#it’s Byers brain worms hours

[whovianwholikesgirls]

You know the brain rot is real when you switch your lock screen from one to the other @anything-thats-rock-and-roll @itsfreakingbats @selfshippery 🙈🙈🙈🙈

[kirbsto]

Psych!Au brain worm still going strong.

Loosely thinking about Steve as Shawn, Robin as Gus, Hopper as Lassie, Nancy as Jules, and Eddie as a kinda weird version of Pierre Despereaux.

Steve and Robin growing up together, not really friends but they lived close enough to mess around the neighborhood. Robin being very book smart and thinking things through logically but eccentrically while Steves left with a photographic/eidetic memory but hating it because he doesn’t know what to Do with it and his parents would act like everything was always so easy for him.

Steve never really figuring out what he actually wants to do with his life because he resented his awareness and doesn’t particularly lean into it, especially before he moved out. His dad’s a lawyer and really tried to shove Steve into that box because “if your not gonna use that brain of yours for something useful you might as well not use it at all.” It just caused problems and yeah, maybe he had a phase where he was cocky about it but he never found it /fun/.

It was a show and tell sort of talent, repeating shit back to people verbatim because he thought it was funny. Using people’s words against them when he was at his meanest. Then he started actually hanging out with Robin after a particularly rude comment ended with him on his ass and a black eye. They just fit together well and work together well and she tries to show him he’s more than that. So they all but shake hands and start working weird ass jobs together just to have fun and shoot shit.

Robin ends up landing an Actual Real Person job at a library, something she can use her degree towards. Steve feeling kinda left behind even though they see each other basically every day. Messing around with detective Hopper at the station, calling in tips, solving shit because it’s hilarious. Hopper doesn’t like him but that’s ok because Steve doesn’t like Hopper either and it makes him laugh.

Steve calls in a tip that’s maybe a bit too on the nose and gets called down to the station. He feels a bit silly that day and just plays it up, laughs at them because “bro it’s obvious, just look at that guy- he’s shaking in his boots.” But Hopper had busted him for throwing parties and speeding a lot as a kid. It feels weirdly personal and aggressive when he slaps on the cuffs, so Steve improvises.

He starts shooting off random shit he noticed throughout the station and before he can catch up with his brain he’s telling everyone he’s a fucking Psychic. Which. Okay. Not his best little plot. But it’s Working because Chief Byers is eyeing him with curiosity and Hopper is death gripping his chair and the new hire, Nancy, is laughing into her hand.

So yeah… that’s how he finds himself yelling for Robin at her job while she’s frantically telling him to “SHUT the FUCK UP Steve we’re in a fucking Library!! What do you Mean you conned the police station into believing you Commune with the Dead????”

So Now Robin is roped in and she has a Blatant crush on the new girl who’s actually really stoic and Scary but Robin is good at getting people to have fun.

And there’s this Guy who’s way too fucking good at committing the perfect crime and it’s like Steve found his Arch Nemesis which is Crazy and Stupid and Absolutely not a complete and utter Turn On. His name is ~Eddie~ and he’s always got to get the last word in but he has this glimmer in his eyes when Steve gets pitted up against him.

It’s awesome and he’s having fun for the first time ever at a job that’s not just minimum wage and insufferable hours. He’s enjoying it and yeah maybe he gets caught up in the lie but he has a weird tentative family at this station that he hasn’t really felt in a while, for fucks sake Hopper is warming up to him even though he’ll deny it to his final breath.

He just has to… lie a lot. Unless he wants to get arrested by the same people who took him in.

[findafight]

Re: Billy, yeeaahh, I think there’s exactly one *potential* way Billy could have been persuaded to leave without a fight and that’s if Chrissy was there at the Byers for some reason and she and Steve tricked Billy into thinking he saw her instead of Max. (1/ hopefully 2)

Why is Chrissy there? I don’t know. Maybe this is a ‘Chrissy and Steve are cousins’ au and he called her over in the hopes that her presence would stop the Party from sneaking out to commit arson to save Will’s life. Maybe she actually got caught up in everything last year bc she tagged along with Steve when he went to apologize (probably another cousins au scenario). Maybe she saw Max skateboarding, thought it was cool, and started a conversation. (Part 3 incoming)

(3/3) Cheerleading is pretty hard, so if Max was either already aware of that or found out while talking/hanging out with Chrissy, I think it’s reasonable that Max might admire Chrissy, which could potentially result in Chrissy being asked to the junkyard (especially if Max didn’t buy Lucas’s story, which I don’t think she did).

oooh fascinated by Steve and Chrissy being sporty cousins who are basically siblings tho. Steve who calls Chrissy his "sister but actually my cousin but basically my sister" in his brain because she's maybe 7/8 months younger than him so was in the grade below but they grew up together and almost all the baby pictures have them together in matching outfits :') they saved worms together from the pavement after it rained. Chrissy put them in Steve's hair and he cried. (she did this many times) They sit beside each other at family gatherings and just much sly and cutting mean girl comments about their relatives to make the other laugh. Or make distressed faces at each other from across the table when grandpa Otis is getting drunk and ready to rant.

Chrissy who Steve called during his sad boy clean up his own mess hours and she was like "okay I'll drive you to the byers house? You got knocked around I'll drive please don't get in a wreck auntie Diane would kill me." and she waits in the car for him but then Shit Goes Down and there's lights flashing and Steve runs out, but he stops, and looks back. and then locks eyes with Chrissy, and runs back in. So she follows. And finds out monsters are real right beside her brother-cousin.

yeah okay I'm digging Chrissy and Steve cousins au but it HAS to be coupled with Chrissy lives au I can't do that to them. I can't make Steve try to clear Eddie's name while mourning the only family he's known loved him. (but GOD a Jason/steve confrontation in that au? where jason is like she was your family! and steve is like I know!! That's why you need to believe me that Eddie didn't do this! I want revenge just as much as you! oh god this is so sad no no Chrissy lives in harrington cousin au.)

Anyway but Yeah. I think, like. Billy just wanted to punch someone. I guess because Chrissy is a pretty and popular girl, he would at least hesitate in his itch for a fight. Billy doesn't respect women but he's savvy enough to get in with Tommy, Steve's former bestie, so he knows enough that Chrissy isn't someone he wants to be on the bad side of. So perhaps it would...slow down? the events? idk. I really do think once Billy saw Steve or Lucas he wasn't leaving without punching someone. She could try to convince him it was her in the window, if Steve had gone out first, and that might give the kids time to hide better, but Steve isn't leaving s2 without getting punched by Billy in place of Lucas. It's one of those "locked in the timeline" things for me. Sorry Steve :( at least sometimes you aren't knocked out completely.

this answer is all over the place haha but post s3 pre s4 chrissy seeing Max skateboarding and thinking it's pretty cool and striking up a little mentor-friendship with her is so cute. Two lonely girls</3 Maybe Max teaches her to kickflip and Chrissy Teaches her to cartwheel... holds her ankles up to get the feel for it...and for a little while they don't feel so alone... aww... I love giving Max role models and older girls to look up to. She's got Steve but she deserves some girls looking out for her.

[tatooedlaura-blog]

Max 2.0

post-Max. Because the car is the best place to deal with crises of being and pseudo-bad grammar ...

Our Moment Chapter 1: Five Words (post-Leonard Betts) Chapter 2: Sidebar Nonsense (post-Memento Mori) Chapter 3: Interim (floating somewhere around Unrequited) Chapter 4: Max 2.0 (post-Tempus Fugit/Max)

@today-in-fic

&&&&&&&&&&

Out of her bed and halfway down the hall before she opened her eyes, she stopped by the couch, realizing she had no idea why she was out of bed. Vague notions of her gun crossed her mind but then she heard a knock. Wavering for another moment or two in full-on sleep mode, she shook her head lightly, tried to pry her eyes open, then regretted it, eyelids stuck together, burning, dry; another knock.

She wondering in passing how long he’d been out there but finally summoning the brain power to move her legs again, she made it to the door. Peering out at him through the peephole, she yawned, then unlocked the door, pulling it open, squinting at the glaring hall light, “you okay?”

Now, he’d known she would probably be asleep, had to be asleep given it was nearly 1am, but that didn’t stop him from being surprised by her pillow-creased face and unfocused eyes, “yeah, um, I’m now realizing this was stupid. You’re asleep. I should be asleep. I’m sorry.” Not turning away, however, hoping if he stood there long enough, she’d invite him in, “I’m sorry.”

Scully knew him like no other and stepping aside, “come on in.”

He did, leaving shoes and coat on, standing, filling, overwhelming the area he stood in, doorframe small behind him, “thanks.” Folding arms, not in that annoyed way of hers but in the ‘I’m trying to hold in a yawn so I will stupidly think that crossing them will keep it from rising to the surface’. It did not work and Mulder sighed, apologizing again, “I’m sorry.”

“Are you okay?”

“I just … I can’t stop thinking about Max and the plane and just … he was me, Scully, and that’s bothering me more than I thought it would.”

“Would you like some tea?”

Reaching out, he touched her hand, the one not tucked under her elbow, proceeding to play with her knuckles, the hem of her sleeve, twisting the thermal fabric between his fingers, “I was actually wondering if maybe you’d like to go for a drive with me?”

It had been over a month since their Tennessee drive but the memories were clear and nodding, she gave him a small smile before extracting herself from his fingers, “just let me go grab a coat.” Disappearing, then reappearing quickly, she had one of his zipped sweatshirts over her shoulders, thick socks firmly in place and feet shoved in soled slippers, “ready.”

“Do you steal all my clothes?”

“Only the good ones.”

Soon in the car, they were off, quiet between them broken a minute later, “your car’s clean.”

“It happens.”

“Not often.”

Shrugging, he turned right, then left, the left again, the city night passing by them in an unnoticed blur. He seemed to have a destination in mind and asking if he did, Mulder told her, “no. I just want to get out of the city and I know this is the fastest way.”

“Understood.”

Because it was late and dark and she was tired and loose-limbed, she folded her legs under, folded hands in her lap.

She baited the hook to see if he’d bite.

He did, his hand sliding across the center irritation of a console, fingers wedging once again in the fold between bended knee and adjacent thigh. He knew she’d done it on purpose.

Neither cared.

The connection made them both feel better and Mulder, squeezing her leg lightly, “sorry I don’t have a moonroof for you.”

“It’s cloudy anyways and there’s no moon, so I’ll forgive you this time.”

“Thanks.”

She gave it awhile, the pair of them well out of the city lights, darkness prevailing before, “you’re not like Max. I mean, you are, but not in the ways you’re dwelling on.”

“But I am like him.”

“We’re all Max in our own ways. I mean, we have passions and hopes and problems and dreams but some of us fixate on them to the point where it’s their only hope, their only passion and it becomes their biggest problem.”

He moved to pull his hand away but she grabbed it, holding tight, as he spoke, “I am the poster boy now that he’s gone, Scully. I am Max 2.0.”

Twisting, she refolded her legs so they both vee’d in his direction, able to look at him better that way, turn to see him easier. Putting his hand back between her knees, she moved to hold his lower arm, firmly, trying to get her point across with words as well as tactile pressure, “if you were anything like Max, obsession-wise, I’d be long gone. You have passion, Mulder, he had fixation. There’s a vast difference.”

“Not that vast.”

“There is in my mind. Max wouldn’t be here right now, taking a midnight drive with his … partner,” that was an odd hesitation she wasn’t expecting, “he’d be in his trailer, trying to decode the conspiracies of the universe.”

“The Gunmen are probably doing that as we speak.”

“But Langley also cooks a mean prime rib, Byers plays Majhong on Friday nights with a group of semi-normal people, Frohike crochets blankets for the Veterans Hospital and has a 22-year old penpal in Denmark. These people have other interests. From what we saw and heard about Max, while he was a very nice man, he didn’t do any of that.”

“You know about the crocheting?”

“Have you seen the granny-square afghan on my couch? The one you like to snuggle with when you’re tired and don’t want to drive home? That’s Frohike’s handiwork from last Christmas.”

Suddenly, the world didn’t seem quite so down on him after all but he still felt something he couldn’t shake. Ignoring that, however, for the moment, he scoffed, “he’s never made me a blanket, that yarn-wielding bastard.”

“I’ll drop a hint next time I see him.” Feeling the tension leaving him slowly, Scully began moving her left hand up his arm, around the back, to lightly rub the underside of his bicep, other hand splayed around his wrist. It was an unconscious thing at first, then, noticing it, she decided she liked it and stayed. “Do you think there’s any hot chocolate out here in the sticks?”

Looking at the houses still visible from the road they were on, more spaced apart than a few minutes ago but still numerous, “you’ve been living in the city too long if you think this is the sticks.”

“You call it the city; I call it a severe lack of 24-hour dining possibilities with hot chocolate necessities.”

“You’re wordy today. Did you snack on a dictionary before going to bed?”

“Is that your polite way of telling me to quit mouthing off?”

And now her mouth was foremost on his mind.

Dammit.

“I have M&Ms in the glove compartment. Is that a good enough compromise?”

Retrieving the candy post-haste, she popped one in her mouth, then offered him one, “sugar?”

“Sure. Why not?”

Both chewing, Scully returned to her previous position, “peanut. I approve.”

Continuing on, they covered all kinds of light subjects, music, family, things they visited often but both always enjoyed, especially hearing about the antics of Scully’s extended family, brothers, cousin, bevy of nieces and nephews. After one exuberant story about Sam, second oldest of the bunch, Mulder wiped his eyes, tears of laughter blurring his vision, “how did you land all these people? I mean, you have the cast of some off-beat comedy show and I’ve got my mother.”

He hadn’t meant to bring the atmosphere down and Scully didn’t want to keep it there but she had to tell him, in words he apparently didn’t hear the first seven times she told him, “you realize my mother has adopted you right? I mean, there may not be paperwork but there’s pie. Also, just to let you know, do you remember when you were asking me about my mom’s dentist appointment, about her infected tooth last week?”

“Yeah?”

“I had no idea she was having any issues but I pretended to know because, good Lord, Mulder, you knew about it and I didn’t.” Giving him that look that made his smile return, “does that tell you anything about the level of your acceptance into my family?”

“I mean,” looking almost sheepish, “she called to talk to you and I answered and we just …”

Patting his shoulder, “it’s okay, Mulder. My mother can love you more than me occasionally. I don’t mind.”

His eyebrow went up, about to bring down the grammar hammer on her, hard, “you love me? I had no idea. When did this happen? Was it after I introduced you to the Conundrum or, ooh, I bet is was around the time you were trapped with me in Alaska. That tiny room? Checking for murderous prehistoric alien worms?”

Total confusion all over her face, “What?”

“You said occasionally, your mother loved me more than you. So, I deduce that you love me most of the time and now I’m trying to figure out when that all started.”

Fuck.

Oh, hell, why not just play along?

“I’m pretty sure it was when you were about to head into the hospital with Modell: looking up at me with that camera on your head, Kevlar all tight, panicked look in your eye.”

Wait … was she humoring him? He was treading into the unknown now, not sure if he should keep going, “um … what?”

Her laughter bounced around the interior of the car, a happy sound, a light sound he hadn’t heard in awhile, “nervous, Mr. Mulder?”

Smiling himself finally, “just … left-field line drive came in a little faster than I expected.”

“Are we back to baseball again?”

He was going to crash the car in the next two minutes if this kept up, “I think we should just drive in silence for a minute. My brain did something and just … give me a minute.”

Fuck again.

She was pretty sure with one joke, two follow-ups and a mention of baseball, she’d quite possibly changed the course of their relationship in ways she had no understanding of. Silence nerve-wracking, she fumbled for words, “I’m just glad the two of you get along so well. It’ll make things easier.”

She’d never felt atmosphere shift like it did in that moment, the air hardening between them. Mulder looked at her, any trace of humor gone from his face, “make what easier?”

“If … if something happens to me. I’ll feel better knowing … you’d … have each other, I guess.”

Mulder steered roughly to the left, blew through a stop sign, then pulled them into a large, dark parking lot, a high school if Scully read the sign correctly as Mulder raced past. Hitting the breaks, he threw the car into park, got out and slammed the door, leaving Scully stunned. She hadn’t meant to make it sound as harsh as it did and sighing, she opened her own door, zipping up her sweatshirt as she did so. He’d turned the headlights off so the only light was from a parking lot fluorescents fifteen feet away. Coming around the front of the car, she tugged on his arm, “hey, look at me, please?”

“Have you given up already?”

With a genuine scoff in his direction, “I don’t give up on anything. What the hell kind of question is that?”

“You said when something happens to you.”

“No, I said if.” Taking him by the arms, she turned him around until his back was to the car, “will you sit down?”

“Why?”

“So I can look at you, and not up your nose, when I talk.”

He conceded, sitting down on the bumper, “nothing’s going to happen to you.”

“Yes, I know.” Coming in closer, she forced her way between his knees, “but I learned from you to plan for all eventualities. I have a prepacked suitcase for when you ring my doorbell at 5am telling me we leave in 20 minutes. I have $500 cash in my purse and another $500 in my carry-on for emergencies …”

“Bail money for me?”

“Some of it, yes.” Continuing, “I now prepare for all things, even if there isn’t a chance in hell they’re going to happen. You forced me to learn that and I have and that’s all my comment was. I will be fine,” moving her palms to his face, thinning fingers, delicate steel hands against his cheeks, covering his ears as she tilted his head up to look at her, “but I feel better knowing mom has you and you have mom. You became friends with her while I was missing. I haven’t been forcing you together to create some superficial bond to make my never going to happen, non-impending doom easier to accept. She invites you for pie. You arrive and eat pie. You go home with leftover pie. I have nothing to do with that but I’m glad it happens.”

By now, his hands were on her wrists, eyes glued to her, closing as she leaned in, mirroring that accursed hospital hallway not that long ago. Once her forehead touched his, she whispered, “you are not Max. You have so many people here who love you and need you and you have so much to offer them back and you do. That’s the difference between you and Max. He searched for himself. You search for me, Mulder. You search,” kissing his forehead, then quickly his mouth, “for me.”

Then she wrapped her arms around him and felt his go around her waist. Hugging him tightly, she let the world disappear, sinking against him, warm, solid, against her.

“Who knew this much angst could come from a misplaced modifier?”

“We know now. Never let it happen again.”

With a chuckle, he shifted his head, talking into her shoulder, “Modell? Really?”

She just hugged him tighter, staying quiet against him as he held her close.

&&&&&&&&&&

They may have stayed like that for two minutes. It may have been ten. Regardless, eventually, Scully had to whisper into Mulder’s neck, where her mouth had landed earlier when she turned her head, “Mulder?”

Just as quietly, “yeah?”

“Can you take me home to bed, please?”

“Should I comment on the structure of that sentence as well or just be quiet?”

Giving another kiss to his neck, she pushed back off of him, sly grin, “just take me home.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

&&&&&&&&

After a quiet goodnight/good morning at her bedroom door, he wandered to the living room, taking up residence on her couch, 3am sleepy as his head hit the spare pillow and his mind was finally calm.

[curiositydooropened]

Movie Night

Steve skipped up the lawn to the Buckley’s front door, sneakers dampening in the wet grass. The nights turned darker quicker and the bustle of the beginning school year settled the streets of Hawkins. A chaotic summer full of new shopping centers and a town torn apart soon dipped to cool autumn nights, and the rumors seemed to fade with the falling of the leaves.

---

Read the rest on AO3 or keep reading.

Steve skipped up the lawn to the Buckley’s front door, sneakers dampening in the wet grass. The nights turned darker quicker and the bustle of the beginning school year settled the streets of Hawkins. A chaotic summer full of new shopping centers and a town torn apart soon dipped to cool autumn nights, and the rumors seemed to fade with the falling of the leaves.

Steve could still smell SS Butterscotch, still nursed the tear at his lip with a slick tongue, still heard Russian conversation ringing in his ears. With the new school year came study sessions for the nerds, who weren’t allowed to be out on school nights, and Steve found himself mostly alone in his room, haunted by plaid walls and the Flesh Monsters of his mind. He thought he’d be used to it by now. A nineteen year old guy shouldn’t be afraid of the dark.

And yet, he practically sprinted from his BMW to the Buckley’s front stoop. The wrap of his knuckles was answered by a stately woman in a power suit, clearly readying herself to be out the door as fast as he had entered. “Mr. Harrington,” the woman commented with a knowing smirk on red lips. She fastened a pearl stud to her earlobe. “I didn’t know we were expecting you.”

“Sorry, Mrs. Buckley,” Steve leaned awkwardly on the balls of his feet, unsure if he was permitted to enter or if he should just leave now. He never knew where he stood with the Robin’s parents.

Understandably, they believed Steve had pulled their daughter from a burning building. Robin was convinced her mom thought they were screwing, an uncomfortable tidbit that sent Steve’s cheek burning as he stared into the older woman’s eyes. Robin’s father was a military man, not around much, intimidating as hell.

“That’s quite alright, dear. What are you two up to tonight?” Again, the look.

Steve rocked back on his heels, running an awkward hand through his hair. “Oh I don’t know. I think watch a scary movie?”

“How exciting. I’m off to a book club night. I’ll be home late. Take of her, will you?” Mrs. Buckley shoved a book under her arm for emphasis, the cover was stained purple and atop it was a Fabio-haired man that reminded Steve a little too much of Billy Hargrove. He blanched.

“Mom, go!” Robin’s voice called from within the house.

Mrs. Buckley waved her off with a smile. “I’m going, I’m going! Lock up behind me. You kids have fun!” And she was off.

Robin stood atop the staircase, all legs under an oversized t-shirt. Her hair was a mess in a scrunchie atop her head, and she stood with one hand on her hip, the other gesturing for him to hurry his ass inside. It’s getting cold.

Steve did as instructed, slipping soggy sneakers onto the entry mat and shrugging off his red and white puffed jacket. Dustin had asked him where he’d gotten it. He didn’t share, figured he’d get it for the kid for his birthday coming up.

“I’m thinking Evil Dead,” Robin squawked her way around the corner and up the stairs, not bothering to make sure he had followed.

Steve groaned. “Again? It’s like I’ve befriended Jonathan Byers.”

“You have befriended Jonathan Byers.” Robin reminded him, stopping at the doorway to her bedroom to prove her point.

“Shared trauma does not make us friends.”

“Shared girlfriend might.”

“Fuck off.”

Robin grinned.

Robin’s bedroom was a hodge podge of nerdom and geekery. It wasn’t covered in Science crap like Dustin’s, but the Arts. There were hand painted Drama masks in one corner and a Saxophone stand in the other. She had a collection of video cassettes and vinyl records and everything was bright colors and black all at once. She’d carved sonnets into her headboard with a ball point pen. A small television stand stood opposite her bed, just beside a window. She climbed out that window one night, late August, and biked to his house. They stayed up for hours outside the pool, talking about Starcourt, talking about it all.

Unceremoniously, she plopped onto her bed, belly first, legs flopping behind her. She fluffed a pillow under her chest and patted the spot next to her for Steve to sit. At the foot of the bed, near her head, was a bowl of popcorn and a platter of assorted candies. The colorful gummies reminded Steve of topping sundaes and his head spun a little. Reluctantly, he slipped beside her, back to her headboard, socked feet near her shoulder.

“Keith said they’re hiring down at Family Video,” Robin offered, pulling a gummy worm between her teeth. She leaned forward for the remote and the bed shifted under her weight.

“Ugh, Keith?”

“A job’s a job, dingus. Do you want cash or not?”

Steve supposed she was right. Well, it was Robin, she was always right. But the idea of slinging video tapes next to Loud Mouth Buckley and Pizza Face didn’t seem ideal. Although, his dad had been on his ass again. The novelty of his traumatic incident had seemed to have worn off on the old man. Steve should suck it up.

“So how’s school?” Steve asked as Robin fast forwarded through the commercials.

She shrugged. “Weird. It’s almost like no one else fought a human flesh monster from another dimension.”

Steve snorted. “Yeah, that’s so bizarre.”

Robin rolled over to face him. “No really, though. It sucks. It’s like everyone just forgot.”

“Everyone that could,” Steve nodded. He picked at a pen mark on the lap of his jeans.

“Nancy’s doing well,” Robin prodded at him with a spindly finger.

“I didn’t ask.” Steve sighed.

“I know, but you loooooved her,” Robin cackled. He always forgot how juvenile she was.

“Yeah, well, I’m seeing that… Patsy girl, or whatever.” He’d taken a girl from high school on a couple of dates now. She was a senior too, a little geeky. They mostly made out in his car. She was a sloppy kisser and didn’t seem like she was going to put out, and she definitely wasn’t relationship material.

“Ugh,” Robin rolled her eyes. “I told you not to go there. She’s a lost cause.”

“Apparently that’s my type,” Steve sighed. “Are we going to watch this movie or what?”

Steve didn’t know how they did it, how they could through hours of prosthetic makeup and gore and horror, after what they’d been through. Maybe they were desensitized. Scary movies just weren’t scary anymore, they were almost comical. Bruce Campbell had no idea of the real horrors that were out there, that walked among us. The worst of it was, most of Steve’s nightmares weren’t even about the monsters he’d seen and killed, but about the humans, the ones that got away.

The film had ended and he wiped at tired eyes, propped up against his bent knee. Robin slurped the last few bubbles from her can of Coke and threw her head back against the headboard. “Dingus?”

“Hm?”

“Do you think we’re going to be fucked up forever?”

“Probably.” Steve sighed. The red thread had become to pull loose on the toe of his sock. “I used to think I could be normal if I just pretended. Like, if I just act like a normal teenager, I am a normal teenager, but I think that’s… bullshit.” He snorted.

“Yeah, it’s like, I want to do normal teenaged shit, like get stoned with my friends after band class, but I can’t because I’m terrified I’m going to let it all out, and then they’re going to just ditch me because I’ll be that freak girl who makes up monsters.”

Steve ran his hand through his hair. “Yeah, I guess I never really thought of that. I always had Nancy, and then when I didn’t, I just channeled it into sports, I guess.”

“Ugh, sports,” Robin scoffed.

A moment passed between them.

“Dingus?”

“Yeah, Rob,” he closed his eyes, leaning his chin on his knee. He wondered if he had patience for more of her questions tonight. The lure of his bed at home seemed ever present, and sometimes he wanted to shut out the horror, to turn off his brain and think of sports and video games and the girls in magazines in his closet and not Hawkins and all of this shit.

“When I go to college, are you coming with me?”

He hadn’t thought of that, and he didn’t want to. The prospect of college felt far off, unwelcome, felt like something he wasn’t built to endure. He worried too much about his kids, his family, he had to take care of them now that Hopper was gone, and Joyce. He had to fill that void, subconsciously of course. “I don’t know, Rob. I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

“That’s fine,” she agreed. He was glad she knew he needed to take things slow. “I’m forcing you to apply for Family Video with me though.”

He groaned, flopping dramatically to the pillow beside her. She laughed and splayed a hand across his chest. “Think of the babes, Harrington.” She said softly. “Chicks love movies.”

Steve managed to slip out the door just as Mrs. Buckley was arriving home. The woman giggled her way up the stoop, slipping in heels, breath wine soaked. She gave Steve a kiss on the cheek, smearing her lipstick as she went, and he blushed as she grappled his arms for stability when she removed her shoes from her heels.

“Have a goodnight, Mrs. Buckley,” he managed, getting ready to close the door behind himself, but the woman stopped him with a slammed hand.

Her face went suddenly sober, eyes brimming with emotion. “Thank you for saving my little girl.”

He smiled softly and nodded. “Anytime, Mrs. Buckley,” and he meant it.