts the feel the warm air around her again, something she didn't even realize she stopped feeling. Then she feels the intense warmth against her criss crossed leg pressing entirely against Steve's outstretched one. 

The space between them had shrank in her fight from panic. They're so close now she can see peach fuzz on his face and when he turns to look at her, she can feel his breath that's cool from the cold dessert he'd been eating. She knows if she just leaned forward ever so slightly, her lips would fall on his. She bet's he'd taste like that ice cream and the cigarette they shared just a few hours ago. 

She can feel his breaths pick up along with her's as his eyes flicker down to her lips. The ones she's sure are stained brown from her ice cream. 

The parking lot lights flicker and someone close to them laughs a little too loudly.

“I’m gonna miss you,” Steve says suddenly.

Dove’s throat tightens, the words both easing that panic but also igniting it all over again. “I’m gonna miss you too.”

“A month isn’t that long,” he adds, like he’s trying to convince himself.

“No,” she agrees. “It’s not.”

Steve’s thigh presses into her knee, solid and warm. His head turns ever so slightly and the easing part of the proximity goes away as Dove becomes painfully aware of how close he is. 

Dove clears her throat, forcing a small smile. “We should probably head out. I still have to finish packing.”

“Yeah,” Steve says, though he does not move right away. “Yeah, probably.”

-

When they arrive at Dove’s house, there’s no car besides her own in the driveway. It's quiet, for the first time ever and it shocks Dove.

“Where’s your mom?” Steve asks as he cuts his engine, getting ready to walk Dove to her door like he normally does.

“I think they took my nephews to see a movie or something I don’t remember,” Dove answers, grabbing her bag from Steve’s back seat.

They walk to her front door where Dove then unlocks it and looks back to Steve. “Want to come in for a second?”

What? What are you doing?

Inviting him in! He always comes in!

But what about—

Steve nods with a breath and enters. This is normal, he’s done this countless times now. He’s been to Sunday dinner with her family. Came over here and studied and did homework. He’s stayed too late playing cards with Dove and her mom. He’s hung out in her rooms more times than he can count. Hell, he's slept in her bed with her.

Yet this time feels so different.

The cream-colored walls, broken up by dark red accents, postcards taped beside photographs, and the familiar smell welcomes him as he steps inside. It feels warm. Safe. Something in his chest loosens the moment he enters. He’s found sanctuary in her room, an escape from his own house when his parents return, a place where he’s safe and unbothered by a critical mother and an ever-absent father.

Dove sets her keys down on the dresser and turns, suddenly unsure what to do with her hands. Steve stops after three steps into the room.

The air between them feels heavy. It is heavy. It's been waiting for this moment. It's been waiting for them to connect again. 

A silence stretches between them as they just look at each other. Months of mutual pining, never spoken out loud between them, fill the room, heavy and almost suffocating. It rises around them, pressing in until it feels like they might drown in a sea of their own emotions and personal torments.

“You’re really going to New York tomorrow,” Steve breaks the silence.

“Tomorrow morning,” she replies.

He swallows. “That feels… weird.”

She smiles faintly. “It does.”

Because it is weird. Tomorrow's the first Saturday of the month and on those Saturdays they have movie nights with the kids. This will be the first Saturday since January that happens without Dove.

They stand there, inches closer than before without either of them remembering moving. Steve notices the way her room smells like her, something clean and familiar. He notices the way her eyes keep flicking down to his mouth before snapping back up again.

“I don’t want to leave,” Dove suddenly hears herself saying, her mouth moving on its own. 

Something inside her smothers the thing that's trying to keep her away from this. From him. It quiets and all that's left is the good kind of anxiety, the one that comes from anticipation of waiting for this moment. 

“I really don’t want you to leave either,” Steve confesses. “I know it’s good for you and it’s part of the next step but…I want you to be here with me all summer.”

Steve steps closer now, careful, giving her time to pull away. She doesn’t. Instead, she tilts her head up, eyes searching his face as she tries to memorize it.

“I wish I could do that,” Dove admits, eyes closed and breathing in his cologne. “But this is a favor and my mom would be so disappointed if I didn’t go.”

Steve hums in agreement, his face so close to hers. “I’m going to be miserable all of June.”

“I’ll be back before the fourth.”

“That’s not soon enough.”

His hands slide into hers, holding them gently. She should back away, she knows she should. Steve knows he shouldn’t be doing this the night before she leaves, but he can’t help it. They are both too damn tired of pretending.

“Steve,” she practically whines as his mouth is just centimeters from hers. “I…we shouldn’t…”

Steve walked her closer to her bed, her thighs pressing against the side of the mattress, his hand coming up to hold her cheek. His breathing just as shallow as hers.

“Tell me to stop and I will.” His lips are brushing hers now as he speaks.

She does not. That part of her brain quiets completely and a new found confidence surges throw her blood and send her forward.

She closes the distance, their lips finally pressing together in a searing kiss. His hand cups the back of her neck, the other gripping her waist tightly, pulling her closer as he kisses her back. Her arms wrap around his neck, dragging him impossibly closer, tasting that cookie dough and cigerette on his lips. He swallows the sounds she lets out happily.

His lips are so soft and warm as the gentleness moves into desperation and want. Her top lip comes between his as his hands move between her hair and her back. Hers thread into his hair at the back of his head, tugging him closer.

They shift, his lips starting to perfectly envelop hers as he ever so gently bites her bottom lip. Past the chocolate taste still lingering in her mouth is something he knows is so distinctly her he feels drunk off of it. He wants more, needs more. Because now that he's had this once, he doesn't think he'll ever be able to get enough. Especially when he licks into her mouth and she lets out a sound so breath taking he thinks his knees are going to give out.

His brain completely hazes over at the whimpers she lets out when his hand travels lower on her body. And it only boosts his ego when she presses into him further. 

Her hands slid down his neck, tugging at the collar of his polo. He pulls back just enough to breathe. “Do you want me to stop?”

“The opposite,” Dove says, kissing him again as they fall back onto her bed.

It’s everything Dove has been dreaming about, his warm body on top of hers, caging her in as he kisses her breathless. His lips chase hers when she pulls away to breathe, not liking the distance. He replaces them with her neck as he begins to ravish the skin with gentle kisses mixed with light bites.

Dove reaches between them, grabbing the bottom of Steve’s shirt and pulling it over his head. His chest rises and falls unevenly, his eyes half-lidded as she drags her hands over his chest, mapping the freckles and loving the hair growing on the center between his pecks. He’s quick to return the action, undoing the clasps of her overalls and pulling it off her body, the clothing still slightly damp, and then pulling off her shirt as well.

His hands hover over her torso as he looks her up and down, his breath catches.

She worries for a second at his hesitance. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Steve assures her, licking his lips, looking her in the eyes. “It’s just, fuck.” He’s whispering, eyes drinking her in like he’ll never be satisfied. “You’re… you’re so beautiful.”

Heat blooms in her cheeks. “Shut up, you're so corny” she mutters, reaching up and kissing him, slow and deep, swallowing the reverence in his voice.

He moves over her gently, like she’s porcelain, pressing kisses down her throat, her chest, lower. His hands tremble slightly as he removes her bra, large breast pilling out and Steve lets out a moan at the sight. God this is heaven.

When his lips close around her nipple, she gasps, threading her fingers into his hair.

This is what it feels like to have him. Fully. No one interrupts and Dove allows her fantasies to come true entirely. His fingers hook onto the sides of her panties, looking into her eyes for permission to which she nods quickly.

He’s sliding her underwear down her legs, and she’s trembling with anticipation. He looks up to her as he kisses her thighs, eyes pleading in a way she’d never seen before. Asking for permission to continue, a permission so hot and demanding she can’t do anything but whisper “yes.”

And then his mouth is on her.

She gasps his name, “Steve.”

His mouth moves in an act of worship, like she's the best thing he's ever tasted. Like this is just a pleasurable to him as it is for her. And he's good, God he's good. He applies just the right amount of pressure with his tongue as it circles her clit before sucking it into his mouth. He groans against her when her hips rock against his face to get more and then his finger comes up only adding to her pleasure in a way she's never experienced before. 

Her back arches off the bed and a moan rips through her. No one has ever mad her feel like this before. 

His fingers curl and hit something inside her she's barely ever hit before and everything blurs. He moans against her again, licking at her clit in reverence and taking every drop she gives him. It's too much, it's not enough. She can barely even hear the praise he's giving her as the coil inside her snaps and she unravels completely, crying out his name.

When she collapses back against the sheets, chest heaving, he kisses his way back up her body, tasting herself on his lips. He’s pressed against her so deliciously and her brain is so fuzzy and yes, oh God, yes!

And then that panic crawls back in again. Something that's never happen before. 

It was like a switch flipped and her brain becomes hazy and not in the amazing post orgasm good way. It confusing and sudden and scary. Her eyes well up with tears and her breathing quickens and she’s pushing Steve off of her before she even realizes it. Gasping for air. The room’s spinning. Her chest hurts.

What are you doing Dove? You leave for New York tomorrow and you're sleeping with your friend? Who are you? I know who you are, you're the slut that Tommy said you were. God, this is all you want huh? Just someone to fill that void you can never understand. He doesn't even like you, he's still pining after Nancy you idiot. You're worth—

“What, what’s wrong? Dove, are you okay?” Steve’s holding her face trying to bring her attention to him but she’s pushing his hands off of her.

She doesn't even recognize the voice scolding her in her brain. It's new and terrifying and...and...

“Steve, you…you have to go..this… I can’t…” She’s breathing heavily, tears rolling down her cheeks.

He tries to hold her face again, wipe the ones rolling out of her eyes.

She continues pushing his hands away

“We shouldn’t have…this was…this was a...I can't”

"Dove, Dove talk to me what's going on?"

"Get out...I can't...you have to go...I can't."

Steve’s heart shatters at the words, watching her sob. Everything he's always wanted, the girl he's realized might be the girl of his dreams is suddenly pushing him away. And the worse part is, she can't even get out how she thinks this was a mistake. She regrets this. Guilt seeps through him as he starts to feel like he pushed her into this. The girl who's become his closest friend he has now ruined the friendship with.

He tries one last time, moving to help her, to figure out what’s wrong, but she keeps pushing him back, whispering, “You have to go,” breathlessly.

He stumbles as he pulls his shirt on, barely getting it over his head before she pushes him out of her bedroom door, leaving him standing in the hallway, stunned. His nose tingles as he blinks away the tears forming in his eyes.

He runs out of the house, rejection heavy in his chest, unable to bear it.

---------------------

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[mily-writes-stuff]

Okay, I rewrote this whole chapter basically and you guys should really go back and reread this one cause it's significantly better now and explains so much more of Dove's character.

[mily-writes-stuff]

Okay guys, I am going back and rewriting/fixing inconsistencies in previous chapters of Savior Complex bc it morphed into something different later on and I can’t let the beginning be like it is anymore. So if you feeling like going back and rereading I’d recommend bc I think previous chapters are getting better and explain more about Dove and Steve now. Nothing changes in terms of the actual storyline but we get more of a understanding of the characters now and their relationships cause I totally rushed the beginning to get to the part I was excited about (whoops). Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy!

[mily-writes-stuff]

Savior Complex

pairing: Steve Harrington x OC

word count: 5.7k

summary: In the weeks that follow the fall night in 1984, Steve Harrington finds comfort in his new friend, Dove Jones. Something settles in the month that follows that night; it's gentle and frighteningly becoming addicting to both Dove and Steve.

warnings: Mentions of past violence and assault (not graphic) Trauma, PTSD, and nightmares. Emotional aftermath of last chapter. mentions of infidelity. stancy breakup. Mild substance use (smoking, alcohol). Hurt/comfort, slow-burn romantic tension

authors note: this chapter is a lot of like emotional build up and a bit of a stark contrast to the last one (sorry not sorry). I adore found family themes and trauma bonding the lead to complicated feelings! Also want to note I wrote this before the airing of volume 2 of season 5 and it's very funny that the reason Jonathan and Nancy breakup is the reason Dove is afraid to fall completely for Steve lol.

chapter 1

Chapter 2: The Snowball Dance

The month after the events in the Byers's living room and those tunnels passed way quicker than anyone expected. December 10th came fast, the cold winter air moving in rapidly making Steve's brain dwell on that night all the time. It lives in his head constantly. Flashes of the fight stumble through his head unwanted when he tries to fall asleep, the fear he saw in those kids eyes while in that bus, and then Dove Jones.

His mind has found itself staying on the thought of her more often than not. He catches her in flashes like he does the fight; her blonde air, those brilliant green eyes, and her sweet amber perfume filling his senses without her even there. 

It's stupid, so incredibly stupid because...well he doesn't even really know her and he has Nancy. Well, he had Nancy. Two nights after the fight and closing of the gate (Hopper had came and informed him and Dove of that the next day, along with informing Dove on the secrecy that surrounded the situation) he and Nancy officially broke up. He had told her that night it was okay for her to off with Jonathan because it was okay and they didn't really have time to fight about it then. But what that meant, and what he learned in reading between the lines of Nancy's excuses of why they should break up hurt him more than he'd care to admit. Nancy said she felt more for Jonathan than she thought she did. Steve knew what 'more' meant. 'More' in this instance he could tell was more than emotional and sure yeah, they had fought but...they weren't broken up. He had wanted to work it out, talk to her, figure out what to do next but she had other plans he figures. He wouldn't make her admit what he suspected happen, not after seeing the way her hands shake when talking to him. Steve knew he would always love Nancy Wheeler, but...

Dove.

It baffles him how his heart had begun to stutter around her after that night in his kitchen. She smiles brightly at him as they pass each other in the halls, talks with him between classes, and even moves to sit next to him in the study hall they share in the library now. None of her attention is performative, not seeking for anything and not of pity either. It's just her.

In the quick stretch from November 10th to December 10th, he's found himself seeking her out more then anyone else in Hawkins High. He learns about her love for math and history, her desire to attend Purdue even though she knows it’s a long shot. She has no idea what career she truly wants, but growing up she always wanted to work in a museum.

“It’s weird, I know,” Dove laughs as she looks over her textbook. “My dad took me to The Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City when we went to visit my aunt and uncle, and I loved it.”

“Really?” Steve smiles at her, resting his face on his fist as he looks at her. Her hair is wavy, full of volume. The blue of her jean jacket makes the green of her eyes look slightly bluer, her cream-colored turtleneck covering the bruising that still colors her neck. Steve loves how she talks with her hands, painting images of what she saw in New York City at thirteen years old.

Also in that quick stretch though, he still feels his heart hurt every time Nancy Wheeler passes them in the halls. The first girl he's ever loved, spent the longest amount of time with in a relationship gone. And then he feels something else in his chest when she passes with Jonathan Byers in the hall. He doesn't want to call it hatred, but it's akin to that. Because how can she have...cheated on him with Jonathan Byers? Who took pictures of her through his bedroom window from the woods. Jonathan Byers, who beat the shit out of him last year. Jonathan Byers, who looks at Steve with nothing but hatred, even after they fought monsters together. 

And yeah, Steve knows there's layers to it and to Jonathan as well and he's not just some perky asshole but really? Out of everyone to leave him for it was the guy who prepped on her last year and...when Steve thinks about it too much, his blood starts to boil, and a new insecurity takes root, settling deep and ugly where he desperately tries to ignore it.

So, instead, he's tried finding a distraction. Dustin Henderson has been a good distraction.

Steve never thought he'd find himself hanging out with a thirteen year old in his free time but it doesn't suck. Dustin's a good kid, annoying as hell sometimes but he makes him laugh and even feel cool again. Mrs. Henderson has insisted Steve stay for dinner most nights when she learned that his parents weren't home after Dustin told her. Those nights Steve stays a little later then he knows he should so Dustin can show him everything he's deemed important for him to know. Star Wars being that main thing. 

Then on the weekends, Dustin begs Steve to take him and the other boys to the arcade (the cold weather doesn't bode well for biking). It's here that they run into Dove and Max. Dove tells Steve she's sure they've been bamboozled into bringing them all together for a hangout but neither of them really complain. 

On the third Saturday at the arcade, Steve offers to host a movie night. He's never admit it to them but he finds these kids filling a little space in his heart for a family he's always craved as a lonely, only child. So he'll sacrifice one of his days on break to 'babysit' and watch a movie with some eighth graders. It beats having a giant, empty house to himself all the time.

“So,” Dustin starts from Steve’s passenger that same Saturday night as they pull out of the arcade parking lot. “How are you and Dove?”

Steve, who had been watching Dove lead Max, Mike, and Lucas to her blue Chevy to take them home, jerks his head toward the curly-haired boy. “What are you talking about?”

Dustin rolls his eyes. “I mean, have you asked her out?”

Steve's mouth goes a little dry, like he's been caught. He hasn't, because... “Why would I have asked her out?”

“’Cause you like her, duh!”

Steve feels his heart beat pick up a little, a twinge of rosiness creeping up his neck and to his cheeks. Is his forming crush really that obvious? Whatever it doesn't matter, he just broke up with Nancy and he's not going to say anything to the girl who saved his life and has finally found a real friendship with that he likes her. That would be dumb and reckless and besides, his feelings are all jumbled right now.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Who said I liked her?”

“Uh, I did,” Dustin replies like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I mean, seriously, Steve, you look at her with heart shapes in your eyes.”

Okay, no way it's that obvious.

“We’re just friends, okay, man? Just friends.”

“Friends who like to make googly eyes at each other and want to kiss when we’re not there?”

“Dustin!”

Steve deals with Dustin’s pestering about asking Dove out for days. He only stops when Steve promises him a can of Farrah Fawcett spray for the Snowball Dance.

But just when that ends, his parents come back into town. Now Steve's parents aren't totally absent, when they're here they try to learn about his laugh but he knows it's forced. They only do it because it's like they know they're supposed to. They're both way too business minded and analytical to actually care about their son's feelings. Still, they ask about Nancy at the dinner table their first night back, and he has to explain the breakup all over again. He tries to leave out the part about him suspecting her to have cheated on him but he knows they can read between the lines just as well as he can.

His mom doesn't act surprised, which is just as heartbreaking to him as the actual act. But she lays a comforting hand on his shoulder and it's almost like his parents are loving, normal parents instead of business minded freaks who only care about their image and money. 

Then comes the questions about the healing black eye, the purple bruising still staining his skin and still a little swollen no matter how much he ices it. His dad is the one who asks about it, his tone unamused by his son's ability to get in fights and lose. 

Steve finds himself swallowing as he tries to get something out as close to the truth as possible 'cause they know when he lies. He explains he got it defending his new friend Dove and some kids he started babysitting against an asshole ("Language", his mother scolds) who couldn't take no for an answer and decided he needed to prove it. He leaves out the part where he lost the fight and Dove almost got strangled to death, those details feel unimportant for them to know.

That was the week of Thanksgiving they returned. They leave again the following week for the annual Christmas summit for the business they run, this year it's in London. And the same as every year, Steve holds his breath for an invitation to go with them that he's sure will never come. And just like every year it doesn't.

“We should be back before Christmas,” his mom says as she tugs on her gloves before heading out the door. “But if not, you know where your presents are."

He's alone again, spending the weeks most people are gathering together with family alone in a big house. A big cold house that lack the warmth a family home should have. A big house that has never felt so empty since that Saturday night in November where Dove Jones came in and filled it with a warmth he's never felt before. 

Because that's what keeps her in his mind. The day after she slept over, she just started talking to him like she'd known him forever. She helped clean up his face and left her number scribbled on a notecard with a note that said "call whenever!" next to her name. And he knew she meant it, because like stated before, she finds him in the halls, in the lunchroom, in the parking lot with no expectation or pity, just being her. Wanting to be around him.

That's how Steve finds himself walking to the phone, lifting the receiver, and hovering his hand over the dial.

He hesitates, looking down at her number on that very notecard on the buffet table next to him. It's Friday, she's probably busy, out with friends and having a life, like he should be. 

Instead, he finds himself dialing the Henderson's number. It’s a Friday night, they play D&D on Saturdays, Dustin should be free. The phone rings forever and no answer ever comes.

He calls Dove. She answers on the third ring. 

"Jones residence?"

That's how Dove ends up driving over to the house on Irwin Road, Steve quickly cleaning up an already spotless house in anticipation of her arrival. They watch Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom since she just got the VHS from her brother. They sit on opposite ends of the couch, calculated, platonic distance between them that Steve feels an itch to close but doesn't dare do.

And that night, as mundane and wholesome it was, starts his mind into an internal game of tennis with emotions. The ball of emotion inside him won’t stop bouncing back and forth. His heart still aches from breaking up with Nancy, finding himself staring at her in the halls as she walks with Jonathan. But then Dove pops in and he feels so much better. It goes back and forth in a dizzying match. 

Nancy. Dove. Nancy. Dove. Dove. Dove.

It doesn't stop no matter how much he tries to drown it out. 

But on the night of December 10th, he decided not to think about Nancy or Dove. Because that is not what's important tonight. No, he’s going to be a good older-brother figure for Dustin Henderson and take him to the Snowball Dance. Steve remembers going to this dance in eighth grade, and being as nervous as all get out. He remembers being teased by Tommy for his bowtie and pulling it off in the bathroom before walking into the gym. He kissed Tiffany Miller during a slow dance. His first kiss.

He wonders if Dove was at that dance.

No. We are not thinking about her tonight.

He pulls up to Dustin’s house, knocking on the door and smiling when Dustin’s mom answers. Inside, Dustin is panicking in his room with the Farrah Fawcett spray Steve bought him. Steve helps him out, ushering him quickly to the car so they can be fashionably late, just like Steve told him he should be.

-

Across town, in a house Dove never thought she’d willingly go back into, Dove helps Max get ready for the dance with her mom. Her mom fusses over her hair while Dove applies the smallest amount of makeup to her face.

“Ow, ow, that hurts,” Max winces as her mom pokes a barrette into the twist at the top of her head.

“It’s gonna be worth it. Promise,” her mom says, smiling at her in the mirror.

Max looks to Dove, who nods in agreement, meeting eyes in the reflection.

Billy's figure catches the reflection as he passes the bathroom door. Dove feels something in her throat tightening as he pauses, eyes looking on hers in the mirror. The bruising on her neck still looks nasty, but thankfully is covered by a turtle neck. When her hands falter while applying blush, Max catches Billy's gaze. Dove doesn't miss the warning squint of her eyes at her step brother before watching his own eyes soften slightly, giving a small nod and moving on.

Hopper had asked Dove and Steve when he had come by the Harrington house the day after if they wanted to press charged against Billy. But the three of them agreed due to the whole top secret government experiment they had found themselves tied in, it might be best not to so lawyers didn't go poking in unwanted places. A part of Dove is glad she didn't, not wanting to relieve that night more then she already is in her nightmares, but she's love for Billy to get what he deserves for his behavior (though she suspects Hopper might've done something with the way he's been avoiding Dove and Steve in the halls). 

Dove set's the blush brush down, smiling sweetly at the red head and looking at her in the reflection again. “See? You look so cool.”

Max hides a soft smile behind an eye roll at the two women fussing over her.

Like Steve, something in Dove's heart fills when she's with Max and the other kids. Being the youngest of three, and her two older sibling being so much older than her, she longed to have actual present siblings. Of course, she had a very loving mother who cared for her deeply and was there for her as much as she could be. After her dad died at fifteen though, she was a little more absent and distant, having to work more. She disappeared for days at a time throwing herself into work. But when she was home, she was present and attentive and loving and Dove was grateful. 

And luckily she was never truly alone. She had two nephews who hung out at the house with her grandma while her older sister had to work. And then her brother would come by as often as he could from military leave. But that longing for someone like Max in her life was always there, and she was glad she found that now, no matter the circumstances of how she got it.

-

Steve pulls into the Hawkins Middle School parking lot, turning the music down as he does. The sky has been dark for hours at this point and he catches sight of little snow flurries in the streetlights as he parks and turns to Dustin.

“Alright, buddy. Here we are.”

Dustin looks into the gym, fingers twisting together in an act of nervousness. He looks great in his blue suit, his hair a curlier version of Steve’s usual style.

“So remember,” Steve says, pulling Dustin’s attention back to him.

“Pretend like I don’t care,” Dustin finishes.

“You don’t care.”

“I don’t care.”

“There you go. You’re learning,” Steve says, pride blooming in his chest.

The usual King Steve attitude feels a bit hypocritical to be teaching now because lately all Steve does is care. And in any normal instance of Steve developing feelings for a girl (not that he was developing real feelings for Dove, that would be insane he just broke up with Nancy, remember?), Steve would have this nonchalant, cool guy attitude. But that night, with Dove in his bed and everything that had happened, all he found himself doing and wanting to do was care.

That night, he couldn’t rest peacefully. What sleep he did get was light, a constant fear sitting in his chest that Billy or some inter-dimensional creature would come crawling out of his pool and into his room. Then came the thought's of the girl who was not his girlfriend laying in his bed, bruises around her neck and the fear of her dying clawing at his brain. He laid flat on his back, head turning to the side every so often to check on Dove, to make sure she was still breathing.

And every time he check, she was. Slow and peaceful, lips parted slightly, arms tucked up close to her face.

At some point, he must have fallen asleep deep enough not to notice when she got up. After a small panic, he found her sitting on his back deck, quietly smoking a cigarette.

The sun was barely up, her frame silhouetted by the light creeping over the trees in his backyard. Her curly hair an unruly mess and goosebumps prickled her bare arms from the cold morning air. 

“I don’t feel like someone who was strangled last night should be smoking,” Steve said as he sat beside her on the steps leading down to the pool deck.

She breathed out the drag she’d just taken, looking at him as she rested her temple against the heel of her palm, the cigarette balanced between her fingers. “We fought lizard dogs yesterday and I learned there’s an alternate dimension of our town. I deserve one.”

He chuckled and reaching up, taking the cigarette from her, their fingers brushing in the process. The cigarette touches his lips, the feeling of nicotine warmly filling his lungs as he pulled a drag. She smiled at him warmly, and something light and buzzing sparked in his chest not from the nicotine. 

Something about that smile, warm and genuine puts a little bandage on Steve's cracked heart.

“We make good babysitters,” Dove said as she took the cigarette back from him.

“Yeah,” he replied, “well, I definitely didn’t plan on it.”

The memory snaps away when Dustin pulls the mirror down for what is probably the hundredth time during this car ride. Steve reaches over and pushes it back up.

“Hey. You look great, okay? You look… you look great,” Steve says, that overwhelming paternal instinct kicking in. “You’re gonna walk in there, look like a million bucks, and you’re gonna slay ’em dead.”

“Like a lion,” Dustin smirks, purring.

“Yeah, don’t do that.”

They look at each other before Steve reaches out and shakes his hand. “Good luck.”

Dustin gives a toothy grin, his hand pulling open the door excitedly.

“What are you gonna do while I party the night away, King Steve?” Dustin asks, grabbing his ticket.

“Don’t worry about me, buddy. I’ll have plenty of fun.”

“Does it involve Dove?” Dustin wiggles his eyebrows.

Steve glares as Dustin laughs and heads inside.

Steve watches him talk to Mr. Clark at the entrance, then sees Nancy behind the drink table.

Shit.

Nancy.

She looks beautiful, hair in a messy updo, her dress unmistakably Christmas-y. The sight pulls painfully at his heart. She smiles and waves at the girls walking away, and the memory of her smiling like that at him flashes through his mind, the ache sharpening with her drunken words from the bathroom on Halloween.

“You’re bullshit.”

Steve looks away, swallowing hard, his plan not to think about either girl collapsing instantly. He moves to put his car into drive, rolling his shoulders and looking forward, letting the pain stay in his chest as he accepts it for what it is. Nancy doesn’t want him.

Then he sees Dove.

And that pain moves away again like it's been doing. Into something he's starting to realize he’s ever felt before. Not even with Nancy. It’s odd, the taste of rejection and heartache still fresh and lingering in his mouth. Then it dissolves on his tongue and it's like he’s taken a bite of something sweet and refreshing when those blonde curls come into view. 

Dove dusts off Max’s sweater, high-fives her, and smiles as she heads inside. She linger behind for a moment, watching Max disappear into the gym.

Steve realizes he’s staring.

Her bright sweater tucked into her jean skirt, a yellow turtleneck underneath, still covering the last of the bruises. Black tights, white scalloped socks, loafers. Her hair in the familiar blowout he’s seen so many times now.

Nancy is beautiful. No doubt about it.

But Dove…

He can’t look away. He hasn’t been able to look away for the past month honestly. There’s something about her smile, her quick wit, her bravery, her thoughtfulness. Her. She looks like an angel who decided to grace Hawkins, Indiana and he suddenly feels light headed looking at her.

Steve exhales.

Fuck it.

“Dove!” Steve calls as he pulls up beside her. She has already started walking back to her car, the blue chevy unmistakably hers.

She turns quickly at the sound of her name and smiles at the brunette in the driver’s seat, her heart skipping just a little when she sees him in the red sweater. Red is his color.

“Hey!” she says, walking over and leaning against the driver’s-side window. “What are you doing here?”

“Dustin asked me to bring him to the dance,” Steve explains, a confidence creeping into his voice that he hopes impresses her. His earlier words to Dustin about not caring have clearly abandoned him. “He needed help with his hair too.”

“Oh?” Dove smiles cooly. “You give him the Harrington special?”

“Oh yeah. He’ll get all the ladies tonight.”

“Oh, I bet,” Dove snorts.

Steve laughs with her, his heart lifting at her sarcasm. His gaze drifts to her neck, where a faint bruise peeks out from the top the turtleneck. His stomach twists as the memory resurfaces, vivid and unwanted—Billy on top of her, right there next to him, unable to help. It had come to him in a dream a week after it happened. He chooses not to tell her he gained that memory every time it comes to him.

“You doing anything until you have to pick Max up later?” he asks, silently hoping her to say no.

“No, not really.”

Yes.

“Why?” she adds. “You wanna do something?”

Shit. He didn’t think this far ahead. Think fast, Harrington.

“Uh…yeah, I was-” Jesus, Harrington, pull it together. “Wanna go to the diner downtown?”

Dove doesn’t hesitate. She walks around the car, opens the passenger door, and slides into the seat.

“You’re buying.”

-

The coffee smell fills Dove’s nose as she breathes it in the warm liquid in front of her. The scent almost overwhelms her senses but in the best way possible as she begins to dump cream and sugar into it.

“Want some coffee with all that cream and sugar?” Steve questions with a raised brow, teasing her as she dumps a fourth thing of cream into the mug.

“Nope,” she pops the ‘P’ on the word, picking up her spoon and stirring the hot liquid. “I like my coffee nice and sweet, just like me.”

“Just like you?” Steve questions again with a teasing tone.

She nods as she picks up the mug taking a sip.

“You hit boys for fun from what I’ve heard, I wouldn’t call that sweet.”

“Ah see, they all deserve it, though,” she argued, setting the mug down and crossing her arms. “I mean, would you have rathered me let Billy continue to beat the shit out of you?”

Steve laughs, “No, but I guess if that’s you being sweet then I’ll take it.”

There's a pause as their laughter dies down. Steve looks around the diner and takes in all the Christmas decorations. The lights that hung on the counter were twinkling and there was a small Christmas tree by the register.

Dove watches him as he looks around, admiring the way his eyes become that honey color she has become addicted to. Stupid, that’s stupid, why is she obsessed with his eyes?

Her feet shuffle underneath the booth table, bumping his and she mutters out an apology, moving them quickly but not missing the warmth it sparks in her stomach. Stupid.

“Max looked nice,” Steve breaks the silence as he looks back at her. He’s picking at the skin around his thumb nail.

“Yeah, she did,” Dove agrees as she takes another sip of the warm drink. “You should’ve seen her when her mom pulled out a dress from her closet though, I thought she was going to implode.”

Steve snorts at the thought, “Max in a dress? Does her mom even know her?”

“Right?”

There’s a charged silence again, Steve’s feet move this time under the table and just ever so slightly rests the toe of his shoe against hers. Dove chooses not to move her foot.

It’s nice, Dove begins to think, she could get used to this feeling. The warmth his company allows, it makes that feeling in her chest burn bright again, the same way it did in his kitchen that night, the same way it did when she came over to watch Indiana Jones, but she tries not to think about it too much. It’s strange and overwhelming and unlocking something in her she’s not sure she wants to let out.

She finds herself fighting against her own mind when it drifts to Steve. His warm smile and honey eyes. She really, really doesn’t want to feel some sort of way about him. He just broke up with his girlfriend and they almost died together. Her mind goes in circles continuously about him and the situation that surrounds their friendship.

Did he really care that much about her? Or was it just circumstances? Was this all some sort of show to make Nancy jealous? She didn’t want to be a pawn in some sort of emotional mind game he was trying to play with his ex.

But those cold thoughts are replaced with warm feelings as he looks at her and cracks jokes and asks her questions about her Christmas vacation plans. She finds herself getting more excited for the break she had slightly been dreading as Steve asks her about the movie night he had mentioned before.

“We should watch Gremlins," Steve comments as he takes a fry from his plate that was just dropped in front of him. “I saw they had it at Family Video when I went in the other day.”

Dove hisses and shakes her head, “I don’t know if I could handle a movie about weird little creatures after, well, you know.”

Steve thinks on it for a second before agreeing. “Yeah, I can’t argue with that.”

“You know,” Dove continues, leaning forward and dropping her voice to a whisper. “every time you suggest something lately, it always seems to lead back to interdimensional beings, our near-death experiences, or both.”

“Not true,” he says defensively. Then he pauses, thinking about how most of their hangouts and conversations somehow circle back to that night. “…Okay, maybe a little true. But that’s only because we have trauma or something. But you're not much better, with all the jokes you make about it.”

Dove snorts as she picks up her mug and takes another sip. “Okay, Pretty Boy.”

“Okay, so what can you handle, Wonder Woman?” Steve asks, stretching his arm across the back of the booth as he leans forward to steal a piece of bacon from Dove’s plate. She swats at his hand as he does.

“Hm,” Dove hums. “Maybe something stupid? Mindless even? Oh! Like Risky Business!” She takes a bite of her chocolate chip waffle.

Steve shakes his head. “That one hits a little too close to home right now.”

Dove watches a something flicker in Steve's eyes for a moment as she watches him think about that big empty house. She didn't ever press too much about it but listened when he cared to share, like the night his parents left and she came over to watch that movie. That same intrigue she has for him comes bubbling up again as she sees past that King Steve facade he still tries to front sometimes and just sees a boy who isn't excited that his parents are gone again. During Christmas time. And to most teenage boys, this would be their dream, but years of it does seem like it can get old. Fending for himself, home alone again. She has no idea if he has anymore family in the Hawkins area.

It makes him sad. It makes her sad.

“What are your Christmas plans?” Dove finds herself asking.

Steve shrugs as he finishes the last bite of his burger. “I don’t know. Depends on whether my parents make it back from London.”

“And if they don’t?” Dove prompts gently.

He sighs, leaning back into the booth. He looks away for a second, then remembers Dustin inviting him to spend Christmas with him and his mom. He’ll probably take him up on it.

“Probably hang out with Dustin and his mom.”

Dove nods, finishing her bacon. “Well, Christmas Eve my mom’s having a little get-together dinner party, if you want to come.”

Steve looks at her, a small smile forming as he nods. “I’d like that.”

------

December 20th is a Thursday night, and Dove is way too excited to hang out with a bunch of thirteen and fourteen year olds. Dustin made the executive decision that Star Wars: A New Hope would be the movie of the night, insisting Steve needed to be properly educated still. Apparently he wasn’t paying enough attention the first time.

Dove happily picks up Lucas and Max first. It’s easy since she lives in the same neighborhood as the Sinclairs, and Max isn’t far out of the way either. She smiles at their sweet glances and intertwined hands. Young love. Max had practically screamed about their kiss after the dance the moment she got Dove's car, and Dove couldn’t help but smile fondly at the red head that night.

“Do you think Steve will have Skittles?” Lucas asks, leaning forward between the seats.

“I think he’s well prepared,” Dove answers, even though she isn’t entirely sure if Skittles made the grocery list. Steve had called her twice that morning just to make sure he wasn’t overdoing it.

“They’re kids, Steve. They love everything sweet, didn’t you?”

“Dustin’s a picky little shit about his candy,” Steve had argued. “I wanna make sure the others aren’t the same.”

When they pull into Steve’s driveway, Lucas and Max immediately gawk at the size of the house. Declaring that all future game nights and movie nights should happen here.

Inside, Dustin, Will, and a very grumpy Mike are sprawled on the couch. Mike sits with his arms crossed and a faint pout on his face. Will and Dustin excitedly clutch their new character sheets for a campaign they’ve been planning, while Mike looks entirely uninterested.

He hasn’t been allowed to see Eleven since the Snowball, and his mood has only worsened with each day Hopper keeps them apart.

That mood shifts drastically when Steve returns.

Dove doesn’t know Jim Hopper well, but her dad did. They worked on the police force together while her dad was still well enough to work and were close enough that Dove still had Hopper’s number in the rolodex by the phone and felt confident enough to call him. She managed to convince him to let Eleven come over for the evening, promising she won’t be seen by anyone and that they won’t leave the house. She even throws in that all the curtains will stay closed.

When Steve arrives back at the house with Eleven, the two of them hurry inside. When she enters through the front door, her friends light up instantly, rushing forward to hug her tightly.

The movie starts with popcorn, sodas, and candy spread everywhere, enough to make Steve’s mom lose her mind if she saw it. The thought makes Steve want to host movie nights more often.

The kids sprawl across the living room. Mike and Eleven sit pressed together on one couch, her hands wrapped tightly around his arm. Dustin sits on the floor in front of them, leaning back with his head tipped up, while Will curls into the far corner. Lucas and Max sit together on the other couch, Dove beside them. Steve claims the corner chair.

By the time the credits roll, Steve is far more invested than he expected to be. Maybe he really wasn’t paying attention the first time.

“I gotta watch the next one,” he mutters to Dove, whose eyes are starting to droop.

“Mm-hmm,” she hums, yawning and stretching before glancing at her watch. “Shit. We need to get El back before Hopper comes looking.”

Steve checks his own watch and freezes when he sees the time. 10:46 PM.

They both stand, then stop short as they take in the scene around them.

Every one of them is asleep.

“Should we wake them?” Steve asks, scratching the back of his neck.

“They’re so cute when they’re not talking,” Dove jokes softly, earning a quiet laugh from him.

Steve moves toward Eleven, reaching to shake her shoulder, but stops just before touching her. His nose tingling and something tightens in his chest.

Dustin had hyped her up constantly, her powers, her strength, her fearlessness, to the point that Steve had built her into something invincible in his head. On the drive over earlier, he had been nervous about how to interact with a thirteen year old girl with superpowers.

That image shattered when Last Christmas came on the radio and Eleven’s eyes widened as she leaned forward, turned up the volume, and bobbed her head with a bright smile.

It reminded him she wasn’t just a superhero. She was a kid.

Looking at her now, curled into the couch, the last of that superhero facade disappears. And that new found paternal instinct where he can’t say no to driving Dustin anywhere or giving Max more money for arcade tokens takes over and he doesn’t have the heart to wake her.

He doesn’t have the heart to wake any of them. Which leads to the decisions of a big sleepover, but unfortunately he has to take Eleven home. He thinks Hopper would murder him if her didn't.

“Dove, can you help me out here?” Steve calls softly.

She appears from the kitchen with a trash bag and stops short when she sees him lifting Eleven carefully into his arms. She curls against his chest, hands tucked under her chin. Her brown curls are tickling Steve’s neck and her lips are parted slightly.

Dove’s heart lurches.

“She wouldn’t wake up?” Dove asks quietly, setting the trash bag down and grabbing his keys before opening the front door.

“No. I just…” Steve trails off as he steps outside. “I don’t know. I couldn’t wake her.”

Dove exhales so softly he doesn’t hear it. She rushes forward and opens the back door to his car at his nod. He gently sits her in the seat, then quickly pulls off his navy sweater, folding it then laying her down on it as a pillow. She’s shocked when El only hums, Steve shushing her comfortingly and then stepping back and closing the door softly.

“What about the others?” Dove asks, her eyes ever so slightly dropping down to the white t-shirt stretched across his chest. 

“They can stay,” Steve says, hand reaching out to hers, taking his keys from her hand. “Can you call their parents and let them know? Please?”

Dove is at a loss for words.

If you had told her back in August that Steve Harrington would be standing in front of her, asking for help orchestrating a sleepover for Lucas Sinclair, a kid she’d been babysitting for years, and his friends, she wouldn’t have believed you.

And yet here he is.

She just watched him carry a sleeping Eleven to his car, careful and gentle, refusing to wake any of the kids after hosting a movie night just for them. The sight twists something deep in her chest, stirring feelings she refuses to name.

So she pushes them down and focuses on what’s in front of her.

“Yeah. Yeah, I can do that,” she says, still whispering even though she doesn’t need to.

“You can stay too,” Steve adds, fidgeting with his keys. “If you want. I mean.”

A cold breeze cuts through the driveway, sending a shiver up Dove’s spine.

“Yeah,” she says. “We can make them breakfast or something in the morning.”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees, his lips pulling into a soft smile. Their eyes stay locked together for a beat too long before Steve shakes his head. “I’ll be right back.”

Dove watches him pull away, standing in the driveway until his car disappears down the street. Then she heads back inside to start calling parents, not realizing how this night would soon repeat very often.

-

Four days later, Steve runs a hand through his hair nervously as he walks up to the Jones’s house.

It’s one story and deceptively small, stretching far back into the woods that surround it. He remembers dropping Dove off here the day after that night. She’d invited him in for just a second, and he’d seen a house full of photos, artwork, and memories. It had made him insanely jealous. It felt lived in. A house full of love.

And it is.

He feels it tonight as Dove welcomes him inside with her warm smile. Her blonde hair is in what he believes to be its most natural state, insanely curly. The dress she’s wearing nearly knocks the wind out of him. Deep red velvet, off the shoulder, falling just below her knees, revealing black tights and a matching pair of red heels. She’s stunning.

Leading up to the party, Dove changed her dress four times. She felt this urge to make herself overly presentable, even though she’d never admit it out loud. She checked her makeup at least a dozen times. Her sister was giddy at the thought of her baby sister bringing a boy to the big family Christmas party.

“He’s just a friend,” Dove hissed, but butterflies still erupted at the idea of getting caught under the mistletoe together. Stupid, that’s stupid, whatever. She pushed the thought away as best she could.

Steve is grateful he chose the deep blue sweater with the button-up underneath. He doesn’t feel underdressed, though Dove never really mentioned that this was a dress-nice kind of gathering. She also never mentioned how many people would be there.

He assumes they’re all family, or family friends. Everyone greets him with warm smiles and hugs. Her older Russian grandma and aunts pinch his cheeks, fuss over his hair, compliment his smile. He feels so… happy.

It’s a feeling of family he’s never really understood before.

And Dove…she’s just the sweetest. They laugh, play cards and dice with her family, her aunt sneaks them spiked eggnog, and Steve stays much later than he originally planned.

It’s the best Christmas he can truly remember having.

And the best part, he doesn’t think about Nancy once.

As people started filing out, some lingering in the living room, Dove and Steve sneak to the backyard, drinking the last of the eggnog that was slipped to them and sharing a cigarette.

“Your mom doesn’t care that you smoke?” Steve asks, handing the half-smoked cigarette back to her.

“No, she most definitely does,” Dove says with a smile as she takes a drag, “but she’s way too drunk and distracted to notice.”

Steve watches her as she exhales. He likes her features a lot, and he’s starting to really realize it as he swallows thickly. Her nose curves ever so slightly, her lips in a permanent pout from their fullness. Her jawline is sharp, but not overly so. He can see remnants of freckles that would pop out in the summer but pale on her winter skin. Skin that looks so soft.

“How have you been? We haven’t really talked since the snowball,” she asks, looking at him the same way she did the first time they shared a cigarette on his pool deck. She leans forward with a small smile, “And don’t bullshit me.”

“I’ve been good,” Steve says, as honestly as he can.

There’s a strain in his voice, Dove notices. She leans her shoulder into his, encouraging him. “Have you been having nightmares too?”

Well, no. Not about what I should be having them about, Steve thinks. His nightmares are mostly about the constant back-and-forth of his feelings, for his ex and his new friend. And then there’s the memory of Billy strangling Dove, something his brain conjured later that still haunts him. A vision of this girl saving him after only knowing him for a few hours. That has done something to him but he can't admit any of that.

“Not really,” Steve replies, turning more toward her, his back resting against the side of the house. “Have you?”

Dove shrugs, taking another drag before putting the cigarette out. “More so recently.”

Steve nudges his shoulder into hers now. He wants to know more. He wants her to trust him. It’s really starting to overtake him how much he’s beginning to like her.

“I don’t want to bother you with it,” she answers honestly.

She shouldn't have brought it up in the first place. Maybe it's the rum seeping through her veins but she doesn’t normally like to tell anyone about her fears and nightmares. Being vulnerable like this with someone isn't something she has much practice with, not since her dad died and she promised him she'd never be weak. But with Steve, even after only really knowing him for a month and a half now, she feels an overwhelming sense of safety.  

“No, no, it won’t bother me…” Steve reassures her. He’s shifted to be sat right next to her now, not moving from when he pushed his shoulder into hers. “I can listen, if you need it.”

She almost melts, her heart lurching the same way it did when she watched him tuck El into his backseat.

“I just dream about that night too often…” she swallows. “Billy really fucked with my head. But I mean, who wouldn’t be having nightmares though if you got strangled but still, he had been aggressive with me before when we were “going out”. I wake up in a sweat every other night because I can still feel his hand around my throat and it scares me. And I can’t talk to my mom or sister or brother about it because how do I explain that night to anyone that wasn’t there?”

Steve let out a breath at that. It’s true, how do you explain everything that happened to anyone?

The easy answer is that they can’t, like they actually can’t. Steve knows that. After what happened in fall junior year and what the lab people told them then, he knows they’ll either lock them up or just kill them if they tell anyone.

“I see Billy trying to grab Max and Lucas and him beating the shit out of you and not being able to stop it. I don’t like feeling weak, I don’t like feeling like I can’t help, and even though I did help, I still can’t help but feel like I lost something that night.”

Steve’s listening so well he almost tears up for her. There’s no response he can give that feels appropriate, words aren’t always his strong suit. So he chooses action instead. He lifts an arm, placing it around her and tugging her into his side entirely. He leans his head atop hers that’s almost laying on his chest, the angle a little awkward.

“Come stay at my place whenever you want,” Steve murmurs, he feels like that is good reassurance. “I can listen and understand what you're going through somewhat ‘cause I was there.”

She looks up at him, green eyes sparkling from the moon and porch light, the cold and warm colors contrasting. “You’re a good friend, Harrington.”

Friend feels like a gut punch but Steve takes it as he smiles at her.

He’s so fucked.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Taglist:

@amterasuu @ild4a

comment if you want to be added

[mily-writes-stuff]

Updated and rewrote some things here! Please reread if you want!

[mily-writes-stuff]

Thinking about Steve and Dove

[mily-writes-stuff]

Savior Complex

pairing: Steve Harrington x OC

word count: 9.1K

summary: In the fall of 1984, Dove Jones gets roped into helping babysit a gaggle of thirteen year old with Steve Harrington after she gave her new friend, Max Mayfield, a ride to the old junkyard. She is surprised to find out Steve is much different then the reputation the proceeds him but doesn't have time to process it when they have to fight of Max's older step brother.

warnings: Sexual assault (non-consensual touching implied, attempted coercion but briefly mentioned). References to past assault/harassment. Physical violence, Strangulation / choking. Threats of violence. Panic/anxiety response. Blood / injury. Minors in danger. profanity. also probably some canon divergence, but I tried to stay true to what actually happens in the show for now.

authors note: y'all I haven't written in five ever!!! very excited to share this. I liked this concept of there being another badass girl in the narrative, and I always love a rewrite of a show with more love story in the plot so I did that. And I love Dove, she's becoming a favorite OC of mine. Also this is kinda slow burn? Strangers to friends to what are we? to lovers yay!! if there's anything like misspelled or any typos, my bad I have become increasingly worse at English since leaving school and its my first language.

chapter 2

masterlist

CHAPTER 1: LIZARD DOGS

“So my point is…” Steve starts, then trails off, clearly losing his grip on whatever he was about to say to the middle Wheeler child. He exhales, whipping his hands on the kitchen towel he’s holding. “Right. Yeah. We’re on the bench, so… there’s nothing we can do.”

Dove drops her head forward, pinching the skin between her brows in an attempt to dull the headache forming behind her eyes. There has been too much information thrown at her in the past few hours. A distorted version of Hawkins underneath them. Monsters. A girl with superpowers. It went against everything she knew and believed and this is not how she imagined today going when Max asked for a ride to the old junkyard.

Why did she give her that ride in the first place?

Oh. Right. Because she felt guilty. Because her brother is a total dick.

Well. She did not think Billy was a total dick at first. She actually thought he was incredibly hot. That part stayed true for a while. It stayed true when Billy flirted back, when he asked her out, when he kissed her and brought her home. It was fun, he was fun, and he was sweet enough.

It stopped being true when she told him to stop and his hands kept gripping her thighs like she was nothing but a piece of meat. He stopped being fun and sweet when she said no, stop, and he did not listen.

Her voice was loud. She knew it carried through the house. Dove knew what to do. There was a reason guys whispered about her in the halls.

“She’ll bite your dick off,” they would say if someone mentioned asking her out.

She had a reputation of not taking shit from anyone. Not after the horror stories her older sister brought home from college. No way was she letting some boy think he could do whatever he wanted to her.

She pried Billy’s hands off her and shoved past him, getting out of his room as fast as she could. A moment later, she was face to face with his red-haired younger stepsister. Billy’s voice followed, a string of shouted curses. Max grabbed Dove’s hand immediately, dragged her out the front door, and told her to drive.

So she did.

They got ice cream. Dove told Max to call her anytime she needed a ride, or help, or just needed to get away.

Two days later, Billy apologized. Swore it would never happen again. Then he grabbed Dove’s ass in homeroom.

Dove slapped him.

She became Max’s hero that day, even though she slapped her brother. That’s why she called her when Lucas told her to come to the old junkyard, she knew she could trust her.

Now she is standing in Jonathan Byers’ living room with the boy Max has a crush on, his friends, and Steve Harrington, sweeping up broken glass left behind by a girl with… powers. This is after fighting what looked like dog lizards at the old junkyard. After watching Steve almost get eaten by one while protecting them. After walking down the old railroad tracks and finding out that this thing ate Dustin’s cat.

What the fuck.

Her head throbs and feels the itch for a cigarette.

“That’s not entirely true,” Dustin’s voice broke through the growing headache. “I mean, these demo-dogs, they have a hive mind. When they ran away from the bus, they were called away.”

Demo-dogs, that’s what they kept calling them, right.

“So, if we get their attention,” Lucas says, pointing at Dustin while still gripping the broom he used to sweep up the glass.

“Maybe we can draw them away from the lab,” Max finishes, lifting her gaze to meet his.

“And clear a path to the gate,” Mike adds. He is staring at the floor, almost wistful. His eyes still misty from when the girl with powers, Eleven, if Dove remembers correctly, left with Chief Hopper.

Dove head is still swimming with confusion, because what has happened tonight defies everything she has ever believed. But at this point she has accepted that she is in too deep to back out. That, combined with not wanting to leave Max stranded, keeps her rooted where she is. And if Steve “The Hair” Harrington has to play babysitter without even having the experience she does, then she will stay.

Dammit.

“Yeah, and then we all die,” Steve says flatly. His arms are crossed at first, then spread wide as he talks, as if physically outlining the danger.

“That’s one point of view,” Dustin mutters from Steve’s left.

“More than just a point of view,” Dove says, standing and moving to Steve’s side.

“Yeah, man, that’s a fact,” Steve adds, turning to Dustin with a sharp bit of sass that nearly makes Dove laugh. It doesn’t feel appropriate, so her smile only flickers before fading as she shifts her attention back to the kids.

Before she can refocus, Mike pushes between her and Steve, bumping both their shoulders.

“I got it!” he announces, already marching into the kitchen.

He follows the papers scattered along the floor, the drawings branching out like roots. Or veins. Dove’s not sure which, but neither feels good.

They all trail after him. Steve and Dove walk side by side, their shoulders brushing with each step. Something flutters in her stomach with the touch, something doom fully familiar and a feeling she has told herself to fight. Because yes, Dove Jones is known for telling guys off when they go too far, but at heart...she really is a lover girl. She spent a lot of her life reading love stories throughout history and wishing for things like that. 

But after the torment of her teenage life of boys deciding she was some form locker room cred, a prized notch in their belt, she stopped trying to find Prince Charming and just someone who actually gives a shit. That didn't last long though and after Billy Hargrove (who had no idea about the "bet" or "locker room cred" she carried) did what he did, she's decided to put boys on the sideline. 

No, no, no, Dove thinks as she feels a swoop in her stomach at their shoulder brushing again. Now is not the time to develop feelings for Steve Harrington, Dove. We made a deal, no more boys.

Mike drops to his knees in front of the fridge, pointing to a specific spot on what Dove has decided is definitely a map. “This is where the chief dug his hole.” He taps the spot a few times for emphasis. “This is our way into the tunnel, so…”

There is barely time to process what he is showing them before Mike is already on his feet again, the others quickly following, leaving Steve and Dove lingering behind. Mike moves toward the largest section of the map, what looks like—

“This is like a hub.”

Yep. That’s it, Dove thinks. 

“All the tunnels feed into here. Maybe if we set this on fire—”

“What?”

“Oh yeah, that’s a no,” Steve and Dove speak at the same time.

“The Mind Flayer would call away his army,” Dustin continues, completely ignoring both protests.

“They’d all come to stop us!” Lucas adds, way too enthusiastically.

The kids start piling onto the idea, voices overlapping as they talk about circling back to the exit and El being at the gate to close it. Dove and Steve exchange a look, both wide-eyed, both very aware that this plan sounds like a fast track to getting everyone killed.

Steve tries to cut in, waving a hand, opening his mouth, but no one is listening.

“Hey! Dumbasses!” Dove yells over the noise.

That does it. All four tweens snap their attention to the two older teens.

“This is not happening,” Steve says firmly once they are finally looking at them.

Dove stands with her arms crossed, weight shifted onto one hip, brow raised in clear disbelief. Steve mirrors her stance, with hands planted on his hips.

“But—” Mike starts.

“No, no, no, no,” Steve and Dove cut in at the same time.

“No buts,” Dove says sharply, eyes locked on Mike, who is still crouched on the floor.

“Dove and I promised to keep you shitheads safe,” Steve adds, voice stern and unyielding. “And that’s exactly what I plan on doing, okay? We’re staying here.”

“On the bench,” Dove adds quickly, glancing at Max just in time to catch her head loll back, her eyes starting to roll.

“And we’re waiting for the starting team to do their job,” Steve finishes, pointing emphatically at the ground with each word.

“What he said,” Dove adds, jerking her head toward him. “Everyone understand?”

Despite being in the same class since at least third grade, Dove and Steve do not really know each other. Dove knows Steve’s reputation. Steve knows Dove is hot, that there is some kinda bet that the football team has with her, and that Tommy once said, I heard she punched James Harold and broke his nose when he tried to make a move on her, back when they were sophomores watching her play volleyball. 

“This isn’t a stupid sports game!” Mike snaps back.

“She said, ‘does everyone understand?’” Steve repeats, firmer this time. He pulls the towel off his shoulder and shakes it at the group. “I need a yes.”

Dove watches his profile as he speaks, a small flutter erupting in her stomach.

Seriously? Again?

Max’s head was back and looking at the ceiling, Mike’s gaze was forward not really giving an emotion other than disappointment, Dustin and Lucas looked at the two, eyes bouncing back and forth between them.

As Dustin's chest began to rise to give a response, it held as everyone flooded towards the window when a loud engine revving sound bellowed through the dark. Max ran forward first, followed by Dove closely behind as they recognized the sound of the engine a little too well.

“Shit,” Dove muttered as the sound of rock music began to get closer. Steve looked at her with question, one brow raised. “It’s Billy.”

“He can’t know I’m here, he’ll kill me, he’ll kill us.” Max looked mostly at Lucas as she said the last part.

“Of course, of course not only is he a dick but he's also a racist,” Dove mutters, pinching the space between her brows again. God she could really use that cigarette right now.

“What do we do?” Max turns back to look at Dove, who has quickly become way more of an older sibling figure in the past couple of weeks then Billy has ever been.

For once in her life, Dove does not have a plan. She always has a plan, but right now her mind stalls, letting out a low, ringing whine as Billy’s last words to her echo back.

Next time I see you, you’ll pay for that.

She knows he was embarrassed. Billy probably never had a girl move against his advances before. And the slap left everyone giggling and 'oh'ing at him. 

She has not seen him since she slapped him, she’s skipped homeroom everyday since. That was last week.

Fuck. She is scared.

“I’ll talk to him,” Steve says quickly.

He has been watching Dove the entire time, even as Max looks to her for reassurance. Just because Dove and Steve do not know each other well does not mean he is unaware of who she is. He has heard the stories of the blonde who has zero problem putting guys in their place.

But Steve also saw her just a few hours ago, stepping in front of the kids with nothing but a brick in her hand, throwing it at the demo-dogs to distract them without hesitation.

Seeing her freeze now, at the thought of Billy coming inside, especially after hearing the whispers about her slapping him last week, tells him everything he needs to know.

Billy is even more of a dick than he thought.

Billy’s lights cut off as he stepped out into the brisk early November air. He takes a drag of his cigarette as he looks upon the front of the Byer’s house.

“Am I dreaming or is that you, Harrington?”

Steve takes in a deep breath of annoyance, “Yeah, it’s me. Don’t cream your pants.”

Billy’s eyes move to the right slightly, catching sight of Dove’s blue Chevy Cavalier. He huffs and then sheds his leather jacket quickly as Steve steps off the porch.

“What are you doing here, amigo?” Billy asks as he walks closer to Steve.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Steve responds as they close the distance between them. “Amigo.”

Dove knows better than to be doing what she is doing right now, but she honestly cannot help it. She and the kids are squished together on the couch beneath the front window, crouched as low as possible while still keeping the two older boys in the driveway in view.

“I think he saw my car,” Dove whispers to Max beside her.

“That’s not good,” Max whispers back. “Steve might actually die now.”

Dove does not push that comment any further. Not right now.

Dustin tries to squeeze in closer, shifting everyone along the couch. A hushed argument breaks out between the boys, the volume creeping up despite their best efforts.

Dove cuts it off by flicking Mike on the head just as he starts to argue louder.

“Shut up,” she whispers sharply, “or we’re all moving.”

Billy drags the cigarette again, never letting it leave his lips as he mutters around it. “I’m looking for my stepsister. A little birdie told me she was here.”

Steve’s tongue runs across the inside of his bottom lip before he responds. “Huh, that’s weird. I don’t know her.”

“Small? Redhead? Bit of a bitch?”

“Doesn’t ring a bell. Sorry, buddy.”

Billy pulls the cigarette from his mouth now, looking at the ground, nodding and chuckling slightly. “You know, I don’t know this whole situation, Harrington, it’s giving me the heebie-jeebies.”

“Oh yeah, why’s that?” Steve asks with a smirk.

Billy takes a hit of the cigarette again before pulling it out and using his opposite hand to point to Dove’s car. “My thirteen year old sister goes missing all day with my girl, and then I come here, and see my girls car in the yard-” Steve’s head jerks to see Dove’s blue car sticking out like a sore thumb in the driveway- “and I find them here with you in a stranger’s house, and you’re lying to me about it.”

Steve chuckles, albeit nervously, but he’s hoping it plays off better than that. “Well, I don’t know if she’s your girl anymore…”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Billy takes half a step closer to Steve, daring him to continue.

“I just mean, after what happened last week in homeroom, I didn't think you guys were together, but either way she’s not here. Your stepsister isn't here either.”

“Really?”

“Were you dropped too much as a child or something?” Steve’s pretty proud of himself, he doesn’t think he’s ever lied this well. “She’s not here.”

Billy chuckles, getting closer to Steve, using his cigarette to point behind him. “Then who is that?”

Steve looks back quickly to the window, seeing the five people he left back in the house try to duck very quickly.

“Shit! Did he see us?” Dustin calls as his butt slams on the ground with a thud.

Dove’s breath quickens for a second. “Yeah, he definitely did.” She motions for all of them to stand quickly and gets in front of them as she hears a thud of what she assumes is Steve’s body hit the ground and groans outside. Then the door opens and she is face to face with Billy Hargroove.

“Well, well, well,” Billy says as he looks into the room.

Dove stands in front of the four tweens, trying to look big and scary, even though she’s terrified. None of the guys she has ever had to defend herself against had threatened her back, and that is new territory for her. As tough as she likes to pretend she is, and as tough as she actually is, she is still a five-foot-five blonde with a louder bark than bite. Billy is much taller than her and, from experience, much stronger.

She only knows one of the kids well. Lucas Sinclair. She has babysat him and his little sister more times than she can count since her freshman year. Seeing the fear in his eyes, the way he grips Max’s hand, makes something in her lock into place.

She plants her feet.

She stands her ground.

She will bark loud and bite harder.

“Lucas Sinclair and Dove Jones, what a surprise.” Billy is walking into the room quickly and Dove is backing up, moving the tweens behind her like they’re her ducklings in the process.

“I thought I told you to stay away from him, Max,” Billy snapped towards his stepsister.

“Billy, go away,” Max mutters from behind Dove.

“You disobeyed me,” Billy replies immediately.

“Hey, that’s enough,” Dove says, stepping even further in front of him, reacting instinctively to his tone and trying to keep as much distance as possible between him and the kids.

Billy’s hand snaps out, fingers wrapping around Dove’s throat. Her breath catches in a sharp gasp as he squeezes. Her airway tightens instantly, panic flooding in as tears well in her eyes.

“I will get to you next.”

He tosses her aside with brutal ease. Dove stumbles back and hits the wall hard, collapsing to the floor, letting out a choked sound as she tries to get more air.

Billy turns his attention back to Max and Lucas, now unprotected. “You know what happens when you disobey me, Max?” he asks, forcing them farther into the house.

“Billy…” Max mutters, her voice small, almost pleading.

“I break things.”

Everything happens too fast to process. Billy grabs the front of Lucas’s shirt and slams the thirteen-year-old against the wall. He spits words at him, snarling about how maybe Lucas will listen since Max will not, while Max and the other boys scream at him to stop.

Dove is still on the ground, coughing, one hand clutching her chest. Dustin rushes to her side to help her sit up. As Billy yells in Lucas’s face, warning him to stay away from Max, Lucas reacts instinctively.

“I said get off of me!” he yells, driving a swift kick into Billy’s groin.

Billy staggers back, regaining his composure before yelling again.

“You are so dead, Sinclair!” Billy roars. “You’re dead!”

Something rushes past Dove as Billy storms forward. Musky cologne, sweat, and something sickly sweet hit her senses all at once.

“No, you are.”

Like a knight in shining armor, Steve shoves Billy back and swings. His punch lands square on Billy’s face.

“Steve!” Dove calls, pushing herself up with Dustin’s help, trying to move toward him. Before she can, Max and Dustin grab her, holding her back as they rush to Lucas. She pulls the boy into a hug, then pulls back holding his face, scanning quickly for injuries. He looks shaken, but unharmed.

Billy laughs harshly, wiping blood from his nose as he turns back to Steve. “Looks like you got some fire in you after all, huh? I’ve been waiting to meet this King Steve everybody’s been telling me so much about!”

They stand face to face, chests heaving. On one end, it's a pissing contest, on the other, Dove sees a protectiveness in Steve Harrington she thought she'd never see from him. Because everything she's heard about Steve came in rumors and well...this is not who she had heard about doing keg stands at parties and wooing girls. The guy she's seen and spoken with today is way nicer and way cooler than King Steve.

Steve presses two fingers into Billy’s exposed chest.

“Get out.”

It all explodes again. Billy swings. Steve dodges, stepping back and landing another punch squarely on him.

“Yes! Kick his ass, Steve!” Dustin yells. “Kill the son of a bitch!”

Billy staggers into the sink. He grabs a plate and smashes it over Steve’s head.

“Holy shit,” Dove mutters, trying to break free again. The kids stop her.

Why do they keep doing that?

Billy launches himself forward, fists slamming into Steve again and again. He drives him into the next room, gripping his jacket and growling, “No one tells me what to do.” He headbutts Steve, sending him crashing to the floor.

Steve sees double, then triple. Billy looms above him, raining down punches with clear intent to kill.  An intent Dove sees immediately.

Without much thought other than the need to save Steve, Dove decides now is the time to use all the skills her older brother taught her in fighting.

Steve barely registers the flash of blonde above him as Dove breaks free from the kids grasps and pleads, charging forward. She kicks Billy hard in the side, knocking him off Steve.

Billy hits the floor. Dove kicks him again, harder this time, before straddling him and swinging.

“That’s for not stopping when I asked you twice!” Punch.

“That’s for flirting with my mom!” Punch.

“And that’s for grabbing my ass in homeroom!” Punch.

“And this one’s for trying to hurt a kid and Steve!”

Okay, maybe not every punch needed commentary.

Billy’s hand snaps back around her throat again. She is yanked off balance and slammed to the floor beside Steve.

“I told you you were next, princess. But since you’re so eager…”

His face is inches from hers. Dove claws at his wrist, her other hand coming up too late as he slaps her hard. Her vision fractures.

She kicks and gasps, panic surging as her strength drains away. She is getting weaker. The world darkens at the edges. Breathing slips further and further out of reach.

Max and the boys scream. They yell for Steve to get up, for Dove to get up.

Max’s eyes flick to the side. She spots a vial, medicine they had used on Will to sedate him.

Perfect.

She moves fast, grabbing the syringe and lunging forward, jabbing it into Billy’s neck.

Billy releases Dove as he staggers back. She sucks in a desperate breath, air finally flooding her lungs, before everything goes heavy and she slips into unconsciousness.

“From here on out, you leave me and my friends alone. Do you understand?” Max says coldly, standing over Billy’s dazed body. Steve’s nail bat is raised at her side, ready to swing.

Billy mutters, “Screw you.”

“Say you understand! Say it! Say it!” Max screams, echoing the words that had been said to her by the two older teens minutes before.

“I understand.”

----

There is a smell. Dove notices it first. A sloshing sound follows, and then she realizes she is moving much faster than she remembers.

“Nancy?” a voice questions beside her. Steve’s voice.

Everything fades in and out. She tries hard to blink away the grogginess, but her eyes will not open.

“No, don’t touch it,” she hears Dustin say, presumably to Steve, because she also hears his groans. “It’s okay, you put up a good fight. He kicked your ass, but you put up a good fight. If it wasn’t for Dove, he probably would’ve killed you.”

“What’s going on?” Steve’s voice sounds distant.

“Dustin, can you make sure Dove’s, like, I don’t know, breathing?” Max calls from somewhere in front of her.

“Yeah, yeah, for sure,” Dustin responds. Dove feels a smaller hand press gently to her neck. The curly-haired boy is checking her pulse.

“Okay, you’re gonna keep straight for half a mile, then make a left on Mount Sinai,” Lucas tells the driver.

Wait. Who’s driving?

Steve should not be driving.

Dove definitely is not driving.

“Dustin, is she breathing?”

“Why wouldn’t she be breathing?” Steve’s voice is pained and groggy as Dove feels him sit up beside her. Then he stiffens. He sees who is driving. “Oh my God.”

Max glances back at him quickly before snapping her eyes forward again, trying to remember everything she was taught about driving. It is not much, but she believes in herself. Mostly.

“Steve, relax, she’s driven before,” Dustin tries to say calmly.

Mike does not help when he adds, “Yeah, in a parking lot!”

“That counts!” Lucas argues from the front seat.

Okay, Dove. Time to get up.

Her eyes open as she groans, pushing herself upright. She is squished between Dustin and Steve, most of her weight still resting on Steve. He keeps muttering, “Oh my God,” while Dustin starts explaining that Mike and Lucas wanted to leave them behind, but he and Max argued. They promised they would be cool. Well, Dove would be cool about it, Max was sure. Dustin was less sure about Steve, but he could not leave him behind.

Dove sits up fully now, pain sharp in her throat as she tries to speak.

“Hey, hey, don’t try to talk,” Dustin says quickly, shushing her the same way he did Steve earlier. “Your neck doesn’t look too great externally. I bet it’s not better internally.”

“Stop the car!” Steve yells beside her.

“I told you he’d freak out,” Mike says pointedly to Dustin.

“Everybody shut up! I’m trying to focus!” Max yells from the driver’s seat.

“That’s Mount Sinai! Make a left!” Lucas points too late.

Max turns sharply, the car swerving as they take out a mailbox in the process.

Everyone screams. Dove clutches Steve’s arm.

The tweens and the two babysitters shift with the sudden turn. Dove falls into Steve, dizziness washing over her again. He reacts immediately, arm wrapping around her to keep her from slumping forward into his lap.

“Why wouldn’t she be breathing?” Steve asks, adjusting her upright. Her back is pressed against his side, his right arm firm between her shoulder blades. Her head lolls back briefly.

“Because Billy tried to strangle her when she kicked him off you,” Dustin explains, leaning forward so Steve can hear him.

“Tried? He did strangle her!” Mike argues. “We thought she wasn’t breathing when we went to move her into the car!”

“Do you have to argue with everything I say tonight?” Dustin snaps, leaning farther forward.

Steve looks down at the blonde beside him. Her hair, slightly frizzy before, is now flattened by damp night air, beginning to curl in its natural pattern. Blood darkens the upper part of the maroon Nike crewneck she is wearing. Dried blood rests beneath her nose. 

What worries him most is the dark bruise forming on her throat.

It looks incredibly painful. His stomach churns at the thought of her struggling to breathe.

For just a second, the noise of the kids fades. It becomes distant, unimportant. All he can feel is the weight of her against him. Her breathing is uneven, and the worry tightens in his chest. He wonders if they should be going to a hospital.

Maybe it is just adrenaline. Maybe it's something else, but whatever it is makes his chest burn. He knows what that feeling is and that shooks him. He broke up with Nancy barely two hours ago. Did they break up? Are they broken up? It does not matter. Anyone would feel this way, right? Anyone would want to make sure she is cared for, protected, never touched like that again.

Okay. Not the time, Harrington.

Max slams on the brakes as they reach their destination, the tunnels. The tweens tumble out of the car, opening the trunk of Billy’s stolen vehicle. Is it stealing if it belongs to Max’s stepbrother? That feels like semantics Steve will deal with later.

Dove pushes herself away from Steve and stumbles out of the car, trying to tell the kids to hold on, wait up.

“Oh no, guys,” Steve groans, bracing himself against the open passenger door as Mike walks past him. “Hey, where do you think you’re going?”

He is ignored.

“What are you deaf? Hello?! We are not going down there right now. I thought I made myself clear!”

Steve moves quickly, trying to stop them. His eyes flick to Dove as she reaches into the trunk, pulling things out and putting them on.

“Steve, you’re upset. I get it,” Dustin says, stopping him. “But the bottom line is, a party member requires assistance, and it is our duty to provide that assistance.”

Steve looks at Dustin, then at the others waiting near the tunnel's entrance. He looks back at Dove. She has lab goggles pulled on and a vintage scarf tied around her face. How did she get on board with the plan so fast?

“And I know you promised Nance you would keep us safe,” Dustin continues.

“It’s not just that,” Steve cuts in. “Billy almost killed Dove. We need to get her to a hospital or something. Right now.”

Dove steps toward him, one hand settling on his shoulder. With the other, she presses a mask and bandanna into his chest.

“Steve,” she says with a strained voice, meeting his eyes. “I will be okay. He’s right. There are bigger fish to fry, and if we don’t go with them, we can’t keep them safe.”

Dustin pulls Steve’s backpack from the trunk, the nail bat sticking out. “So keep us safe.”

Steve looks between Dove, Dustin, and the backpack.

Dove smiles at him. He can see it even behind the scarf.

“I figured red was your color.” She places the red bandanna and yellow goggles into his hand before moving toward the tunnels with Dustin and the rest of the kids, stumbling slightly as she goes.

Shit.

“Left, right. Left, right. Left, right.”

Dove repeats it in her head as they move through the tunnels. Flecks of what looks like snow drift through the air around her, catching in her hair and on her clothes. She knows she's not fine. She probably has damage to her vocal cords or like, brain damage from a lack of air. But the thought of going to a hospital makes her incredibly uncomfortable. Eventually, maybe she'll go. Because her body feels loose and unreliable, like she is slightly detached from it. The closest thing she can compare it to is being drunk. She has only been really drunk twice before, and this feels just as bad, if not worse.

Steve leads the way, insisting he will get all the blame if any of the kids die down here. He tells himself it is a joke, but the weight of it sits heavy in his chest. Every few steps, he looks back, counting heads. One, two, three, four, five. All five. Still there. His eyes always land on Dove last, checking that she is upright, that she is moving, that she has not disappeared behind him.

He sees her stumble and watches Max reach out to steady her.

“Jones,” he calls. “Come here.”

She pauses, as if she's unsure he's speaking to her. He fights an eye roll and marches back to her. He does not wait for her to argue, he grabs her arm and tucks it around his, keeping her flush against his side. It is easier to control this way. Easier to know she is still standing. Because that's what matters right now, keeping her standing. That's all this is. 

“Left, right. Left, right. Left, right,” she mutters as they walk.

“You know I can hear you, right?” Steve says quietly.

She looks up at him, green eyes glassy behind the lab goggles. “I’d rather you hear it than them. Just make sure I don’t trip, Pretty Boy.”

In any other situation, Steve would have laughed. He probably would have flirted. He registers the thought distantly, then shoves it aside. This is not the time. Not with the strange snow drifting through the air, not with the spores clinging to the walls, not with the way her weight leans just a little too heavily into his side.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Dustin yells from behind them.

Dove spins around too fast. The world tilts and smears for a second, and she presses into Steve instinctively. His arm tightens around her before he even thinks about it.

“Help!”

The scream snaps Dove into focus. She moves a step faster than Steve, dropping down in front of Dustin, who is on his hands and knees, coughing and yelling, “It’s in my mouth! Some got in my mouth!”

Steve is right there with her, crouching as Dustin spits and coughs, trying to clear whatever it is from his mouth. Steve’s mind races ahead, jumping to worst-case scenarios he does not want to name. Infection. Poison. Something crawling inside him, like the movie “Alien”. He forces himself to stay still, to stay useful.

Dustin looks up, his face warped by the full-face swim mask, his top lip pulled up awkwardly.

“I’m okay.”

Dove rubs her temple, that cigarette still sounds amazing.

“Very funny, man,” Steve mutters, standing, scanning the tunnel because staying still might cause a problem.

The other kids groan, muttering under their breath.

“Hang on, wait, wait,” Dustin says as he scrambles to follow.

Dove moves to catch up but her footing slips again. The dizziness rolls through her slower this time, heavier. She bumps into the tunnel wall, her shoulder catching first. Something pulls through her lungs as she tries to breathe deeply, a shiver running up her spin as she does so. Her body trying to shake the feeling. Nausea tries to creep up but she swallows that down as well.

“Shit,” she winces, her chest tightening as she pulls in a shallow breath.

Steve takes three steps before something feels wrong. He turns back, counting the heads. Only four. Five, there should be five. Shit, Dove. He sees her propped against the side of the tunnel. 

“Shit. Sorry, sorry,” he says quickly. “I didn’t mean to leave you.”

Dove looks up at him, forcing her expression steady, forcing her breathing to even out. “I’m good. I’m good.”

Saying it twice almost makes it true.

Steve does not buy it for a second, but he nods anyway. “Yeah, okay, Wonder Woman. Let’s go.”

He pulls her back against him, keeping her tucked into his side as he calls ahead for the kids to stop and wait. His grip stays firm, protective, unwilling to loosen as they move forward again.

They’ve reached the hub, drenched it in gasoline and all sit at the edge of one of the tunnels.

What the actual fuck is going on?

“You guys ready?” Steve asked, looking back to the others.

“Ready” choruses from the tweens and then Steve makes eye contact with Dove.

She takes a deep breath, just to make sure she can since she feels a little better now, nodding.

“Light her up,” Dustin says from Steve’s side.

“We are in such deep shit,” Steve says to Dove, pulling a lighter out of the breast pocket of his jacket, lighting it and then throwing it into the hub.

It’s quick. Tentacles flail. Steve is yelling, “Go, go, go!” and they are sprinting back toward the tunnel entrance.

Dove’s Converse lace catches on something. Her leg is suddenly wrapped by one of the strange, root-like tentacles, and she can barely scream, her throat still aching. “Help!”

“Dove!” Max grabs her arms, using all of her thirteen-year-old strength to pull her free.

“Everyone back!” Steve yells as he rushes in, swinging his bat down hard and severing the root, giving Dove just enough room to kick it away.

He looks at her immediately, eyes scanning her for injuries. She is fine, you know, besides the bruises from being strangled and the fact her eyes are bloodshot.

A screech echoes behind them, and Steve lifts his bat again, ready.

“Dart,” Dustin breathes, naming the lizard dog. Steve’s hand grips Dustin’s shoulder as they face the creature.

Dustin steps forward.

Everyone protests at once, telling him to get back, but he shushes them. “Trust me. Please.”

Somehow, Dustin reasons with the creature, holding out a candy bar and waving everyone past.

Steve does not hesitate. He scoops Dove up, not giving her time to stumble. Her arms instinctively loop around his neck to help, and it is only then that she realizes how weak she really is. Despite that, she knows she can't latch onto Steve Harrington, neither physically nor emotionally. 

“Steve,” she murmurs as they watch Dustin say goodbye to the lizard dog. “You can put me down. I’m okay.”

“No way, Wonder Woman,” Steve says, already distrusting her definition of okay. He commits to the decision fully when more screeching sounds echo through the tunnels.

Steve boosts her up the hole first. She scrambles through, then immediately reaches back down, grabbing Max’s hand and pulling her up with the last of her strength. One by one, the rest of the kids follow.

The monsters’ noises grow louder. Dustin and Steve are the last two still below.

“Dustin, grab my hand!” Dove yells.

Everything slows. She watches the lizard dogs charge toward them, and then, just as she thinks they are about to attack, they rush right past.

Steve scoops Dustin against his chest, bat raised in his free hand, ready to fight. None of them stop. They have a new mission.

“Eleven,” Mike whispers.

Dove pushes past the others, reaching down again. “Come on, let’s go!”

Dustin grabs her hand as Steve hoists him up, then follows quickly behind. Once both boys are through, the group scrambles back, dusting themselves off as headlights flood the clearing.

Billy’s car.

The light is so bright they have to shield their eyes.

And then, just like that, it is over.

Steve exhales in relief too soon, because Dove collapses beside him, barely giving him time to catch her.

-----

After a painful discussion with Dustin on what he thought they should do next and if Steve should be allowed to drive, Steve returns all the kids to the Byers’ house. He then switches Billy’s car out for Dove’s and drives her to his place. Max begs to come with them, but Steve shuts it down when he notices Billy is no longer lying on the living room floor. Where he went and how he got there is a mystery Steve does not care to figure out tonight.

He tells Max it is probably best for her to stay the night with the boys and let her stepbrother cool off. Joyce Byers agrees after seeing the state of both Steve and Dove.

Then the thought of Billy waking up and coming after the kids or Dove makes Steve’s stomach twist. He is afraid he would have to step in again, and frankly, he cannot take another beating from him. Or anyone.

He will win a fight one day. He swears it.

Dove regains consciousness at the Byers house after collapsing in the pumpkin patch. Her words are a little slurred at first and Steve catches her slipping in and out of consciousness a few times. She keeps brushing it off as exhaustion. Joyce tells them both that they need to head to the ER and offers to call Hopper to drive them. Dove is admit she is fine and Steve is as well. Though he's sure he has a concussion but he can head to the doctor on Monday to handle that...maybe.

Steve is fairly convinced, though, that Dove might be dying. Her neck looks awful, littered in dark purple spots that are only getting darker. Somehow though, she convinces him to not take her to the hospital (it was probably the way her voice broke in a plead and he saw her eyes water at the thought). He doesn't love the idea of going home to an empty house and he's sure Dove will not want questions from her parents either.

So they compromise on going back to the Harrington residence together.

Steve is surprised he doesn't see Nancy before leaving the Byers's residence but maybe that's for the best. He's not in the greatest condition to deal with his feelings about Nancy and Jonathans...friendship or what his and Nancy's relationship is right now. 

All those thoughts come to a halt though when he and Dove pull into his driveway and he unlocks the door to his house. 

The Harrington house big and incredibly empty. His parents being gone on business trips more and more as he has gotten older has left the manor like home almost entirely to him.

Dove is not used to this kind of quiet. Her house is smaller and always alive. Her mom and grandma bickering over nothing, her older sister barging in with her oldest and dropping him off without warning, music playing, a tv going, something always happening. It never feels like she gets a moment of peace.

But the silence in Steve’s house presses in, making her feel something uncomfortably close to sadness.

“It’s so quiet,” she whispers. She doesn’t need to, but the stillness makes her feel like she should.

Steve looks at her plainly. “Yeah. It’s like that all the time here. My parents are gone most days out of the year since I was, like, fifteen.”

Dove frowns. “That must suck.”

Steve shrugs. “Meh. Not really. I have… well, had people over a lot. Just not as much lately.”

His eyes drift away from the blonde as he turns toward the kitchen.

She follows a few steps behind, her footsteps soft, her head still foggy as she tries to keep herself steady. That feeling makes her look up to Steve, his face is royally fucked up. How she didn't notice it before evades her but now she feels guilty for not going to the hospital. 

"Hey uh, if you need to go to the ER you know we can, I'd just rather not get examined myself or whatever," Dove finds herself saying as she walks into the kitchen

Steve pokes his head out from the fridge, looking back at her, "Oh, uh, no, nah, it's fine. This isn't my first time getting my ass kicked, it should be okay."

Dove purses her lips, nodding slowly as she thinks back to the image of the plate shattering on his head and then being punched repeatedly. God, he might be as stubborn as she is. Her thought is broken up by the sound of glass rattling against glass in the fridge, where Steve's whole top half is in scavenging for food.

“Gross, gross, gross, ohh- oh wait nevermind that’s old.”

Dove’s eyes trail around the room. It is so different from her family’s. Everything looks like it belongs in a magazine, like no one actually lives here. One, maybe two family photos; Steve’s mom, his dad, and himself. A fridge empty of drawings or report cards.

Her heart aches for the boy reaching into the cabinets, pulling out a loaf of bread.

After everything they just went through, everything they experienced today, he had been fully prepared to come back here alone. Dove’s mind cannot quite comprehend it.

King Steve. Someone Dove has never given much thought to other than the whispered that trailed his naps in the halls and class. Rich parents, perfect hair, beautiful girlfriend, and therefore he had to be a douche. She was convinced of it. She never really saw him do anything outright douchey herself, but she heard about him breaking Jonathan Byers's camera last year. And then just watched as his friends spray painted Nancy “The Slut” Wheeler on The Hawk marquee. Well, maybe old friends now, she hasn't seen him really hanging out with Tommy and Carol too much this year. 

But Steve, just Steve, seems a lot like a person Dove would want to be around. Funny, pleasant, heroic in a way that makes her heart do that tings she's been fighting. Making her slightly resent him for being something she never thought he'd be. 

Dove had always been an action first kind of person. Shoot first, ask questions later. She never once had a problem with standing up for people she cared for like her friend Nicole, or her mom or even her older brother and sister. And she never once hesitated in standing up for herself, because having sibling 11 and 12 years older then you, you never had anyone around to do it for you. They were always gone. So seeing Steve Harrington show so much care and concern, throwing himself into danger and protecting not only those kids but her while barely knowing them makes her way more intrigued by him then she ever was before.

Like a knight, she thinks to herself again.

And that leads to her staring at Steve as he rummages through his fridge and cabinet, comparing him to every guy she's had a fling or something with. 

There was no denying Dove Jones was a smoke show. Beautiful curly blonde hair, dazzling green eyes, curves that made every girl jealous, and stunning features. Since puberty she had been sought after by boys and unfortunately even men, disgusting older men. But her peers that went after her all wanted that prized notch in their belts. She'd been catcalled relentlessly throughout her youth, hit on and even touched without her permission in passing. It sucked. No guy, besides one, had ever allowed her to voice how she felt in this "bet" in bedding her. They all wanted to see how close they could get to Dove Jones. And by this point in hanging out with a guy, they would've usually kit on her or said something about sleeping with her. Yet Steve hasn't and that makes her desire to linger around him grow. 

“Grilled cheese?”

His question pulls her from where she was staring at the floor. “Hm?”

“Do you want a grilled cheese?”

It’s almost laughable, actually, it is laughable, because Dove starts giggling. The giggles spill out of her before she can stop them, bubbling up into full-on laughter until she’s clutching her stomach, doubling over like it physically hurts to keep it in.

Steve just stares at her, wide-eyed. Had he said something funny? He runs through the last few seconds in his head, coming up empty. For a brief, very sincere moment, he wonders if he should just take her to the hospital. Hallucinations feel like a possibility after being strangled.

She straightens slowly, dragging in a breath, wiping at the tear that’s escaped beneath her eye. When she looks at him and catches his completely blank expression, she lets out a shaky laugh.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she says, still breathless. “It’s just…what the fuck just happened?”

That’s… fair, Steve thinks. A very fair question. He turns it over in his mind, the whole day replaying itself all at once, where they are now, and then it hits him.

He laughs. Not a chuckle, but real laughter, uncontrollable and sudden, until they’re both standing there laughing hysterically, the absurdity of it all crashing down at the same time.

When they finally calm down, both of them end up leaning back against the counter, eyes cast toward the floor. Steve runs a hand through his hair and glances over at Dove. She is still clutching her stomach, but her laughter has faded. The smile she had moments ago has slipped into a frown, and he notices tears beginning to gather in her eyes.

“Are you okay?” It’s a stupid question. Steve knows it the moment it leaves his mouth.

Dove looks up at him, blinks once, and a tear spills down her cheek. “I don’t think I have ever been more scared than when I heard Billy’s car pull up to that house.”

Her honesty catches Steve off guard. He turns back to the stove, focusing on the task in front of him, buttering the bread and setting it into the pan.

“Yeah,” he says in a sigh after a moment. “I don’t think I’ve had a worse night, to be honest.”

Dove takes a slow breath, fighting the urge to cry.

Why does she want to cry? She never cries.

Her head tips back slightly as she does. Steve sneaks another glance at her. The light from the pool deck spills in behind her, casting a soft glow around her silhouette. Her blonde hair catches it, forming the same halo-like brightness he from earlier, from the moment she kicked Billy off of him.

“Thanks for, uh… risking your life for me.” Steve flips the sandwiches in the pan, keeping his eyes there as he speaks. “I probably would’ve been in critical condition if it wasn’t for you, so…”

Dove looks over at him then. He looks so… domestic, soft, not like the asshole girls on the volleyball team whispered about. He’s just standing there at the stove, focused on flipping grilled cheese. Handsome. That is the word that comes to mind as well.

Dove swallows, then lets out a small, breathy laugh that doesn’t quite land.

“Yeah,” she says quietly, the cuts on her hands becoming very interesting all of the sudden. “Well, you’re welcome, don’t mention it.” She pauses, then adds, softer, “You would’ve done the same.”

Steve shrugs, still focused on the pan. “Maybe.”

She tilts her head, watching him for a moment. “What, you would’ve let Billy beat the shit out of me? Wow, Steve. And here I thought we were becoming friends.”

“What? No! That’s not what I meant—” He looks up from what he’s doing, catches the smirk on her face, and stops short. “That’s mean.”

“I know, Pretty Boy.” There’s a beat before she speaks again. “But seriously, you didn’t hesitate to step in, that’s pretty cool of you. Heroic, even.”

He glances at her, surprised, then looks away again, his cheeks warming. “I mean… I hesitated a little. Internally. There was definitely a moment where I thought, ‘This is it. This is how you die.’”

Dove snorts, pressing her lips together like she’s trying not to smile. “Very comforting.”

“I’m just saying,” he continues, flipping one of the sandwiches, “I wasn’t exactly a hero. I mean, look at my face.”

She considers that, unable to ignore the black eye and split lip. “Well, you don’t need to win every fight to be a hero.”

Steve stills for half a second, then clears his throat.

Dove turns her head at the sound. “What?”

He slides a grilled cheese onto a plate and turns, handing it to her. She takes it with both hands, pausing as she really looks at him. The cut on his lip has started bleeding again.

“You’re bleeding,” she says, lifting one hand from the plate and touching her own lip, mirroring where she sees the blood on him.

Steve reaches up, fingers brushing his mouth, pulling them back to inspect the blood.

Dove sets her plate down quickly and grabs a towel from the stove door. Without thinking twice, she steps closer and dabs gently at his lip. She freezes once she’s done, realizing how close they are. Their eyes meet. His are the warmest shade of brown, almost honey-like when the light hits them.

“Probably should ice your eye too,” she says, breaking the silence as she turns back to her plate on the island.

Steve stares at her for a second, completely unfocused, before the smell of his grilled cheese snaps him back. He turns to the stove just in time to save it, trying to shake the buzzy feeling of her being so close to him.

What’s wrong with you, Harrington? You have a girlfriend…well, at least I think I still have a girlfriend.

“How do you feel?” he asks, plating his sandwich, suddenly remembering Dove is actually in worse condition than him.

Dove takes a bite of her grilled cheese. It’s good. Not incredible, but good. “Fine.”

Steve raises an eyebrow. “I don’t believe that.”

“And why’s that?” she asks around a mouthful.

“Because the kids said you were strangled, I had to hold you up in those tunnels…” he trails off as his stomach twists when he looks back at her, eyes landing on where her throat has turned a harsh shade of blue and purple. “And you look like someone tried to kill you.”

He watches Dove's face consider that before speaking around the bite she took. “It’s okay.”

“Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“You literally almost died, so stop saying you’re okay.”

“But I am okay,” Dove argues, gesturing to herself. She looks rough. Bloodstains on her burgundy crewneck, dirt on her jeans, her Converse ruined. But she’s still standing.

“You collapsed an hour and a half ago.”

“No, that was—” She checks the clock, expecting it to be later, then pauses. “Huh.”

“Dove,” Steve says, stepping closer. “I seriously think we should take you to the hospital.”

“No.” She meets his eyes, glossy and pleading. “No. That won’t be necessary.”

She takes another bite of her sandwich, avoiding his gaze.

“Why do you keep doing that?” he asks with a huff.

“Doing what?”

“Changing the subject. You were strangled and you’re refusing help when you clearly need it—”

“I don’t need it,” she cuts in, squaring up to him but keeping space. “I promise you I will be okay, I’m a big girl who can fight her own battles. And anyway, why did you bring me here? Won’t your girlfriend be wondering why you brought another girl home?”

She knows she’s deflecting. Changing the subject again to try not to think about her situation, if she doesn’t think about it, then it can’t hurt her.

Steve closes his eyes tightly and exhales through his nose. “Not my girlfriend anymore.”

“What?”

“I said she’s not my girlfriend anymore. Nance, she—we’re—I don’t think we’re together anymore.”

His voice softens at the end. Dove softens with it.

“I’m sorry,” she says honestly. “Think… or know?”

Steve laughs weakly. “Know, at least I think. I’m pretty sure she’s into Jonathan. She just doesn’t lov-like me the way I liked her.”

The word liked catches her attention, or more so the way he stopped himself from saying love. She frowns slightly and pushes herself off the island, stepping beside him at the counter. Their shoulders brush.

“That really sucks,” she says quietly.

“Thanks,” he mutters, offering a small smile.

Dove takes a deep breath and she feels her eyes get heavy again, this time not from being strangled, but actual exhaustion. She doesn’t think about it. She just lets her head tip to the side until it rests against his bicep.

Steve goes still.

For a second, she wonders if she should pull away and apologize, but he exhales, slow, and the tension in his arm eases. He doesn’t move her.

The warmth through the fabric of his shirt is grounding in a way that makes her settle . He smells like sweat and dirt but there’s a musky sandalwood smell underneath it that lingers. Something about it, the warmth, the smell, the exhaustion allows her to feel safe, like she can allow herself to let her part of the situation settle into her. Let her brain actually register with the fact she was almost murdered by Billy Hargrove tonight. Her eyes water again but she doesn’t let the tears fall. Her breathing starts to slow, matching his without her trying to.

“You losing consciousness on me again?” he asks quietly.

“No,” she smiles ever so slightly, laughing at something she might only find funny. “I think I’m just tired.”

“Yeah well, fighting demo-dogs or whatever, and protecting four thirteen year old little shits will do that to ya,” he jokes again making her giggle and groan slightly as her head starts to hurt again at the thought of the weird creatures again.

“Lizard dogs,” she says with a giggle.

“Don’t say that in front of Dustin, it might offend him.”

They both giggle, definitely loopy from exhaustion. It’s nice, her warmth pressed against him, the newness of the situation. There’s no weight or expectation. It feels like it might be the only good thing out of this.

“Normally, I'm very good at being okay after something traumatizing but uh...this is a special case,” Dove finds herself admitting softly, her eyes closed, head still lying on the side of Steve’s arm. “And I don’t admit any of this to people normally so don’t think you're special, pretty boy.”

Steve laughs at her slightly slurred words. “Okay, you got it, Wonder Women.”

She’s pleasantly surprised by his response, expecting him to pry more. She smiles softly, letting a feeling she’s never truly experienced before flutter in her chest brightly.

“I think this might be the strangest way I have ever met someone,” Dove keeps the admissions rolling.

“You say this like we haven’t known each other since the third grade,” Steve responds looking down at her again.

She looks up at him, his eyes are catching the light again, making them that very pretty shade of honey she’s beginning to adore. “Yeah, but like, we haven't really ever spoken.”

Steve thinks on that for a second before realizing she's right. “I guess so.”

“You’re different than I thought you’d be,” she says truthfully, moving her gaze away from him and closing her eyes again.

“In a good way or bad way?”

“Hmm, both,” she teases and smiles as he does the same, shaking her slightly against his arm.

The quiet stretches, not uncomfortably, just there. Steve notices how Dove’s breathing begins to even out.

“Alright Wonder Women, let’s get you to bed so maybe your brain will properly heal.”

Dove doesn’t argue as Steve begins to guide her up the stairs and into his room.

“Take me to dinner first at least,” Dove slurs with a loopy smile.

Steve chuckles, rolling his eyes as he pulls a shirt and some old sweatpants out of his drawer before walking over and handing it to her. “Very funny, bathrooms over there, I’ll be asleep just across the hall in my parents room.”

Dove nods, taking the clothes from him and moving into his bathroom. She doesn’t have the brain power to observe the room, just changes quickly, splashes some water to get the blood off her face and walks back into Steve’s room.

He hasn’t left yet, sitting on the corner of his bed.

“You okay?” She asks as she sits next to him on the bed.

“Yes, but also not really,” he responds truthfully.

She takes his answer for what it is and doesn’t press further, laying her head on his shoulder for a second. “Thank you,” she murmurs quietly.

He doesn’t respond verbally, just leans his head against hers for a second before standing up and grabbing his pajamas off his dresser and goes to leave the room.

In a swift moment, the quiet of the house presses in on her again. In flashes, the night replays in her head and suddenly an overwhelming feeling overtakes her and she realizes that she cannot be alone now.

“Steve,” she stops him just as he’s about to close the door. He looks at her softly, his face still bloody and beaten. His hair doesn’t fall in its perfect way it normally does. “I’m still scared.”

Steve nods, understanding what she means, stepping back into the room. “It’s okay, the demo-dogs are dead, Eleven closed the gate.”

“Not of them,” she admits sheepishly. Her hand reaches up and grazes over the growing bruise, swallowing thickly and now that she lets the situation settle into her, and now she can’t stop replaying it.

The feeling of Billy’s hands wrapped around her throat, squeezing and him going dead eyed, like he wanted her dead on the spot, like the act meant nothing to him. The memory playing over and over again in her head.

Steve watches her and his stomach twists again, a familiar feeling but he’s unsure of what from. Her hand is slightly shaking as it ghosts over the bruise.

He can’t just leave her here by herself. But Nancy…he’s feeling a multitude of complicated feelings as he thinks about Nancy. Finding her with Jonathan earlier that night on the railroad tracks, the fight outside the gym, Tina’s Halloween party. It's all a jumbled mess of feelings and he doesn't know how to fix it but this, this he knows how to fix. 

“I can stay,” Steve offers, fingers twitching at his side. He knows it’s not necessarily the right thing to do since he might still be dating someone else but…he can’t leave her.

Dove nods slowly, not wanting the tears to break from her eyes and is afraid they will if she speaks.

Steve moves into the bathroom, changing quickly before coming back to sit on the edge of the bed. He hesitates, leaving calculated space, and lies down beside her.

Dove stares at the ceiling, eyes heavy but open. The room is quiet except for the sound of his breathing, steady and close enough to count. There’s a charge in the air between them that she doesn’t want to address.

She doesn’t move. Neither does he.

“Goodnight, pretty boy,” she murmurs, mostly to fill the silence.

Steve doesn’t answer right away.

When he does, his voice is low. “Sleep tight, Wonder Woman.”

Dove closes her eyes, but her body doesn’t relax. The space between them stays.

------------------------------------------------------

Taglist:

@amterasuu

comment if you want to be added

[mily-writes-stuff]

Hey guys, I did some rewriting of this because I felt like it sucked before and didn’t make sense with the rest of the story 🫶🏻 if you wanna go back and reread please do!

[mily-writes-stuff]

Savior Complex Drabbles

Steve Harrington x Dove Jones (OC)

Canon in the Savior Complex Universe, these drabbles are little parts of Steve Harrington and Dove Jones' story that didn't quite fit into the narrative of the main storyline.

Summary: Dove and Steve go and see The Breakfast Club and run into some people who like to torment Dove

Warnings: illusions to sexual assault/men being men, self deprecating feelings, feelings of lost, not really proof read but idc (lmk if I missed anything!)

Authors note: I am really excited about this one because I love showing the side of Dove that actually is so lovey dovey hehehehe

Read the on going series here on tumblr & here on ao3!!

The Breakfast Club was a movie Dove had been looking forward to seeing for weeks now. She had heard so much about it from her Aunt in New York who called after seeing an early screening for her publishing firm. So she was ecstatic to see it because she knows her aunt has good taste. 

So, when the Hawk announced the showing for it on Sunday, February 10th, Dove did not hesitate to buy two tickets. The Friday before the showing, Dove was practically buzzing with excitement walking up to her friend Nicole to go with her. 

“Molly Ringwald? Ugh, no thanks,” Nicole scoffed as she opened her locker. 

Dove furrowed her brows together, “What do you mean? I thought you liked her in Sixteen Candles?”

Nicole stays facing her locker, lips pulled together like she’s trying not to say something. 

“Hello? Earth to Nicole?” Dove said, waving the two tickets at her friend's face. “What’s going on with you? You’ve been acting so weird since Christmas?”

“Gee, I wonder why?” Nicole grumbled, cutting her eyes slightly at the blonde. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dove asked, face pulling into even further confusion. 

Nicole was someone Dove had been hanging out with since middle school. She was a dark haired girl with an attitude to match. She had no problem telling people of or saying how she felt, unless it came to Dove. 

Nicole had been distant from Dove since Christmas. And at first, Dove wrote it off as her getting prepped for sending in her final college applications or her new boyfriend who went to Ball State but…she was starting to notice how much Nicole was writing her off more. 

But before Dove could find out why Nicole was saying no to seeing a movie Dove knew she’d enjoy, she felt an overly warm presence on her right side. 

“Hey Wonder Woman,” Steve said as he knocked his shoulder into hers. “Hey Nicole.”

“Hey Steve,” Dove smiled warmly before looking back at Nicole, catching her eye roll at its tail end. 

“I’m gonna be late for class,” Nicole grumbled, slamming her locker shut and stalking off, pushing Steve’s shoulder in the process with hers. 

“Oof,” Steve huffed, rolling with the shove to watch Nicole walk away. “What’s her deal?”

Dove sucked in her bottom lip. She had an idea of what her deal was now but she hoped it wasn’t. To save Steve of the guilt she knew he’d feel, she pulls a smile on her lips and brushes it off showing him the two tickets. 

“Wanna go to The Hawk this Sunday?”

-

It wasn’t a date. Dove knew that. Still, she took the time to blow dry and put her hair in rollers. She also took a little extra time on her makeup, even sporting the new Black Honey lipstick she got the day before. But it wasn’t a date. It was just her and Steve hanging out. Like normal. 

She didn’t want anything, she didn't need anything more than a friend. No, not after what happened in the fall and everything she’d experienced with guys the past couple of years. With senior years coming to a close, college is fast approaching (though she still has no idea what she’s going to do) and she's still trying to figure out who she is, it's just not the time. 

And she still has that sense of…losteness in her. It comes in tandem with the thoughts of her dad and trying to figure out what she’s going to do next. Then all of it gets tangled in with her feelings of being used while just trying to find love. The stupid Dick-Biting Dove Jones bet that runs around Hawkin’s High tormenting the poor girl who just wants a love story and not to feel lost. 

Still, she swallows all those emotions like she always does and puts a smile on her face when she opens the door to Steve. His hair is perfect as ever, sporting his nice winter coat and a red and blue long sleeve polo underneath. 

Stupid, that’s stupid. His polo tucked into his jeans makes her stomach do flips. That’s so stupid Dove, get a grip. 

He smiles, genuinely and so Steve and…oh God she’s doomed. 

“Ready? If we hurry we can probably beat the huge line for popcorn,” Steve said, pointing with his thumb to the still running burgundy beamer on the curb. 

“Yeah, let’s do it,” Dove said, closing the front door behind her and slipping on her own winter coat. 

They do, in fact, beat the line. One large popcorn, two large Cokes, and a M&M’s for each of them. The theater is packed, filled with young adults and other high schoolers from Hawkins High. Dove tries to ignore the group of guys who were on the football team and would try to hit on her. 

Steve finds them a spot towards the left but still close to the middle of the theater. Not bad. And the movie is great, her aunt did not lie. So when they leave, Dove is still buzzing with excitement and Steve is laughing at her recounting her favorite parts. 

“I just don’t understand how the principal never heard them running in the halls,” Steve asks as he pushes open the exit door. 

“Well Pretty Boy, it is a movie, they have to have something be whimsical to move the plot,” Dove laughs, spinning on her heels to look at him as they walk out. 

Just as Steve is about to quip something back, a car comes racing up to the curb behind Dove, making him shoot his hand out and pull her towards him so she doesn’t get hit. 

“Watch out,” Steve exhales as he pulls her into his side. 

The black sedan comes to a screeching halt, a one of boys Dove recognizes as the football team she was trying to avoid hollering inside of it. 

“Easy there Jones, if you wanted me so bad you don’t have to jump in front of my car, you could just ask,” Jason Teegs says with a laugh, his eyes moving to Steve beside her after a second. “Harrington.”

“Jason,” Steve replies back with a curt nod. 

Dove rolls her eyes, beginning to move around the car when another whistle stops her dead in her tracks. 

“Wow Dove, didn’t expect to see you out on a Sunday,” another football player, Chris Redding, says after letting out a low wolf whistle. 

He circles Dove like a shark as he goes to enter the back seat of the car. His eyes are dark and heavy with a hunger Dove recognizes and does not want. He presses in a little closer to her, breath reeking of alcohol that him and the other snuck into the theater. 

“Wanna get in with us, we can all have some fun together?” He slurs, face way to close to hers. 

Dove’s face contorts into discussion, pushing him away from her quickly. “Get lost, Chris, you’re a pig.” 

Chris’s hand catches Dove’s wrist, pulling her back into him quickly. His teeth are clenched together in anger and determination, not wanting to take no. 

“I said, get—”

Before she can even finish the sentence, she’s pulled back entirely from Christ, that same overly warm body stepping in front of her. 

“You heard her, Redding, she said get lost.”

Steve’s voice is low and if Dove was on the other end of it, she’d definitely find it scary. His broad shoulders take up most of her vision, her eyes barely coming over the top of them unless she presses up on her toes. Which she does, watching as Chris’s face contorts into a laugh. 

“Alright Harrington, suit yourself, if you wanna get you dick bit—”

“Oh just shut the hell up Chris, no one wants you anyway, not after what Tina told everyone about your bedroom skills.”  

Dove snorts way too loudly and watches as Chris’s face gets angrier. God, she forgets how bitchy Steve can be. It’s awesome. 

“Listen here, Harrington—”

“No you listen, Redding, no one wants your drunk ass coming up on them when they’re just trying to get home. Now get in the car with your friends and get. Lost.”

Chris has no response other than a scoff and a muttering of something unintelligible. Steve and Dove stand and watch as Chris, Jason, and their two other friends tear off from The Hawk and down Main Street into the night. 

“You okay?” Steve asks, turning to look at Dove concerningly. 

She can’t help but notice the way his eyes trace over her, like he’s assessing for any damage to have been done. She tries not to read into that too much but she can’t help the way it makes her stomach flutter. Or how the whole situation has set a fire inside her. 

No, no, no, Dove we are not doing this, She thinks to herself. 

“Yeah, I’m good, uh thanks for that,” She says with a smile, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“Oh, that? It’s no problem just you know, doing my civic duty I guess,” Steve laughs awkwardly. 

Dove chuckles as well, watching as he shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans and he starts to ramble about the movie again. 

And that’s it. He doesn’t bring that situation up again that night or ever again. She’s not sure if he’s aware of how much that means to her or how much it meant to her that he stuck up for her like that. No one, not even Nicole, had done that to the guys that tried to come onto her like that before. She always fought those battles herself. And it's not like she needed Steve to fight that battle for her but having him there…she’s not sure what to do with that feeling. 

Because a knight coming to save her is not an unknown dream to her. She read stories of knights and princesses, maidens being saved by their prince’s, even stories of Greek gods going to save their mortal desires. But that’s what it all was to her before, stories and dreams. She had been saving herself for so long she had forgotten how badly she had wanted that. Yet it still doesn’t feel right, like it wasn’t for her…no matter how bad she wants it.  

But there’s one thing she knows for sure now, Steve Harrington is nothing like the boys who have tormented her all of high school. 

-

a/n: I could go on forever with her internal monologue

[mily-writes-stuff]

God you guys are not READY for the shit I just wrote (I just wrote it so it probably suck when I go back and read it later but right now I’m On a HIGH)

[mily-writes-stuff]

update, didn't suck as bad as I thought but needed A LOT of revision

[mily-writes-stuff]

God you guys are not READY for the shit I just wrote (I just wrote it so it probably suck when I go back and read it later but right now I’m On a HIGH)

[mily-writes-stuff]

Savior Complex Drabbles

Steve Harrington x Dove Jones (OC)

Canon in the Savior Complex Universe, these drabbles are little parts of Steve Harrington and Dove Jones' story that didn't quite fit into the narrative of the main storyline.

Summary: What Steve thinks about after getting to know Dove more and spending time at her house with her mom.

Warnings: talks of bad parents and mild parental abuse.

Authors note: I love this universe and how down bad Steve is for Dove even though he doesn't really know it yet. Also I love these little drabbles.

Read the on going series here on tumblr & here on ao3!!

January 22nd, 1985

When Steve Harrington would sneak into a girls house through her window, it usually was because something was going to happen. Making out, heavy petting, or if he was lucky he’d get to go all the way. 

But now, ten days after his eighteenth birthday, he finds himself sneaking into Dove’s room not to do those things (though the desire to do them with her is there but he’s trying to shove those feelings deep, deep down). His parents are still home, they’ve been home since his eighteenth birthday and this is the longest stretch they’ve been home since last spring. It’s killing him. 

After the fight with his dad last week, just days after his eighteenth birthday, Steve has been finding himself spending as much time away from his house as possible. He’s taken Dustin home everyday after school, stayed late after basketball practice to shoot around (and then taken Max home after that because Billy found himself too busy to care for her), and then wound up at Dove’s house. 

The Jones home sits not too far from Melvalds, in a little quaint neighborhood that’s a little nicer than most but nothing like the one Steve lives in. Steve will park down the street, close to the park and walk to her house. Like anyone would care if his car was parked outside her house. 

He doesn’t always sneak in her window, if it’s earlier in the night he comes in through the front door. Veronica, Dove’s mom, will smile warmly at him, rub his shoulder gently and make him a snack. Dove and him will sit in the kitchen, work on homework, or just chat with her mom.

If he’s lucky, Veronica will cook, and when she does it’s amazing. And then he gets to stick around and play cards or dice or whatever game they decide fits the evening best. It’s nice. Steve finds himself looking forward to the days he can arrive at Dove’s house before 9 PM. He also looks forward to being at her house after 9 though, when it’s just him and Dove. 

It always starts with something his dad says, a comment that is so passive aggressive that Steve wants to throw something. Then Steve quips back and then his dads voice raises and then they’re arguing. Sometimes it gets a little physical, nothing more than a shove or his dad tightly gripping his wrist. And it always ends the same, “You’re such a disappointment.” 

The words hiss out of Danny Harrington’s mouth and every time, it hurts. At some point it stopped hurting as much but your father looking you dead in the eyes telling you how much of a disappointment you are can never really stop hurting. Not for Steve at least. 

So that’s how he finds himself laying on Dove’s bed, sometimes his head will end up in her lap if the fight is really bad, like it was tonight. She will hesitantly play with his hair, a little unsure if she should be doing it, but when he melts more into the plush of her mattress she allows herself to continue.  

She never pushes him to talk. He knows it’s because she wouldn’t want to talk either, but sometimes he wishes she would just say something so he’s not left with his own thoughts. Usually his voice just fills the silence when it gets too much. 

He yammers about sports, the next basketball game they have coming up, NFL playoffs, the upcoming baseball season. Dove will throw in surprising comments about how she thinks the Knicks will be good this year (Steve argues with that usually) and then will just continue to mess with his hair. 

She’s the only girl he’s ever let touch his hair like this but he won’t admit that to anyone. 

And then things will start to shift in tone. Usually from him. 

“Do you think those things are gone forever?” He asks, eyes peering up to Dove who is looking down at him. “Things” refers to the creatures that have haunted both their dreams. The dead thing Dustin continuously talks about and wishes the Joyce and Hopper let him keep for a science experiment. 

Her lips purse, head lifting in thought. “I hope so, Hopper seemed to think so.”

Steve settles back against her mattress again, humming out a “yeah”. 

Then he’ll talk about his dad. That’s when he gets something out of Dove usually. She gets very upset on his behalf when it comes to discussing his father. Daniel Harrington might be the vain of her existence now with how she speaks of loathing him so much. 

“He’s just an asshole, Steve,” Dove says, voice laced with disdain. “I seriously don’t know how you deal with it, and I’m sorry you have to.” 

Steve feels something flutter in his chest. It’s the first time anyone has said that to him. Because yeah, he knows he is privileged, he lives in a big house with two parents and doesn’t have to worry about money. But that doesn’t change the fact that those parents don’t do anything besides provide for him. They don’t love him, cherish him, cook him meals, play cards with him, or…do anything like Veronica does for Dove. 

In the days he’s started haunting the Jones house he’s seen more love poured out from her mother than he has ever seen from his. Veronica and Dove not only love each other, but they seem to actually enjoy each other’s company. He’s never known what that’s like, his family dinners are filled with stiff, forced conversation and tight lipped smiles. This relationship between a mother and her child is almost abnormal to him, and he’s not sure how it could ever happen. It pangs a spot of jealousy in him and he never wants to not see it. 

He sees how that love has reflected into Dove. The way she cares for people and talks about them and is loyal. She is a good person and it looks like her mom has made sure of that. And…she might be the nicest thing that’s happened to Steve in recent years. He doesn’t want to lose that. He doesn't want to ruin it with these growing feelings. He’s trying to swallow them down because he knows she doesn’t want anything. She doesn’t need anything. Not after Billy and everything she’s endured the past couple of years from boys at Hawkins High. He can’t spring ‘hey, the way you care about people and care about me has started to make me realize I’ve never loved anyone or been loved by anyone like this before’ on her. That’s not fair. 

So he keeps quiet on that end, just talks about anything else that comes to mind until they fall asleep in her bed. And that’s how most nights end from January until early March of that year. Sometimes they’re tangled together for warmth, other times just passed out next to each other. 

And neither of them talks about it. Not when they wake up the next morning to go to school, not when her mom throws them knowing looks over the breakfast table, and especially not when someone makes a passing comment about them in the halls at school. 

Cause she’s just a friend! A really good friend, who listens and holds him and never expects anything from him. A friend who Steve is definitely not falling for. Not now, he can’t. Not when he just got something this good.

----------------

a/n: I love them.