how do you go home that night after all the sirens ceased their wailing and the lights turned off? steve drove anyone home who didn't have a ride after the startcourt mall disaster. he'd need to take his car to the shop tomorrow, but it was in good enough shape to make his rounds and head back to his parents' house. careful and quiet, so that he didn't wake them, he went up to his room and sat on the bed. he must've sat there the rest of the night still wearing his uniform. the sunlight through his window stirred him from his conscious revelry. images from the night before ran over his mind's eye like a projector reel. he wondered where the hell that monster came from?! never had they encountered something like that beast or even suspected it could exist. the russians. the drugs. billy… possessed billy then billy—what he did. the monster was gone now, and billy…
steve shot up from his bed and paced the room. stripping from his soiled uniform, he rushed to the shower. dried blood and fatigue flowed down the drain along with his tears. steve didn't CRY when he could help it. he couldn't help it. he couldn't help billy. he almost lost all of them if it weren't for @dealtgod.
the next few weeks were a long, unbroken thread. the only concept of time steve knew was his connection to the kids and robin. they had to look for another job, and steve became robin's shadow in that regard. steve, after taking his car in for repairs, drove between the wheeler's and byers' houses. max was in his passenger seat or backseat more often than not these days. his birthday had come and gone, and steve ended up passing his present along to her one day while she sat silently beside him. i prefer my car radio, he explained when he handed it over. wouldn't get much use out of this, anyway. you can have it. the WALKMAN was brand new, but steve had removed it from the box so that she wouldn't have to worry about breaking it out of its packaging. he'd set it up with some batteries already. pulling some cassettes from his glove compartment, he handed those over, too, alone with a ten dollar bill for her to by her own. it wasn't ENOUGH to make up for anything, but maybe she would get some use out of it.
one day, in the wheeler's basement, will kinda just… spaced out. his eyes rolled to white and steve rushed to crouch at the young boy's side. shaking him by the shoulders, steve called out to him. hey, you okay? what happened?! will explained he had a vision—he's had them before about the mind flayer—and this time, he saw BILLY. he was alive. he looked like he was in a hospital, only there were scientists there just like when will was taking sessions at hawkins lab. will's voice and those of the kids around him faded out like a lost frequency on the walkie talkies. he didn't know how long he was out, but steve broke through the chaos of the kids talking over each other to declare: we're going to get him out.
emergency lights were blinking from white to RED as steve made his way down the halls of the facility. he used the bottom end of his bat to batter open the doors, looking inside every room for any sign of billy. armed guards ambushed him from behind, tackling him to the tiled ground. steve knocked his temple to the cool surface, but he didn't stay down. ducking a booted kick, he used the momentum to propell himself back to his feet. he met the butts of large guns with the swing of his bat. during the scurmage, the weapons were lost—metal and wood sliding along the tiles and out of reach. steve took a few punches to his half-healed wounds from the mall. at first, he couldn't feel anything. the adrenaline of the fight protecting him from the distraction.
then, like a shift in a dream, steve wasn't fighting anymore. the guards were gone or knocked out on the floors of the hallway. steve was no longer on his feet. he felt hands. an arm around his back and a touch to his tender face. steve helped the person lean him back against the wall so that they didn't have to support his weight. neither did he. reality was sinking him like a stone, and gravity was once again steve's foe. all his strength was depleted to make friends with it for now.
my muse wipes away the blood from your muse’s face, their hands trembling.
❝ here you are… ❞ the words were slurred. a bare whisper ripped from his chest with the shallow breath he used to control the pain. if he wasn't breathing so deeply, surely that meant the blows didn't hurt that bad now, right? mind over matter. ❝ i knew it. i knew you weren't… ❞ talking hurt and smiling really hurt, but steve endured his nerves being set ablaze by cracking his semi-delirious grin. ❝ you're really here? ❞ his eyebrows crinkled. the pain was turning into a dull throb. his whole face felt like a pulse. calm and steady as he stared up at billy. ❝ is it you? ❞ his mumblings were becoming near inaudible, but he held faith billy could still hear him. the force to be understood punctuated the syllables.
steve's eyelids were falling closed longer the more he blinked his sudden drowsiness away. he didn't realize he was trying to pass out, his body begging for a reset from the previous struggle. it would be better that way—to black out while his system recovered. steve fought his natural defenses, urging his focus to stay on this possible phantom billy. what if will's vision gave him too much hope? was that a thing? were there limits to HOPE? steve kinda figured that defeated the purpose. were visions contageous? steve expelled a ragged breath. his head hurt too much for all that thinking. quiet, quiet now, he told himself. ❝ doesn't matter. ❞ he said aloud. ❝ not gonna giv' up on you. i'll c'me get you. hold on, okay? m'comin' t'get you. ❞ darkness swallowed his vision. billy was fading from his sight. isn't this what it was like—the place where el and will go to peak into the upside down? ❝ m'comin' righ' now! ❞ he assured as he slipped into unconsciencousness. with the last of his strength, steve grabbed at billy's shoulders. solid. he was solid to the touch. that was a good sign.
