So the world is ending, even if it's just ending in your neck of the woods, but it's definitely ending. You're stuck working another job, you can't drive out of town - not that you were doing that too much anyways the last few weeks...months...Jesus, has it been years? But you just don't, and that's okay - and the military are lined up outside town to make sure you, specifically, stay put.
It's not just you, specifically, but Steve likes to feel a little special now and again. Like, he puts himself on the back burner a lot. A. Lot. They're always giving him shit for his hair and his clothes and his dumb questions, but he gives himself to the group a lot, even if the little shits don't appreciate it. And, fine, he's antagonizing Jonathan but half of that is just payback for taking Nancy away - away! Okay, and he's over her, okay! Jesus Christ! Let a man bring his friend flowers and climb a tower, he's bored out of his fucking skull!
But pretending that all of this shit is for him (and everyone else?) makes swallowing the pain of his dead end world a little easier. Yeah, he's been beat to hell, three concussions, stitches, eye getting bled to relieve the pressure, strangled, drowned, yadda yadda, but, eh. People died! And even that is, like, another tally in the book, so might as well flip to the new page! Find the right tape, get in the flow of things at the station while Robin's doing the Squawk, and it's...damn near perfect. It's mindless. It's perfect.
They don't talk about the scars on the back of his arms, he just wears a sweater that doesn't snag on the rough skin. They don't talk about how he can't hear out of his left ear anymore, they just tend to shift to the right if they want to include him, and most of the time they don't even want to do that. Robin translates when she's interested, but she's been spending time with Vickie and that's great. That's awesome. His best friend is getting laid and she so deserves it, it's made her more fun. They talk and gossip about how to kiss girls and it's like some little hole of him has been half filled that he forgot was aching after his lost all his friends his senior year.
They don't talk about the sleep walking. They don't talk about how he showers a whole hell of a lot less because touching water, any water, makes his lungs seize up and suddenly he's trying to rip something off his throat that isn't there anymore. Robin doesn't even notice - she's on cloud ten or whatever over Vickie and they all kinda stink. Getting deodorant and stuff through the barricade is not a priority. He's gotten into his father's dusty cologne stash. It's fine.
He's pounding seven glasses of coffee before eight, but so is everyone else. They gotta get ready for a burn. They gotta get ready for a crawl. They gotta coordinate. They gotta prepare. They gotta survive. It's so normal, he doesn't even taste it as he dumps it down his throat.
His sides itch. A lot. More. After the last crawl, they hurt.
But so does everything else, so who fucking cares. He puts on the laugh track. He bops to the music, glad that he and Robin have similar tastes most of the time. Half of the time. He learns a lotta shit for him but doesn't say so. They play home base in the basement of the radio station for plans and everyone comes to stress over what to do next, what to do next, and they're so calm about it. Steve crosses his arms to secretly scratch his scars and he's so calm about it. Yeah, sure, they need more guns, sure. They're sending Hop back in the Upside Down, sure. Of course! No big deal! People died down there, no big deal! Dustin is being worse than ever, wearing that goddamn Hellfire shirt, and he knows it's only getting him into trouble! But they can't talk about it because that's...that's just not routine, man! That's not.... Max is....
He doesn't visit. God, he should, but he drinks his coffee and they play music. He drinks his coffee. He drinks-
