continued from [ x ]. with @hawklines.
dottie imbued steve with a calming presence in the past. when he saw it was her at his door, he was not expecting to open the floodgates to a whirlwind of determination and no small measure of TOUGH LOVE. the evidence of her efforts in the form of posters and buttons for his imaginary campaign was a shock to his system. it woke him up more effectively than any cup of coffee or bucket of ice cold water over the head. ❝ wait, wait—whoa whoa WHOA! WHAT?! ❞ it was like he was hearing everything she said in reverse. he backed up to let her in because she was welcome, and it was the polite thing to do. eyes still transfixed on her mock ups, steve began to shake his head in a daze. what he said? WHAT had he said again?
oh, yeah. THE TRUTH. hawkins was no better off then it had been weeks after the town split. excuses of budget cuts and lack of volunteers or construction professionals didn't sound so great years after the fact. steve wanted something done, and the best way to do that was to roll up your sleeves and get to work! crap, he kinda made a whole thing of it, didn't he…? good goddamn idea. REALLY? shit, he guessed it was, maybe. but him? steve had been some illusion of a leader before in his time, but mostly, he was good with the support. he was a steady hand whenever anyone wanted to reach out to grab it. did he really have what it took to… lead the town? finally, his brain caught up with the first thing she told him: i'm not letting you drop out. it was SCARY. full of responsibility and a tiny bit of threat. steve gulped and closed the door behind her.
❝ can i get you anything? can i talk you out of all this? ❞ he wanted to explain how it all was a mistake. he'd gotten carried away. okay, so maybe it wasn't a MISTAKE. the issues were real, but he was an IDIOT if he thought he was the man for the job. he would help, he would volunteer countless hours to reconstruction and bake sales to raise the money, but to run for mayor? it was funny, right? ❝ dottie… ❞ he croaked out. he might as well have been starved for water after spending miles and miles treaking lonely desert. ❝ c'mon. you can't be serious about this. ❞ his hands were on his hips, his fingers tangled up in the band of his bathrobe. he was not the guy.