#rambler writes

[hippielittlemetalhead]

Random brain shenanigans. Take yourself back to the 2010s and the show Grimm.

Now: 'Alpha' Monroe submitting to 'Bigger Alpha' Nick in the "pack hierarchy".

Just envision with me:

Blutbads are a mix of actual wolf culture and the outdated wolf hierarchy that was proven wrong almost as soon as it was put forth.

Most Blutbad stay with their family packs. Large, extended sprawling families that take up small towns, entire neighborhoods, whole city blocks, Plantation Complexes and shit like that. But some, they have that something extra. They don't properly submit to the Pack's Alpha. Some of those become 'Alphas' of smaller portions, like managers who answer to the CEO. But a select few can't live that way. They have to leave their family to go off and make their own pack.

So, Monroe left home when he reached his people's age of majority, has his wild years we learn about in the pig-cop episode. But eventually settles down as a lone wolf with his own territory in Portland with his clocks and his cello and his growing wine collection and experimenting with different vegan dishes. And the reason there are no other Blutbad in the area is because they know there is an Alpha who holds that territory.

Now enter Nick. Monroe can't help the morbid curiosity and the novelty of helping a Grimm so he goes along with Nick's cases and shenanigans, even as he gripes and moans about it. Over the years they add Rosalee and Hank and Wu to the in-the-know group and they adopt Roddy and his dad, Barry and his, Hanson and his sister Gracie (the homeless siblings who got kidnapped for organ donating), and the one feral blutbad girl (Holly) and her mother. Monroe keeps telling Nick that a group like this shouldn't be able to exist, that it won't survive. But Nick just laughs it off and tells Monroe he's being dramatic and stuck in the past. That they're making their own rules.

And it's at a social thing Nick and Rosalee have dragged him to, while listening to Roddie explain musical theory to Gracie and Barry, Hanson showing Holly how to play some videogame Hank set up, Rosalee and the Wesen parents talking about Wesen subcultures with Wu and Holly's mom, Nick and Julie being all newlywed-ish nect to him as he sips at his glass of wine that Monroe realizes; they've made a Pack. He doesn't say anything, but his heart must be beating as loud as the rushing in his ears cause Rosalee looks over at him worriedly. He takes a few deep breaths and inserts himself in the conversation about musical theory and decides to worry about it some other day.

Some other day happens to be at a regularly scheduled 'team meeting' where the main group who Nick usually drags into his Grimm/cop shenanigans meet at the tea shop to debrief about local happenings and recent cases and just catch up without the kids or the involved parents. Wu is the one to point it out. He's been researching Wesen cultures and traditions, taking advantage of Nick granting them all access to his family's Grimm library and cross referencing it to live Wesen sources. And Monroe can feel the cop's eyes on him, watching, assessing, looking for something. It's as Rosalee brings out snacks, and Monroe pushes a plate of Nick's favorites towards him, waiting for the Grimm to take a bite before he even puts anything on his own plate that Wu finally says,

"Oh shit, please tell me that was one of those pack things, and I didn't just see you do a weird courting gesture to Nick in front of your fiancé." The room goes silent. But then Rosalee is muttering under her breath about dumbass Blutbad behavior and Hank is sputtering through a sporadic list of questions.

Eventually, to avoid Rosalee and Wu further picking his recent behavior apart even further as Hank and Nick watched bemusedly, Monroe admits that maybe, his more wild instincts had come to recognize that their 'little' found family was a functioning Pack. And maybe they had placed Nick as the leading Alpha since he was kind of the social focal point and, as a Grimm, the most dangerous creature around. It had been building since they kept adopting strays (especially kids who needed the protection of family and guidance), but what really drove it home was the Wesen games years ago. Since then his instincts have been acknowledging Nick as their pack's Alpha.

Hank doesn't quite get it cause he doesn't know much about how wolf packs work beyond outdated pack hierarchy bullshit he learned in Highschool. But Rosalee and Wu are asking questions and going on about what this means for different Wesen groups and some of the most foundational aspects of Wesen and Grimm history. Nick doesn't say a word. The meeting wraps up early, Rosalee and Wu want to do more research and they'll probably drag Frank Rabe and Mrs. Clark (I'm gonna name her Susan, iykyk) along for the research ride.

After everyone has dispersed and either gone to hunt down other members of their pack or just gone home, Nick shows up on Monroe's doorstep with a bottle of wine that Monroe recognizes and one of his favorites. They talk. About the games, about the times Nick has felt the overwhelming urge to get between Monroe and other members of their found family and protect. How he had always chalked that up to basic Grimm stuff and his cop instincts, but what if it was actually something not really seen before? A Grimm having a family to protect? Not just an heir to the ability or a spouse who they kept at arm's length because their job meant they 'couldn't have real attachments'?

But some deep-seated instinct to protect and care and keep his people close? To build a family to not just keep them safe but to protect each other. To lean on when he needs to. And Monroe is blown away. He's all about breaking the mold of what boxes Wesens try to put each other in but what Nick is talking about? World changing.

They're a Pack, led by a male Grimm who survived to adulthood against the odds. They have Blutbads, Jägerbär  Reinigen, a Fucshbau, and humans all working together and treating each other as family. Monroe doesn't want to think about what his traditionalist parents and relatives would have to say about all of this. As he sits on his old couch, sipping wine and contemplating the family he's made for himself with his best friend, he thinks he's found his people. And that's enough for him.

[hippielittlemetalhead]

Saw a couple different posts that boil down to 'Bobby meant the Grants when he said "They'll need you", not the 118/firefam as a whole' and it got me thinking

Envision with me:

Athena is finally clearing Bobby's stuff out of the closet in Harry's room. Sorting through his effects that had been removed from his locker and the office and odds and ends that's she's found and stuffed in that closet instead of dealing with the emotions of it all. But it's time.

So she waits for a day the kids are out, the 118 and co. are all occupied and not likely to call or stop by or anything. She pours a herself a large glass of wine to get herself through the day and gets started.

She's about halfway through the most of it. Piles of keep, donate, smaller piles of things to give to the kids and family and members of the firefam because she knows it's what Bobby would have wanted. She just added a couple of pictures of Bobby with a younger (smaller) Buck at what looks like a concert and she vaguely recalls something about Buck winning Springsteen concert tickets on some radio contest his probie year and dragging Bobby with him, when she finds the box. It's an odd size, between a shoebox and something one of those top-of-the-line smart phones Buck and the kids are always on about comes in. There's something in it that shifts as she picks it up and finds a bit of heft to it.

Her shoulders curl inwards and she can't choke back the sob that bubbles up when she opens the box and is met with an envelope with her name on it in Bobby's familiar hand. Her own hand is shaking as she picks it up and holds it to her chest, logically she had known it was odd that through the entire time she and the 118 had been mourning and she had planned the funeral and arrangements for Bobby's remains that no one had given her or anyone else Bobby's final letter.

Every first responder who spent time in the field had them. A letter that would be given to their chosen loved one should the worst happen while on duty. She and Bobby had only spoken of them once, he had told her that before the 118, before her, his had simply been a generic informal will not actually addressed to anyone specific. Just whoever found it. But when they started getting serious, he wrote a new one for her and simply rewrote updated versions every few months as their lives grew and evolved and they had so many good moments and held each other through so many tragedies. That was all he told her. He never told her where it was kept, what was in it or even what in their lives had him rewriting it to match the people they were now.

It's as she's finally getting control of her tears, no longer fighting the body-wracking sobs, that she notices there are other letters. Buck's is on top of course, only under her own. After his are the kids, then some members of the 118, Michael, some names she recognizes from Bobby's AA meetings. There are also some personal effects in the box. Bobby's rosary she had been looking for, cufflinks she knew he had inherited from his father, a handful of sobriety tokens, and some pictures.

She holds his rosary wrapped around one hand and the letter to her in the other as she starts to read. It had obviously been written only a week or so before the lab. It makes her cry all over again seeing Bobby express so much love for her and his life and thanking her for loving him and being his rock, keeping him afloat. There's more to it, more expressed and explained and reassurances that he never would have chosen to leave her. But she can only skim it, parsing out the most important parts. Him begging her to not lose herself in her loss of him like she had with Emmett, reminding her she has her kids and their family and so many people who need her and who are there for her in turn. A part of her is irritated but then ashamed, recognizing she did exactly that.

She finishes her glass then empties the rest of the bottle into it.

Then she sits, looking at the other letters. Bobby's final words to the people he loved and cared about. She knows it's wrong. But she has to know.

Buck's letter almost makes her cry harder than her own had.

In it he thanks the younger man for letting him be a dad again. For not listening all those years ago when Bobby told him the 118 wasn't a family. For being bright and stubborn and reminding him that was allowed to let himself live again. For convincing him to put himself out there again, ultimately giving him Athena. Thanks him for living, always living despite what the world threw at him, bombs and earthquakes and lightning and tsunamis. And he asks so sorrowfully, regretfully, for Buck to be that for Athena and May and Harry, even Michael. Tells Buck that however he died the rest of the 118 have each other, and they were all family, but Buck and Athena and the Grants were his Family. He might want to spread himself out far enough to lose himself in being useful, but Bobby needed him focused.

Needed Buck to step up for him one last time.

Her phone is dialing before she even registers she's pulled it out and opened the familiar contact.

Of course, Buck gets there fast enough to tell her he broke a number of road laws despite his promise to drive carefully and within the speed limit. He finds her still folded in on herself on the floor in Harry's room, the pages of the letter to him clenched in her still trembling hands. He brushes off her apologies when she shoves the letter into his hands, letting herself finally, truly fall apart for the first time since Bobby's death. He has one hand rubbing up and down her back as he reads. She can feel the way his breath stutters in his chest and his body tenses at the words on the pages. Eventually he puts down the tear-stained pages and falls into her the same as she fell into him and lets himself cry alongside her.

She's not sure how long they were there, crying on each other over the words of a dead man. Harry finds them a teary mess that had moved themselves to the kitchen. They had sorted out how to get the letters and items Bobby wanted to make sure were distributed made it to their intended destinations. Now they were still working through the occasional waterworks, sipping on some of Athena's good wine as Buck made dinner from the old family recipe book that Bobby had inherited parts of from both of his grandmothers before they passed. Now it belonged to Buck, every casserole and cookie recipe that Bobby never had the chance to teach him himself.

It's two weeks later, two weeks of pre-shift coffee meet-ups and joining the three kids for Bachelor Monday, and being dragged to farmer's markets and vendors fairs by Buck and May, and roped into cooking some recipe from Buck's new cookbook with him and Harry. two weeks later when Buck has the 118 and families over for a bbq and potluck like the ones Bobby and Athena used to host. But now it's Buck playing host and Eddie weaving in and out of his space, nudging him on to something else when he starts obsessing over a plate of food that's already perfect or poking at the perfectly smoking grill. She waits until everyone is full of good food and the contentment that comes with time well-spent with family.

She hands Chim his letter personally and makes sure to give him a firm hug before handing him off to Maddie. Hen and Karen accept Hen's with teary smiles and the rest of the members of the 118 who had managed to make it are equally solemn yet touched and happy that Bobby thought to leave them something. Buck is in charge of handing out the mementos Bobby assigned to people. Smiling bright through his teary eyes and sharing soft words with everyone left something as he digs their item out of the box the letters had been left in. Old sobriety tokens to firefighters he had helped avoid the same mistake he made at their ages. His rosary to Eddie who held it with an unexpected reverence and held the cross to his lips for a second before sharing a watery smile with Buck. Buck was already wearing a simple chain that she had always known Bobby to wear though even she wasn't sure what the significance was, the cufflinks safe in the house in their velvet-lined box.

There are more letters to distribute. More of Bobby's final goodwill to spread. More of his love and care that will live on for years to come. But for now, watching Buck standing tall and strong and steady in the middle of their big sprawling family, being a touchstone for them as they all rode the latest wave that tried to drown them and tear them apart, being the sort of man Bobby always strived to be, being a son he would have been proud of. For now, she'll let herself have this tie with her family, with the children she bore, and the son Bobby gave her without even realizing.

For now, this is enough.

[hippielittlemetalhead]

Part 3 (One of Us) of 'Never Took The Time (To Forget)' previously known as 'Hopper Adopts Steve But Make It Sad'

Part 1 (Hop fucks up), Part 2 (Pride and Prejudices: Joyce Edition), part 3, Part 4.1 (With a Capital 'P'), Part 4.2 (Robin's Boy), Part 5 (Man Of The Hour)

Here's a bit more for you filthy animals 😘

Much like he's come to expect from the small soldiers these children have fashioned themselves into he's not surprised when they come pouring out of whichever of the twins' rooms they shoved themselves in like codependent sardines. He's not surprised by the looks of anger and disappointment and confusion. Claudia Henderson's kid -Dustin- looks on the edge of tears with a grim set to his mouth that reminds him of when the kid's mom is beyond words in her slow-burning fury. El and Will have matching looks of disappointed confusion.

What he's not expecting is the way Mike and the younger (usually more volatile) Sinclair are holding onto an incensed looking Lucas. Lucas who has always been the polite one when it came to addressing adults and the one to preach caution and thinking plans through. Lucas who has been quiet and withdrawn since Hop came back, spending his days at the edge of Party affairs when not helping in the rebuilding efforts around town or sitting at Max's bedside.

"What the fuck, Hopper?" The kid spits out and that seems to snap the rest of The Party into action. Will goes to join the two holding Sinclair back but Dustin starts near incoherently yelling in that screechy pitch only that kid seemed to be able to hit about bullshit cops and useless adults and to let Lucas go. "He idolized you, man! Would tell us all the time that you were 'one of the good ones' that if we ever needed anyone and he wasn't there, to find you. That you would take care of us because that's just what you did for people. Because you were good!"

"Lucas, chill out man." Mike pants though he's also glaring daggers at Hop.

This is where Joyce (god bless her) decides to step in. "Lucas, honey-" She says with her soft voice and big wet eyes and that warmth she seems to infuse into everything she touched. "It's complicated. There's some things you just don't understand and-"

"No! You two don't understand! Steve is GOOD. He's good and he cares and he takes care of everyone else and he always kept us safe." The kid seems to be losing some of his steam, pulling at his friends less and resigned to shaking in barely contained fury. "He gets hurt and he gets back up and he apologizes for taking a fall in the first place! He's just Good."

"I know he's been good to you kids and I appreciate that, I really do Lucas." Joyce says, her voice a little stronger, that steadiness returning. "Sometimes people in our lives can do bad things to others and we don't see it because we care about them and that's not always a bad thing. But we have to remember that the people who were wronged are allowed to be upset and that's normal to feel and-"

"You mean like Jonathan?" The room goes quiet. Will looks resigned but not surprised by Lucas' question but the rest of the kids look just as confused as him and Joyce. "Did you really think Steve broke his camera -in the school parking lot of all places- for the hell of it? Did you seriously never question it?"

Hop feels something twist in his gut. He had been so caught up in the search for Will and wrangling a frantic Joyce that he hadn't paid any attention to small-town squabbles like two teenagers having it out in the school parking lot, the destruction of personal property or what might have triggered it. He looks over the kids' heads to see Jonathan and his stoner buddy standing just outside his door. The friend looks confused but Jon is looking at his mom who hasn't noticed him yet like a man preparing himself for the gallows.

"Mom." Joyce's eyes snap from where they were locked on Lucas up to her oldest son. "Mom, I-"

"What are they talking about Jon?" It's quiet. Quiet and scared because everyone in the room knows that whatever secret reason Lucas (and maybe Will?) seems to be the only one to know Steve had for picking a fight isn't going to be good. Jonathan's mouth opens like he's going to say something but no words come out. "Honey, what did you do?"

"He took pictures of Steve and his friends the night Barbara Holland disappeared."

"Will?" all eyes except Lucas' (who is still glaring daggers at Hop) are on the two brothers. One scared and almost pleading the other disappointed and resolved.

"He hid in the bushes and took pictures of Steve and his friends with Nancy and Barbara. There were pictures of Barbara at the Harrington place before she died and he never told anyone. But there were also-" He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes like he can't look at his older brother who has hung his shaggy head under everyone's heavy gaze. "There were pictures of just Steve and Nancy. Alone together. In Steve's room."

There's a sharp gasp that he thinks came from Joyce but he's too busy watching the young man he's come to consider a son. His head is still lowered and his shoulders are curving in on themselves as he shakes off the hand his long-haired friend tries to place on his shoulder.

"Oh baby," Joyce's voice is wet again. A tone of horrified disappointment to it that Hop has only heard her use when talking to or about one other person. "Tell me you didn't."

"Then he-" Will clears his throat like this one is what gives him pause. "He was caught developing the pictures in the school's darkroom. All of the pictures. And he had zoomed in on Steve's window. Nancy was the center of the shot." The kid's eyes flit over to Mike (who is now turning an interesting shade of red as he glares at Jonathan) before he blushes and looks at the ground, "She uh-"

Lucas does not seem to share Will's newfound hesitance in the face of an enraged Mike Wheeler. "Most of the upperclassmen argue if she had a bra or not but they all seem to agree she didn't have a top."

"Oh my god." Everyone was frozen as Joyce began to crumble. "Oh my god." He reached out to catch her, her nails digging into his arm through his shirt sleeve as she stared unseeing at her oldest son.

Jonathan started forward. "Mom, I-" a hand in the middle of his chest stopped him. "Will, please, I need to-"

"Just stop, man." Lucas sighs. "You started this shit, you gotta deal with it before you hurt someone else besides Steve."

"I didn't mean to hurt Steve."

Hops feels himself frozen to the spot in a way he's not used to anymore these days. His mind is working overtime picking out all of the charges that could have been pressed even against a boy of 15/16 if any of the kids in Harrington's inner circle had told an actual adult about the situation. The veritable legal hell that would have been brought down on Joyce while searching for a son legally assumed dead.

"Is that what you told yourself when you helped Nancy cheat?" And it just kept getting worse.

Joyce gives off a whimper and the kids gathered make varied sounds of shock and disgust.

"They were broken up."

"Were they? Cause everybody at school and half the town seems to all know about you and Nancy disappearing together when Steve was still calling her his girlfriend and then you all showed back up to school, Steve beat to hell again and Nancy hanging all over you. The basketball team STILL talk about it."

He's heard enough. "Alright, that's it!" He yells out over the children yelling and Joyce demanding answers and Jonathan's friend trying to say something about there being some sort of explanation. "This doesn't help us help Steve."

Lucas shakes off the loose hold Erica and Mike still had on him and crosses his arms as he rolls back his shoulders and tilts his jaw up to fix him with a glare. The kid's stance is almost arrogant but Hop can't help but notice the way he rests his weight on his off side, his shoulders back and his posture straight without his chest puffing out ridiculously like Hop is used to from teenage boys gearing for a fight.

"I think you've helped enough, Hopper." It's quiet and biting and he lets himself have a moment of grief for the childhood these kids lost, and the fact that he's almost positive Lucas didn't pick up this easy confidence from anyone else in their monster fighting club but Steve. "You and Mrs. Byers want to play nice now cause you feel guilty and that's all well and good but what happens when Steve does something else you don't agree with without explanation? Or he and Jonathan or Nancy get in another fight? When we finally get rid of Vecna and the Upside Down for good? What happens when you don't feel guilty anymore?"

"I can't make any sort of promise you lot will believe. And lord knows I'm pretty shit at keeping them anyways. I just want to be able to try."

"He mourned you, you know. When we were told you didn't make it." That weight is back in his chest. "He held himself together around us but there were- there were moments we could tell. He and El really bonded over that. Over you. Over losing you."

"I didn't know."

"Of course you didn't. You didn't want to know."

"There's no way I can make you believe me. That I want to fix this."

"We want to, Hopper." Dustin butts in, placing a hand on Lucas' shoulder and limping up next to the other boy. "But from what you and Mrs. Byers were talking about... There's just a lot that makes a lot more sense and it doesn't inspire a lot of faith in either of you."

"We need to discuss this as a Party."

"Okay."

"That means letting us take care of it. Steve's one of us and you hurt him."

"I understand."

"So you and Mrs. Byers have got to wait till we say you can talk to Steve. That he's ready for it."

"Now, kids-"

"No they're right, Joyce. We fucked it up on our own and- and he trusts these little shits more than he trusts us right now. We've gotta do the same."

Joyce sighs, "Fine."

She's not happy about it and honestly neither is he. But if the last few years and his stint in a Russian gulag and the subsequent escape taught him anything it's maybe he needs to trust his people to do what they need to do.

The kids scurry back to whichever of the Twins' room they came from, led by a newly determined and involved Lucas and a furiously muttering Dustin. Jonathan and Joyce make their way to the kitchen and Hopper decides he's going to let them have that conversation in as much privacy as they can with a house as full as theirs.

Hopper sits in the living room, runs his hands through his hair that's finally growing out and pulls them down his face before resting his chin on steepled fingers. He hates sitting and waiting and relying on someone else for the next steps. But all he can think about is the sound Steve made. The look in his eyes. The pride in his voice the last time he heard him say, "My Hop."

That's it!

He stands up so fast his bad ankle protests and his knees pop. He limps to the front door, yelling out to the house that he has to go, has something to do. Calls out he has his walkie and that El needs to be ready on time. Then he's out the door.

Part 4.1

More coming soon! Hopefully! Work went from an active team of about 12 to 5, not including the managers we lost ssssooo... Yeah fun times. 🙃

So here's a tag-list, hope I didn't miss anyone. Feel free to yell at/with me in the comments or ask box. If you see your old tag in my list tell me your new one so I can fix it.

@thelittleclare @jackiemonroe5512 @0body0disphoria0 @strangersteddierthings @lingeringmirth @dead-cherry-bitch @irethsune @ink777 @the-daydreamer-in-the-corner @ledleaf @pansexuality-activated @paintsplatteredandimperfect @kinryuuki @katdeerly @yikes-a-bee @altocumulustranslucidus @ohimamarigold @child-of-cthulhu @samsoble @sensationalsunburst @xxbottlecapx @y4r3luv @rocochen20 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @flustratedcas @rootbeerandmusic @vinteraltus

[hippielittlemetalhead]

So... I lied about getting a full fix-it to This → Part 1. Y'all get parts focusing on different characters for now as Hop traverses his guilt trip. I won't say it gets worse before it gets better but... kinda in places? I promise it's a happy ending though!!

What do you want from me I'm stressed and depressed and I like making my blorbos suffer (a.k.a projecting my trauma instead of doing the healthy shit my shrink tells me to)

You've been warned... But I do hope you like it.

So here we have Part 2 (Pride and Prejudices: Joyce Edition)

He goes to Joyce about it first. Thinks about her gentle herding of the trio that has become the Hopper-Byers brood. Thinks about how she put everything he was feeling about Mike and El and their giggling and the fucking door into words that kept him from looking like an imbecile (if he'd have ever used them instead of fucking it up 'winging it'). Thinks about the way her voice stays soft and kind of quiet even when she's spitting in his face about listening to her (and every time she's been right) and how that's translated to talking down government goons and wrangling the army of children that seems to get bigger each time they have to fight interdimensional terrors. So he goes to Joyce about what Murray said, the noise Steve made with That Look in his eyes and his bandages peeking out from under a shirt that looks like one of the Henleys he's been missing since coming 'back from the dead' and they dug out his clothes from storage. (El wouldn't let her throw anything out, not until she was ready to say goodbye. Thank whatever god[s] there may be she never needed to)

He doesn't expect Joyce to make a face like he suggested inviting Owens to family dinner. He doesn't expect the scoff and eye roll as her shoulders tense and her hands flex at her sides like she's about to let loose her (honestly really attractive) righteous fury. About the Harrington kid.

Maybe he should have asked when the kids weren't home. Before El quietly told them the bullying wasn't as bad as it was in California but some people still made fun of how she spoke and how all of her friends were boys (and just as quietly asked they not do anything. Asked that they let her and The Party handle it until they couldn't). Before Will came home sulking about something idiotic Mike said or did or something the kid missed (though lately the latest Wheeler mistake is followed by bashful mention of the Emerson kid doing something specifically to make Will feel better in the moment). Before Jonathan came home from 'job hunting' or 'volunteering at the school's relief center' reeking of weed and his long-haired friend in tow (less than usual but still enough to make Joyce feel guilty for missing it for so long, for making the boy grow up so fast that he spends his days out of his mind instead of the weekend bender like when they were kids). Before The Party had come by with what homework the school was still giving out and talking over each other about all the latest small-town gossip a teenager can get their hands on (Eddie's name has been cleared but he's still laid up at the hospital. Susan Mayfield has been noticeably absent according to every nosy housewife in Hawkins considering her daughter is in a coma. The Hagans, Carvers, Perkins and a handful of other 'well to do' families have skipped town taking most of the sports population with them. Steve has been letting people displaced by the damage crash at the Harrington mansion. Steve has kept up hours at Family Video somehow and is a regular volunteer at the various relief centers in town. Steve has been giving all of them rides and may have told Dustin he's thinking of trading in the Beemer for a bigger vehicle for all the kids and people he chauffeurs about. Steve keeps a room empty and waiting for when Max wakes up before her mother makes an appearance. Steve. Steve. Steve.)

He doesn't expect the way she spits his name like she's talking about Dick and Margaret under the bleachers over a smoke before the yard teacher catches them. The rant about bullies and broken cameras and trashed kitchens and dead monsters in her fridge. The crack in her voice when she crosses her arms to stop their shaking as she lays sin upon sin at this boy's feet.

And maybe before that would have been enough.

He doesn't expect the stone in his stomach or the burning in his chest as he looks the woman he loves in the eye and says "So I guess we should tell Nancy to break up with Jonathan before he pulls a Lonnie, huh?" It's a low blow. He knows from the hurt anger on her face and on the purse of her lips. He knows that's why he said it. "That kid is lucky to be alive let alone walking and have we ever even thanked him for keeping the fucking kids alive each time they pull their dumb shit when the world goes to hell? Does that sound like anything his folks would have ever done for us? Hell for their own fucking kid they practically signed over to ME of all people?"

He's shaking now too and Joyce has her hands fluttering between them like she wants to reach out. To touch, comfort. Pull him close and tell him to take a breath.

"He called me 'His Hop', Joyce" He barely has enough breath on him to squeeze the words past his tight throat. "Called me His Hop and watched Ellie and the kids when I just couldn't and you were at work. I don't think I've seen his folks in town since the mall was opened and all the donors had that big party. Don't think I've spoken to them since '83 and they made me the kid's guardian when they aren't around cause they didn't want to fly down for a government sized concussion."

By now he knows El and Will are peeking around the corner, their eyes wide and worried. Jonathan has his door cracked and Angus (is that the hippie's name? He can't remember) is whispering something about heavy auras. Joyce is staring somewhere off in the distance, wringing her hands and biting her lips like she's facing an interdimensional portal shaped problem.

"The kids are planning to have one of their games in a few days." Her voice is brittle in a way he's not used to anymore. Not since she pulled her youngest out of hell and faced down a demon clawing through her walls. "He always drives them over and- and disappears until they need to head home. I can make sure he stays for dinner. Like the rest of the kids. I know Claudia has been having him over so I- I can get some recipes from her that he likes."

Something in his shoulders shakes loose and he reaches out to pull her practically shaking from into his chest.

"I don't know what to say to him Hop. He's not Mike and he's not like either of my boys. In my head he's just always been..."

"Dick and Margaret's brat." He sighs out and rests his cheek on the top of her head as she nods and presses herself in closer.

He's aware of eyes on them. Confused and worried and judgemental and he'll pay that piper next. These kids taught him how to be a dad again once, they can do it again, right?

Part 3

Part 4.1

@thelittleclare @jackiemonroe5512 @0body0disphoria0 @strangersteddierthings @lingeringmirth

Part 4.2

Part 5

If I missed you in the tag list I'm sorry I tried 🙃🫡 Tell me what you think? 🫣🥲

[hippielittlemetalhead]

Never Took The Time (To Forget) part 4.2: Robin's Boy

A.N: Life is kinda sucky right now with job hunting, surviving at my current job, the strains that come with being a caregiver to a family member while maintaining a long distance relationship and just dealing with mental and emotional self-care. So here's this, super late and not beta-read but at least I wrote it.

As always, feel free to yell at/with me in the comments, tags and/or ask box.

Part 1 (Hop fucks up), Part 2 (Pride and Prejudices: Joyce's Edition), Part 3 (One of Us), Part 4.1 (With a Capital 'P'), Part 5 (Man Of The Hour)

There's not much that surprises Robin Buckley these days. She gets queasy at the sight of ground beef, the big friendly dogs a few doors down at the O'Reilly place make her blood run cold, she can't watch the old Russian movies her dad loves without having nightmares after and she's sleeping with a nightlight for the first time since she was six. But it takes a lot to surprise her.

Seeing the declared dead Chief of Police step out of a sleek black, obviously-secret-government-bullshit car flanked by an agent she recognizes as one of Owens' lackeys from last July when they were making the rounds with Government funded medical care contingent on signing sketchy NDAs? Just par for the course at this point.

Steve's face when Eleven-Jane rushes into the not-dead Chief's arms and it turns into a whole 'Moment'? Said Chief's look of barely interested confusion followed by tired annoyance when Steve drags her in front of him, rambling about Starcourt and new additions to The Party and finally getting to meet 'My Hop'? Yeah, none of that surprises her either. She plays along for Steve, doesn't give Hopper any time to say anything that would take that happy smile off his face or get rid of the way he's practically glowing he's smiling bigger than she's ever seen directed at anyone other than the kids. Tries not to think about the way it makes something in her clench and crouch like a cat getting ready to pounce and bare fangs she didn't realize she had outside of a life and death situation. She introduces herself, maintains eye contact and drags Steve off as fast as she can to do something, anything, that will distract him from trying to catch up like the Byers clan is with the kids and assembled assorted monster fighters.

She's not surprised when she can't stop Steve from stepping up every time Hopper or Joyce or anyone with a badge says they need anything despite his own still healing wounds. She's not surprised when Hop takes it a step too far.

They're at the Hopper Cabin that is steadily becoming the Hopper-Byers Cottage when Hop tells his and Joyce's shared custody bald parasite that Steve is little more than an annoyance he puts up with for the free babysitting service and manual labor and cause he can go up against shit that would give anyone else nightmares while keeping the kids safe and mostly in-check. She's sitting with Eleven-Jane, sewing patches onto one of Hop's old army jackets, (the kid had seen Eddie's battle vest in Steve's car and it had reminded her of her sister Kali and she'd decided she wanted one of her own for the war ahead and then all of the other rugrats had decided they did too so she and Argyle had taken to giving sporadic sewing lessons whenever the kids had the materials to start their own battle attire) when Steve comes round the corner to the back of the property striding with purpose she rarely saw when he was around his kids.

She leaves her unfinished project on the stump she'd been using as a stool and chases after him. She shooes off curious and worried kids, promising to stick with him, keep the walkie close and on, make sure he was safe and didn't run afoul of any demo-beasts or trigger-happy government goons as he made his way to his car and then wherever else he was marching his happy ass.

She hates the fact that when they're both finally back at the little apartment that Owens' yes-men had acquired for Steve when Harrington Sr. decided to be an opportunist prick and kick Steve out for 'not taking care of the house' in the middle of the 'earthquake', that Steve hasn't shed a single tear. She hates that she's not surprised.

He doesn't say anything as he kicks off his Nikes and shuffles over to the 'second-hand' couch they'd gotten from Mrs. Henderson (Steve and Robin were both fully aware she'd just gotten it shortly before Spring break and was in no way in need of a new one so soon, but they both also knew better than to call her out on her kindness). He doesn't look up at her from his spot curled in amongst the throw pillows and blankets they'd been gifted by parents of various members of the party after Hopper and Owens' story that the two of them had saved the kids again from some freak incident like last year with Starcourt. She pulls out the thick quilt they had found in the latest donations bins when Hawkin's government supervised relief force started outsourcing for supplies and basic comforts. He stares at the wall where they'd hung an oversized corkboard dedicated to polaroids and photo booth strips and even some properly printed pictures of the little monster fighting family they'd put together.

She can't pull him out of this, no matter how much she may want to. There's some places his mind goes only Eleven-Jane would be able to reach and neither of them were going to put more on that girl's plate. So she puts on a Bruce Springsteen record she used to hate and curls up as close as she can to him through the quilt and pillows. Every now and then she gets up to get them both water, to grab some crackers to try and coax him into eating and to switch over to a new record or just flip the one on the player but she always comes back to her spot next to her Steve.

"Whatever he said to you, you know it's not true. Right? You're worth more than a dozen undead cops on a power trip." That gets an amused huff.

"Seriously Stevie, the kids adore you, I swear all the moms in Hawkins think you're the best thing since sliced bread and I don't know what I'd do without my personal chump. We're soulmates, remember? One of these days we're gonna mind meld like Spock and McCoy and we'll be unstoppable. I can't make it without my McCoy, Bones."

"I can't make it without you either, you hobgoblin. Thanks Bobby."

The next day is better. Steve is still a little quiet, a little droopy. But he's present and there's a simmering anger underneath his smile that Robin is proud to see him acknowledging but makes her worry about him as he ushers her into his car to drop her off on her rare lone shift at Family Video before he heads out to a quick 'consultation patrol' with some military special operatives to check out something weird by one of the new cracks.

No one had told any of the kids yet, about the cracks starting to spread out in smaller fissures like a slowly spreading infection. Hadn't thought it necessary with Steve and Nancy (both now legal adults and wasn't the government taking full advantage of that) there as a first line of communication while Joyce wrangled a restless Hop as he settles back in and heals and spars with Owens over payouts and government aide for the town and what the growing military presence was and wasn't allowed to do. With the parents occupied the kids had come together tighter than ever, focusing on their injured and recovering from the nightmare fuel that was their spring break. No one noticed.

She can't help the rant she falls into as they drive through checkpoints and past regular civilians being escorted through areas a little too close to a Gate for comfort. She goes on about how half of the soldiers act like Steve is just one of them and the other half treat him with the same cautious curiosity they do Eleven-Jane whenever she makes her way to the 'front lines' these days. She wants to get the weird boy-speak head nods too! Even Nancy gets them, especially when she's walking around with her sawed-off strapped to a jerry-rigged hip-holster. Robin has used Darlin' before, she's speed poured Molotov Cocktails to hand to soldier boys trying not to piss their pants as Steve and Nancy barked orders as they tried to down a demogorgon fresh from the Upside-Down. Where's her battlefield camaraderie?

It makes him laugh and shake his head fondly as he calls her crazy and weird with that soft smile on his face that makes her chest feel warm and fuzzy like her parents' hugs used to when she was 10 and crawled into their bed after having a nightmare. She doesn't tell him to be careful as they turn down onto Main street or to make sure he comes back in one piece as he rolls to a stop in front of the dark storefront. She starts on another tangent about him abandoning her to the drudgery of Capitalism as he gets to frolic in the woods with a bunch of burly men with their toys before he laughingly reaches over her to open her door to start pushing her out of the car. He smiles big and dopey as she practically spills onto the asphalt, still rambling away about neglectful soulmates and abuses of driving power with smatterings of claims that she'll take over his apartment if he dies and use his ashes as fertilizer for the plants he's taken to keeping on the fire-escape outside the living room window if he dares to leave her alone to babysit his hellions.

He shoots back a final, "Love you too Bobby!" before taking off towards where he's meeting the scientists and soldiers he's supposed to lead through Upside Down infected woods. As he leaves her standing on the sidewalk he doesn't make any sort of promise to be safe, to let the government goons just do their job, to make it back to her alive or in one piece. Not even to make it back to her. She plays with the locket she's taken to wearing that holds a curled up braid of hair shades darker than hers or anyone's in her family.

She doesn't watch his car to the end of the street like she might have before Spring Break, after their Starcourt 'adventure', instead she takes a deep breath and unlocks the dumb video store in this dumb town full of dumb people who don't know when to call it quits and just get the hell out of Dodge. She boots up the computer leaving it to warm up while she starts sorting through whatever mess the new shmucks Steve insisted they hire to cover what times the two of them couldn't because of the Arcade (which they had also gone and hired more staff for now that people weren't one tremor away from rioting in the streets) and Upside Down/ government related shenanigans they ended up getting dragged into.

The bell above the door jingles and she has to bite back a groan. "Welcome to Family Video, I literally just got here so you're gonna have to give me a minute before I can help you."

"Afraid we've only got movies round here, officer. You want any other medium of entertainment I'd suggest the arcade or the distribution yard." She won't turn to face him, not sure she can keep her cool if she does right now. Her hands move on muscle memory, shuffling papers into their proper piles and flipping open VHS cases to check if they need to be rewound. "Sorry, guess we'll have to catch up another time."

"I'm uh, I'm not here for a movie." She may have only heard his voice a couple of times and in passing but she didn't call her ears little geniuses for nothing. She forces her body to relax, lowering her shoulders the way Steve taught her to and keeping her voice light like Eddie walked her through, calling on his Theatre Kid skill set to teach the Party how to convincingly lie improvise when being questioned by people who really did not need to know just what was going on in good old Hawkins.

She can hear him sigh and can't help but picture his hand running over the fuzz on his head the way Steve runs his hands through his coif more and more nowadays in a way he never did before Nancy, before he got pulled into this bullshit and Hopper was rumored to be the one signing his paperwork and taking responsibility for him when his parents didn't show up after an almost week long stay at the hospital. "Look, I know you don't like me. And it has been brought to my attention just how much I fucking earned that. But I- I need your help here. To fix it."

There's not much that surprises Robin Buckley these days. She gets queasy at the sight of ground beef and meatloaf covered in ketchup, the big friendly dogs a few doors down at the O'Reilly place she used to pet and give snacks to on her way to and from school make her blood run cold, she can't watch the old Russian movies she and her dad used to stay up late watching together without having nightmares after and she's sleeping with a nightlight by her bed for the first time since she was six. But it takes a lot to surprise her. Jim Hopper might have just done it.

She doesn't stop moving, doesn't want to give him the satisfaction of throwing her off. She fiddles with the sharp little knife she has tucked up her shirt sleeve in the little sheath she and Steve put together between shuffling papers, taps at the button on her vest hiding the mic attached to the walkie talkie that never leaves her pocket these days. When she finally turns to look at him she's not surprised by the thinness of his frame or the way his eyes and cheeks still look a little sunken in. She sees the tired father worried for his kids and his people and his town, angry at the government for their involvment and their stupidity that she had come to expect. She is not expecting the remorse, the fear, she sees looking back at her. She wonders for a moment what he sees when he looks at her, at any of the teens and kids and young adults he's fought alongside trying to stop the end of the world.

"Fine. He'll be back from his patrol-" He looks mildly confused for a moment, meaning Joyce hadn't been passing along even the minimal information Nancy and Steve had been giving her to relay to Hop and the rest of the Party. That would have to be it's own discussion at some point probably. "-in about twenty minutes. You have fifteen. Now why should I help you?"

"You care about Harringt- Steve. You're close, the two of you have been basically Siamese Twins since Starcourt from what I hear. I- I realize that I made a mistake dumb enough shitting Mike Wheeler is making more sense than me, that I fucked up in a way I don't fucking know how to fix. And I am asking. Politely. For your help."

Honestly she's not sure she believes him. Honestly he's surprised her more times in the last five minutes than most anything or anyone else has in the last year. The man has a lot to unpack and the situation with Steve is just a drop in the man's pile of shit he's managed to bury himself under but maybe there's some hope yet.

She checks the watch on her wrist (an obscenely expensive piece Steve got from one of his parents' rich friends at a holiday party he was too young to remember on a leather band that he had outgrown and never got around to replacing) and looks back at Hop. Ten more minutes. "Why are you here?"

Hop groans in that growly sort of way that makes her think of her grandpa Dale, a great bear of a man who had given the best hugs with shoulders to put Jim Hopper to shame. The no-longer-chief runs his hand over his fuzz again, one hand propped on his hip as he shifts his weight to one side and she tamps down the flicker of biting anger at another example of the ways Steve had shaped himself after a man who never gave him the respect or care he deserved.

"I don't know how to fix what I fucked up. Steve's a good kid, I can admit that now. And he didn't deserve my bullshit just cause I couldn't get past old highschool biases. I wasn't there for him like I should have been- like I told him I would be when I signed those papers. But he's not the kid I thought he was, he's nothing like his folks or the other trust fund brats who think they run this shithole town. I don't know what I'm doing. I just know that kid deserves better than I've been doing."

She hums like she's mulling over his little speech to hide the way she's freaking out a little over what to say to all that. Even she doesn't know how she and Steve got to where they are beyond being tortured by Russians for information they didn't have then being drugged out of their minds while fighting inter-dimensional flesh monsters. But she doesn't think that would help Hop much in this situation.

But she thinks she believes him. At least for now.

"Alright, I'll help you with Steve." Hop sighs, his shoulders dropping as he seems to unclench slightly. Seriously, that much tension cannot be good for him after being in a Russian gulag for almost a year. "But not because I think you deserve it. You were right, Steve deserves better, but he wants you and Joyce and the kids to be in his life. Be a part of it. That is the only reason I will help you. He deserves a better dad than the one he's had and for some reason he thinks you're like super-dad."

"I- How the fuck did I not- What the hell?"

Robin shrugs, "The human brain is good at weeding out what it doesn't want to see. You didn't want to see Steve until you had to and that realization brought you to me. So. Ignorance is bliss and all that."

"So what do I do?"

She checks her watch again. "He'll be running late, especially if the fissure he's checking out is as bad as we think it is. So you have time to run back home, get Joyce to make extra of whatever monstrosity of a casserole she's trying to make this week and you get your rugrats to figure out a way to be the last drop off after Steve takes the brats to the arcade later instead of sleeping off whatever knocks he gets on patrol today. Then instead of letting him head home you make him come inside for dinner. Use the excuse of finding out he's been doing patrols if you have to. But you make him go inside and sit his ass down and eat something and you let him just- let him just be, Hop." She's running out of time but there is just so much she wants to get through to him. "Just make him feel like you see him."

"I- I'll try."

"Yeah, sure. Just-" She bites back the vitriol she wants to projectile vomit in his direction. "Just don't hurt him again. He's more than just a babysitter or front lines muscle. And I will make you wish you were back with the Russians if you make him forget that."

"I believe you."

"Good." The bell over the door jingles again and she looks past Hop to see a group of teenagers making their way to the comedies. "Now I have to get to work and you need to not be here by the time Steve comes to check on me. So talk to you later, Chief."

"Right. Thanks for your help, kid."

She shrugs him off as he turns to head out. The teens are watching him not-so-discreetly as they try to act like they're looking through the latest releases. She forgets that the man is as much a mystery as the heavy-duty military forces that have taken over their small town.

"Alright, folks. What are we looking for today?" She still technically has a job to do even if the kids keep their distance from her like they do the rest of the Party who at this point have all been seen either spending time with said heavy-duty military forces or chasing something into the dark of the forest wielding weapons smeared in monster blood, or both. It's going to be a long day.

Tag list (I think this is everyone?)(if your tag didn't work let me know cause they don't always work for me Idk why):

@thelittleclare @jackiemonroe5512 @0body0disphoria0 @strangersteddierthings @lingeringmirth @dead-cherry-bitch @irethsune @ink777 @the-daydreamer-in-the-corner @ledleaf @pansexuality-activated @paintsplatteredandimperfect @kinryuuki @yikes-a-bee @altocumulustranslucidus @ohimamarigold @samsoble @sensationalsunburst @xxbottlecapx @y4r3luv @swimmingbirdrunningrock @flustratedcas @rootbeerandmusic @vinteraltus @wonderland-girl143-blog @failedstarsandgoldenclouds @steddie-as-they-go @steveshairspray86 @youdrewstarsxaroundmyscars @i-amthepizzaman @wormapothacary @croatoan-like-its-hot @maya-custodios-dionach @ineffable-monster-romancer @asquareinverona @ellietheasexylibrarian @pukner @bookworm0690 @nightmareglitter @joekeerysmoles @salchica @lawrencebshoggoth @iheartjennaaa @child-of-cthulhu @anaibis @rocochen20 @katdeerly @samcoxramblings

[hippielittlemetalhead]

Never Took The Time (To Forget) part 5: Man Of The Hour

Life is mildly less sucky with depression being more managed (also the mood boost from Renaissance Faires 😁) and my weekends being free again for me to travel to see my person. Still full of dumpster fires but I want to scream about it less. Also, been in feels very similar to the ones that inspired this whole endeavor so... enjoy?

Anywho, here's part 5! Enjoy, my little nerdlings. As always, feel free to yell at/with me in the comments, tags, reblogs and/or ask box. If you see any mistakes feel free to message me about them. 😬👌

Part 1: Hop Fucks Up, Part 2: Pride and Prejudices (Joyce Edition), Part 3: One of Us, Part 4.1: With A Capital P, Part 4.2: Robin's Boy

Steve Harrington was an odd duck. That's what his grandmother always used to say. She would pat his already proudly coiffed hair as he hung off the arm of her rocking chair and tell him as much whenever his parents took him to visit. He would beam at her with his big (reportedly pinchable by every aunt and grandmother in the family) cheeks and quack at her before cracking up at himself like he told the funniest joke and she would let him laugh until he rolled himself off her armchair to the plush carpeted floor. She would laugh and reach way over the arm of her chair to poke his stomach or cheek or nose, sometimes just his little forehead, before leveraging herself up out of her chair and taking herself to the kitchen to boot his mother out of it. Steve Harrington was a certified 'odd duck'.

Steve isn't sure, as he sits in that old rocking chair he had stolen liberated from his parent's house when he moved into his new apartment, when he became whatever he is now. He slowly rocks himself back and forth, the chair creaking a little as his weight shifts. The kids and other teens are chattering on the walkie but it's nothing too pressing, just nonsense and junk food emergencies, Mike cursing out Hop. His ribs hurt and his nose is sore but it doesn't feel like anything is broken. It sucks he knows what broken feels like. It sucks that Robin is kind of mad at him for getting hurt enough Owens pulled rank and had him dropped off at home and assigned someone to be the Party's chauffer for the rest of the day. It sucks that all the kids have their own plans tonight, leaving him to try and find ways to keep himself distracted without their usual insanity. A lot of things just kind of suck these days.

He feels himself smiling and picks up the walkie to confirm that he was alive and resting like ordered when he hears Dustin bickering with Robin about invading his apartment to check on him. That doesn't suck he supposes. He knows Robin and the kids care and he knows that eventually the soldier tasked with driving his hellions around is going to be bullied into driving them to see him, other plans be damned and the thought makes him smile.

The smile drops when he hears what sounds like a soft knock at his door. It's too sharp to be Widow Bea two doors over who leans on her walker and kicks the bottom of his door with her soft leather slippers that belonged to her late husband when she needs him to fix a cabinet or mix batter for whatever pastry she was making that week. And it's not the distinct pattern of Clara Damon from down the hall who will come and tap at his door to ask if he has an extra cup of sugar or spoonful of flour as she bats her eyes at him simpering about how she's making cookies or a pie or a casserole of some kind and inviting him to dinner with her and her folks to have some. He's always got an empty pantry and a surplus of plans when Clara Damon comes knocking. He and Widow Bea have standing poker nights with the other older ladies who all meet at the recreation building.

(It used to be the Harrington house. But his parents decided to sell to prove a point when they up and kicked him out and Owens needed a place to set up a promised recreation space and the gym was already a relief supplies warehouse.)

But the knock at his door isn't either of those. It could be someone else in the building. Could be one of his neighbors who have started to associate Steve Harrington with fighting mutated wild dogs caused by government experiments gone wrong and hauling around kids who seemed to cheat death and holding I.O.Us signed by the U.S army instead of the absent Harrington socialites who are known for swanning into town, flaunting their wealth and making themselves scarce again. The ones who he can sometimes hear whispering about him as he makes his way down the street or through Melvald's.

The knocking comes again, louder this time and firmer. It could be a lot of things and he doesn't want to deal with any of them.

Steve sighs, it could be important. He gets up to answer the door, breathing slow and shallow and letting himself lean on walls as he makes his way to the door. A third round of knocking and he's starting to get tired of it. He takes a slightly painful breathe to call out to whoever is trying to knock down his door to calm themselves down when, "Hey kid, Harrington, you in there?" That stops him a foot from his door.

His ribs hurt and his nose is sore and his leg is throbbing where a demodog got a lucky swipe on the meat of his thigh. But nothing is broken. His leg will be fine in a day or two. He hates that he knows what broken feels like. He hates that he knows what infected feels like. He hates that he knows the stone in his stomach and the clenching vice around his lungs has nothing to do with his injuries. His ribs scream at him when he pulls himself as tall and straight backed as he can, shifting himself so his weight is on his good leg and he can (hopefully) use the hallway wall and doorframe to support himself long enough to talk to Hopper and send him on his way.

He opens the door with a smile and feels himself falter a little when he sees Hopper standing there in a big tan canvas jacket and baseball cap and he's reminded of the times the older man would show up on his parent's doorstep with the same look on his face asking questions Steve didn't always know how to answer.

"Hey, Hopper." His voice is light and smile wide and loose and he just needs to keep this up. "What brings you to my neck of the woods?"

"Heard you got a bit banged up on a patrol?"

Steve shrugs. It takes more than he'd like to hide the pain that causes. "Just a couple bumps and bruises, nothing I can't walk off after a decent night's sleep. Owens is just paranoid these days, ya know."

"Owens huh?"

"Uh, yeah? That's who told you right? Cause I took a couple hits?" Hopper doesn't say anything, just looks at him with something that Steve might have once thought was concern about his potential injuries. He doesn't know why today of all days Hop decided to show up cause he got knocked around a little more than planned but it doesn't bode well when something in his face shifts and he lets out a tired sigh. "Oh, but don't worry!" That came out louder than he intended. "I'm totally fine. Like I said, I just need to walk it off and I'll be back out there in no time. You don't gotta worry about a thing, I've got it handled. Like I said, Owens is just overreacting. Nancy can cover for me tomorrow and then I'll be right back on the roster I promise. You and Mrs. Byers don't have to worry about a thi-"

"Steve. Shut up." He feels his jaw snap shut, the edge of his tongue and inside of his cheek getting caught in his teeth. "I didn't hear it from Owens. The kids told me. Owens knows you're hurt?"

"Uh, ye-yes sir. He's the one who sent me home. Gave the kids a detail to transport them and keep them protected while I'm out of commision. One officer to drive them around and they're being tailed by at least 3 others in case anything happens."

"Four soldiers just to replace you?"

"Oh they're not in that much danger! I'm perfectly capable of watching them usually, its just that Owen's guys are still kinda green even this deep in. Most of them just can't wrap their heads around the whole 'other dimension stuck in 1983' side of things." Hop's eyebrows shoot up under the bill of his cap. "But again, it's fine! I always take point whenever we go into a new sector and those guys are good as backup at least."

"But you're hurt." His eyebrows have come back down but now they're furrowed like he's confused or upset.

"Just a little!" He is not making things better. "I swear Hopper, you guys don't have to worry about a thing. I've got it handled, you don't have to-"

"Jesus fucking Christ, Harrington! Just shut up!" Steve flinches back, stepping further into his doorway as Hopper yells. The older man sighs, a big hand coming up to pinch at the bridge of his nose. He tries not to think of the times Robin and the kids have made fun of him for doing the same, calling it one of his 'dad poses'. "Look, I didn't come to try and give you shit about getting knocked around a little being stupid and playing soldier. I came to- I was going to ask." He sighs and his shoulders slump a little forward and his eyes are focused on the toes of Steve's (very comfortable) bat slippers that had been a gift from Wayne once the kids had told him Steve had been the one to drag Eddie out of the Upside Down. "Did you want to come over for dinner?"

Steve doesn't think he heard him right. "What?"

"Joyce is making some sort of spaghetti casserole-"

"Isn't that just baked spaghetti?"

"And we wanted to have you over. We haven't talked much since I came back. I'd like to change that."

"What?"

"You, dinner, at our place? With me and Joyce and the kids? I think Jonathan is bringing Nancy." Steve flinches and Hop silently curses himself bringing up the ex who cheated on him and the guy she cheated with.

"Why?"

"Uuh... Talking?"

Ah, he had it now. "What did the kids do? Just, lay it on me man, and I'll take care of it. Did they say something? I can have them over tomorrow and talk to them. Was it Mike, it was probably Mike, I'll get him to apologize, just-"

"Goddamn it Harrington I just wanted to ask you over for some dumbass spaghetti casserole thing and a decent conversation. Maybe watch a football game cause no one else in that house seems to enjoy a good game."

Steve isn't sure what's happening. "You want me to come to dinner. To talk?"

Hop sighs again. "Yes, kid. Just. Dinner and talking."

"Uh huh. Right. I'm just- I just need a minute." He tries not to slam the door in the man's face but he's definitely trying to be as fast as possible. He's not sure what the hell is going on but it has to be something because Hopper wouldn't just invite him over. And Joyce Byers definitely wouldn't want him in her house for something as simple as a talk and to watch football. It takes him longer than he'd like to reach the walkie on the little side table by his grandmother's rocking chair. His ribs are screaming at him and his elbow smarts from banging it on the corner as he turned into the sitting room.

"I need some sort of backup at my apartment. Like now please?!" He waits a second before pressing the speaker button again, "Over."

The walkie crackles and he hears an assortment of concerned chatter. "Steve?" Dustin's voice breaks through the general din. "What's the problem? Over."

"I- I'm not sure how to classify it? I've Got Hop at my front door but I think there's something wrong with him? Or something is trying to trick me it's him? Oh shit did I get Vecna'd??"

"Steve," Nancy snaps, shutting up most of the chatter and giving his rising panic something to focus on. "Why do you think it's not Hopper? Or that he's not in control of himself?"

"He- He invited me to the cottage for dinner?"

"What?"

"Yeah just dinner and talking? And that- that's weird right?"

Nancy sighs and Steve hears Hop say something from outside his apartment. He's running out of time. "Why is that so weird Steve?"

"Cause he doesn't like me. And Joyce really doesn't like me." He feels like that's obvious. "They don't like me and they're busy with other stuff. They wouldn't willingly ask me over for dinner and football or some shit so something has to be up."

"Seriously kid?"

He doesn't scream as he drops the walkie-talkie, spinning around to face the voice behind him.

"You're calling an emergency cause I invited you to dinner?"

Again, he feels like this is obvious. "Yes. I don't know what happened but we're going to fix it Hop, I promise. Or, like, if you're something controlling Hop or wearing his face or some shit I will figure it out and I will find the most painful way to kill you."

Hop runs a hand down his face again, he's going to have so many wrinkles after this. "Fucking Christ, kid. Is it so crazy that we wanted to try and get to know you? Make sure you're fed and taking care of yourself since apparently Owens isn't making sure you're alright?!"

What the fuck?

"Yes!" That seems to make Hop take a step back. "I tried for years to try and get the slightest acknowledgement from you! I've spent the last year taking care of the kids and monitoring the gates and fighting Powell and Owens every time they decide to try something stupid and almost get their men killed cause I realized you never meant it!" God he can hear his voice breaking and feel the tears starting to roll down his face. "You never meant it. But you meant it for El and Will and fuck, even Jonathan. And they deserved that. They needed you and you couldn't be there if you and Joyce were fighting with Owens and-" He can't hold back the sob that rips out from deep in his chest. "And I don't- I can't- I just-"

"Hey, hey kid. I need you to breath for me. Okay? Can you just let it out in one push and take a deep breathe in."

There's a large, warm hand rubbing up and down his back. His running nose is throbbing, his sore ribs are probably cracked now from how tightly he's folded in on himself and his injured leg feels wet like he pulled the stitches when he dropped to his knees on the threadbare rug. There's a deep rumbling voice talking to him, telling him how to breathe and asking him to sit up, let go of the walkie he can hear crackling as people call his name and ask Hopper what's going on. It's all just too much.

Why?

"What was that, kid?" Oh. He didn't mean to say that out loud.

"Why?"

"I fucked up. I'm trying this thing called owning up to my mistakes." Steve lets out a wet laugh that turns into a pained groan when it shakes his ribs. "Come on, let's get you up here." He tries not to cry out when Hop lifts him up from under his armpits, pulling at his ribs, but he knows he lets out a sharp whimper. "You fuck up your ribs?"

"What do you think?"

"Yeah, dumb question." Hop chuckles self-deprecatingly. "Look, let's get your ribs wrapped and we'll get you down to the hospital to get checked out an-"

"No. No hospital. Can't do 'em."

"Kid you need to get looked at and maybe some pain meds and antibiotics while you heal up."

"No fucking drugs." Steve practically growls, his teeth clenched and eyes burning as he stares up at Hop. "I'll take your fucking antibiotics but I can take a couple of ibuprofen and call it a day."

"A couple of- What the fuck, kid? You can barely walk and you're telling me you're not in serious pain?"

"I've had worse."

"Bullshit." The kid winces and the look on his face closes off. "Stop trying to be a hero and just admit you need help." Steve rolls his eyes.

"I'm fine, Hop. I've walked off worse."

"Again, I call bullshit."

"You know how thorough our Russian friends could be."

"What?"

Steve shrugs, an angry grimace on his face. "Once you live through Russian military questioning and hiking through Upside Down Hawkins, most everything after that's a piece of cake."

"Jesus Christ-"

"I don't think saying his name is gonna make him listen to ya now."

"Ya ain't cute, kid."

Steve gives him the same smile he always did whenever Hop crashed one of his 'King Steve' parties. "I'm adorable." He chuckles at himself and Hop finds himself laughing along at the kid's attitude. "What do you want, Hopper?" Steve's voice is quiet. It wavers in a way that tells him the kid is sad and hesitant and tired and Hopper can feel something niggling at the back of his mind. "You come over out of the blue asking me to dinner with your family like that's something we do. What the fuck man? What are you trying to do?"

"Like I said kid: I realized fucked up. Bad. And I'm trying to fix it."

"That's it?"

"Yeah. Yeah it is."

Steve leans back, the rocking chair leaning farther back than Hop feels comfortable with considering the kid's injuries but he manages to not rock back so far he falls. "Alright then. So what do you need?"

Hop can't follow this kid at all and he's not sure when that happened. If it's always been like that. "What are you talking about kid? You're the one that's all beat up." His mind goes back to swollen eyes and bruised knuckles covered in a rainbow of haphazardly placed bandages being fussed over by a group of dirty but uninjured kids. Bloody sailor uniforms rounding up rowdy kids without a mark on them despite obvious injuries and a slight limp and what might be bruised ribs. Bandages being removed to expose red raised around a strong neck that looks like someone took barbed wire to it and bulky bandages poking out from beneath stolen shirts. "What are you talking about what I need?"

Steve lolls his head to look at Hopper. For the first time all evening his eyes are trained on the older man unflinching and not anxiously darting away. His smile is more a resigned grimace. "What do you need to get Robin -and I'm guessing the kids- off your back?"

"It's not just because of them."

"But it is because of them."

"I want to make this right."

"It's not yours to fix, Hop. I've made peace with that. Thought I'd made that clear to the rest of them."

"I thought the kids didn't know."

"Not about you being my emergency contact and like, in charge of making big medical decisions if they couldn't get a hold of my parents. But that you'd stop by the house to make sure I hadn't like drowned washing my hair after I took a beating. That I put more stock in that than I should have."

"You were right to put stock in that stuff Steve. Fuck, if I knew anyone else in that situation I'd assume they'd basically adopted you. It makes sense."

Steve shrugs, wincing less this time. "That's life, can't fix it now."

"Will you let me try?"

"I mean. I'm giving you a get-out-of-jail-free card here man."

"And I'm not taking it."

"Well. It's there, whenever you decide to take it."

"Thanks but no thanks, kid."

"Hey, your choice Hop. Ever get tired of the boardwalk just say the word and it's yours. Do not pass 'Go!'. Do not collect $200."

"Monopoly, really?"

"My head may have gotten a knock too. Not a concussion but I'm a little... swimmy."

"Swimmy?"

"Uhm-hmm"

Hop chuckles, "You're an odd duck, kid, you know that? An odd, pain in my ass, duck."

Steve feels his face splitting in a wide smile that pulls at a small cut on his lip and lets his head fall back, his body finally starting to come down from the adrenaline rush that has been this entire interaction.

"Quack quack."

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[hippielittlemetalhead]

Realized that when I first wrote this, I never actually finished the thought and then forgot about it. So, we're cleaning it up a bit and finishing the idea: Callahan is actually Phillip Callahan Harrington. Just. Envision with me...

Phillip Callahan Harrington is born 8 1/2 months after Danny Harrington marries his highschool sweetheart [Do we have a name for her?] right after graduation in a beautiful but kind of rushed ceremony. They immediately jet off on some months long honeymoon trip across Europe then stop in New York to visit the extended Harrington clan and come back to Hawkins with a bouncing baby boy. It is a well-known secret that obviously [seriously someone tell me if there's a name for her] Harrington nee [Idk, Callahan? To explain Phil's middle name] was pregnant when they got married and they tried to hide it but that's the sort of thing you just can't hide in a small town.

Life goes on and Danny 'Adultering Asshole' Harrington has a pregnancy scare with a young secretary so Mrs. 'Socialite Save Face' Harrington decides they should have another baby. Especially since their first son was not living up to Harrington expectations. So, they have Steve. 9-year-old (practically 10 if you ask him, but no one does) Phil isn't sure about the baby they bring home just after Christmas (especially since his parents weren't able to spend Christmas Eve with him at Nonna's cause they had to go pick up his new brother) but Mom says babies make families happy so maybe mom and dad will argue less.

They don't. Phil tries to protect his too-sweet-for-his-own-good baby brother best he can but there's only so much he can do when the kid refuses to see what pieces of shit their parents are. As soon as he turns 18, he does what he needs to join the police force because his father seemed to hate that he could never buy the Hawkins police department and Phillip wants that. He wants to be able to tell his father no and know that the man just has to accept it.

He moves in with some friends as he goes through the police academy and by the time he's 18 (19 in a few months) and a probationary police officer Steve is already a changed kid. He's done his best to stay in touch with his little brother but the now 9-year-old Steve who asks why his name tag by his badge says Callahan (his middle name). And he tells his baby kid brother that he wants as little to do with their folks as possible, even if Steve doesn't understand it yet.

Life goes on and Jim Hopper comes back to town in '79 just as the elder Harringtons basically leave for good. He's 22 (pushing 23) and Steve is just turned 13 and he does what he can to help the kid, stays over most weekdays only heading to his own small apartment when Steve has groups of friends over or the two brothers just need some space from each other. By the time Steve is a Junior (about 17) Phil is 26 and only staying over when Steve asks or if the chief and Powell are on his case about the parties his kid brother, "King Steve" as they've heard some of the youth calling him, keeps throwing and the only way he knows to make sure Steve doesn't host a rager is if the kid knows he's in the house.

Then Will Byers goes missing, shortly followed by the Holland girl. Nancy Wheeler confesses the two girls were at a small 'party' at the Harrington place and Phil isn't able to intercept Flo before she calls his folks, he calls Steve to warn him their parents might be making a visit once the secretary forwards Flo's message about Steve's peripheral involvement in the case.

Things go kinda screwy from there. He learns about Steve's fight with the older Byers boy. Something about a camera and of course there was a girl involved. He's not able to get much out of his brother as he's patching him up before the chief is calling him into the station, saying Benny Hammond is dead.

His folks call the station while Phil is on paperwork duty. They are mainly calling to complain about Steve. But then there's something about Hawkins Electrical and contracts their family's company (and some of the companies they have stakes in) has with the government? He doesn't have time for any of that headache, especially when there's something over the radio about his brother's car being seen headed out to the Byers' place when most everyone knows the kid definitely has a concussion.

So Phil hangs up on his dad, who he can tell is foaming at the mouth, and dumps the rest of the paperwork he'd been shafted with on Hop's desk. He grabs a set of keys for one of the department cars and makes his way to grab his headache of a kid brother.

He parks his car right next to his brother's and makes his way to the Byers' front door. There's yelling and fire and a gun(???) and a monster coming through the fucking walls!?! After they've gotten rid of whatever that fucking was and Steve is standing there bloody and bruised and holding a nail bat full of nails and just as confused as Phil is he decides this is way above his paygrade. Nancy Wheeler (isn't that the girl his brother's been sweet on? Aren't they dating?) turns her gun on him when he goes to key his radio and Jonathan Byers does his best to diffuse the situation by slowly pushing her gunhand down and away and explaining that they were pretty sure the government goons who were responsible for whatever they just fucking fought was, were listening in to local communications so it probably wasn't a good idea to let them know how much they know.

Phil would argue they didn't know shit. But the Byers kid and Nancy obviously knew more than the befuddled brothers. So while those two are talking about next steps and checking some pretty deep looking cuts on their palms, he decides to check on his concussed brother. The kid's head isn't much worse than before, but he's definitely more banged up than how Phil left him and as a big brother and a responsible officer he doesn't much care for that turn of events. So he grabs the first aid kit from his squad car and starts patching up the kids while waiting for an explanation of some kind.

The explanation comes the next day with (apparently not crazy) Joyce Byers, Chief Hopper and some government suit with stacks of papers that say something to the effect of "Sorry about the monster and the physical injuries and brain trauma. If you keep your mouth shut we won't sue or disappear you." And as much as he kind of thinks the man deserves it at times, Phil stops Hop from signing anything. As much as he tries to avoid acknowledging it, he's still a Harrington. And until a few years ago his parents were still trying to groom him to be some sort of heir to their (slowly) growing corporate empire. So he already knows that the kids present are too young to sign anything binding and the adults are set to be legally and financially screwed if they sign or initial anything.

Phil and Steve go over the contract with a fine-tooth comb. Phil is a better reader, but Steve is good at catching most attempts at subterfuge and double-crossing and lies by omission. Between the two of them they tear apart the government's proposed NDA and present them with something that protects the kids who've gotten themselves involved and has stipulations to read in any relevant family members if complications or more interdimensional bullshit arises. The teens and the adults get a 'modest' sum of hush money. And Phil takes the opportunity to get the harried government goons to get his parents' house in Steve's name once he turns 18 and temporary guardianship handed over to himself since they're never fucking around anyway.

Steve argues against the stipulations. Hop and Joyce agree he could have gone harder and his parents would have had it coming, especially if they're partially at fault for the fucking nightmare these kids just lived through.

Phil moves back in for now. He says he'll stick around until Steve is ready to be on his own but neither of them says when that will be. They move Steve into the master bedroom and box up whatever their folks ask for and mail it off to one of their dad's offices. Steve doesn't have big ragers anymore, just swim parties with his girlfriend, the Byers boys and the middle schoolers who apparently decided they were interdimensional monster fighters now. There's something about a missing girl and it turns out Barb Holland got taken by one of those monsters like Will did and didn't make it, and there's a shell-shocked sort of somberness that covers all of them no matter what they do.

But they survived. They survived and they don't have to think about the 'Upside Down' or 'demogorgons' coming out of walls or the government knocking on their door again.

Right?

[hippielittlemetalhead]

Never Took The Time (To Forget) part 4.1 : With a Capital 'P'

Part 4.2 (Hey Dingus? Idk, the title for that one is up in the air.) will be up as soon as I have it somewhere I like (doing a different character's pov instead of Hop so it's giving me some trouble). Felt really bad that I hadn't updated in a while and this one was getting longer than I expected and I hadn't even gotten Robin really talking yet so... Happy Valentine's Day?

Part 1 (Hop Fucks Up), Part 2 (Pride and Prejudices: Joyce Edition), Part 3 (One of Us)

Family Video and the Arcade were two of the few businesses still operating after the inter-dimensional earthquakes that had tried tearing their town to pieces. Hop knew the kid who used to run the place for his uncle, Keith, had split town with his folks (said uncle in tow) leaving the store and arcade in the care of whatever employees had been willing to stay on payroll while the world fell apart.

He watches as Harrington's (more banged up than never remembers it being) car stops in front of the video store, parked parallel to the curb across at least 3 parking spots, as a wildly gesticulating Robin rolls herself out of the idling vehicle, jabbering loud enough that Hop can hear her voice from down the block. With most cars owned by the folks of Hawkins being commandeered by Owens' government goons to fill the gaps left by lost military vehicles it doesn't much matter but Hop can't help a bit of an eye roll at the kid's audacity.

But then again, he catches himself thinking, Steve was one of the only 'civilians' in-the-know and was well-known for carting around and protecting proven assets to the War Of The Worlds shitshow going on. So was there really an issue if the kid was one of the only cars on the road anyway and because he was even more read-in on the situation than even local law enforcement? If he was not only transporting and protecting people the government had a vested interest in but had proven himself more effective than even Hop and Joyce in wrangling the kids who had basically been saving the world for the last 4 years? If he kept them safe and out of harm's way in the thick of it but also kept them entertained and out from underfoot during the downtime?

Hell, the kid being one of the only employees left at some of the last businesses in town these brats would have any interest in almost guarantees the whole lot of them are continuously stocked in movies, snacks and quarters to distract them from even the most world shaking of calamities.

It hadn't occurred to him until just now what it meant for The Party that Steve and Robin seemed to be the only ones willing to hang around behind the counter at the arcade and sell and rent movies to shell-shocked townsfolk and tight-lipped government goons alike. Fuck, Lucas and Mike were right. He was an asshole.

He's pulled out of the slow spiral of realizing Mike Wheeler of all people had been right about something by Steve hollering one last "Love you, Bobby!" at a grinning and waving Buckley as she flung open the video store door and stumbled inside. He waits for the car and it's driver to round the corner before he gets out of his own government-issued station wagon. Fuck but he missed his truck.

"Welcome to Family Video, I literally just got here so you're gonna have to give me a minute before I can help you."

"I'm uh, I'm not here for a movie." He can tell she recognizes his voice (and it's a little impressive how quickly she clocks him since he's spoken only a couple words anywhere near her maybe twice in his memory. Girl has a good ear) from the way her entire body stills for a split second before whirling back into the hurricane of motion he's come to associate with her.

"Afraid we've only got movies round here, officer. You want any other medium of entertainment I'd suggest the arcade or the distribution yard." She's still not looking at him, hands busy shuffling papers and flipping open VHS cases. "Sorry, guess we'll have to catch up another time."

Hop sighs, running a hand over the short growth he's slowly getting used to again. He'd almost shaved it down again but El had been so happy when she'd realized they were growing out at about the same rate. He couldn't ever say no to her.

"Look, I know you don't like me. And it has been brought to my attention just how much I fucking earned that. But I- I need your help here, to fix it."

The flurry of movement doesn't stop but it's tighter, she's fiddling with something shoved up her shirt sleeve and tapping at the casing of a button connected to a wire leading into her green vest. Bright blue eyes are focused on him and he's almost reminded of the no-nonsense look Nancy Wheeler gets whenever they're faced with the world ending, but the girl in front of him is colder. He has no doubts that where Nancy Wheeler would tear down giants for what she believed is right, Robin Buckley would burn the world if it meant saving her people.

"Fine. He'll be back from his patrol-" He didn't remember assigning a patrol schedule and he's not sure if this is Steve's own initiative or if he's been roped into something by Owens' people. "in about twenty minutes. You have fifteen. Now why should I help you?"

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