Chapter Text

Prologue

Eddie died. Max fell into a coma. Vecna’s gates carved up the town, and the world went to hell.

The soldiers came first, even before the demo-creatures started pouring through. When people saw the planes flying overhead and soldiers marching in, they’d thought the army would fix things. Would tell them why the plants were withering and the ground had sliced into fractured pieces. They’d been relieved.

They were idiots. Hawkins became a containment zone. In mere days, looming barbed wire fences were erected around the town limits, with soldiers guarding it from lookout points in the trees. Nothing was to come in, but more importantly, nothing and no-one was to come out, either. The records from the 1985 incident told them how easy it was for the Upside Down to control someone and turn them into a body-bag. They couldn’t allow for a chance that that could happen on a larger scale. People still tried to escape. Especially when the demo-creatures began to swarm. They ran to the fences, hoping if they could just get across, they would be safe.

Bodies piled up quickly. The fencing got taller, more menacing. Black, spiked, electrified wires which crisscrossed in foreboding patterns.

The government wasn’t interested in saving anyone inside the city limits. The soldiers who’d been sent inside knew they’d gone on a suicide mission. Steve remembered talking to one of them in the very beginning; a young guy, barely eighteen. “Sure, I’m gonna die. I knew that coming in. But goddamnit, I’ll be taking as many of these fuckers with me as I can.”

It became a kind of mantra in his head, as the monsters continued to swarm from the gates. There were so many. They came through in waves, each more horrifying than the last. Demogorgons were the largest and most lethal on their own. Just one could mow over twenty men. The rest of the demo-creatures were nothing to sniff at either, though. Vecna engineered new monsters each day. The demogorgons and the dogs were joined by massive bugs, worms, and fish, each more deadly than the last. The world was full of horrors, and it felt like for every monster they killed, three more took its place.

Steve knew he was going to die. He was expendable in a way other members of the team weren’t. El was their major player; their only chance of winning at this point. Well, both her and Max, who’d gained her own set of powers after El had revived her. The two were their most critical players. After that, Hopper, Nancy, and one of the soldiers offered the strongest attacks against the creatures. Each of them could strategize as well as they could kill.

They all wanted to keep the kids alive as long as they could. Save the omegas and children was the thing everyone said in the face of tragedy. Alphas like Steve put themselves on the front lines so the others didn’t have to. It was what he was born for.

He made it until October. Longer than he'd expected. By that point, too many people had died.

A week after the gates opened, Vecna took over Will’s body, making the kid his perfect vessel. Jonathan had died trying to stop it from happening. Karen and Holly Wheeler had been some of the many who’d been mowed down by soldier’s bullets, trying to find an escape. Murray’d been killed by a pack of demo-dogs while he’d acted as bait, pulling them away from the rest of the group. Mrs. Henderson’s remains had been found in her home. Nobody was sure what had killed her. Joyce, Wayne, Lucas’s dad…people died, one after the other.

And now it was Steve’s turn. He looked at the many-eyed creature before him and knew deep in his soul that he was going to die.

The creature stood ten-feet tall and looked like it was made up of six rings of a white, feathery material; each spinning around themselves to form a sphere. The rings held hundreds of eyes, and at the very center of the creature burned a black fire. Most strange, it had no smell to it.

Steve’s alpha nose had long since been able to pick out the scent of rot that followed each of the demo-creatures. It was what he relied on most to keep him safe on nights like these, when it was so easy to get lost in the dark. This thing, with its lack of any scent or sound, was all too easy to stumble upon. Its hundreds of eyes locked on him and he gulped, wanting to run but knowing it was useless.

There you are, it said, its voice sounding like thunder in his mind. We have been waiting for you.

Steve gulped, clenching the nail bat in his hands, heart hammering in his chest. He’d been out on a search for food, and the other members of his foraging group were right behind him. If he stayed silent, they’d walk into this monster, too. He could smell the rot of demo-creatures in the distance. If he cried out, the things would swarm him in an instant.

His mouth set in a grim line of determination. It wasn’t courage, exactly. Just a grim feeling at the base of his chest: better me than someone else. He gripped the nail bat with both hands, readying himself for his final death cry that would call this thing and all the other demo-creatures in a five-mile radius towards him. The group would know what the shout meant―would know it was time to run in the opposite direction.

He couldn’t risk any last words. Not yet. The walkie hung on the back of his belt, silent.

You do not run, the being said, and its voice was like thunder in his mind. It had the aura of something ancient, and for the first time he wondered: did this thing belong to Vecna at all? It felt too big for that, somehow. Like it would never endure being controlled by something as small as that corrupted human.

Steve planted his feet, eyes wild. It wasn’t his job to run. If he ran, he’d be robbing the others of their chance to escape. And that wasn’t something he was equipped to do.

No, if someone was going to die here, it might as well be him. He twirled the bat in his hand, and the eyes seemed to look deep inside him. “I’m not fucking running.” Steve said, rallying himself to fight. It was their motto, after Eddie’s death. No more running.

Gritting his teeth and clenching his hands against the bat, he fought every instinct that told him to be silent and survive. Tears in his eyes, he screamed his final cry. Immediately, he could hear the screeches of dozens of demo-creatures in the air. They’d heard him and were coming to feast.

If he had any luck, he’d be dead before they did. He rushed the creature made of wheels and eyes. His feet thudded under him. His breath stung in his lungs.

“Steve!” Dustin’s voice cried from the walkie.

Just before Steve reached his target, that thunderous voice spoke once more into his mind: Yes. You will do nicely.

Steve swung his bat wildly. There was a loud clanging noise, almost like a bell. And then―then there was nothing but white light.

Chapter 1

The First 1983

In October of 1983, Steve Harrington’s biggest worry was that he hadn’t yet presented as an alpha. Just about everyone else he knew had presented already. Even his girlfriend, a year younger than him, presented as an omega over the summer. Steve tried stay patient, but it was hard watching all his friends present as alphas and hit their growth spurts ^1., while he still had to wait. Sometimes, when it was late and his mind was the most active, he worried that he might be defective. Maybe he would never present at all.

. . .

Steve woke in a frenzied tangle of blankets and sheets. He catapulted himself off the bed, ready to fight. His hand instinctively reached for the nail-bat he kept propped up against the frame and his heart thudded as his hand swiped through empty space. It was gone. He fumbled for the knife on his end table, accidentally knocking his blaring alarm to the floor.

His beating heart gradually steadied itself as he rushed to take stock of his surroundings. The wheel-creature was nowhere to be found. He’d somehow been transported to his bedroom, and…passed out? His alarm had woken him up. As he picked the clock off the ground, he checked the time: 6:00 am. Much earlier than he was used to waking, unless he’d been assigned to a morning watch.

What happened? He didn’t feel like he was just waking from sleep. It felt more sudden than that, like one second he’d been rushing to his death, and the next he was shooting up out of bed. Even stranger, something had muted his sense of smell. He could still sniff a couple things out--the soft detergent on his bedsheets, the wood of his endtable, his...parents?-- but it was weaker than before. 

It was strange he’d been transported here of all places, too. The Harrington home had been damaged in the earthquakes; they’d used it as a safehouse only once, when they’d been in transit from the border fence to the old Byers home. But it was too close to the gates to use regularly.

Had the wheel-creature transported him here, or had someone saved him and brought him back? He searched the room for clues, but the more he did, the more strange he found the space. When the earthquake hit, Steve’s room had been mostly spared, but his furniture had still topped over. The room looked like a mess when he’d last seen it, with items scattered everywhere. Since then, it had undoubtedly deteriorated more as democreatures, time, and the elements took to it. He remembered his windowpanes had been broken, so water had soaked the carpet. His bedroom should be a moldy, hollowed out mess by now. Instead, the room around him was pristine. No scent of mold or rot or decay, just soap. Comfort. Home. Every item on his desk was meticulously organized. Every item on his desk was there. Even stranger, Steve’s old Scout Camp pocketknife was the only weapon in the room. And even that was shoved into the back of his desk drawer.

He could have sworn he'd left at least three weapons stashed in here before the gates had opened up. Maybe someone stole them? And then cleaned his room? That didn't make sense.

Still, people didn’t survive long in Hawkins if they didn’t have a weapon. Steve shoved the knife into his pants pocket, noticing for the first time what he was wearing. Someone had changed him into a pair of his old pajamas while he’d been sleeping. 

He pulled the clothing to his nose and sniffed in once, twice, trying to see if it would give him any hints to who had changed him, but his muted sense of smell picked up nothing. He breathed in again, trying to get a better whiff, but his sense of smell didn’t change. It gave only the most general impression that this was home, his alphas were here, he was safe^2..

Curiouser and curiouser.

His parents weren’t here, of course. Their smells lingered in the space, but he knew it had to be leftover from years of living there. They’d been out of town when the earthquake happened, so there would be no way for them to enter the containment zone. The last time Steve had seen them was at the beginning of March.

It was rare for smells to last this long, though. They smell crisp and close, even with his muted senses. Another mystery of this place. Steve breathed the scent in again, savoring the way it comforted his beating heart. As glad as he was that they were safe from all the Upside Down creatures, he still missed his parents terribly. They had never been particularly close―both his parents were alphas, they didn’t do closeness ^3.. But the scared little pup inside him still knew that whenever they were around, he’d be safe. A sense of safety that was lost forever when the news of the containment zone hit and he realized he’d never see his parents again.

Rallying his courage, he pulled the pocketknife out of his hand, holding it in front of him. If he needed the answers to his questions, he’d need to do some exploring. He turned the knob to his bedroom door, opening it with agonizing slowness. He didn’t dare to make a noise. That was the quickest way to die, if there happened to be any demo-creatures about.

Walking out into the hall, he couldn’t help but blink in surprise. Even in the dim light of early morning, he could see that the damage from the earthquake had completely disappeared. The gaping chasm that once split his living room was gone and the furniture was all sitting in its proper place. Even the paintings still hung on the walls. He fumbled for the light-switch, needing to see it better with his own eyes.

Sure enough, everything looked as good as new. He rubbed his eyes, as if clearing them would make everything go back to the dilapidated wreckage it was before. He began to wonder if this might not be reality at all. Maybe it was one of Vecna’s illusions. It didn’t feel like an illusion, but then again, they never did.

The proof is in the details, Max had told the group once, when mental attacks were more common. Vecna’s illusions are never perfect. He takes information from your mind, so he can never quite get everything right. There’s always things your mind doesn’t keep track of―the writing on someone’s shoes, the face of someone in the background, the veins on a leaf. Pay attention to the details and you might get yourself out of it before he hits you.

Steve returned to his room, determined to find the cracks in the illusion. It proved more difficult than he’d expected. As he looked through his closet, he found it completely full to the brim of clothing and other items. His old school binders sat on the very top shelf and he reached for them, expecting it to be an immediate giveaway. He had no memory of the contents inside, so of course they’d be blank―

But, no. Each and every page was full of his own messy handwriting, outlining notes from his many high school classes. In the first binder, there was everything from his sophomore year; notes from Algebra and Spanish that he knew he didn’t remember. And yet it sat there on the page, proudly displaying its attention to detail.

When he turned his attention to his clothing, it was similarly detailed. Even the texture of the clothing felt right in his hands. He thought he’d hit the jackpot when a hole he remembered being in a certain shirt wasn’t there, but a stain he expected on another one was. The inconsistencies were strange. Though even the peeling lettering was perfectly rendered, some of the clothing he’d expected was missing. Beyond that, some of the pants he knew he’d given away during his post-presentation growth spurt were there. He turned them over in his hands, thinking. 

On a whim, he decided to try a pair on. It was probably a bad idea; he needed to put his knife down to do it, and it was courting death to be unarmed in a potentially dangerous environment. But he couldn’t resist, and―sure enough―they fit him perfectly, even though he knew he’d grown out of them years ago.

On top of all of that, he suddenly realized he had to pee. He’d never heard of someone being aware of their bodily functions during a Vecna vision. But if it wasn’t a vision, what was it? What could have possibly repaired his house from the earthquake so easily?

He got his answer as soon as he walked inside the bathroom door.

Because standing there, staring back through the mirror, was his unpresented high-school self. Steve’s jaw dropped. He rushed to the mirror, hands pressing against the glass. He looked, what, fourteen? Fifteen? It was hard to tell. Alphas' growth stunted a bit until they finally hit their presentation.

The body Steve was used to was rugged. He’d shot up to six feet tall after he’d presented and putting on muscle came easily to him. It was hard to find a barber after the end of the world, so he kept his hair past his shoulders and a beard on his face. Scars from his many battles against the demo-creatures stood out on his skin, covering his neck, arms, and torso.

This version of him looked completely different. He was much shorter: he’d only been about five foot seven or so before he’d presented, and he looked downright scrawny without all his muscle. He didn’t have a beard; hell, he didn’t even have any hair on his chest. His jaw was weaker, his eyes looked bigger, and his once long hair was now cut short, curling at his ears.

Wow. He hadn’t been aware of how much he’d matured in the past couple of years until he saw all the changes close up.

This had to be an illusion. He quickly relieved himself before scrambling to check for any signs that this was not reality. There were none. Even the cleaning supplies beneath the sink were there, with detailed labels on the back. The shower was stocked with all his hair-care products, each with the labels intact. There was a hair on the shower wall, bleach stains on his towel, soap scum on the lip of the sink.

There was no way around it: this was no illusion. This was real life.

Then, what, he was in the past? But that was crazy. There was no way. No way. 

A rap on the door startled him from his thoughts, and Steve rushed to meet whoever was knocking at his bedroom door. Surely they would be able to offer an answer to his questions―

“Oh my word.” His dad’s voice said. “It looks like a tornado came through here.”

Steve stopped short, staring at his dad. His breath came in short pants, instinctively trying to scent him. Sure enough, his dad’s smell met his nose, crisp mint and pine. “Dad?”

His dad turned to him. Steve would know that face anywhere. There were the same down-turned eyes Steve’d inherited. The full head of gray hair, the thick brows and strong nose and face full of lines―“Holy hell, are you not even ready for school? Steven. Are you seriously going to be late again? You know this is what your mother and I always say about you needing to shape up and take more responsibility. Do you think this kind of behavior will fly when you get a job? Because I can tell you right now―oof!”

His dad stumbled under the impact of Steve’s body slamming into his own. Steve wrapped his arms around the older man, squeezing his eyes shut as he scented him desperately. He didn’t even care about the lecture. He was just so relieved to see his dad, who he’d never thought he’d see again in his life.

He’d thought he’d never get to say goodbye. The phone lines were cut almost immediately after the earthquake; there’d been no way to contact either of his parents. He wasn’t sure what the official story the government had given them, but he imagined they were told he’d died in some horrible disaster. Sometimes he’d stayed up late at night, wondering how they’d reacted to his death. Wondering if they were still mourning or if they’d moved on. Wondering if they’d cried.

Steve cried now. He knew it was unmanly, but he couldn’t help it. He was just so happy. “You’re here!”

“Um, yes? What the hell?” His dad patted his back awkwardly. “Were you…not expecting me to be? You know my business trip doesn’t start until next week.”

“I forgot.” Steve answered, hoping it gave himself some kind of excuse. “Sorry, I just―nightmare.”

“Well.” His dad said awkwardly, peeling Steve off of himself. “It was just a dream. Nothing to worry about. I―I’ve got to get ready for work. Don’t be late for school.”

Then he was gone, and the reality of things finally settled in. This wasn’t an illusion. This world had far too many meticulous details for that to be the case. This wasn’t the world Steve knew, either. There were no signs of the earthquakes, his dad was in town, his own body had changed. So, there was no other conclusion he could reach except for the most obvious―and most unbelievable―one.

Steve had somehow been transported back into the past.

Once he figured that out, it was easy to make the obvious connections. Steve had presented as an alpha during the demogorgon attack of 1983. So, if he was still unpresented, then he’d been transported to some time before then. Which meant that Vecna had not yet opened the gates to the Upside Down. The town hadn’t been destroyed…if he was lucky, Will Byers might not have even gone missing yet. Nobody had died: not Jonathan, not Mrs. Henderson, not Will, or the Wheelers, or Eddie, or Billy, or maybe even Barb.

None of that had happened yet. And so Steve still had a chance to change it. He could save them; he could save everyone.

He just needed to figure out how.

…

Maybe the human brain wasn’t made to process big things like going years back in time. It didn’t feel real. He got dressed in a fog. By now he was used to not giving a shit about his appearance, so he barely glanced at the mirror as he shrugged a cable-knit sweater over the T-shirt he’d slept in and brushed his teeth as quickly as he could.

His dad was waiting for him in the kitchen, clutching his coffee and dressed in a comfortable-looking robe. “Didn’t think you’d make it in time.” He commented, turning a page in the local paper. Steve stopped short next to him, pulling back the newspaper to reveal the date: October 27th.

“Is this from today?” He asked, grabbing some milk from the fridge and and heating up some oatmeal. It was a shitty first meal after subsisting on nothing but canned food from Murray’s food storage for the last couple of months, but it would have to do. He was supposed to get himself to school on time, and he didn’t want to disappoint his dad the first day he saw him.

“Yes. Did you forget the date again? Do you have a project due? I swear, you’d lose your head if it wasn’t screwed on―”

Steve drenched his oatmeal in fruit and honey, savoring the first bite. There. That hit the spot. “I don’t have anything due, jeez. I just wanted to check what day it was.”

“Sure,” his dad snorted, emphasizing how much he didn’t believe him. “You’d better get going soon. Don’t want to be late.”

Not one for small talk, his dad. Steve carried his bowl to the key holder next to the fridge, breathing out a sigh of relief when he saw the Bimmer keys there. They’d been a present for his sixteenth birthday after he got his license, so if they were there, it meant he could drive himself without worries. He glanced at the clock. “I’m not taking the bus. I still have like, fifteen minutes before I have to leave.”

“Hmph.” His dad grunted into his coffee, and Steve honestly wasn’t sure if the man had forgotten his son could drive, or if he just wanted to be rid of him. On a normal day, either might’ve hurt his feelings, but now Steve’s lips couldn’t help but twitch up. It was just so in character, he couldn’t help but feel fond. That was his dad. His dad was here.

He left for school shortly after that and got there with time to spare. It was strange seeing the old school building. It looked so terribly normal. Hundreds of kids made their way into the building, each going about their days like nothing had happened. They had no idea what was to come. How dark this world would turn in a few short years. As he got out of the car, he savored the feeling of the brisk air biting his cheeks. 

It was peaceful, here. There was no danger, no worry of monsters attacking him. Only the quiet companionship of being surrounded by other students. He still couldn't believe he was back in time. It just didn't seem real. Not by a long shot. It felt strange walking on the blacktop with the other students, saying hi half-heartedly as people greeted him, walking into a high school and actually belonging there.

He made his way to the cafeteria, where kids usually waited until the teachers were ready for them to come to class. Nancy met him at the doorway.

Nancy. She looked nothing like the last time he'd seen her. 1986 Nancy was all grit--she'd buzzed her head after Jonathan died, an expression of her grief. Then she'd kept it like that for the practicality of it. She took to wearing army clothes, enjoying the way it made people look at her with respect. She held her head high and wouldn't let anyone talk down to her. Behind her eyes was a deep, enduring coldness. She stopped feeling emotions after her family died. She said her heart died with them.

This Nancy was soft. Feminine. Her eyes lit up as soon as she saw him, sparkling innocently. She'd never seen a single person die.

“Steve!” She smiled, waving brightly. Next to her, Barb looked annoyed. The taller girl clutched her books tightly to her chest, fixing Steve with a glare.

And, oh yeah. Barb was alive. It blew his mind to see her there, visual proof that Steve was really in the past. And, by the look of Nancy's face, he was the only one. The Nancy he knew would never smile like that. Would absolutely never wear a long skirt that could be a liability in battle.

“I was just telling Barb about your ice cream story. I bet you could tell it better, though.” Nancy grinned obliviously up at him. His mind blanked. Ice cream story? What was she talking about? She seemed to notice his confusion and elaborated: “How you accidentally got the black cherry kind?”

Was this some kind of code? If it was, Steve couldn’t figure out what it was supposed to mean. “Um…” He tried, unsure of how to proceed.

“Don’t worry,” Barb said flatly. “I don’t care.”

“Barb!” Nancy scolded, shoving her with an elbow. “Are you okay, Steve? You look a little faint, and you smell stressed.”

“Sorry, Nance.” He sighed. He squeezed her shoulder, a purposefully ambiguous gesture. He tried to do the mental math. The paper said it was October 27th. He had his license, which meant he was at least sixteen, but definitely not seventeen yet, because he hadn't presented. So...he was pretty sure this version of himself was dating her, right? Or at least almost dating her. When did they get together again? “I think I just woke up on the wrong side of the bed, things have been feeling kind of…weird, this morning.”

“Oh!” She gasped excitedly, moving into his space to tap excitedly on his chest. “Maybe your presentation is coming soon! Are you feeling on edge? Aggressive? Do I smell extra good? ” Her tone went flirtatious and honey sweet, and that's when he realized it.

This Nancy actually had feelings for him.

Him and the original Nancy had history, sure, but the feelings were gone. Sure, there’d been something between them in those adrenaline-filled days before the gates opened. Steve had even bared his heart to her in the Upside Down, and he’d thought he’d seen a spark of something romantic in her eyes as she looked back at him. He’d told himself that maybe they could rekindle things. That maybe she could finally, finally love him back the way he’d loved her.

And then Jonathan Byers came back from California, and everything had kind of gone out the window. It was like nothing had even happened between the two of them. Nancy explained it a couple days later, after the gates opened but before Will's possession. It’s just too late for us. She’d said. I know you’ve changed. I do. I see it in the way you take care of those kids so well. I just―me and Jonathan have been together for almost two years, now. I can’t just throw that away for a relationship that never worked in the first place.

Jonathan had died shortly after, and Nancy had totally shut down. Wouldn’t even look at Steve, as if somehow it would be a betrayal of Jonathan’s spirit.

So to see her flirting with him like this? It was crazy. Something he’d never thought he’d be able to have again. He couldn’t help but be filled with a kind of heady wonder as he watched the way her lips curved upwards as she giggled, looking at him with love in her eyes.

He hadn’t ruined things yet.

“Maybe a little,” he offered her a wobbly smile, lying to hide how strange he was probably acting.

She squealed, giving him a hug. “Wow, I’m so excited for you! I know it’s been a long time coming.”

She felt so perfect in his arms. Even as short as he was, he still stood a couple inches taller, and his arms fit around her like they’d been made with the sole purpose of holding her. “Thanks, Nance. Yeah. I…I’m excited.”

Probably more excited than she realized. They held hands as they walked to class, and Steve marveled at the warmth of her hand in his. The way she looked at him with so much easy affection, none of that bad blood which built up between them over the course of the last couple of years. And, as he finally sat down in his first period class and listened to the teacher begin to lecture about the battle of Gettysburg, things finally sunk in.

Because, obviously, if he was in the past, he’d have the chance to save everyone. And of course he was ecstatic for that chance. But what he hadn’t realized until now was that saving lives didn’t have to be the only thing he changed.

He was still dating Nancy in this timeline. He hadn’t ruined things between them yet―she still liked him just as much as he liked her. And that didn’t have to stop. He’d pushed her away by being a shallow asshole and a bully the first time around, but he was a changed person, now! Things didn’t have to go that way.

The possibilities flashed through his brain like a film reel. If he never lost her in the first place―if he could be a good boyfriend from the beginning, instead of acting like an asshole―maybe then they wouldn’t have to break up. They could stay together, and then he could save the world, and Vecna wouldn’t send his army, and they could get married, and have kids, and―

Steve wasn’t one to be indecisive. In an instant, he made up his mind. He had two goals here. The first was obviously to save the world and make sure Vecna never opened the gates. The second was to make Nancy fall in love with him.

Chapter Text

. . .

The First 1983

On October 27th, 1983, Eddie Munson blinked up at the ceiling, face covered in tears, and he knew he couldn’t go on anymore. This was it; he’d reached his limit. He was either going to kill himself or finally cave and use his dad’s stash of heroin. He didn’t care about the consequences anymore.

The decision was an easy one. He couldn’t kill himself; Wayne was counting on him for the extra source of income right now. He didn’t need to die. He just needed the pain to be over. Needed some relief from this crushing exhaustion and loneliness that had become a constant companion. 

So, in the dark emptiness of the trailer, in the middle of the night, Eddie Munson used heroin for the first time.

There’s a lot people say about heroin; that it’s one of the most addictive drugs out there. That if you use it once, you’re hooked. That might or might not be true for everyone, but it was true for Eddie. Once he started, he was never able to stop.

. . .

Study hall was third period, which offered a much-needed opportunity for Steve to write stuff down and just think. First and second period had felt a bit like drinking water from a firehose, it was impossible to focus on everything he needed to. The seats around him had been filled with people who were now dead or missing. Old friends had tried to get his attention, share in inside jokes he no longer remembered. The teachers taught material he only vaguely could recall, but somehow still wanted him to be able to answer their questions, listen up, pay attention. Now, finally, it felt like he could breathe. He took a seat in the middle of the classroom, grabbing a paper and beginning to write. 

People slowly filtered into the chairs around him, but he didn’t bother to look up. They didn’t matter right now. The only thing that mattered was getting his thoughts straight so he could actually make a difference in this timeline. He carefully wrote down two columns. The first had the heading: Save the World. The second just said, Nancy , because he didn’t know how to describe it better than that.

His “Save The World” column was a repository for his cluttered thoughts about what he could possibly do to change history.

Actually writing things out, it was kind of difficult to figure out where to start. Like, obviously he wanted to save Barb. And he still needed to fight the demogorgon with Jonathan and Nancy. Those were the easy things. Then there was Mr. Hammond, who’d committed suicide around the same time Will had gone missing. His death hadn’t been related to the Upside Down or the demogorgon, but Steve still felt inclined to try to save him. If he could.

It felt a little bit daunting. How do you stop someone from committing suicide? Tell them to go to therapy? Give them a hug? Maybe just having a long heartfelt conversation would be enough? A long heartfelt conversation with someone you only barely knew? What was he supposed to say? Hi Mr. Hammond, do you remember me from the Young Tigers intramural football club? Ha ha, maybe not, but you were a really important mentor for me and got me into sports for the first time. No, I'm not still playing football. By the way, are you okay mentally? Do you want to open up to me, a middle schooler you used to coach?

…Whatever. He’d cross that bridge when he got to it.

Saving Barb would be a lot easier. All he had to do, really, was not hold a party at his house until the demogorgon was killed. Simple. If Barb never went to his pool party, she would never cut her hand, or be left outside on her own―unless she ended up cutting her hand at her own house and the demogorgon found her there? 

No, the likelihood of that had to be insanely small―besides, hadn’t Nancy said something about the demogorgon needing to stay within a certain radius? If he remembered correctly, the Hollands lived right next to the hospital. If the demogorgon was going to hunt down the scent of blood, surely it would go there instead? And if the hospital had sustained no attacks in the first go-around, it had to be out of the demogorgon’s range of attack.

The school wasn’t, though, he had to make sure to mark that down. Because hadn’t the demogorgon hunted the kids in the school at some point? Steve was pretty sure he remembered Dustin and the kids talking about how El had fought the demogorgon single-handedly in a science classroom…had that been the same night Steve had fought the monster? Before? After? He couldn’t place it in the timeline.

The big problem with changing anything 1983 was that Steve was there for so little of the chaos. He’d jumped in right in time to fight the demogorgon, presented as an alpha in the process, started his first rut, and went home. That was it. 

And, even though Dustin had definitely told him the kid’s side of the story a couple times―Will went missing, they went looking for him in the woods and found El, they got up to a bunch of shenanigans, the government came after them at some point, they ended up stationed at the school for some reason where El fought the demogorgon―that was pretty much the only thing Steve remembered. He didn't know the exact dates anything occurred, or any of the specifics. Nancy remained pretty tight-lipped about her own investigation, and he knew Hopper’d been deeply involved with finding Will, but the man gave no details about what had actually happened.

There wasn’t much he could do. He had to keep things simple. Straightforward. Don’t have a party that will ultimately lead to Barb’s death. Do try to get Benny Hammond to go to therapy.

Next year, there was a lot he could change. Probably. He’d try his best, at least. In the meantime, he only needed to focus on saving Barb and Benny Hammond. Oh yeah, and Will.

If he should save Will.

He probably should. It was probably wrong to leave the kid to his own devices in the Upside Down. The thing was―hadn’t everything else hinged on Will going missing in the first place? If he hadn’t been missing, maybe the kids wouldn’t have found El. Maybe Jonathan and Nancy wouldn’t have fought the demogorgon; Jonathan had taken that picture of it when he’d been looking for Will, after all. And maybe something else wouldn’t happen that needed to. It just felt like such a critical thing to upend.

Still. The kid was only twelve years old.

But what if someone else got kidnapped? As far as Steve knew, there wasn’t any particular reason Vecna’d targeted Will. It was just a matter of wrong place, wrong time. Vecna had needed someone who he could use to host his baby demodogs, whose body he could prepare to be used as his own vessel. That could be anybody. At least, that’s what Steve understood from what the others had told him. Who knew, maybe he was wrong. Maybe it did have to be Will, specifically.

A big issue he was starting to run into was that he had never really been included in the group’s strategy sessions, even the more recent ones. Everyone pretty much knew Steve wasn’t going to be a the brains of the operation, so they mainly just talked about things without him, and then told him where he should go. Usually that suited him just fine. But now, he couldn’t help but curse his own ignorance. Here he was, being given the chance of a lifetime to change the past, and he didn’t even know enough stuff about Vecna’s plans to be useful.

Because…let’s say he did save Will and then Vecna just kidnapped someone else? Someone who didn’t have a mom like Joyce to save them? It would’ve been so easy for any other mom to just give up and think their son was dead. There’d even been a fake body, for fuck’s sake. So maybe it would be better to have Will be the one who went missing, because then Steve could be sure he’d be saved in the end.

But what if it was bad that he was saved? If there was someone else who’d been kidnapped, and they just stayed in the Upside Down, maybe there wouldn’t have been the chance for the demodogs to be released, that second year. Because they’d been birthed from Will’s body, right? He definitely remembered Dustin talking to him about that. But, then again, no...if Vecna wanted to kick someone out of the Upside Down so they could birth his demodogs for him, he could just kick them out. So was Joyce saving Will irrelevant in the end? Or maybe it had saved them from something worse. Maybe if she hadn’t managed to save him, Vecna’s plans would have succeeded years earlier.

So should he save Will or not? Were things just doomed from the start? What had Vecna’s plans been from the very beginning, anyways? How could he find out how to stop him, if he didn’t even know where to start? And then there was the moral implications of it all. He felt like a terrible person for leaving Will to be kidnapped, but he felt just as terrible saving Will, knowing someone else could die in his place.

All of the unknowns were agonizing.

Besides, things had gone pretty well the first time around, all things considered. Even with an interdimensional monster prowling around, only one person had been killed. Which―Steve had seen what those things could do. The way they could slaughter droves of people if they really wanted to. They were lucky it just got Barb and no one else.

They were damn lucky El hadn’t been recaptured by the government, too. Imagine if they’d had to deal with all the mess of the demodogs and the mindflayer in 1984 without her. It would’ve been impossible. They all would have died. Also, imagine what the government would do to El if they got hold of her again? She’d never see the light of day again.

Quickly it was becoming clear that one wrong move could easily kill them all. Steve ran a stressed hand through his hair, continually trying and failing to make plans. His list looked pathetic.

Everything was just so tangled up. If he did one thing differently, the whole house of cards might come crashing down. He closed his notebook, cradling his head in his hands. He could feel a dull, stressful ache begin to form around his temples. What the hell was he supposed to do?

There was a tap on Steve’s shoulder. “Hey, man, are you okay?” A voice asked, and Steve’s entire world stopped because he recognized the voice. It was the voice of a dead man.

Sitting behind him was Eddie Munson, looking innocent and concerned and alive.

It was one thing to accept that he was in the past and quite another to have such mind-boggling proof of it. Sure, many people had died once the gates opened. Eddie wasn't the first dead man Steve had seen today. But so many people died after the gates opened that he almost became numb to it. Their deaths hardly seemed real. But Eddie--Eddie was different. His death felt so real Steve could sometimes still feel the phantom weight of his corpse as he'd carried it to the other side of the gate for a proper burial. He'd been there for the funeral. And now, Munson was sitting right behind him, looking concerned. Steve hadn’t even noticed him come in.

He looked both similar and different to the Eddie Steve had known. He looked younger, obviously. The bags under his eyes were less pronounced and he looked less gaunt in the cheeks. His hair was shorter now, too, frizzing out around his face in choppy layers. But his style was the same: he wore a leather jacket layered over a flannel, layered over a T-shirt that had “Fuck Ronald Reagan” hand-painted on it. His expressive brown eyes were the same as before, too. There was something about them that almost sparkled.

Steve hadn’t realized until this moment how much he’d missed those eyes.

Not that they’d ever really been friends. They hadn’t ever really talked before all the stuff with Vecna happened, and then they’d had only a couple of days to get to know each other. It was just―Eddie had this way about him. This larger-than-life kind of attitude that just made it so you couldn’t look away. And, somehow in the middle of that, he made you feel like you were the special one. Like he felt lucky to be able to be in your presence, even though he was obviously so much cooler than you could ever dream to be.

It was addicting.

“...E-Eddie?” He asked, trying not to stutter and likely failing. Even with his weakened senses, he could smell the way Eddie’s alpha pheromones wafted over, radiating concern and comfort. Steve couldn’t help but feel a bit touched by the gesture¹.

“Is something wrong?” Eddie asked again, leaning in and letting his scent deepen. It smelled good to Steve’s unpresented nose. Much better than it had when they’d both been alphas². He breathed the sandalwood and vanilla and used it to steady himself.

It was 1983. Steve had three years to make sure Eddie didn’t die.

“I’m fine.” Steve assured, forcing a neutral tone. Had they really had study hall together junior year? Steve couldn’t remember the other alpha there at all. “Just worried about a…test. Mrs. O’Donnell, ” he lied.

“Oh, yeah. She’s a total bitch.” Eddie agreed eagerly, leaning in even more. “Her tests suck. I can help you study, if you want. I’m kinda ass at math, but I can, like, I don’t know. I could help you make flashcards or something.”

“How ‘bout you hop off Harrington’s dick, freak?” Tommy spoke up, and for the first time Steve realized he was in this class too. Huh? When did he get there? Tommy smiled at Eddie, his expression full of malice. “He’s not gonna fuck you.”

“Jesus, Tommy!” Steve kicked Tommy’s chair. Where was this level of hostility even coming from? “He was just being nice. Stop being such a dick.”

He glanced over at Eddie, who’d completely shrunken in on himself. Huh. Steve had half-expected him to make some kind of witty comeback, but the alpha just sat there looking down at the desk, trying not to bring any attention to himself. Weird. Steve hadn’t known Eddie particularly well, but he remembered him as someone who didn’t take crap from anyone. Why was he letting Tommy walk all over him like this?

Tommy was still grinning. “What? Somebody’s gotta protect your ass-virginity.” He cackled, and a handful of their nearby classmates laughed.

“My ass-virginity, Tommy? Really?” Steve scoffed. “Do better.”

“You do better.” Tommy shot back childishly, and…yeah. Steve knew he probably shouldn’t even try to keep things civil between them. Tommy was a grade-A shitbag, and their fight back in junior year had been catastrophically ugly. After they’d ended their friendship, Tommy had made it his personal mission to spread as many rumors about Steve as he could.

He definitely wasn’t the type of person Steve should try to keep as a friend.

It was just…they’d grown up together. Once upon a time, they’d been best friends. They’d both been kind of awkward children: Tommy had been the funny, chubby beta who liked football too much, and Steve had been the smallest kid in the grade and so hyperactive that most kids wrote him off as an annoying chipmunk. Tommy’d been one of the only ones to tolerate Steve’s spazzy moments, and the only one to match his hyper energy on the playground. They were inseparable all through elementary and middle school.

Tommy had always taken it upon himself to make Steve laugh. When they were kids, that was easy, but then time passed. Things had picked up at his mom's work halfway through their freshman year, and then at the beginning of sophomore year his dad’s affair had come to light, and―it was just so easy to be angry all the time. He got aloof, and the only things that made him laugh anymore were the things that made him uncomfortable. Steve had a tendency to laugh when he felt awkward about something, an automatic response to break up the tension.

So Tommy found his home in shock-value, mean-ass humor, and Steve hadn’t even noticed how bad it got until that fight with Jonathan Byers. Before then, he’d just allowed it. Laughed along and acted like everything was normal.

So of course Tommy had been shocked and angry when Steve had suddenly changed it up and started acting holier-than-thou. And of course he’d been furious when Steve had suddenly dropped him as a friend, and obviously he’d lash out in response. It all made sense in Steve’s mind. In the end of the day, it was Steve’s fault they’d had their falling out like they did.

Steve couldn’t help but think that maybe if he did things differently this time, he might be able to fix Tommy. Well. Maybe not fix him, per se. But maybe if Steve just called him out in little ways then Tommy would start taking the hint. Maybe the guy would stop making jokes that weren’t okay, and maybe Steve could keep him as a friend. And then he wouldn’t have to go into senior year with his only close friends being his girlfriend and the guy who was going to steal his girl.

“Sorry about him.” Steve made sure to say to Eddie, who was now just doodling in his notebook, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. “Please just ignore him, he’s not being serious.”

“Sure.” Eddie said, still doodling. Steve felt bad, but at that point he’d already called Tommy out on his behavior and apologized to Eddie. It wasn’t like there was anything else he could do. Maybe if he’d actually had a test he was struggling with, he might offer an olive branch and take Eddie up on his offer to study together. But there was no test, so he couldn’t do that. Without having anything else to say, he just turned around in his seat again.

He wished Robin was there. She would know what to do, both about the whole time travel thing, and about Tommy. She was always good at telling Steve when he was doing something stupid, and when he was actually onto something. But she wasn’t there, so Steve just pretended to study for the rest of class.

He looked down at the columns on his paper. Save the World. Nancy. After careful consideration, he added a third column to the list: Eddie Munson.

Under the column he wrote two things:

1986―Save Eddie’s life

1983―Find out why he’s acting so weird.

___________________

Steve got a glimpse of Robin in the lunchroom cafeteria. She looked tiny, sitting there with her hair pulled back and too-big ears sticking out in a way that made her look even younger. She wouldn’t present for another two years―she’d presented as an alpha a day after the Starcourt crisis. Steve smiled at the memory of her voice as she told him the news, the tired relief in her tone: “Hey buddy, you know how I said I liked women and I was totally an abomination or whatever? Turns out I was wrong. I was just an alpha this whole time³ . Wow. Easy. All my little lesbian dreams came true.”

She was sitting with all the band kids who were also in the Christian Fellowship club, and by the looks of her long blonde hair and feminine-but-modest clothing, she was still trying her best to fit into her church’s standards and be the perfect omega girl⁴ . She looked so tiny sitting there. She’d never been short, but she had a gangliness about her that made him realize, with sudden clarity, that she’d skipped a grade in middle school, so she was only fourteen. Younger than any of the kids had been before he went back in time.

As much as he missed his friend, he couldn’t help but distance himself from this younger version of her. There was this illogical  worry that as soon as he started talking with her, she’d somehow end up pulled along into his supernatural mess. 

Maybe he’d wait a year. Maybe if he saw her next fall, she’d look more similar to the Robin he knew, and he wouldn’t feel so weird about approaching her.

__________________________

He ended up sharing a table with Nancy, Tommy, Carol, and a couple of guys from the school football team: Dan Shelter, Simon McKinney, and Arnie Miller. It was strange to see the old group back together again. He hadn’t seen most of them since before the earthquakes happened and the town shut down. There were memories attached to each of them which now  had never happened.

Arnie Miller was the one who was the least on Steve’s radar. With red hair and a face full of freckles, people would often call him “Archie,” because of his resemblance to the cartoon. He’d always get really angry about it, which only made people want to do it more. As far as Steve remembered, the guy had gotten a girl pregnant right after graduation, and they’d moved out of state a couple months later.

Of course, Dan Shelter was Vickie’s ex-boyfriend. Steve and Vickie had very little in common, so often their long stakeouts together would consist of her talking about all of their terrible dating stories―Vickie loved to rant about how awful of a boyfriend Dan had been. Her stories were endless: how he’d wanted an open relationship, how he’d always insisted she pay for herself, how he’d scent-claimed⁵ her without her permission. All of the classic alpha knothead moves. And even though this Dan hadn’t even met Vickie yet, Steve still couldn’t look at the guy the same.

Simon Mckinney was another one who was hard to look in the eye. He was a tall and attractive alpha, with a strong jaw and big, natural hair that he secured with a headband. The McKinneys were a big family, and Simon, the oldest, had always been protective of all his younger siblings. He’d been at Notre Dame when his brother Patrick had been killed by Vecna, and he’d immediately come home, arriving in town just before the earthquakes struck. He’d been killed by a demogorgon within the first month.

More deaths Steve wanted to prevent.

“Apple Pie,” Simon greeted as he sat next to Steve, splitting the soft pretzel he’d gotten and placing half onto Steve’s tray.

Steve couldn’t help but grin affectionately at the familiar nickname. “Caramel Drizzle, ” he smiled, his nickname for Simon coming back easily. He handed over one of his jello cups, remembering their familiar routine.

“Seems like you’re feeling better.” Simon said, ruffling Steve’s hair and then allowing his hand to rest on Steve’s shoulder. “I tried to say hi to you in History, but you seemed out of it. You didn’t even take notes.”

“Yeah, sorry.” Steve answered. “Woke up on the wrong side of the bed or something, I was really out of it.”

“He might be presenting soon.” Nancy interjected excitedly from where she sat across from Steve. “He’s showing all the signs.”

“Oh? Is my little Apple Pie finally presenting as an omega?” Simon joked, and Steve pushed him.

“Shut up, asshole.” Before Steve had finally presented in his junior year, it was a common thing for his friends to joke that he’d present as an omega⁶. It was obviously a joke, but when he’d been younger, Steve had been terrified of the prospect. He’d always get sensitive about the subject, which only made people joke about it more.

“You’d make such a good omega, though!” Tommy cackled. “You definitely nag enough to be one.”

Steve opened his mouth to argue, but stopped when Simon’s hand clenched against his shoulder, accidentally brushing up against his scent-glands. Steve’s head whipped back towards the alpha, but the guy didn’t seem to notice anything was amiss.

“I took notes for you, if you want them.” Simon changed the subject with an easy smile. “I noticed you didn’t take any, today.”

Simon finally released him, and Steve touched his neck as subtly as possible. It tingled, like even Steve’s skin was aware it had been touched somewhere intimate. But, no, it was just an accident. Obviously it was an accident. Guys didn’t randomly scent-mark other guys⁷.

“I took notes, too!” Arnie Miller piped up. “You could borrow both of them. Who knows, maybe he missed something. He looked pretty distracted this morning.”

The way he said ‘distracted,’ it seemed like he had some kind of meaning behind it, but Steve had no idea what it could be. Simon picked up on the passive aggression, and shot the other guy a glare. “I paid attention fine.”

“I can help you study!” Dan Shelter offered, leaning over the table with his whole body so Steve could hear. “You’re taking US History, right? I took that last year, I can totally help you out―”

“If he’s going to study with someone, he should study with someone currently taking the class.” Arnie complained. “Steve, I’ve got a B+, so―”

“I’ve got an A.” Simon interrupted confidently, and Arnie squinted at him. “I can help him study.”

“No you do not.”

“Yes I do.” Simon angled his chin upwards and bared the tiniest hint of teeth.

Steve couldn’t help but be taken aback by the sudden helpfulness from all his friends. He definitely appreciated the help, and he’d probably take them up on their offers (he remembered not one single word of anything he’d learned in that class, so he’d need all the help he could get), but it felt a little weird just how intense everyone was being. Had they really been like this the first time around? He looked at Tommy and Nancy’s faces, trying to gauge their reaction. Nancy looked a little weirded out, but Tommy looked completely unfazed by it.

“Guess you’ve never seen the King Steve effect in action, eh, Wheeler?” He chuckled at Nancy’s expression.

“The King Steve effect?” She asked, a sarcastic curve to her mouth.

“I’m not really sure what it is, either.” Steve commiserated, uncomfortable with all the sudden attention.

“Come on, don’t be humble.” Tommy grinned leaning forward to whisper, “It’s his natural alpha aura. They’ll be worshiping him once he actually presents.”

Oh yeah. Holy hell, he'd almost forgotten about that. The memory of his and Tommy's obnoxious theories made him want to sink into the floor. The King Steve effect was something they'd come up with. See, usually kids tended not to really get invited to any parties or anything until after they presented, but Steve had been a rare case where he’d risen to popularity long before his presentation. He and Tommy had developed this theory that it was because Steve’s alpha aura was especially strong or something, and were convinced they’d actually rule the school like gods once he presented.

He was such a snot-nosed brat. Well, karma hit him like a truck in the end. Steve’s presentation happened the same weekend he’d had a falling out with Tommy and lost a fight to Jonathan Byers. So, instead of becoming more popular, he’d come back to school to everyone avoiding him like he had the plague. He remembered being so confused at the time. It wasn’t like nobody’d ever lost a fight to a loser before! Especially the next year, Eddie Munson beat up a ton of popular guys and they never got treated like they had the plague.

For some reason, he’d come back from that weekend and all his friends suddenly skittered away at the sight of him, looking haunted. Simon was the worst. He’d probably been Steve’s best friend after Tommy before he’d presented, but afterwards, the alpha wouldn’t even look at him. 

Steve couldn’t help but wonder if he’d done something wrong, but he couldn’t think of anything that Simon would care about. He always wondered if Tommy might’ve spread a rumor about him, but he never heard anything. It was honestly one of the biggest disappointments of that year. He’d been so convinced he’d present and be some kind of god amongst men, but instead he’d ended up losing every friendship he’d had.

“I wouldn’t be so sure.” Steve rolled his eyes, allowing the conversation to naturally flow to other things as he zoned out.

If he didn’t fight Jonathan Byers at all, and he never lost Tommy as a friend…would things be different? Would Steve come back to school and be welcomed with open arms?

He couldn’t lie, the image was a nice one. He liked to think he was a better person now. That he didn't care so much about popularity. But it still hurt to lose so many of his closest friends, that first time around. These were people he’d made memories with, gone to parties with, confided in. And then suddenly they were just…gone. And nobody ever really gave him a reason. It was more painful than he wanted to admit.

Of course, restoring my popularity is low on my list of priorities, he thought to himself, pretending to listen as Nancy told some story about her family. The big things were saving lives and figuring out how to foil Vecna’s plans.

Not that he’d ever really known Vecna’s plans. 

Jesus fucking Christ, he was probably the absolute worst person who could’ve jumped back in time. If it was Hopper, boom. Vecna would already be dead by now. Hopper was the whole package―whip-smart, strong, a pillar of the community, a crime fighter. He’d get popped back in time and be like “Oh, nice! This is my chance!” And in an instant, Hawkins Lab would be up in flames, El would be free, The Upside Down would be toast. But instead, it was Steve stuck in the past, and he still hadn’t even decided if it was a good idea or not to save Will.

The issue with changing the past, Steve decided, was that he really didn’t know anything about time travel. He didn’t know if there was some kind of fate where events were set in stone and nothing he could do would change them, or if it was like Back to the Future, where one tiny event might change everything and might even make someone disappear. He was inclined to hope the future was changeable, and that he wasn’t just going to be forced to watch things play out exactly the same as before, but there was no real way to tell.

He needed to find some kind of a resource on the subject. Do the research that everyone always excluded Steve from because he was too dumb. He just didn’t know where to start.

“My brother is, like, a total dweeb. Yours actually sounds cute, mine just spends all his time in the basement playing some fantasy game.” Nancy said to Simon in response to a story he’d been telling, and Steve felt like a lightbulb had just gone on above his head.

That was it! Dungeons and Demons! Any single time something supernatural happened, the kids had some kind of an answer in that board game of theirs. Crazy monster terrorizing the town? It was the demogorgon, a monster they knew well from their game. Something was possessing Will? Oh, it was the Mind-Flayer. Easy. People were getting their bones crushed by some invisible force? It had to be Vecna.

Whatever kind of hoodoo magic was in those books held the key to figuring out his situation, Steve was sure of it. And, Steve thought later as he looked at the club bulletin board, I know exactly where to find them.

________________________________

Hellfire club wasn’t officially called that yet. The bulletin called it “Dungeons and Dragons club,” and told Steve that the group met in the school’s prop room in the basement of the school. The room was large, full of clutter, and stank faintly of mildew and mothballs. A table and chair sat at the very center of it, with various props scattered around it.

Eddie sat curled up on a throne-like chair at the very head of the table, scribbling away at a notebook. His fantasy textbooks were piled precariously around him, and Steve couldn’t help but think the other boy looked eye-catching, sitting there. He looked almost like some kind of fantasy wizard, with his hair lit up yellow in the dim light of the room, the shadows making his cheekbones look extra defined.

He didn’t have much time to look. Steve wasn’t used to the weight of the door, and when he released it, it slammed closed with a loud bang. Eddie scrambled to his feet, startled. 

“Oh, uh, I’m in here!” Eddie stammered, waving his hands wildly as if to fend off some kind of attack.

Steve looked around, confused. “Yeah, I know you’re in here, Munson, that’s the whole reason I’m here.” When Eddie blanched at his words, Steve couldn’t help but ask: “Why else would I be here?”

“Thought you were looking for a quick make-out spot.” Eddie said, sitting back down. He was obviously relieved Steve hadn’t brought anyone else, but he still looked like he was waiting for a fight. “Listen, I know what Tommy Hagan’s saying about me, but it’s not true―”

“I know it’s not true.” Steve said, interrupting wherever that train of thought was going. He walked over to the chair closest to Eddie’s. “Is this spot taken?”

There weren’t any other kids here yet, and Steve inwardly thanked whatever god was out there that he’d come early enough to miss them. Nerds were always so damn dramatic. Steve would try to talk to them and they’d start up this “Oh, the king speaks!” nonsense, and he wasn’t ready to deal with that.

“No.” Eddie stared at him through wide eyes, like Steve was some kind of feral animal that might bite him at any moment.

“Good.” Steve said, getting comfortable. Eddie was still radiating nervous energy, so Steve moved instinctively to calm him. He leaned forward, baring his wrist for the alpha to sniff⁸. 

Eddie’s instincts worked immediately, and he leaned forward to smell it, holding Steve’s arm steady with his hands. Steve flushed as Eddie’s nose met his wrist and he realized the gesture was probably too personal. The alpha’s breath felt hot on his skin, and Steve's heart beat heavy in his chest as their eyes met. Eddie’s brown eyes burned. Steve could feel the other man’s hint of stubble as it brushed up against his hand. He gulped.

The contact seemed to break them both from their haze, and Eddie released him. “You, um. That’s―you shouldn’t do that with just anyone.” He finished gruffly, looking anywhere but at Steve.

“Sorry, I―” Steve cut himself off. How was he supposed to explain himself? It wasn’t like he could tell Eddie he’d been in what was essentially an active war zone for the past six months. Clearing his throat, he opted to change the subject instead. “Anyways. I’m here for your dragon books.”

“Huh?” Eddie looked at Steve like he’d grown another head, and Steve pulled out the flier he’d pulled off the bulletin, pulling a strand of hair behind an ear as he tried to calm his beating heart and pretend like everything was normal and he hadn’t just done something completely socially unacceptable.

“Dungeons and Dragons?” Steve asked, waving it in front of Eddie’s surprised face. “Is the date wrong on here? Does it not meet today?”

Because, Steve confirmed with a glance at his watch, it was now officially time for the club to start, and still no one had arrived. He looked at the flyer again to confirm.

“Why do you have that?” Eddie asked, dodging the question. “Wait, did you pull that off the bulletin board?”

“I―anyways, you didn’t answer the question.” Steve blushed, because he’d forgotten that was a weird thing to do. After the world ended, people didn’t really care to preserve any spaces, so it was common to just scavenge whatever you wanted.

“You couldn’t just leave it there?” Eddie pressed, and Steve bit his lip, searching for a good answer. It wasn’t like he could just tell the truth: Oh, sorry. I found your drawings really endearing and I wanted to keep them to show to my friend from the future who’s still mourning your death. I wasn’t thinking about the details.

“I’ll put it back!” He tried, defensive. He was lying. There was no way he was going to put it back on the bulletin board. It was his, now. And even though this was the past, and Eddie was alive, and there wasn’t a mourning Dustin who’d cry at the sight of this paper―it still felt like something too precious to give up.

“Whatever.” Eddie waved a dismissive hand, dropping the issue. “Why do you want to look at my dungeons and dragons books? You can’t tell me King Steve wants to play.”

“I don’t.” Steve answered evenly. “I’m not trying to interrupt your game or anything, I just wanted to sit over there and read the books and stuff while you guys played. You won’t even know I’m here.” He glanced at the clock. “Speaking of, your group is really late. Does it not meet on Thursdays? Because you should really change that on the flyer if―”

“There is no group.” Eddie said, bristling. “I’m the only one here.”

“What the fuck?” Steve asked. “What about Jeff and Gareth?” He didn’t know the guys personally, but they’d been featured enough in Dustin and Mike’s that he could remember their names.

“Who?” Eddie looked confused.

“I don’t know! I thought they played with you.” Steve said, scrambling his hair up in his hands. This wasn’t going according to plan. Why were things so different from what he remembered? “What the hell happened to all your friends?”

Eddie’s shoulders went up to his ears. “I don’t have friends. Thanks for rubbing it in.”

And that―that really threw Steve for a loop. He’d been thinking for awhile that things were weird, but for the first time he wondered if someone might’ve changed the past before Steve got a chance to. Sure, Eddie had never been popular, but he definitely had friends. His D&D group basically worshiped him. He hadn’t remembered Eddie, like, at all in school, but….Steve remembered the long list of friends they’d had to work through when they were trying to search for him in ‘86. The guy definitely had friends. More than Steve did, probably. What happened?

Steve’s memory flicked back to the short time he’d known Eddie while he’d been alive. His easy smile, the confidence he had in himself and his weirdness. Steve frowned, sizing up the current Eddie, who seemed twitchy and self-conscious. Had he been body-snatched? 

“Bullshit.” He finally said, knowing he was taking too long to respond.

“What, do you want me to convince you?” Eddie waved wildly around the room. “The evidence is staring you right in the face, Harrington.”

“Why the fuck are you being so weird?” Steve demanded to know. “You’re acting like you’re some kind of social pariah.”

Eddie actually laughed at that, loud and bitter. “I don’t know what you want from me, Harrington. I’m not going to argue with you about how much of a loser I am. I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but I’m not in the mood. Just fuck off.”

“I’m not playing any game!” Steve insisted. “I just want to borrow your books!”

“Fine! Is it going to get you to shut up?” Eddie asked, and Steve nodded, making grabby hands at the stack of manuals sitting at the table. “Here you go. Now leave me be.”

He said that, but Steve wasn’t about to bring the books home with him. They belonged to Eddie, and he really didn’t want to lose them or accidentally spill something on them or something. So instead, Steve got comfortable in his seat, opened up to the table of contents of the first book, and looked for time travel.

Eddie eyed him suspiciously, but made no comment. Eventually, when it seemed like Steve was in here for the long haul, his posture eased. He settled back into his throne, bringing his feet up so he was cross legged, and went back to writing in his notebook.

They sat in silence, the only sound between them being Eddie’s frantic scribbling and hum of the air conditioning. Steve tried to pay attention to his book, but it was difficult. The content was pretty dry, and reading had never been Steve’s strong suit. He found his eyes catching on various things in the room―the costumes hanging up in one corner, an old cardboard tree, a trash bag full of feather boas. Too often, his eyes landed on Eddie. On the halo of frizz fluffed up around his face, the way his full lips stretched as he chewed on the end of a pen.

Eddie’s eyes glanced up, and Steve couldn’t help but feel caught, even though he’d been doing nothing wrong. His eyes shot back to the book, and he hunched his shoulders ever so slightly, forcing himself to focus on the words on the page. He needed to focus, here. This was important.

Thirty minutes later, Steve groaned, giving up and slamming his head on the table. “There’s nothing in here!” This was all just a huge waste of time. There wasn’t a single thing of use in these stupid fantasy textbooks.

“What are you looking for?” Eddie asked. His tension had died down a lot by now. It seemed he’d finally started to believe Steve wasn’t just playing some elaborate prank.

“I wanted information on time travel, but the closest thing I can get is this weird paragraph about how a turn is ten minutes or something. Listen to how confusing this is. ‘A turn is 10 minutes, a round 1 minute, and a segment 6 seconds.’ What the hell does that even mean? And then this one―” Steve pulled out the other book he’d begun to read. “--just has a bunch of monsters in it, but they’re not even divided into categories so I just gotta read every one! And none of them have even mentioned time travel so far.”

“What do you need to learn about time travel for?”

Steve hesitated, not sure of what lie to use. Eventually he just shrugged. “I’m curious about it, like how it works and stuff.”

“And you thought D&D manuals were the way to go?”

“They seem to have the answer to all the fantasy shit.” Steve answered defensively. “And time travel is fantasy shit, so I just thought I’d read up on what it had to say.”

“Time travel doesn’t really work too well in D&D.” Eddie explained patiently, bringing his books back around to where he sat. “It’s a fun concept, but when you’re actually playing it out in a game, people usually would just want to skip to the good part of whatever they want to change. But the fun part of the whole time travel trope is that people can change things by mistake―it adds this element of suspense that makes it interesting. And in order to change things by mistake, you need to act them all out again word for word. Which can get kinda tedious. It works a lot better in movies and books than in the game.”

This was what Steve needed! An expert in the field. He leaned forward in his seat, knees bumping into Eddie’s. “So that’s pretty likely? Changing things by mistake?”

“Yeah.” Eddie nodded thoughtfully. “It’s this scientific concept―there’s this great short story by Ray Bradbury that illustrates it. Basically they call it the butterfly effect. Like, a butterfly flaps their wings and maybe the wind could travel far enough to cause a tornado, and if they flap their wings a little differently it doesn’t. So even little things can cause huge ripples. And it’s pretty much physically impossible to do everything the same if you travel back in time. So there end up being these unwanted consequences.”

“How do you stop them?”

“You don’t.” Eddie shrugged nonchalantly and Steve wanted to throttle him. “That’s why it’s always a bad idea to go back in time.”

“But when Marty McFly did it, his life got better.” Steve said, forgetting for a second that Back to The Future hadn’t come out yet.

“That’s a book you read or something? Sure, that’s the hope in fiction. That you could change the world for the better. But ultimately it’s pretty dangerous to play around with.”

“So no fate?” Steve asked. “There’s not, like, pre-ordained events that will happen no matter how hard you try to stop them?”

“I don’t think so.” Eddie answered. “But I guess it’s just more of an interesting question than anything. The butterfly effect overvalues choice, and fate undervalues it. It’s kind of esoteric, though. We’ll never really know because nobody’s ever actually going to be able to time travel.”

“How do you know?”

“That’s just the way of the world. You can travel forward in time, but you can never travel back. It’s part of what makes it so special to be human, I think. You only get one chance, so it’s up to you not to screw it up.”

Steve was silent as he processed the new information. He wrote 'not human?' in his little notebook. “Huh. You’re smarter than I gave you credit for, Munson.” He said, packing up his things to go. “Thanks. I really appreciate you answering my questions. I…do you think I can come to you again? If I need to?”

Eddie shrugged, looking uncomfortable. “Sure. Don’t know why you’d need to, though.”

It was hardly a glowing eagerness to help. Everything about his tone said that he’d rather Steve never spoke to him again. Still, as Steve slung his bag over his shoulder and made his way out of the little prop room, he caught a glimpse at Eddie smiling down at his papers.

1. “Like offering a tissue or holding a door open, broadcasting comforting pheromones when someone is upset is seen as a thoughtful gesture among a/o people. Alphas and Omegas utilize a wide range of pheromonal communication: stress, comfort, rage, possessiveness, fear, sadness, and protection can all be expressed through scent. As betas, this unseen communication can often seem confusing, as we lack the ability to perceive it.” ―A Beta’s Guide to Alphas and Omegas, Chapter 11: Pack Dynamics and Public Behavior. return to text

2. “One barrier to friendships between alphas is that their pheromones typically initially repel one another, causing feelings of aggression and competition (See Chapter 8 for evolutionary explanations). Over time, as alphas recognize one another as pack, these smells will become more neutral, but it’s rare that alphas (especially alpha men) work to overcome these negative initial impressions.” ―A Beta’s Guide to Alphas and Omegas, Chapter 15: Love and Friendship Between Alphas and Omegas. return to text

3. “Same-sex pairings are common among alphas and omegas. For a/o people, the most important thing is secondary-gender compatibility. As an example, in a/o society it is seen as more taboo for an alpha man and alpha woman to copulate than an alpha man and omega man, although both pairings are seen as socially acceptable. In fact, the only truly taboo pairings in a/o society are those where both primary and secondary gender are the same.” ―A Beta’s Guide to Alphas and Omegas, Chapter 15: Love and Friendship between Alphas and Omegas. return to text

4. “85% of a/o men will present as alphas, and the same percent of a/o women will present as omegas. As such, even before presentation, society often treats boys like little alphas and girls as little omegas. This can make presenting as the opposite extremely emotionally taxing on individuals.” ―A Beta’s Guide to Alphas and Omegas, Chapter 3: Developmental Milestones. return to text

5. “Scent-marking and scent-claiming are similar, often confused, phenomena. Both are done between people who are in a romantic relationship, and both have the intention of keeping other eligible alphas away. However, scent-claiming is much more involved than the typical scent-marking, which (as discussed earlier in the chapter) involves only simple touching to scent glands. Scent claiming involves a special secretion of fluid that comes from the alpha’s mouth. When the fluid is administered to an omega’s neck, it prevents any other alpha from being able to administer a mating bite, as we learned in Chapter 5. As such, scent-claiming is an incredibly intimate practice.” ―A Beta’s Guide to Alphas and Omegas, Chapter 15: Love and Friendship between Alphas and Omegas.

“Rather than just a bite, a mating bond includes a very real chemical reaction. When an alpha wishes to administer a Bite, a chemical compound is secreted in their mouth. When this chemical meets the reactant chemicals found within an omega’s mating patch, a bond is formed…if there are already mating chemicals from another alpha on the omega’s skin when a bite is made, the chemicals will cancel out and no mating bond will be able to be formed.” ―A Beta’s Guide to Alphas and Omegas, Chapter 5: Mating Bonds. return to text

6. “Similar to how beta boys might taunt a friend that he “fights like a girl”, a common taunt between unpresented a/o boys is that they will present as an omega. Another example of why emotional distress among male omegas during their first heat is so common.” ―A Beta’s Guide to Alphas and Omegas, Chapter 3: Developmental Milestones. return to text

7. “Scent-marking involves one touching a person’s sensitive mating patch and leaving your scent there as a possessive gesture to ward off other alphas or omegas. It is a romantic gesture and never done without romantic interest.” ―A Beta’s Guide to Alphas and Omegas, Chapter 11: Pack Dynamics and Public Behavior

“To review: Scenting happens between pack-members and friends and involves rubbing scent glands together (usually at the face or arms). Scent-marking happens between people romantically interested in one another and involves touching someone’s mating patch. Scent-claiming happens within an extremely intimate relationship and involves licking one’s mating patch to prevent a mating bite from holding.” ―A Beta’s Guide to Alphas and Omegas, Chapter 15: Love and Friendship Between Alphas and Omegas. return to text

8. “Baring of a sensitive body part to another person is one of the hallmarks of a/o intimate communication. There are three different forms this might take. The most intimate is to bare one’s thighs in something called “presenting”. Though it bears the same name, this is different than the developmental stage, and involves an omega baring their thighs and birthing channel to an alpha. Socially, this is seen as an extreme act of submission and is only done by omegas. Baring the neck is almost as intimate, as it reveals one’s jugular and their mating patch―both very vulnerable parts of the body. This can be done by either an alpha or omega, but is more commonly done by omegas…. The last form is the baring of the wrist. Exposing important arteries and scent glands, this communicates openness, trust, and a hint of submission. While done by both omegas and alphas, it is usually only done with the closest members within one’s pack, who the person trusts the most (unless one is in a survival situation, where this instinctual communication would be more common).” ―A Beta’s Guide to Alphas and Omegas, Chapter 6: Instincts and Traumatic Conditions. return to text

Chapter Text

. . .

The First 1983

Nancy and Steve's second date happened the day before Halloween. It was a Sunday night, and Steve had insisted on celebrating the holiday in their own, special way, since they wouldn't actually be able to be together Halloween night. They dressed up in costume--him as a vampire, her as cat-woman--and explored the old Creel house together. The place was spooky at night, and the aging wood creaked beneath their feet. Nancy Wheeler loved every second of it. Loved the adrenaline rush that came from being somewhere forbidden. Loved it when they saw car lights pass by and had to duck for cover. Loved the feeling of Steve Harrington's warm hand in her own.

At one point, a rat skittered by her foot and she yelped, jumping into Steve's arms for protection. He held her steady, laughing and smoothing her hair under his hands. She could feel the soft fabric of his shirt, the warmth of his chest against her own, and she looked into his eyes. It was dark, but the moonlight lit him up just enough that she could make out the shadow of his hair, mussed from their adventures.

Ah, she thought, this must be love.

. . .

When study hall came around the next day, Steve couldn’t help but be excited to see Eddie again. After their little Dungeons and Dragons study session, he figured they were probably friends, or at least moving in that direction. The thought was probably a little more thrilling than it should’ve been. 

He’d wanted to be Eddie’s friend since their very first real conversation, back in March while they were trekking through the Upside Down. The Upside Down had been cold and damp, and Steve wrapped Eddie’s vest around himself for warmth, trying to put on a brave face and failing. That was the thing about being an alpha, especially an alpha male―you always had to be the strong one. The one who held it together. Steve had always taken the role a bit more seriously than most, so even when there were two other alphas there and injuries in his sides, he still didn’t let himself relax and let someone else take the lead. It just wasn’t in his nature.

Eddie’d looked kind of like a drowned rat. He was about Steve’s height, but his scrawniness made him seem shorter. He kept leaning into Steve’s space, trying to start a conversation; but Steve, at the time, hadn’t really wanted to talk. His nerves were still too frayed from the demobat attack and smelling another alpha near him only made it worse⁹. Plus, Steve had (at that point) definitely fallen into the classic alpha competitiveness¹⁰. He’d felt for months that Eddie was an outsider trying to nose into his territory and steal his pack from under his nose. Steve would be damned if he just let him do it without any kind of complaint.

But then they’d actually spoken, and Steve’s entire view of the other man flipped on its head. Eddie was the opposite of what he’d expected him to be. There was no competitiveness at all.  If anything, Eddie did his best to build Steve up in any way he could. It was refreshing, honestly. Sweet, too, in its own way. Something about the way Eddie treated him reminded him of the alpha friends he’d grown up with. Maybe it was the way he looked at him like he was special, or his touchiness, or the ready praise…something just felt familiar and right  in a way that made Steve’s chest ache with longing.

Steve hadn’t really responded to Eddie’s overtures of friendship in the moment. Sure, Steve considered himself extroverted, but he was slow to warm up to new people. He liked having his “inner circle” and nobody else¹¹. So he stayed mostly silent and spent the whole conversation feeling vaguely amazed.  He’s so much nicer than I thought he’d be,  his brain went,  Wow, and he’s funny? And he’s not fighting me for Nancy? Seriously? Is this guy real? Usually, alphas who are this handsome are way bigger assholes than this. Why does he keep putting himself down?

He never got the chance to say his thoughts aloud. In the moment he'd kept his thoughts to himself, thinking he’d be able to voice them after all the chaos was over; when they actually had a chance to become friends. But then, Eddie’d been killed by the demobats and Steve never got a chance to tell him how impressed he’d been. All he’d been left with were grieving children and a host of “what could have been’s”. 

But Steve had a second chance, now. He could do things differently. Actually be Eddie’s friend in a way that mattered.

It would be so nice to be able to have a friend he could trust. Someone close to his age. Someone who Steve knew wouldn’t judge him if he fell from popularity, like the rest of his current friend group. Someone who could handle the Upside Down if it came at him. Someone who could be nice, and kind, and friendly, and funny. Imagining the possibilities made his skin buzz with excitement. He stayed up late last night just wiggling his toes under his sheets and picturing what it would be like in his mind. 

They could do all the alpha things together that Steve had never been able to do before, since he’d lost all his alpha friends after presenting. He’d tried to do some of them with Robin, but it just wasn’t the same. But with Eddie…they could have sleepovers together and talk until it was way too late. They could go on hikes together, work out together, and play sports all day long¹². They could go to a club together and dance until the night turned into morning, hyping each other up when omegas got close. They could wrestle on the grass under the full moon or spend ruts together watching porn and jacking off on the couch¹³. It would be awesome. 

By the time third period came around, and Steve was almost vibrating in his chair. He got there early, making sure to take the exact same seat as before, leaving the spot behind him open for Eddie. They could talk a bit more about time travel, Eddie might say something about D&D and Steve could make a joke about him being a nerd: it would be perfect.

But when Eddie entered the room, something immediately seemed to be wrong. The alpha ignored Steve’s wave, hunching over himself as he stormed to the back of the classroom. His face was entirely closed off and cast in shadow, and he refused to look in Steve’s direction.

Huh?

Did he…not want to be friends after all? Had Steve done something to offend him? Steve watched him nervously, hoping Eddie might glance over and give a reassuring smile or something, but he didn’t. He looked upset.

“Hey, fucker!” Tommy collapsed into the chair next to Steve, a shit-eating grin on his face. Steve narrowed his eyes at him, immediately suspicious. Had Tommy done something? It would definitely be in character.

“What did you do?” he demanded to know, but the look Tommy gave him looked totally blank. Like he had no clue what Steve might be talking about. It made Steve pause, because if there was one thing about Tommy, it was that he was absolutely, completely shameless. If he’d done something shitty to Eddie, then he’d have no problem bragging about it. 

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“You look pretty pleased with yourself,” Steve said, pressing for more information without actively accusing him. “So I―I don’t know. I figured something happened.”

“Do I?” Tommy smiled so wide it split his face. Okay, so he was obviously excited about something. If he’d done something to Eddie, this was when he’d brag about it. “Hmm…Maybe that’s because…” he paused for dramatic effect, “My dad said we can have booze at the Halloween party this year.”

Oh yeah. Steve had totally forgotten. 

Tommy hosted Halloween parties every year since they’d gotten into middle school. He always went kind of all out, ordering a ton of pizza and snacks and sodas, in an effort to make a name for himself among the popular crowd. Still, his mom was pretty strict about making it “good, clean, fun,” so there was never any alcohol, and it was usually a lot more focused on “night games” like Murderer in the Dark, Role-Call, or Don’t Get Bit.  It was rare that more than thirty or so people showed up. 

As far as Steve was concerned, Tommy’s Halloween parties were way better than the giant ones the seniors threw, but Tommy always wanted it to be bigger, grander. He wasn’t going to be satisfied unless it was a full-on rager.

Junior year offered the perfect opportunity because Tommy’s parents had gotten divorced that spring and his dad was trying to cement himself into the ‘cool parent’ position. Which meant for the first time Tommy was actually able to get a keg. 

From what Steve could remember of the party, Tommy’d finally been successful. He’d hosted one of the biggest ragers in Hawkins High history. They’d had a blast, Tommy’d managed to get in good with the cool kids, and it had been shut down by the cops just before midnight. That had been the last party he’d thrown at his house for the rest of his high school career. He probably hadn’t been allowed to have any more after his mom got word of it, but Tommy definitely thought it was worth it. He’d been on top of the moon for the next couple of weeks. 

Steve barely remembered the party itself. He knew it had been fun. He’d been disappointed that Nancy hadn’t been able to come―she’d had to babysit her brother or something like that―but it had been nice to be able to just have fun and not worry what she’d think of him. He’d gotten the title of Keg King at that party, he at least remembered that much. The rest had been a blur.

“Hey, good for you, man.” Steve grinned, sparing another glance at Eddie, who was rather determinedly not looking at him. “Can’t wait for it to happen.”

If Tommy hadn’t done anything to Eddie, then what had happened?

The rest of the day was spent mostly in a rush of trying to keep up with classes. He’d bombed a pop quiz in his first-period history class, so he, Simon, and Arnie continued to plan a study group session for Saturday morning. As they did, more people overheard and decided to join. Now, it was going to be Simon, Arnie, Dan, Steve, Tommy, Mitchell Dumphey, and Matt Raggio.

Mitchell was a reedy-thin beta who was on JV everything, pretty much. he didn’t have a lot of athletic ability, but he always wanted to do anything the rest of the jocks did. When he angled to join the group, nobody really seemed to care. When Matt Raggio tried to join, though, the tension got so thick it could be cut with a knife.

Steve didn’t really know where all the hostility was coming from. He was starting to think he’d been criminally oblivious the first time around. As far as he remembered, everyone had been close friends, and then Steve had the fight with Byers, and nobody wanted to be his friend anymore. Simple.

It seemed like there were a lot of underlying politics he’d missed.

Matt was on Steve’s swim team and had a reputation of being a bit of a player. He’d always been a really touchy guy, so Steve supposed it shouldn’t have startled him as much as it did when the alpha slid in behind him, squeezing the back of Steve’s neck in something that was probably supposed to be a friendly gesture. Except that his fingers accidentally slid against Steve’s mating patch, making him flinch away.

“Sounds fun!” The guy didn’t even look at Steve as he spoke, a big grin on his face. “I’ve been needing to up my grade in this class. Thanks for offering to help, Simon.”

Simon offered Matt a muted smile. He looked a little annoyed, probably because he hadn’t signed up to tutor this many people. “Any time.” He answered, voice carefully neutral.

Steve couldn’t help but feel a little bad. Simon had been nice when he’d offered to tutor, but now it seemed like he might get taken advantage of. After people dispersed, he made sure to stick around Simon just a little bit longer to check-in: “Are you okay? You know, if you don’t want to tutor, you definitely don’t have to. I’m sure I can make it on my own―”

He cut himself off as Simon ruffled a hand through his hair. “I’m fine, Apple Pie. You don’t have to worry about me.” As he brought his hand back, it accidentally brushed against Steve’s mating patch again,  and Steve suppressed a cringe at the touch.

Why was everyone so obsessed with his neck all of a sudden?  He definitely didn’t remember people touching his mating patch this much the first time around. Of course, the place was a lot less sensitive among unpresented people¹⁴, but surely he would’ve noticed it before?

Was this…normal? Steve hadn’t actually had any alpha friends besides Robin after presenting. She’d never been touchy like this, but maybe it was because she was a girl? Maybe alpha guys were just more naturally cuddly or something? It wasn’t like Hopper’d ever accidentally touched Steve’s mating patch, though, even when feral.

Maybe it was just because they were still in high school and people were still learning how to behave themselves. Obviously, people would make mistakes along the way, right? Steve glanced at Simon’s easy, comforting smile, and decided that must be it. There was no way there was some kind of romantic interest there. Even if Steve hadn’t presented as an alpha yet, they were both guys. And Simon was a great guy. There was no way he was interested in Steve,  of all people.

Sure enough, the study session on Saturday went poorly. Not just because of all the alpha aggression in the air, either. In the end, it was probably his dad who’d been the biggest buzzkill. 

His relationship with his dad was complicated, to say the least. His mom was easier to get along with; she had a dreamy, listless kind of way about her, and she was always doing her own thing. She was an artist,  the kind who couldn’t be tied down by anything. Case in point, she’d been in one of her “slumps” on Thursday, the kind where she couldn’t leave her bed for weeks on end. But then Friday night she’d whooshed into his room to excitedly announce she was leaving on a spiritual retreat to India for the next three months¹⁵ .

It was just kind of how she was. All he had to do to get along with her was just go with the flow of whatever she had going on. If she was sad, he just had to bring her some tea to her bed and rub her back a bit. If she was in a good mood, then he just had to smile along and listen as she excitedly ran through all her grand plans to cleanse herself of all negativity.

His dad, in contrast, was a lot tougher to get a read on. He was a quiet man, and extremely socially awkward. When Steve had been growing up, he’d thought his dad didn’t love him for the longest time. They just never had any moments of closeness, like he’d had with his mom. His dad would hover and occasionally make a comment that would show he was trying, but he would never actually connect.  Looking back with more mature eyes, he realized it was probably more that his dad just didn’t know how to act around other people than any real lack of care.

But it had still been hard. He’d been really strict during all of Steve’s years of growing up. Wouldn’t allow any sleepovers, forced Steve to eat balanced and nutritious meals, wouldn’t allow any variation from their normal routine. He’d talk a lot about honoring the Harrington name, and Steve had been kind of obsessed with making his dad proud. He couldn’t really help it. All kids wanted their parents to love them and be proud of them. For guys, the way how you did that was you presented as an alpha. It was just kind of a…thing. 

So when Steve had presented, he’d been excited for him and his dad to finally connect. He had all these mental images of his dad taking him under his wing and showing him the ropes, but it just didn’t really go that way. If anything, his dad got more distant after his presentation. His expectations got higher, and they started getting into a ton of fights. Something about presenting or getting older made Steve less likely to take anyone’s shit, and he started pushing back against all his dad’s oppressive rules. They were both extremely stubborn, so most of their last couple of years together were just full of fighting.

Eventually, his dad must’ve gotten sick of it, because he started going on business trips more and more. Steve’s mom was already rarely around, so after he graduated the house was almost always empty.

Steve had probably gotten a little too used to the freedom he’d been afforded in the last year or so. He’d forgotten how neurotic and weird his dad could be. As the group of alphas got comfortable in the living room, spreading out their study materials, Steve’s dad hovered at the edge of the room, watching them all silently.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Harrington.” Simon tried to introduce himself by offering his hand, “Steve’s told me a lot about you.”

Steve’s dad stared at the proffered hand for just a beat too long before he took it, his face impassive. “I wish I could say the same.”

Uncomfortable silence followed, and Steve winced, urging Simon to come join the rest of the group. “Sorry,” he whispered, “my dad’s kind of an asshole.”

It didn’t get better. His dad continued to hover as the group studied, nursing a mug of coffee in his hands as he made passive-aggressive comments about how they were taking over his living room. It got so bad, Steve even moved them over to the sunroom in the back of the house, but it didn’t help. His dad just lingered in the doorway like a stubborn fly.

When the alphas finally left, Steve’s dad gave him a look. “They seemed…nice.”

“They’re my friends.” Steve defended, because he could already tell that his dad didn’t like them. He’d forgotten about how annoying this could be―why he’d never invited people over unless his parents were both gone.

His dad only snorted. “Sure.”

Whatever the hell that meant. Two days. He’d lasted two days of having his dad around before they were getting on each others’ nerves again. They spent the rest of the afternoon mostly ignoring each other, and Steve was so annoyed by the silence that he left for his date with Nancy almost a full hour earlier than he’d planned.

The date was going to be something relaxed. When they’d dated the first time around, Steve had always been really proactive about planning dates and had always made sure to take them to nice places. He just figured it was kind of an alpha’s job, taking the initiative, and that taking her to nice places just showed how much he valued her. It wasn’t until their relationship failed that Nancy finally admitted her irritation at how much he’d “bulldozed” her when making plans, and said how turned off she was by his “elitist” taste. This time he wanted to do things differently, so he’d asked her where she wanted to go, feeling pretty confident.

Mr. Cluck’s Chicken Shop was not what he’d had in mind, but he was determined to make it work.

Like, sure, he had this internal feeling that taking a girl to a fast-food place on a date was vaguely disrespectful to her, but this was what she’d wanted! He needed to stop being so elitist and just deal with it. It was fine. They were teenagers. It was a normal, teenage thing to do to just get fast food together. It was fine. Totally chill. Still, his stomach couldn’t help but churn at the thought of all the health codes that place probably violated. The sheer greasiness of it.

His parents were kind of nuts about clean eating. His mom was always going on some fad diet, and his dad always made a point of lecturing him about nutrition, so Steve had always had a hard time with greasy food. It felt wrong to eat, like if he did some cosmic force would come down from the sky and scold him. Or the grease would curdle in his stomach and stick there for years. He knew it wasn’t realistic. But it still felt forbidden. He spent a couple hours contemplating bringing his own food, but eventually decided against it. That would be a little too weird, even for him. He just needed to suck it up and eat the greasy food.

Trying to make the most of it, he’d brought a tablecloth and some thin candles, just to make it a tiny bit special. He stuffed them in a picnic basket in the backseat, hoping Nancy would think it was a cute gesture. He was never really sure with her.

They didn’t really have the same taste in anything. She was, like, effortlessly classy, where he always kind of felt like just some guy in comparison. The level of poise she carried herself with was something he’d never quite been able to embody, himself. She usually just ended up embarrassed by his efforts.

Like, he used to really enjoy bursting into song if something reminded him of the lyrics to something. He and Carol had a knack for it, and sometimes they were in sync enough that someone would say something and all they’d have to was give each other a look and they’d know exactly what song they should both sing. When he’d started dating Nancy, though, the habit had died a slow, agonizing death. Because Nancy never thought it was fun. Instead of joining along and laughing like any of Steve’s other friends, she always twisted her face into a cringe, genuinely embarrassed by his behavior. Even after they’d dated, he’d stopped doing it―too conscious of how annoying he was probably being.

So he was a little nervous, coming into the date. He wanted everything to go perfectly, but he was also so nervous he was going to fuck something up.

Nancy was still getting ready when he showed up, so Steve was invited to wait for her in the living room. He endured a couple minutes of small talk with her dad before the older man turned his attention to the TV again. Steve was left with the choice to either watch reruns of All in the Family or wander downstairs to the basement, where he could hear the kids cheering. Ted Wheeler barely glanced at him as Steve made his way through the door to the basement stairs.

The scene that greeted him made tears spring to his eyes. Because there were the kids, their faces lit up with joy as they crowded around a little card table and played their D&D game. They must’ve made some kind of bit hit, because they were all cheering when he came down. Will was jumping up and down, little hands bunched into fists. Lucas waved his arms wildly as he shouted “Take that! HAHA!”

Dustin had collapsed in his chair and had both his hands tangled in his curls as he gave a giant, toothless smile. His baseball cap was askew, knocked sideways by his excitement. Mike made exaggerated motions with his hands as he mimed blood spurting from his chest “Noooo!!” He hissed like a snake.

They were just kids.

They looked so young.

He hadn’t realized how war-hardened they’d gotten until this moment. He hadn’t seen Dustin smile an actual smile since Eddie’d died. Maybe before that. Lucas, too, had turned into the perfect soldier in these last couple of months, his face always a stoic mask. Mike had gotten so detached over the last couple of years, like he couldn’t admit he loved anything or it would be taken away from him.

And then there was Will. Will, who’d been taken over by Vecna. Who’d died―his body had stayed alive, sure, but all light had been totally extinguished from his eyes. The kid they’d known was gone. Even before that, Steve didn’t know if he’d ever seen the kid not terrified. He always had this eerie sense of foreboding about him, like he knew about dangers no one else could see.

Now, Will was smiling with a grin that lit up his whole face. His big eyes were totally innocent and he looked like a small animal. Like a baby bird that totally trusted the world around it, that had never seen pain or sadness or true fear.

And―it was like Steve could picture holding the baby bird in his hand. Could feel how small its body was, how he could feel its heart beating rapidly through his skin. Could feel how weak and vulnerable it was―and the choice he’d agonized on before didn’t really feel like a choice at all. Because there was no way he could ever leave Will to be killed by Vecna. Even if it was fate. Even if it was for the greater good.

Fuck the timeline. So what if there was a chance Vecna could target someone else? Who cared? If Steve left Will alone, it was certain the kid’s life was going to be ruined. Even if, by some miracle, he could stop Vecna from taking over the kid’s body, that childlike innocence would be killed forever. He’d spend the rest of his young life nervously jumping at every shadow, never able to be truly happy again.

Steve wasn’t going to let that happen.

No, he was going to save Will He would be there that fateful night to drive Will home. And he wouldn’t leave him alone. He’d…even if it meant he himself was going to have to fight a demogorgon, he was going to save this kid.

“Can we help you?” Dustin’s sassy voice startled Steve from his thoughts.

“Oh. I was just―I heard yelling, and I was wondering what was going on.”

“Well, move along, pal. We’re just playing a game. Nothing to see here.” Dustin answered, and Steve couldn’t help but chuckle at how much attitude he had. Yep, that was Dustin alright.

“Dungeons and Dragons, right?” Steve asked, knowing it would surprise the kids that he knew the name of their little game. Sure enough, their eyes widened and the kids started looking frantically between one another in their strange silent communication. “What, you thought I wouldn’t know what it was? Amateurs. Bet you’ve never even beat Vecna.”

“What’s he talking about? Mike, do you know what he’s talking about?” Lucas asked, but it was Dustin who answered, talking over him.

“You’ve played the Greyhawk campaign?! I heard that was so good! Do you have the books? Could we borrow them?”

Whoops. The trouble with pretending to be a super-nerd was that Steve had pretty much no clue what he was talking about. He mostly zoned out when the kids started going off about their games. So, he had no clue how to answer that question. 

Still, he was a decent liar, and he wanted to look cool in front of the kids, so he did his best. “I don’t,” He lied, “But my friend Eddie does. We’ve played together a lot―it’s a pretty fun game.”

Steve had never played Dungeons and Dragons before in his life. He needed to stop lying, but by now his mouth was moving on its own.

“Mike! You said he was a loser!” Dustin shoved poor Mike, who protested loudly that he’d just said he thought  Steve was a loser, not that he’d known for sure. Steve grinned, enjoying the way the kids swarmed him, each wanting to know everything about his Dungeons and Dragons campaigns. He bluffed as best he could.

“Obviously, my character’s a fighter.” He bragged, “The attack stats are out of this world.”

“What’s your strength?”

“The maximum.”

“No way! ”

The kids were young enough that it was actually pretty easy to fool them. As they continued to talk and Steve told made-up stories about a game he’d never played, he realized he’d probably retained more about D&D than he’d thought. 

“My favorite magic item is definitely the Teeth of―aw shit, I forget the name.”

“The Teeth of Dahlver-nar!” Mike’s hands flailed excitedly. “Those are my favorite too! Oh my god! Lucas, do you remember when I put them in that campaign and―”

“Yes! Obviously!” Lucas had migrated right to Steve’s right side, looking up at Steve with something akin to hero worship in his eyes. “One time, I―One time, I―I―” He stuttered over the words in his excitement to tell his story about how he used one of the teeth to gain the power of telepathy, and ended up reading that Dustin’s character had a crush on one of the beautiful NPC’s they were traveling with. Apparently, the NPC didn’t return the feelings, and hijinks had ensued.

Eventually, Nancy came down, dressed in an outfit that kind of made her look like Sandy from Grease, before her makeover. She looked…young. That was the best word for it. Nancy was a bit like Sandy, herself. She had that good girl persona for most of her high school career, but something about defeating the demogorgon brought out this war-hardened side of her that was pretty badass. There was an edge to her that was sexy as hell.

So, maybe it was that this version of her hadn’t found that edge yet, or maybe it was because she was actually a lot younger than she’d been when he’d gone back in time, but everything about how she looked just reminded him starkly of her youth. She’s the same age as Max, an annoying voice inside his head reminded. Younger, actually, because Max turned sixteen last month, and Nancy still has a couple weeks before her birthday.

Whatever. His body was sixteen right now, too. And it wasn’t like he was planning on doing anything rated R with her. He’d keep it totally PG. Peck on the cheek at most. And…the age gap just felt weird right now, because he still considered himself to be nineteen. Once he got used to this body, he’d feel a little younger and they’d feel like they were the same age again, right? That was what made sense. And Nancy wasn’t going to be sixteen forever, so…it would feel normal again soon enough. He just had to wait out the weirdness. And it’s not like she wasn’t pretty now, or anything. It was Nancy. She’d always be pretty. It just felt a little weird right now. That was all.

“You look great!” He greeted all the same, hoping it sounded sincere. He waved goodbye to the kids, but as he was just about to leave, he hesitated. 

Of course he was going to save Will. He’d made that decision, and he was going to follow through. But what if something happened in the meantime? What if the demogorgon appeared on a different street, or the person it went after was Dustin? Or Lucas?

“Um, buddy system.” He blurted, right before he got to the door. The entire group looked at him like he was crazy, and he elaborated, “I―uh, it can get dangerous riding your bikes alone at night, so―better to use the buddy system, right? Stick together. Safety in numbers and all that.”

“That’s gay.” Mike Wheeler complained, and Steve would laugh if he wasn’t so annoyed.

“Better to be gay than dead.” He snapped back, before realizing he’d gotten too serious. “I mean, one of you could get hurt and fall in those woods. Um―Will, you live the farthest away, right? Imagine if he got hurt and no one was around. It would be better if…”

Nobody seemed to be taking him very seriously, and he trailed off. He didn’t even know why he was trying so hard to convince them. It wasn’t like the  buddy system  was going to help if a demogorgon came after them. “Anyways. If it’s ever dark and you need a ride home or something, just call me. I’ll drive you home.”

“Could you drive me home tonight?” Will asked.

“Sure,” Steve agreed automatically. By this point, driving the kids around was just second nature. “How about you, Dustin? Lucas? Y’all want a ride home, too?”

The kids obviously weren’t going to say no. Steve shoved their bikes in the trunk, in the usual kind of way where they hung half out the back, but were so packed in there they’d never fall. The mood in the car was pretty upbeat. Dustin started going on about some show they were all watching, and when Steve said he’d never watched it before, it prompted a fifteen-minute-long rant about every intricacy within the plot of the show. He smiled as he listened. It was just so nice to see them young and free from grief.

Nancy was quiet where she sat in the passenger seat, but Steve didn’t think too much of it. She’d always been a quiet, reserved person. Even more so at the beginning of their relationship, before she started to get into her comfort zone. He bumped up the music, dropped the kids off one by one, and did his best to make polite conversation on the way there. They got to the restaurant around seven pm, which was a bit later than he’d planned, but not too bad.

By this point, Nancy had gotten a little more comfortable, and was telling him a story of a family trip to the Finger Lakes. As they parked and began to make their way into the restaurant, he grabbed the picnic basket from the backseat. She paused her story to eye it curiously but didn’t outright comment on it.

At least until they found a booth and Steve pulled out a blue checkered tablecloth, draping it over the table.

“Um. We can just do the normal table,” Nancy said as she watched him set it up. “I don’t want to be a bother.”

“It’s no problem. I already brought the stuff.” Steve said, pulling the candles out of his basket and arranging them exactly how he wanted them. “I wanted to make it special.”

“I mean, it doesn’t have to be special. I feel like it’ll be just as fun with or without―” she argued, obviously just trying to be polite. Steve didn’t pay much attention to it. Even if she was ‘fine with nothing’, he didn’t feel comfortable putting zero effort into a date. This was just something small, to make it special. It wasn’t a big deal. He pulled out a lighter and set the first candle aflame. The perfect little romantic touch―

“Um, sir, you can’t have an open flame in here. Sorry.” Steve whirled around, so shocked he dropped the lighter.That voice! Sure enough, there stood Eddie Munson, wearing a garish orange uniform and looking like he’d rather be anywhere else.

Eddie loomed over Steve, his gangly arms crossed in front of him. The uniform he wore was ugly, with an orange and white striped shirt and bright orange pants. A light orange apron was tied around his waist, and the top half of his hair had been tied up with a ponytail holder. A visor with an illustrated chicken on it sat perched on his head. Beneath it, Munson looked deeply uncomfortable.

“You work here?! ” Steve said, so surprised his brain-to-mouth filter broke. “I thought you dealt drugs!”

His voice came out too loud, and the neighboring older couple sitting a couple tables down stared at them judgmentally. “You’re thinking of someone else! I’ve never done something like that.” Eddie said just as loudly, before grabbing Steve by the arm and pulling him into the cool air outside. He looked furious, his mouth set in a hard line and his hands twitching with a frenetic energy. His hand was warm where it held tightly to Steve’s bicep, and Steve could see the tips of his ears turning pink.

“Dude.” He hissed at Steve once they were safely out of hearing range. “Are you trying to get me fired?!”

Even in the brisk air outside, and with Steve’s muted senses, he could smell how angry the alpha was. The white parking lot lights made the shadows on his face look even angrier, and Steve found himself averting his eyes from the expression¹⁶. Suddenly the blackened patch of gum glued to the sidewalk looked very interesting. He crossed his hands behind his back, holding onto his elbow in a way that tried to look harmless.

“Sorry.” He mumbled, feeling like there were spiders crawling over his skin. Why had he said that? It was like his foot just lived in his mouth. “I know you probably don’t―I really am sorry”

“Do you know what would happen to me if my boss found out I deal?” Eddie’s voice was a tense whisper as he glared at Steve, hands on his hips. “Is that why you came? To humiliate me and make me lose my job?”

“Why would I do that?” Steve asked, lost. He finally glanced up at Eddie’s eyes, before lowering them again. Because the answer to the question was obvious. It was his King Steve past, come up again to haunt him. He fumbled to defend himself, fingernails biting his skin. “I was just on a date, I didn’t even know you worked here―I promise you, I wouldn’t do that!”

Eddie’s face was red with anger, and he quickly seemed to be working himself into a fury. “Look, I know you found my notebook, so we can cut the crap here, Harrington. I’m sorry, okay? I know how it looks, but I promise I didn’t mean―look, if you want me to, like, run errands for you or something I can do that to make it up to you. Or if you want to beat me up, I’ll get it. But not everybody has a silver spoon like you. Some of us need to work to survive, so if you could kindly fuck off―”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa―” Steve waved his hands, trying to get Eddie to stop his tirade. “I don’t know what notebook you’re talking about! I swear I’m not trying to get you fired! I’m sorry, I was honestly just confused! Like, why do you work here when you already got a source of income? That was all!”

“The―” Eddie looked around and dropped his voice down to a whisper so quiet that Steve had to lean in to hear it. “--drugs are a side hustle, Harrington. How much money do you think you can really get dealing in rural Indiana?”

“I don’t know!” Steve tried to keep his voice down to a whisper, too, but it was really hard. “Enough to not work at Mr. Cluck’s.”

“Fuck you, Harrington, I’m in high school, where else am I supposed to find a job―”

“I’m not judging you! I’m just saying I was surprised!” Steve spoke over him. “I’m sorry! My brain doesn’t always work before I speak. I didn’t mean to snitch on you or anything. If you want, we’ll go. I promise I was just here to take my girlfriend out. That’s all.”

Eddie eyed him suspiciously. “So you’re saying you didn’t see the notebook at all?”

“No! I don’t even know which notebook you’re talking about! But honestly, even if I found some kind of notebook bashing me, I wouldn’t go try to get revenge on you or anything.” He tried to look as sincere as possible, knowing he was fighting against years of Eddie knowing Steve as the asshole popular kid who never thought of anyone but himself. “I know I’m an asshole. I’m not gonna be mad if someone wants to rant about it in their journal.”

Eddie squinted at him for a long couple of moments, before visibly deflating. “Fine, Harrington. Have a fun date with your girlfriend, whatever. Just―don’t come here again when I’m working, okay? I don’t want you blurting out things that’ll get me fired.”

“For sure.” Steve nodded, happy to avoid him after this awkward foot-in-mouth disaster. On the other hand, there were only so many places in Hawkins he could take Nancy― “When do you work? I’ll just avoid coming here on those days.”

Eddie scoffed, but materialized a napkin from his apron pocket. He wrote something on it with a pen he grabbed from behind his ear, and then pressed the little paper into Steve’s hand forcefully. “There. Just stay away from here as much as you can, dude. The less we see each other, the better.”

___________________

The date went fine. Steve picked at his sandwich and tried his best to make conversation. Nancy shared a couple more stories about her family. After she got home, she thanked him for the date and he gave her a kiss on the cheek.

It was fine. Good, even.

It was just―what did Eddie mean, the less they saw of each other, the better? He’d thought they were on their way to becoming friends! What had happened? Had Tommy said something to him? Had someone bullied him and told him Steve was involved?

Had Steve done something wrong? Did Eddie just not like him anymore?

Was it just because he’d accidentally said the drug thing? Because that was the only thing Steve could think of. But Eddie’d been twitchy and avoidant before then. He hadn’t even looked at him in study hall or English, the only two classes they shared.

Was it just because of how much of an asshole he’d been before he went back in time? Was that it? But―no, Eddie’d been nice on Thursday, when they’d had their Dungeons and Dragons thing. He’d been hesitant, sure, but not mad or anything. What had happened? What had changed between Thursday night and Friday morning?

He’d thought they were getting along! He’d been so excited to finally have an alpha boy friend guy-friend who he could rely on. Someone who was a little closer to his age, who didn’t treat him with that weird hero worship all the other alpha guys did. And now it was ruined. He’d obviously done something wrong, and Eddie didn’t want to be his friend anymore, and they weren’t going to go to clubs together, or play sports, or wrestle under the light of the full moon, or even watch porn together.

He’d been excited about the watching porn together one. Not in, like, a weird way, but just in a “bro” way, where they could talk about sex and guy stuff and double-check if their kinks were normal. That kind of thing. And he could look at Eddie’s dick when it was hard and see how things compared and if Eddie made the same noises as Steve did, and if they moved their hands the same and…

Now it would never happen. Because Eddie hated him.

The thoughts clouded his mind, distracting him from what would otherwise have been a really fun date.

Whatever. It wasn’t like he was back in time to become friends with Eddie. Like, sure. Obviously that would’ve been nice. He’d wanted to be friends with the guy since their first talk in the Upside Down, when Eddie’d said Steve was like Ozzy. He’d seemed like a cool person. Humble, which was rare for an alpha, and willing to see the best in other people.

But if he wanted to be just―mysterious and terrible at communication, then Steve wasn’t going to beg him to be his friend. He had other people he could be friends with.

And he wasn’t here to make friends, anyways. He was here to save lives.

And he was going to do that. He was right on track. He was going to forget Eddie, focus on himself, and make sure to be there on November 8th to save Will from getting kidnapped.

Easy.

9. “Pheromone studies have found that omega scents are particularly good at calming alphas and can reduce aggression up to 80%. In contrast, alphas find other alpha scents to be abrasive typically, and the presence of a particularly noxious alpha pheromone has been shown to increase aggression by up to 400%.” ―A Beta’s Guide to Alphas and Omegas, Chapter 2: Intersections of Biology and Behavior. return to text

10. “Alphas are often legendary for their competitiveness with one another, but interestingly enough, the competitiveness is most pronounced with members of the same primary gender. While alpha males and females can also get competitive, this is more rare than two alpha males being competitive with one another or two alpha females. This observation challenges the commonly-held belief that alpha competitiveness is solely caused by pheromonal aggression, and suggests there might be other societal factors.” ―A Beta’s Guide to Alphas and Omegas, Chapter 14: Modern Myths: Cycle-Zodiac, Stereotypes, and More. return to text

11. “People who present in traumatic situations have been shown to have a more insular pack mentality, less trust of outsiders, and heightened senses of smell” ―A Beta’s Guide to Alphas and Omegas, Chapter 6: Instincts and Traumatic Conditions.  return to text

12. “Alphas do tend to be the most high-energy of all the presentations. Both alphas and omegas have significantly more energy and more athletic builds than their beta counterparts. Many theorists theorize that is because of their different evolutionary ancestors, which remained hunter-gatherers until well after early betas settled down into agrarian society” ―A Beta’s Guide to Alphas and Omegas, Chapter 13: A/O Impact on Sports, Health, and Wellness. return to text

13. “‘How realistic are the “alpha bromances” we see in TV and movies? Currently dating an alpha and he seems really weirdly close with this alpha friend (f) he has. They mentioned spending their rut together, and I thought it was weird, but they said it was normal. They mentioned that old 80s movie Wrestle Punch, but I always thought that was more fictional.’ I think you are right to be cautious of that friendship. Because of alpha pheromone aggression and socialized taboos, it is rare for alpha friends to be exceptionally close. Also, because of the inherent intimacy of a rut, it is rare to spend it with someone you do not have romantic feelings for…’” ―A Beta’s Guide to Alphas and Omegas, the blog: Ask Dr. Krissman entry on June 9th, 2021. return to text

14. “As an a/o person presents, certain parts of their body become more sensitive. These parts are different for alphas and omegas; for instance, omegas will find their nipples, inside of their orifices, and buttocks will become more sensitive, while alphas typically find their stomach, penis, and hands become more sensitive. The mating patch becomes particularly sensitive for both genders.” ―A Beta’s Guide to Alphas and Omegas, Chapter 1: Biological Differences Between Alphas, Omegas, and Betas: An Overview. return to text

15. “Certain disorders look different in a/o people than they do in betas. Bipolar disorder and PMDD are primary examples. For betas, these are two very distinct disorders. However, for alphas and omegas, PMDD does not exist (as they do not have a menstrual cycle). Instead, they have Bipolar I and IV. All Bipolar disorders are characterized by stretches of mania and depression, Bipolar II and III are experienced by betas and categorized by weeks of manic or hypomanic episodes followed by weeks of depression. As far as our current scientific understanding goes, a reliable reason for the shifts or schedule for the shifts has not been found. A/o diagnoses look a little different. Bipolar I is categorized by shifting moods depending on the cycle of the moon, typically with manic or hypomanic episodes happening around the full moon, and depressive episodes happening during the new moon. Bipolar IV’s mood shifts are connected to hormonal changes relating to heat/rut cycles and find that manic and depressive episodes last longer―often months at a time.” ―A Beta’s Guide to Alphas and Omegas, Chapter 7: A/O Healthcare and Medicine. return to text

16. “As we’ve seen in this chapter, the world of a/o people is full of subtle (often imperceptible) signs of dominance and submission. To review, some of the common signs of submission can be: lowering one’s eyes, baring one’s neck (either subtly or obviously), crossing one’s hands behind their back (subtly baring the stomach), lowering one’s head, making oneself small…” ―A Beta’s Guide to Alphas and Omegas, Chapter 11: Pack Dynamics and Public Behavior. return to text

Chapter Text

. . .

The First 1983

Tommy was bullied all through elementary school and middle school. He didn’t like to talk about it; even Steve didn’t know about the worst of it, and they were friends during the worst of it. When Tommy thinks back to those days, he figures he probably deserved the bullying, really. He was such an annoying kid. The kind no one wanted to be around; a chubby crybaby that never knew when to shut up.  

He liked to think he was different, now. That he’d become some better version of that kid, but at the very core of him, he knew he wasn’t. The mask he wore was paper thin, and it felt like only a matter of time before people saw through it.

That was how he ended up on the floor of his kitchen on a Sunday night, trying to breathe into a paper bag and tell himself that his party tomorrow wouldn’t go up in flames.

Steve, as always, was the one to talk him down. “Don’t worry,” his friend assured, “We’re good. Here’s what we’ll do: I’ll skip school and get all the supplies. Snacks, decorations, the whole nine yards. Then you can go to school and just focus on inviting people and getting the weed taken care of. It’ll be fine. We’ve got this.”

. . .

Steve got a frantic call from Tommy on Sunday night, about an hour before he was planning to go to sleep. It was that quiet time of night when Steve liked to be the most productive; the dishes were done, the night time chores complete, and Steve was just barely working on finishing his homework and putting it aside for the next day. It was kind of strange, actually, how easily he fell into a daily routine once he was thrust back in time.

It felt a bit like he should be constantly freaking out changing the past, but there was also so much tedium to his daily life. His car still needed to get washed, the groceries needed to be bought, dinner needed to get made, laundry needed to be done. After his study group and date on Saturday, he’d ended up spending most of Sunday catching up errands and watching the game with his dad; one of the few things they liked to do together.

By now, his dad had long since retired for the night. But, as the phone rang, Steve noticed him come out of his room. He took a silent sentry position at the top of the stairs, unsubtly eavesdropping.

“We need to skip,” Tommy announced breathlessly on the other line.

“Hello to you, too.” The lack of any kind of an introduction was so in character, Steve had to laugh. He’d missed these late night freak-out calls. It used to be kind of their thing―Tommy calling in a fit of panic the night before some big event, and Steve talking him down from a ledge. It was bonding, in a way. Made Steve feel needed.

“Fuck you, man. I’m going nuts. My dad and I were supposed to get all the stuff for the party this weekend, but he’s being a total douche about it and we still haven’t gotten anything yet.” 

“Did you get the drinks? The…soda?” Steve asked, hesitating as he glanced up at his dad. Better not to admit that there’d be alcohol in front of his overprotective, sober-as-a-judge father.

“Yeah. He picked it up yesterday, which is the whole reason he’s being a douche. Anytime I ask him to get snacks or whatever, he’s all: ‘hey, I got you a keg. What more can you ask for?’ Like, fucking food, man. I’m freaking out. Everyone’s gonna come tomorrow and there’s just gonna be me there sitting with a keg and like, nothing else.”

“Sounds like a fun party to me.” Steve smiled. It was easy to fall back into friendship with Tommy when he was like this: vulnerable and neurotic instead of cruel.

“So are you gonna help me or not? Shit, dude, I haven’t even picked up the weed or anything yet―” Tommy cursed.

“I can do that.” Steve offered easily, ready to jump in where needed. Instead of a thank you, though, there was a long silence on the other line. 

“Um…dude, are you sure? Last time I saw Ricky, he still wasn’t over the whole Annie thing.” And, oh yeah. Steve had forgotten. He never bought the weed. If they were going to smoke, it was always Tommy who’d gotten the stuff. The reason for it was that Tommy’s normal dealer was a dude named Ricky who’d graduated a couple years before them. Ricky had this weird overprotective thing with his little sister, who was in their grade. Steve had dated her back in freshman year for a couple months, and it had made him public enemy #1 in Ricky’s book. Rumor had it that if the guy ever saw Steve’s face around town, he’d beat him bloody. Young Steve hadn’t wanted to chance it.

“Oh, uh. I was just gonna talk to Munson.” Steve said, twirling his fingers around the phone cord awkwardly. The silence on the other end got even more stark. Steve wracked his mind to think of why and came up short. Why had they never bought anything from Munson? As far as he remembered, they hadn’t even tried. He couldn’t remember, though. Weed had never really been something he’d particularly been into―Tommy was a big fan of it, though, so they’d usually just done it together. When they fell out of friendship, Steve hadn’t really felt the need to seek it out.

“He’s gonna sell to you?” Tommy seemed disbelieving, and Steve wondered why Eddie wouldn’t sell to him. Had…something happened between them in the original timeline? Was that why Eddie didn’t like him?

He couldn’t remember anything specific. He knew he’d been an asshole in general, but it was hard to remember the details of the people he’d hurt. It was something he’d had to come to terms with as he got older: he had never been the type to actively seek out harm to other people, but he’d been a gossip-monger and an enabler and that was bad enough. So many little thoughtless cruelties he’d said without thinking ended up hurting the people around him, and he hadn’t even been aware of it.

“Yeah, I mean, if he doesn’t I’ll just let you know. Honestly, we don’t really need any of that, um, stuff …” he glanced up at his dad, still hovering at the top of the stairs. “As long as there’s food and decorations, we should be good. I’m sure people will bring their own if they really want it.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“Here, how about this?” Steve said, stepping over to the living room to pull his planner out of his bag. “I’ll go to school tomorrow, talk to Munson, talk the party up to all the guys and everything, get a general tally of who’s planning on going. You can skip if you want, and get the snacks and some basic decorations and stuff. Then you can start the set up, and I’ll join you to finish setting up right after school. The party starts at seven, right? That’s more than enough time.”

There was a huge sigh of relief on the other end. “This is why I keep you around, Harrington.” Tommy joked. “Yeah, let’s do that.”

Steve couldn’t help but smile as he hung up the phone. It was nice, being friends with Tommy again. Being able to talk him through a freakout like he’d done a million times over. It gave him a renewed hope that things would stay civil between them; that they’d be able to come out on the other side as friends.

His dad still stood at the top of the stairs. “You’re going to Tommy’s Halloween party tomorrow?” He asked, face impassive.

“Yeah, um…” Oh yeah, did his dad even know about it? It happened every year, so Steve just assumed he’d be allowed to go. “I was gonna sleep over like I usually do. Is that okay?”

“Hn.” His dad didn’t even bother to say yes or no. Just started walking back to his room. “If you’re late for school the next day I’m taking your car.”

______________________________

The next day, Halloween, Tommy skipped like they’d planned, and Steve hated to admit it was a bit of a relief to have him gone. It was a lot easier to go through the school day without having to constantly check to make sure his friend hadn’t bullied anyone or said something cruel. It was nice not to have to worry about cleaning up his messes.

When he got to school, he made sure to spread the word about the party. He and the guys had a lot of free time during their first-period class to discuss it.

Steve’s history teacher was a portly woman with a bustling, extroverted energy and a weird complex about her son. She had the same schedule every morning―she’d show up to class fifteen minutes late, talk about her son while warming herself up a coffee and making some pop-tarts, and then spend the last half of class reading word-for-word from the textbook. Apparently they were supposed to use the time before the teacher arrived to study, but Steve always spent it slacking off and talking to the guys.

“Are you going to dress up?” Arnie asked as he crowded over Steve’s desk, and Simon kicked him like he’d said something he shouldn’t.

Steve hadn’t really thought of it. “Should I?”

“Yes!” Arnie said enthusiastically, and Simon kicked him again.

“Not if you don’t want to, Steve.” He assured, but Steve didn’t have a a problem with doing something low effort. Maybe he’d pick up some fake fangs¹⁷ or something on his way home so he could be a vampire¹⁸. He was pretty sure he already had a cape he’d used a couple years ago lying around somewhere.

“You should be a cat.” Arnie suggested, and this time Simon gave up all subtlety and slapped him upside the head. Steve got the distinct sense there was some kind of a joke going on that he wasn’t privy to.

Were they making fun of him right now? He’d never seen an alpha or beta guy dress up as a cat for Halloween. It was one of those ‘sexy costumes’ you usually only saw girls and omegas wear. “I’m not a girl.” He said, adopting the firm alpha voice he’d perfected over the years. It didn’t come out quite as intimidating as he was used to, but it still had the effect he wanted. Archie backed off, and even Simon looked apologetic.

“He’s just being an ass.” Simon assured, “Seriously, Steve, you don’t have to dress up as anything you don’t want to. I’ll be there either way.”

“I will, too.” Arnie added, which for some reason earned him another glare from Simon.

By lunch time, Steve felt pretty confident that the party would be a big hit. He’d gotten a verbal confirmation from every alpha he’d ever played a sport with and a bunch of the cheerleaders, too. A couple people had even offered to bring snacks and drinks, which was really nice of them. 

All in all, he was feeling pretty good. It was just so nice to be well-liked again. Everybody he talked to seemed eager to talk to him, excited that he’d invited them, and willing to help with anything needed. A ton of guys offered to come early to help set up, even more offered him a ride if he needed one, and someone even noticed he was tense and offered him a massage.

What a nice gesture. Nobody ever offered him a massage after he lost his popularity.

Back in his first life, when he’d had his fall from grace, he’d complained a lot about it to Nancy. It had become something of an obsession for him, picking apart each and every little interaction with the people who’d once been his best friends: “I sat at my old lunch table, and they just went silent. It was so awkward. I don’t know what I did.” “I tried to invite Simon over to my house to study together, but he rejected it so fast! I don’t understand.” 

She’d always insisted he was just blowing things out of proportion. That it was all in his head. He still got invited to parties, participated in all the team events for basketball and swimming, and had friendly enough conversations with the other guys. So, he must be imagining things. He was still popular―what did he have to complain about?

But looking at the way people treated him now, there was definitely a difference. No doubt about it. He hadn’t imagined it―he’d definitely fallen out of people’s good graces somehow.

What rumor did they spread about him? Because that had to be it. There was no other reasonable explanation why everyone would have started acting weird around him so suddenly. It had to be some kind of crazy rumor. He couldn’t imagine what, though.

The thought remained on his mind until lunchtime, when he invited both Barb and Nancy to sit with his lunch table. He was actually feeling pretty proud of himself for inviting her this time around. He figured it would be instant brownie points with Nancy. 

Before her death, Steve hadn’t really thought about Barb as anything other than 'Nancy’s weirdo friend who keeps clinging onto her even when Nance clearly doesn’t want anything to do with her.' Nancy had never really said anything specific to make him think that, but it had always been the impression he’d gotten of their relationship. He’d been wrong, of course. 

It wasn’t until after Barb had died that he’d learned how deep their friendship ran. Apparently, the two had been best friends since they were in pre-school. Spent every single night over at one another's houses. Spent every birthday and holiday together and said they’d be friends forever.

And then Nancy had met Steve, who’d been the ultimate douchebag. He’d apparently been hostile towards Barb from the beginning, making fun of her and acting like he was above her. Because of that, as Nancy fell for him, she couldn’t help but feel more and more like she needed to keep her friendship with Barb hidden. Because obviously Steve would ditch her if he realized they were actually close friends. His hostility towards Barb and overall unwelcoming nature tore the friendship apart. It was one of the things that became a persistent conflict between them after Barb's death--Nancy's resentment towards Steve for being so unwelcoming of Barb that it ruined the last months Nancy with her.

If he had been a little bit kinder to the girl, maybe Nancy wouldn’t have felt like she needed to ignore her to gain his approval. And if she hadn’t felt so pressured by him to abandon her friend, maybe Barb never would’ve died.

So, in the end, it was all Steve’s fault.

He could hardly blame Nancy for leaving him. Who would want to stay with the guy who got your best friend killed?

But, luckily, that was all changeable. In this life, Barb definitely wasn’t going to die and Steve wasn’t ever going to be an asshole to her. He was going to fix things.

Unfortunately, Nancy didn’t seem pleased at the invitation. She gave him a weird look.

“Are you sure?” She asked, glancing nervously between them. Barb didn’t look too happy to be invited either; she kept shooting Nancy these frantic little eyebrow twitches. “I mean…I don’t want to cause any inconvenience.”

“Nah, it’s fine.” Steve gave a hospitable smile, addressing Barb directly. “Sorry I didn’t invite you earlier. Tommy can be kind of an asshole to new people, so…anyways, he’s out today so I thought I’d invite you.”

“Nancy and I were going to eat with the mathletes.” Barb announced proudly and Nancy looked at her like she wanted to murder her. It was cute, like how Max got when one of the kids forced her to admit she’d played D&D and liked it.

“You’re a mathlete, Nance?” He asked with an affectionate grin. “You should’ve told me, I would’ve cheered you on.”

She punched him in the shoulder. “Shut up.”

Barb looked even more upset for some reason. She addressed Nancy as she announced: “You were the best on the team from our grade. Even better than Fred Benson. We went to state finals together!”

“Ooo, state finals, nice.” Steve had the vaguest feeling like he was intruding on a private argument, but he tried his best to ignore it. He didn’t really follow math competitions, so he wasn’t sure if getting to state finals was actually something he should be impressed about, but it sounded like something that took a lot of skill. Why had Nancy never mentioned it? “Think you got a shot at it this year?”

“I don’t do that anymore.” Nancy answered, face beet red. She scowled at Barb. “I quit.”

“Why?” Why quit something you obviously loved enough to compete in at the state level? “You should do it again. Bet it’d look great on college apps.” 

The way she was acting, he’d think it was because she was embarrassed of being a nerd, but this was Nancy Wheeler. She’d never cared what other people thought of her. Maybe if he reassured her that he liked the whole mathlete thing? “And, you know, intelligence is sexy.”

Nancy threw him a disgusted look. “You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.”

Steve winced. Obviously she hadn’t meant it seriously. She was using it as their little flirtatious catchphrase, so it shouldn’t have wounded him. And it didn’t. He was able to parse out the difference between things meant to wound and flirty banter.

It was just that it touched on an old wound. When they’d first started dating, it had been a cute little catchphrase between them, a reassurance that she found his antics amusing. As their relationship progressed, though, it had sounded more and more cutting, until it was a constant reminder of his own inadequacy. He’d finally had to ask her to stop at the beginning of senior year, and it caused a huge fight, one of their last really big ones before they’d broken up.

Nancy didn’t seem to notice. “I’m going to sit with Steve at his table,” she announced to Barb. “You’re welcome to join if you want.”

Carol gave him a wide-eyed look when she saw who’d be joining them at the lunch table. With Tommy gone, she wasn’t going to outright be a bitch, but the look she gave Steve told him exactly what she thought about the situation. He just quirked a brow at her, trying to convey, What? It’s not like it’s hurting anyone.

Carol’s eyes got even wider and she raised her brows, giving Barb a side-eye as if to say, Are you fucking kidding me? Me! It’s hurting me! Look at the way she’s nibbling that tuna sandwich like a psycho. Look at the way she’s cutting her grapes into fourths! I hate her Steve! I hate her!

Steve ignored her, forcing himself to make eyes contact with Barb, who was indeed nibbling her tuna sandwich like a psycho. She looked almost like a cartoon mouse, taking the most rapidfire tiny little bites. 

“So, um. What did you think of History today?” He asked, because he knew they had the same class together, even if Barb never so much as glanced at him during it.

“Rankin is a terrible teacher. I bet you enjoy that, though.” Barb answered, and Steve couldn’t help but glance at Carol, surprised at the hostility in the girl’s tone.

See what I mean? Carol’s eyes seemed to say. Steve turned back to Barb, trying to keep things civil. “Um. It’s definitely nice that I have friends in the class, but I’d like her to actually teach stuff, too. I had Click last year, and she was pretty good. I, um. I can like learning when it’s fun.”

Barb just narrowed her eyes at him. “Click only teaches the seniors.”

“Oh, um. It was for an elective.” He corrected himself, hoping it sounded believable enough. Shit, he needed to get better about keeping his story straight. He kept confusing details between the two timelines.

“Well. I haven’t had her yet.” Barb answered with an irritated huff. Steve wasn’t sure what she was irritated about, and his eyes slid over to Carol again for a second opinion. She gave him another I told you so look before turning her attention to Nancy.

“So, Wheeler, are you ready for housekeeping class today?” Carol asked, making a face. “I honestly can’t believe that’s something we get graded on.”

Nancy gave a giant sigh of agreement. “Oh, I know! I’d much rather take on a second English elective but no, Home-Ec is required for omegas.”¹⁹

“I bet Home-Ec is better than woodshop.” Steve commiserated. “I suck at getting all the measurements right, and the teacher’s a total ass.”

“Hey, there’s still a chance for you to switch.” Carol gave a playful smirk, poking him in the shoulder. “All you gotta do is present as an omega.”

Steve just rolled his eyes. “Oh, yeah. I’ll make sure to do that.”

“I heard that you can tell if you’ll present as an alpha or omega based off what foods you’re craving―like if you’re craving sweet foods you’ll be an omega, but if you’re craving savory foods you’ll be an alpha.²⁰ ” Nancy jumped in enthusiastically. “Have you had any cravings? Any other pre-presentation signs?”

“Not yet,” Steve admitted, not wanting to lie to her. “I think maybe I just had a cold, I haven’t had any other symptoms. I’m sure it’s coming soon, though…”

“I like Home-Ec.” Barb announced, interrupting the flow of conversation. The three of them stared at her, unsure of how to respond. Steve couldn't help but wonder what could possibly be going on in her head that she thought they were still talking about Home-Ec.

Steve looked around to check the others’ reactions. Carol’s lips were pressed together like she wanted to laugh, and Nancy just looked irritated. Looked like it would be up to him to salvage things. “Oh yeah? What do you like about it?” He asked politely.

“I know you might look down on it as omega work,” Barb sniffed. “And maybe you might think that I, a beta, would be above that kind of thing²¹―”

Steve pinched his eyebrows together, suppressing a laugh. It wasn’t really that what she was saying was funny, so much as it was painfully uncomfortable. There wasn’t really a good way to respond. He glanced at Carol, who had her entire head turned away from Barb and towards him, one of her hands blocking the expression on her face from the girls across the table.

This bitch! Her eyes broadcasted. Steve couldn’t help but agree. Barb was sitting at a table with two other omega girls and she had the audacity to say she was above omega-work? Seriously? Beyond that, beta-supremacy was not a socially acceptable stance to have in the United States²². Even if you privately held those ideals, you never said them out loud. It was a really quick way to get clawed²³.

“Barb, we don’t think that.” Luckily Nancy interjected before Carol could say anything. “You’re―Steve was just asking what you liked about Home-Ec.”

“Oh.” Barb shook herself, finally realizing she must have said something wrong. “Well, I like sewing. You know that.” She said it only to Nancy, as if it was Nancy who’d asked the question in the first place.

“Oh, that’s cool.” Steve said, still trying to salvage the conversation. “Are you going to sew your own Halloween costume, then?”

“My family doesn’t believe in celebrating Halloween.” Barb answered primly. “We don’t worship the devil.”

Steve’s eyes slid to Carol’s without meaning to. She hid her head in her hands, shaking her head as if to say, I can’t with this bitch today. Again with the crazy-ass comments . He looked away, trying his damndest not to be an ass.

“You do still dress up, though, right?” Nancy coached helpfully, sparing a worried glance at Steve. “You just do it a little differently.”

“Yes, well. We’re not crazy, we do like to have fun. We still dress up and pass out candy. We just don’t do the other stuff.”

What other stuff? Steve’s lips narrowed to a line as he had to try his best not to laugh. It was just… so awkward. Every thing he was doing to try to have a civil conversation was being blocked by Barb’s strange hostility. He could feel Carol’s hand reach out and grasp his knee under the table. What other stuff did she think there possibly was?

“What other stuff?” Carol echoed what Steve was thinking, voice purposefully light. Her face was a careful mask of blankness, but he could tell from the muscles straining in her neck that she was struggling to contain her laughter. “Didn’t you just describe…exactly how everyone else in the country celebrates Halloween?”

Steve couldn’t help it. A choked out giggle escaped his mouth and he immediately covered his entire face so he didn’t have to look at anyone.

“Maybe some of it.” Barb answered, narrowing her eyes at Steve. “But the big difference is that we don’t wear masks or worship the devil.”

“Do you…think that everyone who celebrates Halloween is worshiping the devil? ” Carol asked disbelievingly, and Steve kept his face completely hidden so he could keep it together. He felt sorry to Nance, but he couldn’t help himself. It was just something about Barb’s complete confidence the crazy ideas she was spouting mixed with Carol’s bitchy-polite tone and the overall tension at the table.

“That’s what the holiday is about. You just need to look into the history of it―”

“Maybe we could drop it?” Nancy tried weakly.

“I’m just―” Barb argued, and Steve removed his hands from his face as he finally got his wits about him. Nancy and Barb were locked in a tension-filled staredown, and he couldn’t help but feel guilty for what he’d done to make Barb feel uncomfortable.

“Hey, it’s fine, Barb.” He tired to offer an olive branch. “Everybody’s free to do what they want. I think it’s totally, you know, righteous that you’re so upfront about it.”

“Definitely righteous.” Carol muttered under her breath, and Steve could already tell she was going to follow it up with something along the lines of ‘self-righteous, that is’, so he elbowed her in the ribs. She elbowed him right back.

“You said you still dress up, though?” Steve asked, trying to change the subject. “What are you dressing up as this year?”

“Susan B. Anthony.” Barb answered proudly. Steve closed his eyes. Had to take a deep breath.

Carol didn’t try to hold her giggle in. “Are you dressed as her right now?” she asked uncharitably, and Barb bristled.

“I do not look like Susan B. Anthony. Does this look like a cuirass bodice to you?” she retorted, and Steve could tell that she really felt like she’d one-upped them there. Delivered the comeback of the century. Too bad they didn’t know what the fuck a cuirass was supposed to be.

He gripped Carol’s thigh under the table to stop what would undoubtedly be a much more vicious response. “Oh, a Kwer-ass. Got it.” he asked instead, trying his best to relieve the tension. “Do you make a lot of queer-asses? Or…”

By now, though, Barb had sensed she was on the butt end of a joke, and she was not happy about it. Her back went straight and she glared at him. “You don’t have to make fun of me. I know period costuming isn’t cool, but it’s actually something I’m passionate about. And I don’t have to sit here being made fun of by some retard who got a 27% on the last history test.”

She stood, turning to Nancy as she grabbed her tray. “By the way, Nance? No. I don’t think so.”

Nancy looked stricken by whatever that last phrase meant. It seemed like it was in reference to some earlier conversation the rest of the group didn’t know about, but she made no move to explain. She just sat there, stunned, as Barb stormed off.

“Alright.” Carol said, already pulling her hair back as she glared at Barb’s retreating back. “She asked for it.”

And shit. Steve physically pulled her back into her chair. “Do not fight her, please.” He begged as she fought to stand back up. “The last thing I need is for you to get suspended again.”

“She’s asking for it! That fucking bitch. Where the hell does she get off, calling you retarded? Total fucking bitch.” Carol spat, vibrating with rage. “I hate that word. You know I hate that word.”

Steve did. Everybody did, which was why it was so rare to hear the word said around Hawkins High. Carol’s younger sister had Down Syndrome, and as she’d watched her sister start school and struggle with bullying, she’d gotten more and more protective until even just hearing the word ‘retard’ became an instant button that would set her right off. Eventually, after more fights than Steve could count, people learned not to say the word around her.

“And you’re not retarded, Steve.” She added, looking at him earnestly. “Just because you bombed one History test doesn’t mean anything. Don’t listen to her.”

“I am so sorry. ” Nancy apologized as well, eyes wide. “I promise I had no idea she would be so rude―I better go after her. I’m so sorry, Steve.”

With that, she scurried off in the direction of her friend, leaving Steve and Carol in the dust. Steve poked his fork into his half-eaten mashed potatoes, not wanting to face the I told you so look Carol was sporting. He felt her sneakered foot nudge his calf.

“So…” She started, voice hesitant. “...So, it’s about time to call it quits with the princess, right? And I’ll hook you up with my friend Sharon at Tommy’s party?”

Steve blinked at her, uncomprehending. “What? No. What? Why would it be time to call it quits?”

Carol gave him a strange look, her head tilting slightly in confusion. The movement made a single, perfectly curled strand of hair to fall into her eyes. “Because the person she ran after to comfort was the the fat cow and not you? Because she’s she’s a judgmental twat? Because she spent all of gym class complaining about your date? And now the whole school knows about it?”

She did what? “Who told you that?”

“Nicole overheard it. Apparently she was going on and on about how embarrassing it was that you brought candles to a fast food joint and hung out with her little brother. Like that’s something to complain about. Little miss princess can’t take that our Stevie is a sweetheart. Like, seriously, fuck her. I’m telling you, Sharon’s great. Real sweet, kinda quiet but she’ll open up if you start talking with her…”

“I’m not breaking up with Nancy.” Steve interrupted, feeling shaken. So Nancy had been spreading around the school that he’d been a bad date to her? She’d been put off by the romantic stuff he’d done? Okay, admittedly he could kind of understand why she didn’t like the candles and tablecloth. It was probably too grand a gesture, and it likely made it worse that Eddie had to come tell them not to light an open flame.

But she was seriously mad about him hanging out with the kids? While he was waiting for her to get ready? “Also, she took a fucking long time getting ready. It was either hang out with the kids playing a board game or watch old sitcoms with her catatonic dad. Sorry I chose the option that seemed slightly more fun. I didn’t know becoming friends with someone’s family was off-limits .”

Carol smiled, and there was something in it that said, There’s our Steve. It should’ve stopped Steve in his tracks, and if he was feeling a little less angry, it would’ve. He didn’t want be back to his old, petty, King Steve self. He’d thought that he’d matured past it. But right now, he couldn’t help it.

He was so mad. He’d worked hard on that date! He’d asked for her input, tried to make it special, did his best to make conversation, went with the flow…and she was mad at him for, what? For being a good person? For giving a couple of kids a ride home? Fuck her. He was―he was trying his best. He gave her flowers, made sure to hold the door open for her…he even complimented her on her hair! Remembered the little details of her life. He did everything he could to be a good boyfriend and still it was never enough.

Nothing he does was ever enough for her. “Like, fine. She doesn’t like my dates. Well, then she can plan a date for once. Make things romantic. Why is it always me making the effort, you know? Like, has she ever given me a compliment? Ever brought me a coffee in the morning like I do for her all the time? And I’m happy to do that for her―I am! But Jesus Christ. What’s a guy gotta do to get some gratitude once in a while?”

Carol nodded along, adding her two cents in when it was appropriate. She was a good listener, actually. Validated everything he was saying and never tried to play the devil’s advocate. There was one thing, though, that made him a little worried. A comment she made at the very end of his rant. “Yeah, no, seriously. I totally agree. Don’t worry, Steve-o. I’ll handle it.”

“You don’t need to,” he was quick to say. “Like, really. I’m just ranting. I don’t want you to actually do anything.”

“No. I know.” Carol shrugged, with a smile that didn’t make him any less worried. “I gotcha.”

――――――――――――――――

By the time he got to his last period of the day, he was a regretful mess. Why had he thought that it was a good idea to confide in Carol, of all people? The school’s resident crazy bitch. She was going to fucking key Nancy’s car or something, and then Steve would take the blame for it, and it would be the Nancy “the Slut” Wheeler all over again.

He was an idiot. He was an idiot. Barb was right, he probably did have something majorly wrong with his brain.

English―his last-period class―always made him feel even worse about himself, too. The teacher, Ms. Tartaglia, was one of those “cool” teachers who managed to get kids to like them by making fun of the ones who acted out. She was young and pretty, with giant curly blonde hair and stylish clothing that contrasted with these horn-rimmed old-lady glasses she always wore. She usually liked the male students, and seemed to like the attention she got from them. Not Steve, though. He wasn't sure what he'd done, but he'd been on her bad side from day one. She constantly made him the butt of her jokes. He tried to take it in stride―he really did. Arguing with her would only make things worse, and saying it hurt his feelings would make him look like a little bitch, so. 

So, he did his best to act like it didn’t bother him. To laugh it off when the teacher made fun of him for not paying attention, or called on him specifically because she knew he hadn’t done the readings, or made a joke at his expense. But sometimes, like today, it was hard to act like he was fine. Especially not with Barb’s words and his own earlier mistakes gnawing at him.

“Okay, Steve? Want to finish us off with the last paragraph?” Ms. Tartaglia said. It wasn't really a question so much as an impatient demand. They’d spent the first half of class or so reading A Midsummer Night’s Dream, and Steve had successfully avoided being called on to read until now. He’d been hoping to be able to spend the class period in silence, but it looked like the teacher had other plans. 

“Not really,” he mumbled. He hated reading in front of the class. It was bad enough that he was borderline illiterate. He didn’t need everyone else to know that, too.

“Great. Thank you so much for volunteering.” The teacher didn't let him off easy. Steve scanned the page, trying to figure out where he needed to read. He’d been trying to read along with everyone, but it was hard to stop the words from getting jumbled up together.

“Um…where…?” He eventually had to ask, and there were muffled chuckles from around the room. Ms. Tartaglia rolled her eyes.

“The last paragraph. I just told you.” She said, and the class laughed a little louder. Steve flushed.

At least I’m not retarded, Barb’s voice sounded in his head.

“I’ll read the last paragraph, Ms. T.” A voice sounded. Steve's head whipped to the sound of the voice --Eddie, again. Oh yeah, they did have this class together. Why was Eddie helping him, though? Wasn’t he still mad at him? He’d totally ignored Steve in study hall again, so Steve figured they were still on bad terms. The alpha’s face was neutral, but Steve could see the way his knee twitched nervously. His face was bright red.

“Come on, it’s one of the best ones. We gotta do it with style!” Eddie insisted, smiling brightly. Ms. Tartaglia rolled her eyes again, this time with great affection. She grinned, waving a hand in permission.

“Okay, fine, Eddie. Take it away.”

Eddie grinned, glancing over at Steve with a hopeful little expression before launching into the monologue. Huh. What did that look mean?

Eddie gave a little flourish as he stood, tossing his head back dramatically. His hair bounced around his face, just long enough to hit his chin. “If we shadows have offended, Think but this ―and all is mended―that you have but slumber'd here, while these visions did appear…”

It was captivating. Steve had to give props where it was due, Eddie definitely had a flair for the dramatic. His inflection, facial shifts, gestures- they made the monologue something poetic and captivating, rather than the confusing gibberish Steve always associated with Shakespeare. That was a kind of gift, too. One he hadn't appreciated during his first life. He'd always seen it as dramatic, weird, or attention-seeking before. In fact, Bobby Davis was trying to catch Steve's eye right now, eager to share mean looks between themselves about how weird Eddie was. Steve ignored them. Fuck Bobby Davis, Eddie’d saved Steve from complete and total humiliation when he was already having a bad day. This wasn’t Eddie wanting attention at all. It was him falling on the sword so Steve didn’t have to.

And he was actually good at it. Obviously Steve remembered that Eddie’d always been good at reading. He had a flair for the dramatic, so whenever it was his turn to read it was a welcome break to everyone else’s monotone voices. But Steve had never really noticed in the way he was noticing now. Eddie lit up, standing there in a too-bright classroom, pacing on a chipped linoleum floor. The way his hands flourished and his voice went all deep and booming…it was incredible to watch. 

Suddenly, a thought struck him. Had he…had Eddie done this the first time around? Volunteered to read in front of the class so Steve didn’t have to? Steve couldn’t remember. If there had been anything of the sort, Steve hadn’t registered it for the kind gesture it was, which felt…unfair.

“Else the Puck a liar call: so, good night unto you all. Give me your hands, if we be friends, and Robin shall restore amends.” With the final lines, Eddie gave a dramatic bow, and Steve joined the teacher in giving him an enthusiastic round of applause. The rest of the class joined in reluctantly, giving a barely audible courtesy clap.

“Thank you, Eddie! That was a brilliant performance.” Ms. Tartaglia praised. “And a great segue into our next project. We’ll be continuing on with Shakespeare until the break, and the next work we’ll be focusing on is called Othello…” she continued to explain a little bit more about Othello, and Steve understood very little of it. All he really got was that it was a tragedy and somehow also racist. “...in the meantime, I’m going to have you all work on a group project to help you see some of the literary process behind these plays.”

And, shit. Steve remembered this project. The bright pink rubrics almost gave him war flashbacks. One of of his most embarrassing moments in the entirety of his high school career happened because of this very project.

The project itself was the kind that seemed specifically designed for public humiliation. The task was to choose an already existing story in either mythology or history, and adapt a scene of it into a Shakespearian play. There were to be couplets in iambic pentameter, and then they were supposed to perform the play together as a group.

Public humiliation.

The first time around, Steve had partnered with Bobby Davis, his buddy from the baseball team. They were probably the closest friends out of anyone in the class, so it seemed like the obvious choice. They’d mostly blown off the project. Bobby’d never seemed to want to work on it, and Steve had been too burnt out on the Upside Down shit to really care. He pieced together a couple of subpar couplets and figured he and Bobby would just have to figure out how to wing it closer to the due date.

Well, the due date finally came―a week before Christmas break―and Bobby got ‘sick with the flu’. He didn’t even show up. So, Steve was forced to give the presentation on his own. With his fucking inability to read and a teacher that didn’t mind making him a public spectacle.

It would go in history as one of the most embarrassing moments of his life. He was still pretty sure that part of the reason his popularity had taken a nosedive senior year was because of that fucking project and some choice comments the teacher made about his relationship with Nancy.

It was especially bad because he’d gone right after Eddie Munson―who hadn’t even had a partner, but who’d still managed to pull off this epic monologue with costumes and everything. The whole class had been speechless in awe. Even the people who usually gave Munson shit couldn’t find it in them to make fun of him. So when Steve’d had to follow it up with his pathetic little index cards he couldn’t even manage to read properly, he’d looked even more stupid in comparison.

Well, if he was going to change anything from the past, he was going to change this fucking project. There was no way in hell he was partnering with Bobby Davis again. No way in hell. 

Steve glanced over at Eddie, catching his eye for the first time all day. The alpha startled like he’d been caught doing something forbidden, and immediately spun his head back around to stare at the wall. Hm. So he was still mad.

Steve didn’t let it phase him. He was going to be Eddie’s partner for this project, whether the guy liked it or not. He set his jaw determinedly. He had no competition. He could make it happen.

“At least six lines must be in iambic pentameter.” The teacher finished up her explanation. Steve’s knee bounced, his weight already on his toes. “Does everyone remember what that is? Harrington? Do you need me to explain it to you again?”

Steve’s cheeks flushed as he scowled. He would never fucking understand iambic pentameter, but that didn’t matter because he’d have Eddie to do all the heavy lifting. “No.”

“Alright. Then go ahead, now. Pick your partners.” She said, and Steve went off like a shot to the back of the room. In an instant, he glommed onto Edde, scooching the nearest empty desk next to him and offering a friendly smile. Eddie gave him a weird look, but luckily didn’t actively push him away. So far so good.

“Do you wanna be partners?” Steve asked, trying to show off his most charming grin. Say yes, he chanted in his head. Just say yes.

“Are you sure you want me as a partner?” Eddie asked instead, “Thought for sure you’d want be with another jock.”

“Nah, that’s overrated.” Steve waved a hand dismissively. “Besides, you seem pretty cool.”

Eddie looked like he didn’t believe him for a second, so Steve added, “Thanks for covering me earlier. Doing the reading. I really wasn’t in the mood.”

The words made Eddie ease up a bit. His shoulders sagged and his resistance visibly diminished. “Oh―you?―no problem.” He pulled a lock of hair in front of his face. “Just me being a show-off.”

“Just you saving my ass!” Steve corrected enthusiastically. “Tartaglia has it out for me. I know she was asking me to read just because she wanted me to look stupid.”

“I think she just wanted you to participate…” Eddie gave a weak defense before shaking his head. “But, um. Yeah. Anytime. I noticed you’re not a big fan of reading.”

“Yeah, I hate it.” Steve agreed. “Don’t get me wrong. I think it’s cool that you like it! Like, smart…and stuff. But it’s just never really agreed with me. I just can’t get into it.”

Eddie huffed a laugh. Steve half expected him to deny being smart―during their time together fighting Vecna, he’d tried to compliment the guy on his brains a couple of times but it was always shut down immediately. I’m twenty and still in high school, Harrington. Can’t exactly call that smart.

But he didn’t. His cheeks tinted pink and he answered shyly, “Yeah, I―I like English. It’s one of the few things I’m good at.”

Steve felt his heart split in two. One of the few things he's good at? “You’re good at other things, too, like your guitar, and D&D, and―”

“How did you know I play guitar?” Eddie interrupted, and Steve pulled up short. Oh yeah, he wasn’t supposed to know that.

Why did he keep doing this to himself? “Oh, um―I…didn’t you have a band?”

Eddie narrowed his eyes at him, as if studying him suspiciously, but eventually let up. “Yeah, if you want to call it that. It’s kinda disbanded, though, for the time being. Creative differences.”

Steve debated asking what happened. He wanted to know―he’d always been kind of a naturally nosey person, and the mystery surrounding Eddie’s friendships was especially interesting. He didn’t want to make it seem like he was prying too much, though.

Before he could make up his mind whether to ask or not, Eddie changed the subject. “Okay, so…the project. It needs to be about mythology or history. Do you have a preference? Any general topic you’re interested in?”

“Time travel,” Steve answered right away, because of course he was still interested in that the most. “Like someone going back in time to save someone’s life and stuff.”

Eddie’s mouth twisted into a grin. “Time travel,” he repeated. 

“Yeah―or, like…someone who goes back in time to save their relationship.” Steve clarifies. “Pretty much anything like that. Do you know anything?”

“What’s got you so into it?” Eddie answered, still smiling.

“I’m, uh…it’s an idea I have for a movie.” That was at least a half-decent excuse, right?

 “Oh, so the King has a creative bone in his body. Color me surprised.” Eddie leaned back in his seat, raising a skeptical brow. “What’s it about?”

“It’s, um…” Steve panicked, his mind going blank. “...you know. about a guy who goes back in time.”

“Hm. Interesting concept.” Munson smiled, and Steve couldn’t help but notice how attractive it was, almost sly. It was weird. He’d noticed that Eddie was an attractive guy before, periodic shocks of ‘wow, his lips are really big for a dude.’ The normal things people noticed when they were trapped in a small space together for a couple days. But this time it made his heart stutter in his chest. “I’d love to read it sometime.”

Steve nodded, feeling a warmth expand in his chest. This might be the perfect way to have someone actually smart give him advice on things.

“Unfortunately,” Eddie said, tapping his pencil on the desk and interrupting Steve’s line of thought, “I don’t know of any Greek myths about time travel. The thing that comes to mind the most when you said ‘saving someone’s relationship’ is the story of Eurydice, but there’s no time travel involved.”

“What’s it about?”

“A guy who goes into the Underworld. Basically Orpheus and Eurydice were two people who were in love. Eurydice died, and Orpheus was so distraught that he decided to go to the Underworld to reclaim her. In the end, Hades offered him a deal. Orpheus would lead Eurydice out, and she would walk behind him. If he ever looked back at her, she would have to stay dead and the deal was off. So he had to  walk in front of her and never look back. Anyways, I don’t remember why―but something happened and right at the end, Orpheus looked back. And Eurydice was lost forever.”

“That sucks.” Steve immediately hated it. “What’s the point of a story that doesn’t have a happy ending? And why the hell would Orpheus look back? He literally had one job.”

“I think that’s kind of the lesson. ‘Don’t look back’. You can’t change the past, so you shouldn’t waste your life trying. Something like that. Or maybe that sometimes you do everything you can, and you still can’t save everyone. The Underworld has its quota to meet.”

“Well, no. We’re definitely not doing that one. It’s depressing.” Steve decided. “There’s nothing where someone successfully saves someone from the Underworld?”

Eddie shook his head. “Nothing comes to mind. I guess I still have some books I stole― borrowed from the library. I can look through them and see if there’s anything along the lines of what you’re thinking.”

Steve grinned. “Thanks, man! I can do, uh, other stuff. What do you think needs to be done?”

“If we could just meet to plan it out, that would be great.” Eddie answered with a shrug. “I’m thinking your main asset will be your piggy bank, honestly. It’ll be a lot cooler of a project if we have sweet props.”

“I can help make stuff, too.” Steve offered. The next few minutes were spent trying to schedule a time to meet. By the looks of it, it’d be easiest to meet at Steve’s house, but they weren’t sure what time, yet.

“Hm, let me think. I work tonight 'til close, but maybe tomorrow? I could―” Eddie tapped his pen to his lips as he considered the best course of action.

Steve blinked. “You work tonight? Halloween? That’s, like, criminal! That can’t make you work on your―on Halloween!”

He just barely stopped himself from saying ‘your favorite holiday’. He remembered Dustin going on and on about all the cool stuff Eddie had planned for their Halloween D&D session in 1985. Apparently, he tried to out-do himself every year, creating more and more elaborate parties and D&D heists. Apparently, he’d done the 1984 Hellfire game in an abandoned building, lit only by flashlights. Given that the freshmen would be there in 1985, they’d instead opted to do it at the trailer, but apparently, Eddie’d decorated the place to be an entire haunted house, basically, and let them shoot fireworks in the gravel driveway.

But apparently 1983 he was just working. It seemed wrong, somehow.

Eddie shrugged. “I didn’t really have anything going on. Figured it would be better to keep busy than just sit at home feeling sorry for myself.”

“You should come to Tommy’s party with me!” Steve offered immediately, giving the same spiel he’d been giving everyone all day. “It’s gonna be great. Tommy got a keg and a bunch of other people are bringing beer, too. There’ll be games and costumes―it’ll be fun! Plus, you can keep me company since Nancy’s not gonna be there. It’ll be fun―the two of us, no girls allowed...”

Eddie gave a strangled laugh.  “I heard you say that to Simon, too.”

…And? What was the problem with that? “Hm? I said it to everyone. It’s my…you know, my spiel. Tommy wanted me to make sure people came.”

“Oh, people are gonna come alright.” Eddie’s lips thinned and his mouth went wobbly, like he was trying to hold in a laugh. “How many alphas did you say that same thing to? About keeping you company?”

Was that a weird thing to say? He reviewed it over in his mind, before realizing where the problem might be. “Oh, come on. I don’t mean it like that!” He insisted, lightly slapping Eddie’s arm for emphasis. “Not in a gay way; just as friends. Everybody knows I don’t mean it as that.”

Eddie still had that look like he was holding in a laugh. “Yeah, Steve. I’m sure they do.”

Steve could tell the alpha didn’t believe him, but he didn’t want to make it an argument. It didn’t really matter what Eddie thought; Steve knew his friends didn’t take it that way. That was the kind of thing they didn’t let you live down. They’d be calling him gay for weeks. 

“Anyways, you should totally come. I bet you’d make way more money sell―” he paused, catching himself as he realized they were still in class. “Um. You could think of it as a business thing.”

“Ohhhh, now I see. You just want me for my goods.” Eddie raised his brows mockingly. “I’m crushed.”

Steve slapped his arm again. “I don’t―” Well, honestly he had promised Tommy he’d get weed for the party. But now it felts strange to admit. “I don’t care about that. I just want to hang out with you. Show you my costume.”

Now, Eddie outright laughed. “Is that part of the spiel, too?”

“I told you, it’s not like that!”

Eddie just smiled, and Steve couldn’t help but get caught in the way his eyes sparkled and crinkled at the edges. Eddie had the kind of movie star smile that made you instantly fall a bit in love with him, and it took Steve the tiniest bit off guard. Oh, he thought, feeling the pieces fall into place. This is why Chrissy fell for him so quickly.

He hadn’t really believed Dustin when the kid went on about how Chrissy and Eddie were star-crossed lovers, bound together in death. It seemed just a little too cheesy, even after Dustin told him that Eddie’d dedicated his final song to the girl.

That’s probably just because she died in front of him, dude. It doesn’t have to be a romantic thing. He’d said, but Dustin had insisted. Had waxed poetic about the tragic tale of Eddie and Chrissy’s connection in the woods, how Eddie’d clearly had a crush on her. He’d talked about how obvious it was that Chrissy would fall for Eddie, but it had never seemed that obvious to Steve. Chrissy had a boyfriend. She was the head of the cheerleading squad. What could she have possibly seen in Eddie?

Now he was starting to see it.

“Sure, Stevie. I believe you.” Eddie answered teasingly, leaning in just close enough that Steve could smell his sandalwood scent. He gulped, feeling a bit like his skin was buzzing and a little too hot.

It was 1983. Chrissy was single, and no love stories had to end in tragedy.

Maybe, Steve thought, I should set the two of them up.

17. “Both alphas and omegas develop the ability to drop their fangs after presentation. As shown in diagram iv, a/o people’s canines and lateral incisors are much sharper than those of a beta’s. When they present, an a/o person’s venom gland develops in the space above their canine teeth. When it fills, their canines are pushed downwards, giving them the appearance of exaggerated fangs. This filling and deflating of the venom gland can be done at will, but socially is usually done only in cases of either sexual arousal or aggression.” A Beta’s Guide to Alphas and Omegas, Chapter 1:  Biological Differences Between Alphas, Omegas, and Betas: An Overview.

“For unpresented a/o people insecure about their lack of presentation, or for betas who want to roleplay as either an alpha or omega, realistic “fake fangs” (plastic fang-looking teeth that can be glued to one’s canines) can be easily purchased as most supermarkets” ―A Beta’s Guide to Alphas and Omegas, Chapter 16: Living as a Beta in an A/O World: Barriers and Benefits.   return to text

18. “So, the question remains…were early accounts of werewolves and vampires simply the result of isolated beta communities’ exposure to early a/o people? Or was it something else? The question remains debated among the academic community, but the evidence points to a strong possibility that it could be the case.” ―A Beta’s Guide to Alphas and Omegas, Chapter 8: Tension Brewing: Early Alphas, Omegas, and Betas. return to text

19.“The common belief in today’s society is that omegas are biologically built to be stay-at-home-mothers. As such, omega education is required to prepare them for that role. In high school, when people are still presenting, this typically looks like a required home economics class. In college, however, the gap becomes more pronounced. Particularly in the 1970’s and 1980’s, if an omega went to college it was almost always to an all-omega finishing school meant to prepare them for marriage. The Pro-mega movements in the 1990’s opened up many educational opportunities for omegas…” A Beta’s Guide to Alphas and Omegas, Chapter 10: A/O Historical Milestones: 1900 to Today.  return to text

20. “The old wive’s tale that the foods you crave before presentation does have some limited truth to it. Studies show that those who craved sweet foods prior to presentation presented as alphas slightly more than those who had no cravings, or who craved salty foods. A similar study found that those about to present as omegas do not seem to crave one particular flavor, but instead seem to develop an oral fixation.” A Beta’s Guide to Alphas and Omegas, Chapter 14: Modern Myths: Cycle-Zodiac, Stereotypes, and More.  return to text

21. “Though the traditional mindset is that alphas are at the top of a hierarchy and omegas at the bottom, with betas falling in the middle, this is a very limited perspective that fails to take into account all factors….Omegas are typically more desired by men of both [secondary] genders, for example…However, because betas are afforded more freedoms, educational opportunities, and career opportunities, they are often seen as “better” than omegas. This, of course, is untrue and based in anti-omega sentiment.” ―A Beta’s Guide to Alphas and Omegas, Chapter 16: Living as a Beta in an A/O World: Barriers and Benefits. return to text

22. “With a little over 70% of the population being either an alpha or omega, the United States has been rated one of the best places for an a/o person to live in the developed world. In contrast, it’s been rated as one of the least beta-friendly places in the developed world, especially given that many other developed nations have majority beta populations.” ―A Beta’s Guide to Alphas and Omegas, Chapter 9: A/O People Around the Globe. return to text

23. “For a/o people, the saying ‘the claws came out’ is extremely literal, given that both alphas and omegas have retractable claws.” ―A Beta’s Guide to Alphas and Omegas, Chapter 1: Biological Differences Between Alphas, Omegas, and Betas: An Overview.  return to text

Chapter Text

. . .

The First 1983

“Stay Gold, Ponyboy” was the theme of Steve’s night on Halloween, 1983. He and the rest of his friend group had excitedly coordinated a group costume of the characters from The Outsiders a couple days before, and everyone’d rushed to call dibs on their favorite characters. Tommy got Ponyboy, Carol was Cherry, Simon was Matt Dillon, Matt got Sodapop, Archie: Patrick Swayze, and Dan Shelter got Tom Cruise. Steve’d been basically forced into the role of Johnny, because everyone said the two were exactly the same―same hair, same innocent air, and both unpresented. He’d agreed, mostly because he was a people-pleaser at heart, but also because the denim-on-denim outfit seemed like an easy costume.

He should’ve expected the famous quote to follow him everywhere. Whispered by Matt Raggio after a game of spin-the-bottle had forced them to kiss. Whistled by Tommy when Steve’s answer for “how many notches were in his bedpost” was higher than ten. (It was a lie; which was against the rules in a truth or dare game, but admitting he was still a virgin was social suicide so he chose an answer that he guessed would be believable). Sung as a rousing cheer when he beat the Keg King record. Laughed mockingly when he got sick all over Tommy’s shoes and had to leave the party early.

It was the last thing he heard before he fell asleep, too. Tommy’s voice, soft and fond, as he ruffled Steve’s hair. Steve felt completely warm and cozy, in Tommy’s softest flannel pajamas, tucked in with the covers up by his ears.

“Stay gold, Ponyboy.” Tommy chuckled, “Have a good night’s sleep.”

. . .

Steve ended up going with a simple vampire costume after all. It just seemed like the easiest option, especially after he’d found an old black cape in his basement, leftover from a costume in elementary school. It was definitely too small, now, barely reaching past his elbows, but it gave a vague effect of vampire-ness, so he figured it worked. He kept his hair loose and fluffy; he wasn’t about to slick back his best feature.

He wore a white dress shirt and black slacks which made his ass look nice, and spent probably way too much time on his makeup. Not because he did an amazing job at it, but largely because he kept having to wash it off and start over; he was an alpha, he wasn’t used to this kind of thing²⁴.

The eye makeup was the hardest, and the worst part was that it didn’t ever wash fully off. So every time he restarted, his eyes just got blacker and blacker. In the end, he gave up, hoping he’d be able to pass off the menacing result as something intentional. The fangs were easy to install onto his canines, if a bit clunky-feeling in his mouth, and he finished it off with some lipstick as fake blood, dripping down his chin and neck and to a…bite mark? Would that make sense?

That was how vampires got turned, right? They got bitten? So maybe he could affect a mark there with some lipstick…at least that was his thought process. The final product looked like a kindergartner had done it, so he tried to wash it off…and ended up with a smudged red spot there instead²⁵ because apparently makeup was impossible to fully remove.

Whatever. The collar of his shirt covered it up when it was fully buttoned, so it didn’t matter too much. 

Besides, who was he trying to impress? Eddie? He probably wasn’t even coming. Steve had worked in the service industry, so he knew what it was like. He knew how hard it was to get holidays off last minute. The chances of Eddie showing up at all were slim. And even if he did show up, it would be late and Steve’s costume would be mostly ruined by sweat by that point, so. It was pointless to be a perfectionist about it.

Still. His heart couldn’t help but beat a little faster when he imagined Eddie appreciating the costume. The alpha staring at Steve, stunned that he could clean up so nicely.

Not that he cared about Eddie’s approval. He didn’t. He just…it was just…it was kind of hard to justify it in his mind, actually. Because the truth was, he did kind of care about getting his approval. There just wasn’t a good reason for it…maybe because Eddie was older than him? But Dan Shelter was older than Steve, too, and he didn’t care about that guy’s opinion. And, technically speaking, Steve’s mind was about a year older than both of them, so it definitely wasn’t that.

Maybe it was because Eddie seemed like the type of guy to really be into Halloween…? Steve played around with the idea in his mind and found he didn’t have any rebuttals, so figured that must be it. He just wanted to get the approval from Eddie, Mr. Master of Halloween himself. Yep. That was it.

Whatever the reason, it didn’t really matter. His costume ended up getting ruined long before Eddie arrived to the party, just as he’d expected.

The thing was, Tommy’s house was hot. Steve could feel the way his makeup dripped down his face, and once when he went to wipe some sweat off of himself, his hand came back red, which meant the lipstick blood was now just a weird smear running half up his cheek. The house was absolutely packed with people. The original 1983 party had already been full, but now there was probably double the attendance. The entirety of Hawkins High was crammed into the Hagan’s little neighborhood home. So, with so many bodies crushed together, the house quickly became sweltering.

Steve was glad his recruitment efforts had been worth it, at least. Tommy seemed thrilled at the turnout, and even happier when he saw how many kids had brought their own beer and snacks. There was more than enough food to go around, and everyone seemed to be in good spirits.

A lot of people were following Steve around for some reason, though. He couldn’t help but be a little annoyed at the way everyone seemed to be constantly looking for his attention. Like, sure. He’d invited them. And sure, he had said the thing about wanting company. But he hadn’t expected so many people to take it seriously! He'd thought they would show up and then naturally spend time with their friends or picking up chicks. Why did they all want to hang out with Steve? He wasn't even friends with half of these people. It seemed like no matter where he went, people swarmed him like flies.

The cape was the next thing to go―the cheap polyester retained a lot of heat, and Steve's skin beneath it clung to the fabric wetly. He laid it on the arm of a couch at some point, intending to put it back on, and completely forgot about it.

The shirt didn’t come off, exactly, but it did end up getting unbuttoned all the way after he’d danced with Simon to a couple of songs. The heat was just too much to deal with. He ended up dunking some of the bobbing-for-apples-water all over himself just to get some kind of relief from it.

“Why don’t we go outside? It’s probably cooler there,” Simon suggested, almost yelling in his ear to be heard. But Steve only shook his head. As much as he knew Eddie probably wasn’t going to show up, he still wanted to have an eye on the front door, just in case. He didn’t want to miss him.

So he stuck to the living room, which had a sort of half-mosh pit going on, the dining room, which was full of party games, and the kitchen at the absolute farthest―but only as far as the island, where he could snack on pretzel sticks with the door just barely in his line of sight.

Eddie didn’t show up for a while. Which sucked, because Steve was getting a little sick of hanging out with these fake-ass friends.

Like…obviously it had been nice, at first, to have his friends back. And he was still kind of happy to have them back because it was much better than being forced to be alone. But the honeymoon phase was definitely wearing off by now, and Steve was starting to get sick of how much they fawned over him―especially since he knew they’d turn around and ditch him soon.

Archie made a comment early on about having another party after Steve’s presentation, and it just completely soured Steve’s mood. Because despite how nice everyone was acting now, there had never been any kind of a post-presentation party. Steve’s first rut had been spent at home, getting in fights with his dad, and when he’d shown up at school no one had congratulated him on finally being an adult. No one had commented on his new scent, talked about the new things to expect as an alpha, took him under their wing…it was just radio silence.

And sometimes he wanted to cuss them out about it, was all. Wanted to show up with a new and improved group of friends who did care about him and have some kind of after-school-special moment where he decided once and for all to stop caring about his old friends' opinions of him. That he was better now, confident in himself, and now he had genuine friends who weren't going to leave him at the drop of a hat.

But it turned out Steve was weaker than even the cheesy after-school-special kids. Because he couldn’t do it. No matter what, he still cared about people’s opinions of him. Even back in the original timeline when he did get that new friend group (kind of) in the form of the kids and Robin, it wasn’t like he could rub it in anyone’s face. He knew they’d only laugh at him.

And despite everything, even in the moments when he wanted to snap and tell people off for being fake friends…he found that he couldn’t. It was like some strange instinct took over―fight or flight, except that it was some weird third one where he just became extra nice and let people walk all over him.

So despite his quickly souring mood at the little comments and fake-friendly gestures, and Matt Raggio constantly in his space for some reason―Steve still found himself smiling, making jokes, pretending everything was okay.

The party was still fun. It was. Well, it would be if he could get his annoying emotions under control. He was supposed to be finally taking a night off from stressing about changing the timeline. He was supposed to be turning his brain off, having fun, savoring the chance to be a normal teen. Somehow, though, no matter how many times he told himself to do that, it never stuck. He could never quite get his emotions in order.

“Come on, Steve! Live a little! Come play with us.” Matt said, hand somehow managing to slide all the way down Steve’s back and almost over his ass as the guy directed him to play spin-the-bottle. Steve gritted his teeth into a smile and tried not to make a big deal out of it.

It wasn’t Matt’s fault that Steve was a little bit broken after everything had happened with the Upside Down. It wasn’t his fault that the crash of noise and warring scents and unexpected touches made Steve’s nerves jump. That even normal touches became something that made his skin crawl.

Luckily, the spin-the-bottle game was a little removed from the rest of the party, taking place in the dining room, which had doors they could use to close off from the sounds of the music of the living room. It was still packed, but when Steve joined the circle, no one was touching his back, which was all he could hope for.

Chrissy sat opposite of him, looking much the same as she had when he’d known her in the first timeline. She’d presented young²⁶, so unlike Robin, the only difference in her appearance that Steve could really notice was that she didn’t have bangs. She looked cute. Kind of an innocent, baby-faced look that Steve had never really been into, but he imagined Eddie would like it. He tried to see her through Eddie’s eyes, catch the traits Eddie might like. Her elf-like nose, maybe. The big doe eyes. The red blush of her cheeks.

“You know, if you try to go for Chrissy I think I’m duty-bound to stop you,” Simon whispered in Steve’s ear, and he startled at the contact. He’d forgotten the alpha was sitting there.

“What?”

“Since she’s best friends with my little brother. And she doesn’t have any siblings. Someone’s gotta protect her honor.” Simon’s lips quirked up, and Steve’s eyes followed the little nod of the alpha’s head until he saw Patrick sitting there next to Chrissy, engaged in deep conversation. Huh. Had they been friends? Steve hadn’t really paid attention before.

“I’m not into her, don’t worry.” Steve brushed it off, shaking himself out of whatever fog he’d been in and returning his attention to the group. It was currently Jason Carver’s turn, and he was making a big stink about how he needed a re-spin. Apparently, his spin had landed on Dan and even though Jason hadn’t presented yet, he still didn’t feel comfortable “tempting God’s hand” by kissing an alpha male²⁷.

In the end, nobody really wanted to argue with him, so he was allowed to re-spin. It landed on Marge, a homely girl with coke-bottle glasses and a face full of braces. She sat right next to Chrissy, and Steve could see the way Jason’s eyes moved between them, calculating if he could get away with fooling the group.

“Oh, Chrissy, looks like it’s on you,” Jason said predictably, and Steve rolled his eyes. It was clearly on Marge. Nobody else seemed like they were about to call him out on it, but Steve was still bitter about the whole ‘getting the whole town to hunt down Eddie and the kids’ thing so he wasn’t about to do the guy any favors.

“Dude, it’s obviously on Marge. Stop being such a pussy and just follow the rules.” He said, sealing Jason’s fate.

Come to think of it, maybe this really was sealing Jason’s fate, in a way. From what Steve remembered, Jason and Chrissy had started dating around Christmas of that same year, just a couple of months after the Halloween party. Had this game been the catalyst for their romantic interest? It was hard to tell.

It was Simon’s turn to spin next, and he actually ended up landing on Chrissy. They both made dramatic noises about how grossed out they were. “Ew, he’s basically like my brother!” Chrissy complained loudly, and Simon did his best to stall the kiss as long as possible.

They kept it relatively chaste, but the kiss still lingered. The drag of their lips as they pulled apart seemed reluctant even from where Steve sat. Chrissy’s cheeks colored pink, and Simon gulped as he returned to Steve’s side, rubbing his lips in a way that almost looked thoughtful.

Hm. Steve was glad Eddie wasn’t there to see that.

Steve’s spin landed on Matt, and he went to re-spin on reflex, forgetting for a moment that he hadn’t presented as an alpha yet. A thick hand grabbed his wrist to stop him, and Steve jolted back at the contact.

Matt grinned, but it didn’t quite meet his eyes. There was a dangerous look hidden there. A hint of a threat Steve might’ve missed if he hadn’t been trained to notice it in the soldiers who’d come to help them fight the monsters of the Upside Down. There were a lot of good guys among the soldiers. A lot of kids Steve’s age, who were clearly in over their heads.

But there were some you learned to avoid. Some who liked the carnage a little too much. Matt had that same look in his eye, and it left Steve shaken.

Suddenly, he was extremely sure he didn’t want to kiss the guy. Not even a peck.

“What, Harrington?” Matt joked. “Am I not pretty enough for you?”

“Yeah, what about the rules? ” Jason added, clearly rooting for Steve’s downfall.

Steve just quirked up a brow, hiding the stark jolt of panic he’d felt under a casual smile. “I’m not a sinner who’d tempt God’s hand,” he answered, throwing Jason’s words back at him.

Luckily it got enough of a laugh that he was able to re-spin without any more complaints. It landed on Nicole, who smiled eagerly as he approached. She was a bit of a slobbery kisser, but at least it was better than Matt.

The game of spin-the-bottle got old pretty quickly after that, and it was Arnie who suggested they make it a truth-or-dare game instead. They kept the bottle, but whoever it landed on would have to choose to answer a truth, or do a dare. The person who spun would then give them a challenge.

Steve had always loved truth-or-dare. It was one of his favorite party games, probably because of his alpha-competitive nature. He just really liked the challenge of it, and it was fun to watch as the dares got crazier and crazier.

So, of course, he ended up getting some wild ones this time around. The worst one was that he’d had to kiss Tommy’s toilet seat, the easiest one was doing 50 squats, but most of the dares ended up involving eating things without his hands. He wasn’t sure what was so fascinating about that one? But everyone kept asking for it. “Eat a banana without your hands, eat cereal off the floor without your hands, lick peanut butter off my hand…without using your hands.”

The last one is where he drew the line. It had been Arnie’s request, and it was so obviously one of his weird kink things that Steve called him out on it. The guy blushed and pivoted immediately. “Then, um…um…I dare you to go the whole rest of the party without wearing any pants.”

Which: no big deal. Steve didn’t really mind that one. It was better than the one Simon had gotten, which required him to trade clothes with Chrissy for the rest of the night. She ended up in his oversized Varsity jacket, and he ended up in a too-tight skirt and crop-top combo. At least Steve still had his whole range of movement.

He did notice people watching him a lot afterward, though. At first, he didn’t really pay it any mind. Obviously, the sight of a guy wearing only a white collared shirt and a pair of maroon briefs was going to turn some heads. But there was something about the way some of the guys kept staring at him after the initial double-take that made him feel uncomfortable.

“It’s probably because your legs kinda look like a girl’s right now.” Tommy theorized when Steve mentioned it to him. “What with the lack of body hair and everything²⁸.”

“My legs don’t―” Steve argued, before remembering he was still unpresented. He’d gotten so used to all the jokes the kids made about him being overly hairy that he’d forgotten that he’d developed that only within the last couple of years.

“It’s the underwear.” Arnie slurred into his drink, entering the conversation uninvited. He was one of the ones who looked at Steve with an extra slimy gaze, and Steve’d been trying to avoid him unsuccessfully for most of the night. “‘Cuz of the color. An’ th’way they make it obvious.”

“Make what obvious?’ Steve asked, looking down at the way his underwear peeked out from under the hem of his shirt.

“The…y’know…yur tiny dick.”

Steve felt like he’d been slapped. He stepped back immediately, pulling his shirt down to hide his crotch as best as he could. How could Arnie just say that? Like it was nothing?

And his dick wasn’t even that small! Like, obviously it was small right now²⁹ , because he hadn’t presented yet, but that was normal. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. And, like everyone else, he grew a lot after presenting. In fact, he knew for a fact he was big, even for an alpha. His previous partners had had no complaints.

“Because yours is so big?” Tommy spat back, immediately coming to Steve’s defense. “Cause I heard from Nicole that it’s nothing to be proud of. Pencil dick.”

It wasn’t particularly clever, but it did the job. Arnie’s cheeks flushed red, and he raised to his full height. “What, you got something to say, Hagan?”

“Yeah, fucker. Stop creeping around my friend. It’s fuckin’ weird.” Tommy didn’t back down for a second. And despite the fact Arnie had about five inches on him and was an alpha besides, it worked. Arnie backed down. Tommy was a champ of both football and wrestling―people didn’t mess with him easily. “Yeah, that’s right. Go run away with your little tail between your legs. Someone needs to put you on a fuckin’ watchlist, I swear.”

When Tommy turned back to him, Steve was still pulling down his shirt as far as it could go, flushing in humiliation.

The thing was, he wasn’t insecure about his dick size―at least when he was an alpha. But he hated the idea of all these people staring at it. And there were still echoes of old insecurities--dicks were one of the many things that grew in after you hit post-presentation puberty. His size had been a major insecurity until he'd presented It was the whole reason why he hadn’t gone all the way with anyone before Nancy, despite his general success with girls. He didn't want anyone making fun of him.

“Hey, let’s go upstairs, ‘kay? Let’s take a break.” Tommy comforted, and Steve let out a sigh of relief as he allowed his friend to pull him away from the party. As they passed groups of people on their way to the stairs, he couldn’t help but notice just how many people stared at him.

It was like that scene in the movie Snow White―it used to terrify him when he was a kid. After being told to run and hide in the forest by the woodsman, the forest that once seemed an idyllic paradise suddenly became a dark, haunted thing, full of menacing eyes and branches grabbing at her clothes. Suddenly, the party seemed all too menacing, with eyes watching him darkly.

He wanted to be out of here. They rushed up the stairs, Steve still holding his shirt down over his ass.

“Dude, Arnie’s such a fuckin’ creep.” Tommy complained when they finally got to his dad’s room, one of the few spots in the house completely unpopulated by people. “I can’t believe he said that to you.”

“Me neither.” Steve agreed. “I literally didn’t even have a response.”

“I’m not kidding when I say he should be on a watchlist. What a fuckin’ creep. I heard about the whole ‘wanting you to lick peanut butter off his hands’ thing. Matt said he wanted to punch the guy.”

“I almost did. Like, what the fuck? Did he seriously think I’d go along with it? Also―” Steve waved a hand around himself for emphasis. “Very obviously not an omega over here. So I don’t even know what he was getting at.”

“He probably would’ve tried it with anyone. Didn’t he dare Justina to open a can of beer with her feet? That was probably a fetish thing, too.”

“Oh my fucking god, it probably was!” Steve realized with an agonized groan, flopping back onto the pillows as Tommy got comfortable on his dad’s easy chair. They traded gossip and jokes around until Steve felt okay again, eased by the knowledge that everyone probably hadn’t been creeping on him, it was just Arnie being a weirdo.

Still, he couldn’t help but be reluctant to return to the party, where people would still be staring at his lack of pants. 

“Maybe I should just sit the rest of the party out.”

“No, you can’t! It hasn’t even started yet!” Tommy complained, and Steve looked at the clock.

“It’s 9pm. I’ve been down there for, like, three hours? That’s enough.” He answered, settling a little more onto the bed. At Tommy’s disappointed face, he added, “Look, it’s not like I want to leave the party. It’s been really fun. I just don’t want to be out there with people staring at my dick the whole time. Even if it’s just Arnie, that’s still one more person than I want staring at my dick.”

“You could put on some pants.”

“I don’t want to lose the dare, either.” Steve answered immediately, his competitive streak raising its ugly head. “It’s fine, man. Just have fun without me.”

Tommy tried pouting to get his way, but when he saw Steve wasn’t going to give in, he disappeared into his dad’s closet. “What if―” he started as he rummaged through his dad’s clothes.

“I’m not losing the dare.” Steve repeated.

What Tommy pulled out of the closet, though, wasn’t a pair of pants. It was another white collared shirt, about twice the size of his own. “My dad’s a fatass.” Tommy explained, holding up the piece of clothing for emphasis. “If you wore this, I bet it’d cover everything up.”

“You’re a genius!” Steve jumped up, immediately changing right then and there. Tommy cackled.

“I know, I know. You can worship me later.”

Sure enough, Tommy’s dad’s shirt went almost all the way to Steve’s knees. He looked like Scrooge McDuck; basically swimming in the thing. It was perfect. Literally no one would be able to see even the vaguest outline of Steve’s shape underneath the giant shirt.

There was the downside of the sleeves being too long, but that was solved easily enough just by rolling them up. Steve examined himself in the mirror, pleased at how much it covered. He gave it the last couple of touches, pulling up the neckline from where it had slumped over his shoulder. “This is perfect!”

“I know. Now, can we get back to partying?” Tommy asked, and Steve nodded enthusiastically, following his friend down the stairs. Tommy went first, leaving Steve in the dust in his enthusiasm to return to the party. Steve struggled to keep up, and as he reached the bottom of the stairs, his socks slipped on the hardwood. His foot slid towards the front door, and he careened right towards it…just as it opened.

Whoever’d opened the door saved him from smacking his face on the hard wood, but it was still a heavy landing. The door nicked his shoulder on his way out, and his body tipped to the side, landing mostly in some guy’s poor shoulder. Long arms reached out reflexively to catch him, and Steve’s nose landed in the guy’s neck.

Sandalwood.

“Ouch―oh―Eddie!” Steve smiled, craning his neck upwards to look the alpha in the eyes. In the scuffle, his shirt had fallen open at the neck again, and he tried to pull himself back just enough to right it, but was stopped by the hands gripping tightly at his waist.

It felt like an especially tight hug, so Steve changed his course, deciding to return the hug instead of worrying too hard about fighting his way out of the alpha’s grasp. “It’s so good to see you, I thought you wouldn’t be able to make it!”

Eddie looked entirely stricken, still not pulling away even an inch. He was completely frozen standing there, the surprise of the sudden encounter rendering him speechless. His jaw hung agape. “Holy Mother of God.”

Steve pulled away just enough so they could meet each other’s eyes, and Eddie startled, releasing him with a sudden jolt. The alpha stepped back two, three steps until there was entirely too much room between them. His eyes scanned down Steve’s body slowly, before snapping up to Steve’s face and refusing to move from that spot.

“It’s good to see you.” Steve repeated tactfully, smiling and pulling an errant hair behind his ear. “I’m glad you were able to make it.”

“Closed a little early, no big…gie…Um―what are you wearing?” Eddie interrupted himself, eyes quickly jumping down Steve’s body once more, almost involuntarily.

Steve spread his arms to give Eddie a better view. “What does it look like?” He asked, before realizing it probably wasn’t that obvious without the cape and dress pants. Still, he was wearing fangs, so it shouldn’t be too hard to tell? “I’ll give you a hint,” he amended helpfully, opening his mouth as wide as he could to reveal the fangs.

“J—Jesus Christ.” Eddie stammered, and a burst of a growl erupted from his chest before he could tamp it down. He coughed after to hide it, and Steve politely pretended nothing had happened³⁰. “Um. Someone the morning after sex?”

What the—where could he have possibly gotten that? “With this Scrooge McDuck outfit?” Steve asked incredulously, showing off the too-big sleeves for emphasis. “What kind of people are you fucking, Munson?”

“I’m—what are you, then?” Eddie asked so he didn’t have to respond to Steve’s taunt. “Someone who was just mated?”

Oh, Eddie must’ve been looking at the smudged makeup on Steve’s neck. He’d completely forgotten about that in the chaos of the party. His hand clamped over the spot, rubbing it ever so slightly to get the makeup off. Eddie’s eyes followed the motion. 

“No, um―I―I’m a vampire.” Steve answered awkwardly. He opened his mouth wide again, giving an exaggerated fake bite to try to lighten up the moment. “Argghhh.” The joke didn’t quite land.

“A vampire.” Eddie repeated, voice flat.

“It made more sense when I had the cape.” Steve defended. “I lost it. And I got dared not to wear pants for the rest of the night, so…yeah. And, um―the mark on my neck was supposed to be a bite mark, like how vampires get turned by a vampire bite? But it ended up looking bad, so I tried to wash it off, but makeup is really tough to wash off, so―”

“No, it’s great.” Eddie shook his head to interrupt Steve’s awkward rant. “Beats me; I’m not even wearing a costume.”

“That’s fine.” Steve grinned, patting the leather jacket on Eddie’s chest. “You could say you’re Jimmy Page, people would believe you.”

Eddie looked kind of like Jimmy Page already, especially here in the past, with the way his shaggy hair fell in his eyes and curled just past his ears. He had the same long face and big brown eyes, and the free-spirit rocker attitude. All he needed was a guitar and the look would be complete.

“Jimmy Page?” Eddie smiled, face lighting up immediately. “You listen to Zep?”

“Doesn’t everyone?” Steve answered, because even if someone wasn’t a superfan, they’d probably at the very least heard ‘Stairway to Heaven’.

“Jimmy Page.” Eddie repeated, preening happily. He ran a hand through his hair, shaking it out. “You really think I look like him?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Don’t get too cocky, but yeah. You’ve got the whole…vibe. All you’d need is a guitar.”

“I have an acoustic in my van. Do you think that would work?”

“Sure,” Steve replied, following Eddie as he made his way past the many cars on the side of the road to where he’d parked, a couple houses away.

“I’m trying to save up for an electric one―it’s more metal, but they can get expensive. I think if I were to choose, though, I’d definitely…” Eddie rambled a bit about the various intricacies of picking the right guitar as Steve only half listened.

He was going to get to see Eddie’s van. Maybe if he was lucky, he’d even get to see the inside of it.

Eddie Munson’s van was an urban legend amongst the kids. It might’ve just been the kids being weird, or it could’ve been Eddie’s own theatrics, but either way, it was a whole Thing. Because Mrs. Henderson worked late on Thursday nights, Steve was always expected to drive Dustin home. Which was usually fine, except when it conflicted with his own work schedule. One such time, he suggested Eddie drive the kid home instead, and Dustin actually gasped at the idea. Like Steve had suggested something crazy.

“What’s the big deal? It can’t hurt to just ask.” Steve had insisted, and Dustin looked at him like he was stupid.

“You can’t just ASK to enter the Steel Dragon, Steve. That’s, like―it’s a breach of code! You have to be invited!”

It was a huge pain in his ass. And annoying, because Steve actually had a nice car. And the kids never seemed to care. They trashed it all the time. But Eddie’s beat-up van was somehow sacred. After enduring their speculation about what was inside for literal months, one of the nuggets had finally been invited in. It was Dustin, of course. His mom worked late again, and when Eddie had heard about it, he’d offered to drive him home―like Steve had originally said he would―and Dustin just about shit his pants.

He called Steve about it as soon as he got home, spending about twenty whole minutes gushing about how amazing the experience was―without giving away any details about what the inside looked like. And when Steve asked about it, Dustin acted like he’d said something offensive. Apparently, because the ‘Steel Dragon’ was sacred, you could not ask what was contained within. Only the events that had transpired.

In hindsight, that had probably been put in place just so the kids wouldn’t snitch on him if they saw any weed in there. But still. After all the hype, Steve couldn’t help but be curious.

Eddie’s guitar was in the passenger seat, and when he opened the door to grab it, Steve tried to peer over his shoulder. So far, it just looked like a normal van. Wood paneled interior, normal dashboard, nothing tripped out. And…were those plaid seats?

“I thought they said plaid was lame!” He complained under his breath, remembering how much the kids had ripped on him for his all-plaid room.

“What the―personal space, man!” Eddie complained, pushing Steve away and jerking back, rubbing at his ear. “And what do you mean? What’s the problem with plaid?”

“I don’t know,” Steve answered honestly. “I like it, it’s cool.”

“I do too, it adds character.” Eddie agreed, slinging his guitar case over his shoulder and giving Steve space to check out the interior. “That’s part of the reason I got this one―besides the fact that it was super cheap. Isn’t it neat? Take a look at this.”

He slid open the back door, revealing a rather large meeting space. There was a single bench seat in the back, but it looked like the rest of the seats farther forward had been removed to make space for a small beanbag chair, a rug, and a handful of boxes. An orange and black tapestry hung pinned to the ceiling and blankets and pillows sprawled out everywhere.

“Whoa…” Steve marveled. It actually was pretty cool. “Do you ever take any girls in here?”

“Once or twice.” Eddie grinned, climbing inside and motioning for Steve to follow. “Look―I’ve got a bed in the back. Perfect for cuddling.”

“Wow!” Steve marveled, surprised at how much of the space was functional. “How’d you get it to fit?”

“Well, it’s actually just a couple of foam toppers I got secondhand―don’t judge me, I washed them―that I cut to size. It’s pretty comfy, though, wanna feel?”

Steve did. He climbed clumsily over the top of the seat until he landed on the little makeshift bed. It was comfortable, covered in more blankets and pillows. The wood paneling on the walls made for a nice, cozy touch. “This is awesome. I can see why―I can see why a girl would like it.”

He’d almost said, I can see why Dustin was so obsessed with this, but luckily he caught himself at the last second. Eddie didn’t seem to notice, smiling softly as he got comfortable on the seat. He slung his arm over the back, fingers landing a couple of inches away from Steve’s knee.

“Yeah, Katie and I used to come here all the time. Sometimes, if we were feeling extra fancy, she’d bring this tiny little TV, and we’d hook it up with an extension cord to my trailer and watch movies in here. Usually horror―I told her we could watch romcoms if she wanted, but she said just because she was a girl didn’t mean she liked….sorry, I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

“A little,” Steve smiled softly. “Who’s Katie?”

“Oh. Sorry, it’s Katie Brinkley? She’s in my grade.”

“Camo girl?!” Steve asked, amazed. They lived in middle America; there were a ton of kids who wore a lot of camo. The redneck clique was one of the bigger ones in their school. But Katie Brinkley was a cut above the rest. Nobody’d ever seen her in anything but camo. She’d even worn a handmade camo prom dress to both junior and senior prom.

She came completely out of left field. Did she even listen to metal? Or play Dungeons and Dragons? She certainly wasn’t pretty enough for Eddie, that was for sure. She looked kind of vaguely like a rat, with thin, wiry hair, a big forehead, and crooked teeth.

“There’s more to her than the fact she wears camo.” Eddie chastised with a roll of his eyes. “But, yeah. Her.”

At Steve’s judgmental look, he defended: “She actually is really cool! I promise. We grew up together. Her family lives in an RV right by my house―”

The RV Eddie’d stolen when they needed to make a getaway? Steve perked up, interested. Eddie’d volunteered to steal the thing almost as soon as they realized they needed a car to get them to War Zone. Stealing it had been such an immediate suggestion―and Eddie’d been so thrilled throughout―that Steve had wondered if it was revenge of some kind. Now, he was extra curious.

“So we’ve been friends forever. We’ve dated a little, off and on, but…I don’t know. We’re on a break right now, which is why I kind of don’t have any friends? I know it probably looked pathetic earlier. But I promise, it’s a temporary thing. Just, um, short-term drama. It’s not like I’ve never had any friends. That would be―” Eddie shrugged, and Steve leaned in, even more interested to hear the full story.

“What’s the drama?” Steve asked, interrupting in his excitement to hear the gossip. He’d always been nosy and now was no exception. “What happened?”

Eddie seemed to realize he’d said too much, so he retreated back into his shell. “Nothing major. Just―like I said, it happens sometimes. We’ll break up and she’ll need some space from me, and then things will be fine again. It’s no big deal.”

“But why does that affect your friendships with the rest of the group? Why should that matter?” Steve pressed, but Eddie didn’t want to answer.

“Mutual friends.” He waved a hand dismissively. “Like I said, no big deal. Anyways, are we gonna stay in here all night, or are we gonna party?”

Come to think of it, Steve wouldn’t mind staying here all night. The cool night air and relative silence of the van made for a welcome break from the chaos of the party. But Eddie clearly didn’t want to stick around with the ghosts of his previous relationship, so Steve answered decisively: “Let’s party.”

With Eddie there, the party was about one hundred times better. One million times better. He could actually relax and let himself have fun, like he’d wanted to do from the start. He danced, he sang along to the music too loud, he laughed at the way Eddie tried to head-bang to even the most bubblegum-pop songs.

Even the crush of bodies around him didn’t seem so bad anymore. It was like some kind of internal switch had turned off and his body was able to fully internalize that it was safe now.

He wasn’t really sure why that was. His best guess was that it was because Eddie’s death in the original timeline had happened right before the world ended. So if the alpha was here in the flesh, then it meant for sure that they were safe. That the gates were closed; no monsters would come slamming in through the doors.

It was nice.

When they were done dancing, they played some beer pong in the kitchen, snacked on some of the remaining food, and then went outside to play cornhole.

On their way out, Eddie bragged about how good of a cornhole player he was. “Undefeated Munson champion. Play with the extended family every year. So get ready for the thunder, Harrington, it’s gonna hit ya.”

“Oh, sure.” Steve laughed. When he beat the alpha three times in a row, he laughed even harder. “You gonna bring out the thunder any time soon, Munson? I'm getting bored over here.”

“Oh, fuck you.” Eddie said without heat. “You’re definitely cheating.”

“Absolutely I am.” Steve answered, fake-serious. “Because there’s so many ways to cheat in cornhole.”

“Okay, rematch. I’m definitely beating you this time!”

They got a little too intense about it and started making up rules as they went. It started simple; they weren’t allowed to go past a certain line when they threw it. And then Eddie added a spin before one of his throws, so Steve had to add one, too. Then, of course, it turned into a modified game of H.O.R.S.E, where they had to copy the exact throw the person before had done in order to count their points. Eddie had the brilliant idea of naming it W.H.O.R.E.S., so Steve suggested they somehow make the game a little more whorish.

“What, like…strip corn-hole?” Eddie asked, looking Steve up and down with laughter in his eyes. “You lose one game and you’re totally naked, dude.”

“Not―oh, hey, Simon.” Steve’s thought was interrupted by a group of Simon, Chrissy, Nicole, and Patrick all coming over to watch the game.

“Hey, sugar.” Simon answered, resting a hand on Steve’s shoulder as he came to stand behind him. He offered a manly nod of his head to Eddie. “Munson. I didn’t realize you guys knew each other.”

“We’re doing a project together in English class.” Steve answered, making room for the other two to join, “So we became friends pretty recently. He’s cool.”

“Cool.” Simon repeated, brows quirking upwards. He clearly didn’t believe it.

“Yeah, seriously. I promise you’ll like him.”

Simon nodded, eyeing Eddie’s worn leather jacket and torn jeans. “And what are you supposed to be?”

Eddie gave a giant, ear-to-ear grin, looking straight at Steve. “Jimmy Page.”

“Hn.” Simon nodded, squinting at the other man with a distinct air of suspicion. “Steve’s favorite artist. Convenient.”

Shit. Steve had forgotten anyone knew about that. He felt his face heat with embarrassment as Eddie’s head swung towards him.

“Is that true?” He asked, and Steve nodded a bit sheepishly. It wasn’t really something he advertised about himself…not that listening to Led Zeppelin was in and of itself something to be ashamed of. Not at all. But there was something about the way Steve liked the band that he knew was a little weird. Too obsessive to be normal. So he tried not to talk about it too much.

It kind of felt like if he started talking to people about it, something in his voice would reveal that he was the kind of obsessive fan that had multiple scrapbooks of his favorite pictures of Jimmy Page. Or that he had―a handful of times, extremely shamefully―jacked off to them.

Eddie didn’t seem to notice his embarrassment, or maybe he did and just wanted to tease him about it, because he said: “Maybe I should start talking in a British accent, would you like that?” He affected a surprisingly good impression of the musician. “Is this cool to you, Steve? Do you like it when I talk like this?”

“It’s not about the way he speaks,” Steve answered, bright red and refusing to look at the other boy. “I just think he’s a really good guitar player.”

That was safe to say, right? Nobody would think that was weird?

“So, tell me a little bit more about the game you’re playing,” Simon said, and Steve couldn’t help the wave of gratitude he felt. Safe for now...

“Yes! It’s called W.H.O.R.E.S., and that’s pretty much all we know about it so far.” He gave a rambling account of the progression of thought processes that got them to this point; their competition, the new rules they’d made, then the reason they’d chosen the name. “So I said, W.H.O.R.E.S should have some whoreish rules to go along with the name. But we haven’t been able to think of anything yet.”

“Hm. We could play in teams,” Simon suggested. “And whenever a team makes a point, the teammates have to kiss.”

“That’s a great idea!” Steve answered excitedly, “Me and Eddie vs. you and…”

He glanced at Chrissy and Patrick, finally remembering his earlier plan of setting up Eddie and Chrissy together. “Wait.”

Simon chuckled. “Yeah, maybe not. I’m sure you don’t want to be kissing Eddie.”

Oh, yeah. Gay. What was Steve thinking?

“I mean, the game’s called W.H.O.R.E.S,” Patrick spoke up. “We could just be kissing anyone. Doesn’t have to be a teammate.”

“I like that idea.” Eddie rummaged through his pockets until he pulled out a six-sided die. “It could be random. There’s six of us; six different ways it could go. No teams―if you miss a shot and get a letter, you have to roll the die. Then you gotta kiss whoever it lands on. Doesn’t matter who it is.”

“Oh, like a punishment.” Steve nodded, looking around at all the people in the group he didn’t want to kiss. “That makes sense, I like it! What do you guys think?”

The group found it agreeable enough, and soon enough everyone was playing the most nonathletic game of cornhole of their lives. Because of course they were. They were teenagers who had just been told they could kiss someone if they missed a shot. And there were two pretty girls in the group, so…obviously they were going to test their luck.

Simon was the first one to miss.

“Oh no,” He said, already making his way to the plate with the die before he even saw his beanbag miss the hole, voice eager. “Looks like I gotta roll. What a shame.”

He did so and immediately swore. “What the fuck. ” He cursed. Chrissy giggled, looking over his shoulder. “Can I re-roll this?”

“No? Who is it?”

“It’s Patrick. Come on. That’s not fair. We’re literally related. ” Simon complained, and Steve cackled.

“That’s why it’s a punishment! But, fine. Sure. Brothers don’t have to kiss, whatever. But if you get a dude next time then you gotta kiss him.”

“No problem.” Simon said a little too happily, and his face did something complicated when he saw the result. “Oh. Chrissy―sorry. I should’ve―I know you probably don’t want―”

Chrissy shook her head, fiddling with the zipper of her jacket. Simon’s jacket, actually, come to think of it. “No, it’s fine. It’s just a game, I know it’s not, like―”

“Okay. I’ll―I can just make it quick.” Simon said awkwardly as he ambled over to her. “No funny business.”

“No funny business.” Chrissy agreed, but Steve didn’t miss the way she wet her lips. He glanced over at Eddie, but whatever hurt or jealousy he expected to see reflected there wasn’t. Instead, Eddie looked almost…pleased with himself?

Why would he look pleased? Didn’t he have a crush on Chrissy? Had Dustin been wrong about that?

Before he could ask, though, a cheer went out as Simon kissed Chrissy quickly on the lips. Much more chaste than their spin-the-bottle one, but Steve still noticed the way Simon’s hand covered his mouth afterward, a considering expression on his face.

Steve’s turn was next and he made his shot, but then Eddie missed his. Just before he got to roll, though, a group of guys from the football team showed up. Matt Raggio headed up the group, that same dangerous look from earlier in his eyes.

“What game are you playing?” He asked, standing as close to Steve as he could manage. Which wasn’t that close, luckily, with Simon and Eddie there. Had he always been this creepy? “Can I join in?”

“It’s called W.H.O.R.E.S.,” Patrick answered, not picking up on any bad vibes. “And sure. More the merrier.”

“Oh, um. Actually, I don’t have that many dice.” Eddie answered, voice reed-thin. He sounded strained, and Steve’s eyes shot to him. Had he noticed this guy’s bad energy as well? Did they have a history between them? “So we’re maxed out for now.”

“Oh, that’s no problem.” Matt sidled up to Eddie menacingly. “Switch with me.”

“Huh?”

“Come on, you sit out this round, I’ll go in. Come on, freak. You’ve been playing long enough, don’t you think? Don’t want to hog the princess all to yourself.”

Steve glanced at Chrissy. Wow, Matt had a crush on her too? He’d known she’d been popular with the guys, but he hadn’t realized it had been quite this many of them. Although, that wasn’t relevant. What was relevant was that he wasn’t going to sit back and let Matt talk to his friend that way. “Dude, Eddie and I were playing first. And it’s Eddie’s dice. If anyone should play, it's him.”

“Oh, come on, Steve. He doesn’t mind sitting out a round. Right, freak?” Mat shot a look at Eddie and Jeez. He wasn’t even being subtle about his hostility.

“Look, dude, if you really want to play, start your own game.” Steve held his ground. “Eddie’s not―”

“No, it’s fine.” Eddie answered, raising both hands in the air. “You can take my spot. In fact―” He pulled out another die, this time twelve-sided. “I’ve got this, too. If anyone else wants to play, they can. Chrissy? You got any friends?”

“Oh! Um. Yeah, I can―” She disappeared into the crowd obediently, clearly not wanting to be around the roiling alpha aggression tightly wound between Eddie and Matt.

“If twelve people can play, then you can still stay in the game.” Steve said, hoping it would smooth some of the hostility.

“I don’t wanna play a game with some devil-worshiping freak.”

“Then don’t play. Literally no one is forcing you to.”

Eddie held up a hand to stop them both. “It’s fine, I can sit out. No big deal. I don’t mind. Better than jumping in where I’m not wanted.”

Which sucked. Steve had half a mind to quit, too, in solidarity.

In the end, Chrissy got a pretty decent-sized group together. Tommy and Carol joined in first, and Tommy made a little passive-aggressive joke to Steve about ‘why wasn’t I invited first, dude? I thought we were best friends’, that made Steve wince because he truly hadn’t even considered inviting him.

Once Chrissy invited her cheerleading friends, they had an even group of guys and girls. The guys included Steve, Simon, Matt, Patrick, Tommy, and Mitch―four alphas and two betas. The girls were Chrissy, Carol, Heidi, Heather, Nicole, and Melissa―three omegas and three betas. Eddie sat on the sidelines, eyes roiling with tightly-controlled anger, and Steve jogged over to him, concerned.

“Hey, are you sure you don’t want to play?” He asked. “If you want, I can absolutely switch you. Or we could just leave…”

“Is there anyone you specifically want to kiss?” Eddie asked, taking Steve by surprise.

“Huh?”

“Anyone you’re interested in here. That you would actually want to kiss.” 

“Um, no, not really.” Steve answered honestly, confused. “That’s why I said you can switch me? Is there anyone you want to kiss?”

Behind him, the guys were starting to get antsy. “Come on, Steve! It’s your turn!” One of them called, and it broke Munson out of whatever annoyed headspace he’d been in. The alpha shook his head, motioning for Steve to return to the game, so Steve did, glancing at him nervously every couple of seconds.

He made his shot, and the game was on. Like before, people played badly. Maybe even worse, now that more girls were present. The game was less of a competition of athleticism, and more of an excuse to kiss each other, by the looks of it. Steve was winning by a huge margin; he wasn’t really interested in kissing anyone here, so he didn’t feel the need to pretend to be bad at the game. 

Like, who was he going to kiss? Chrissy, Heather, or Melissa, who’d all been murdered in the past year or so? Or maybe Carol, his best friend’s girl; Heidi, who he’d had a fling with that had ended on bad terms; Nicole, who wasn’t his type? None of them were great options. Not to mention, they all felt dramatically younger than him, despite his body technically being their same age.

So he went through the motions of the game, and thanked his lucky stars when the dice never rolled on his number. Simon and Chrissy ended up kissing for a second time that night a little later on, and Steve couldn’t help but glance at Eddie, wondering again if he would be jealous. He certainly looked miserable just sitting there, watching everyone else having fun without him, but his attention seemed more on Matt than anyone else.

Eventually, Steve found someone else to switch him out, and he went over to side beside Eddie. “I’m sorry he was such a jerk to you.”

Eddie shrugged, making space for Steve to sit next to him. “It’s not your fault your friend’s an asshole.”

Instead of looking at one another, they both kept their eyes on the game, watching as Matt rolled yet another guy’s name. “Why does this keep happening?” He complained, rolling a second time as if to check if the die was rigged against him.

“Maybe the universe is giving you a sign.” Tommy cackled, even though his luck hadn’t been much better.

Steve watched the group, worrying his lip. “Isn’t it, though? Kind of. I could’ve picked different friends. And I could’ve let them know their behavior wasn’t okay. Stood up for you a little.”

“Well, you did that tonight, at least.”

“I tried. I wouldn’t say I did a good job of it.” Steve sighed, running a frustrated hand through his hair.

Eddie hummed a questioning noise, lying back on his elbows and tipping his head so he could see Steve better.

“It’s just―it’s kinda tough, you know? Like…I know my friends are jerks. I do. And there’s a big part of me that wants to just tell them to fuck off. But then they’ll do something nice for me, or give me a compliment, or smile―and I feel bad. I can’t bring myself to cut them off. Because, also, it’s not like they’re evil people. They do nice things, too. And they’ll joke around, and…everything will seem normal until something like tonight happens where their cruelty slaps me in the face. Like, I didn’t even know Matt was being a jerk to you at all until just now.”

“Yeah, I figured that.” Eddie answered neutrally, but something about his tone made Steve feel like it was an accusation.

“I know. I know I missed a lot of major details. And I’m trying really hard to be more aware of stuff. It’s just hard sometimes.” He sighed. “I feel like it’s obvious to everyone except me.”

His eyes caught on Tommy, who seemed to have gotten a little too passionate in his kiss with Nicole and gotten Carol angry. His hands pressed together in a pleading motion as he promised her he only had eyes for her; that he would love her forever.

They’d broken up while they’d been in college, though, from what Steve could remember. He’d never learned why.

“You know…nevermind.” Eddie shook his head. “I don’t expect you to take responsibility for everything Matt’s ever done. He’s his own person. And it’s not like you’ve ever joined in on any of his shit.”

Steve nodded, heart a bit lighter after hearing the validation. “Thanks. I’m just glad I have you, you know?”

“Me?”

“Well, I don’t have to worry about whether or not you’re a jerk.” Steve answered, words coming out a bit too sincerely. Shit, he needed to re-correct. “I already know you are.”

“Oh, ha ha. ” Eddie pushed Steve’s shoulder, and Steve laughed.

They watched on as the kissing game eventually got old, and Dan made his way over to the keg. “Hey, Aaron, bet I can beat your record!” He announced, beginning the keg stand competition. Oh, there it was. The one thing he couldn’t miss out on. Steve sighed, patting his hands over his jeans reluctantly.

“Welp. Better get to it. I’ve got a record to beat.”

The corner of Eddie’s lips quirked upwards. “You just said that like someone about to clock in for a shitty office job they hate.”

Steve looked on to where Tommy pulled off the spout, letting out a spray of beer. “Not too far off, I guess.”

“You know you don’t have to? Like, literally no one is forcing you.”

No one except the butterflies. Right now, one of Steve’s only advantages was that he more or less knew what was going to happen. If he accidentally changed things too much, that advantage would be gone. Maybe the Keg King competition would be included in things which could change the timeline, maybe it wouldn’t. He wasn’t quite brave enough to risk it. So, he told Eddie he’d be back and went to claim his title.

Which was how he ended up upside down on the keg, nozzle squirting in his mouth, with three alphas from the football team holding him up for support. He probably could’ve thought things through a little better. 

When he did the handstand, he realized what he’d forgotten ages ago: that he was still only wearing a too-big shirt, some underwear, and nothing else. Luckily, Simon’s hands pulled the shirt back into place at his thighs, so he wasn’t giving the group too much of a show. But he could feel Matt Raggio’s hand clenching at his inner thigh, about an inch away from his junk, and it was pretty awkward.

Still, he had a record to beat. He determinedly sucked down the beer, competitive to a fault. Billy’d gotten, what, a minute? No, that seemed too long. Steve’s record had been something like 40 seconds before. Maybe 45 would be enough? He could hear the guys chanting around him as he started to get dizzy and feel all the blood rush to his head. “44…45…46…”

That would have to do. He could was starting to get lightheaded, and the beer sloshed in his stomach uncomfortably. If he went any longer, he’d throw up. He tapped out, and the three guys brought him back upright. Dimly, he registered the group giving him a rousing cheer, but he was too focused on the way his head spun.

“That’s why we call him the King!” Tommy shouted, and Steve was hoisted onto a set of shoulders. The nauseous feeling was starting to pass, replaced by a giddy joy and a swimming emptiness in his head.

“Stay gold, Ponyboy.” Steve giggled, remembering what they’d said the first time. Nobody seemed to notice.

The rest of the night got kind of blurry. He remembered collapsing onto Eddie's lap at some point, giving him a hug. Thinking about how much he wished they’d had the chance to be friends the first time around. He’d said something to the guy…he wasn’t even sure what it was, he just knew it made the smile fall right off the alpha’s face.

Eddie’d shaken him frantically. “What do you mean? Steve? What does that mean?”

Steve was too focused on trying not to throw up that he didn’t have the chance to answer. Whatever his answer would’ve been, it was completely lost when someone grabbed his shoulders from behind and tossed him onto the grass.

Welp, that was it. He lost the battle against his stomach and got sick all over the grass. Shit. He was sooo drunk. He rubbed a hand over his face, trying to clear his head.

Through his fingers, he saw Eddie rush out of the party, a group of jocks on his heels. Oh no. Were they bullying him? Steve tried to stand, to tell them not to, but no one seemed to pay attention to his words.

Matt pushed a red solo cup that didn’t smell like alcohol in his hand, and Steve eagerly drank it, knowing he needed to sober up. Especially if Eddie was being run out of the party Steve had invited him to, he definitely needed to fix that.

The water he’d been given had an awful, bitter taste, though, and Steve blinked, staring down at the cup. “What the fuck was that?”

“Hm? I thought it was water, was it not?” Matt asked, using it as an excuse to put his hands all over Steve in a dramatic show of checking the cup. He needed to stop being so clingy, Steve was seriously about to punch him. He tried to push the alpha away, wanting to go after Eddie, but was stopped by a meaty hand. 

“I have to…” He started, then stopped when a wave of dizziness hit him. “Have to…”

Wat a second. What had been in that water? To Steve’s drunk brain, there was only one way to find out. He took another gulp of the drink, and sure enough there was a distinct bitter taste. “Wait, what the…fuck did you try to give me?”

“Nothing. I got it from the tap! You’re probably just too drunk―” Matt argued, and Steve tossed the drink back in his face.

Too drunk to know what water tasted like? No fucking way. Even to Steve’s drunk-as-a-skunk brain, he could tell Matt was being suspicious. He’d been acting suspicious all night. And he still hadn’t stopped touching him.

“Did you…did you fucking roofie me?” Steve asked, voice getting loud. He could feel his head swimming, and he hoped it was from the alcohol. That whatever he’d been given wasn’t fast acting. Fucking hell.

Come to think of it, thank god it had been Steve who’d drunken the water. It had probably been meant for some poor girl instead, and Steve had ended up intercepting it. “Fucking rapist, what the fuck?”

“It was salt!” Matt insisted. “You’re acting crazy right now, Steve, let’s get you back to your room.”

“Oh yeah?! Salt?! Oh yeah, so I shouldn’t be―shouldn’t be―” Steve blinked, trying to force his brain to work. He wanted to say something along the lines of ‘Aha! I have you in a checkmate. If you really did roofie me, the signs of it will happen any second now, and the jig will be up. Everybody will notice, because people like drama and there’s already like ten of them standing here watching me make a scene.’ But he couldn’t quite get his mouth to work around the words. “Time will tell, bastard!”

With that, he stumbled over to Simon and Tommy to let them know what happened…

…And woke up in his own bed. Tucked in nicely under the sheets, wearing the pajamas his grandparents had gotten him for Christmas a couple years ago. Morning light filtered in through his window blinds, and the clock on his bedside table read 9:26.

What the hell?

He stared at his hands, wondering for a second if he’d traveled through time again. They looked…normal? Smaller than they’d been when he was an alpha, so he was definitely still in the past, at least. A walkman sat on the bedside table where he’d left it the day before, so maybe he hadn’t jumped through time at all?

It was just so weird to black out like that. He had no memory of anything that had happened after he’d gotten into the argument with Matt. Like…nothing at all. And he had a splitting headache.

The sound of someone clearing their throat at the opposite end of the bed made Steve jump about three feet in the air. Fucking―he hadn’t even noticed someone was in the room with him! He was getting clumsy.

There, sitting on a chair with his horned-rim glasses perched on the very end of his nose, sat Steve’s father. He looked as angry as his stoic face would allow, and the paperback book in his hand crumpled in his tight grip.

“I will give you the facts.” He said, voice trembling with a cold, tightly controlled rage. Steve winced as he caught an unfortunate waft of his father’s anger. “While you were at Tommy’s party, you were given the drug Rohypnol. Luckily, you are unharmed. The police arrived on the scene before he was able to do what he no doubt intended to. A full toxicology report has been given; I know you know what that means. I'll spare you the details of just how much alcohol was in your bloodstream. Of course, you are grounded for the rest of time. You can say goodbye to your car, you can say goodbye to your friends, and you can say goodbye to life as you know it. You can expect to spend the remainder of your Saturdays here.”

He pushed a folded little piece of paper in Steve’s hands. “If I can’t trust you to spend your free time responsibly, then you can kiss it goodbye. Found this on the bulletin in the station, seems like the perfect way to spend your time.”

Steve slowly unfolded the paper, taking in the information written there. It was a help wanted poster, written in familiar handwriting. The illustration style looked familiar as well, depicting a scruffy-looking man bandaged up and lying on a bed, and someone smiling and offering the man a cartoon heart.

Help Wanted: Caring Individual with a Big Heart

My Uncle recently got into a work accident and needed a big back surgery. He was able to get it, but the road to recovery has been difficult. He isn’t able to move very much at all, and needs a lot of help. It’s just the two of us, and I have work on top of school, so there’s only so much I can do. I’m wondering if anyone can help us out.

We can’t pay you, but we’d be really appreciative. I will definitely find a way to make it up to you after he gets better/I have some more free time. (I’m pretty handy, I can totally fix something in your house or pick something up for you, babysit, whatever)

Literally anything would be helpful, even if you just want to make a meal, or help out for an hour or two one time, or help straighten up. I know I’m being a beggar here, so I’m not picky.

For more information, call: Edward Munson, XXX-XXX-XXXX

PS. I know my dad’s reputation, I 100000% promise this isn’t a scam.

And for once, Steve was in complete agreement with his dad. This did seem like the perfect way to spend his time.

24. “There is a certain strange androgyny to omega men and alpha women. Omega men might wear makeup, and might even wear dresses and skirts, but there is still generally a certain masculinity to it. These boys who grew up male for the majority of their young lives are reluctant to give it up.” ―A Beta’s Guide to Alphas and Omegas, Chapter 11: Pack Dynamics and Public Behavior. return to text

25. “It is a common misconception that a mating mark would, in fact, look like a bite. It’s an easy enough assumption to make; it’s caused by a bite, some people even call it a bite. But the truth is, the mark is formed not by the bite itself, but by the chemical reaction mentioned earlier. This reaction is what causes the discoloration of the skin often referred to as the mating mark. It typically looks like a smudge of color (pictured in figure 1.) Like a Rorsarch ink blot, these smudges are often interpreted to be shapes representing the personality one or both of the members of the couple.” ―A Beta’s Guide to Alphas and Omegas, Chapter 5: Mating Bonds. return to text

26. “There are theorized to be a variety of reasons why some children present at different times than their peers―though the average age of presentation is fifteen, and in fact the majority of teens present at this age, some can present as young as twelve, and others wait until they are seventeen. While there is still not much known about those who present extremely late, it has been found that almost all those who presented before the age of fourteen were experiencing some kind of intense childhood trauma.” ―A Beta’s Guide to Alphas and Omegas, Chapter 3: Developmental Milestones. return to text

27. “Homosexual taboo between men who have not yet presented is an interesting and complex question. It is not technically considered taboo, because of the chance that an unpresented male might present as an omega. However, folk tradition suggests that engaging in a romantic or sexual entanglement with an alpha before presentation leads a young person to present as an omega, leading many unpresented men to avoid relationships with other men entirely...Interestingly enough, this claim actually has been partially substantiated, but only in the case that the unpresented man ingests large quantities of an alpha’s semen (usually referred to as bitching, see Chapter 8 for more information).” ―A Beta’s Guide to Alphas and Omegas, Chapter 3: Developmental Milestones. return to text

28. “...Growth spurts, increased libido, body hair, scent-deepening, developing of secondary-sex characteristics (growing breast tissue and producing slick for omegas, popping a knot and penile growth for alphas), are all expected biological changes in the year following one’s presentation.” ―A Beta’s Guide to Alphas and Omegas, Chapter 3, Developmental Milestones.  return to text

29. “Contrary to popular belief, omega penises do not shrink during the presentation process. They do not grow, either, which is the reason for their small size. As we can see in the graph below, the average penile size of an omega is 1.5 inches (3.8cm) flaccid and 2.3 inches (5.8cm) erect. For betas, the penile size is 3.5 inches (9 cm) flaccid, 5.3 inches (13.5cm) erect. Of course, alphas are the largest, at 4.7 inches (11.9 cm) flaccid, and 7.2 inches (18.2cm) erect.” ―A Beta’s Guide to Alphas and Omegas, Chapter 1: Biological differences between Alphas, Betas, and Omegas: An Overview.  return to text

30. “With so many involuntarily instinctual behaviors exhibited by alphas and omegas, the polite response is usually to ignore it, as drawing attention to it could often lead to an uncomfortable examination of why the behavior happened in the first place.” ―A Beta’s Guide to Alphas and Omegas, Chapter 2: Intersections of Biology and Behavior. return to text

Chapter Text

. . .

The First 1983

On the 6th of November, 1983, a group of children played their favorite game. It was an imagination game, one where they became intrepid heroes capable of vanquishing great evils. As they embarked on their imaginary quest, a monster slammed into their path. Mike Wheeler's voice went as low as it could as it announced a demogorgon blocked the way. Will Byers was given a choice: fight or protect. In the heat of the moment, he chose to fight.

It was the wrong choice, in the end. The demogorgon got him.

Mike Wheeler thought long and hard about that night; replayed it many times in his head. That strange sense of danger he felt when he heard Will say those words. "It was a seven. It got me." They were talking about a game, but there was this sense of foreboding that rose deep in his chest. Watching Will's back as he pedaled away, Mike wanted to call him back. Tell him not to go out into the darkness. Tell him he could stay the night. Tell him Mike would go with him. Anything.

But that would be stupid. They weren't talking about real life. He held himself back, didn't say anything.

He never quite got over the way it felt like his fault when Will went missing the next morning.

. . .

There was a race against the clock and Steve was losing.

He was trying really hard to use his time wisely. He was! He knew how much of a gift it was to be sent to the past and have a chance to change things. He knew that he couldn’t waste it. And he wasn’t wasting it. He was doing everything he could to get ready. He’d made himself a custom nail bat, and…well, that was pretty much it so far.

It wasn’t for lack of trying. He wanted to be able to get stuff done. Will would go missing on November 8th, and it was already the 4th. And there was a lot Steve wanted to get done before the demogorgon started killing things. He wanted to have an arsenal of weapons ready, including fire-starting supplies. He wanted to talk with Benny, see if he could convince the guy not to off himself. He wanted to get a relationship with Barb. Wanted to do things that made Nancy swoon.

Okay, the last couple of things weren’t as important. The truth was, there wasn’t too much he could do to get ready for the demogorgon, and he was failing at even getting that much done. He needed more weapons.

It was just tough. Like, yeah. Maybe a karate class or something would be helpful, but there were four days before the demogorgon appeared. It wasn’t like four days of karate practice were really going to be much of a help. And he wanted to prep people for the dangers coming their way, but how was he supposed to expect them to believe him?

Eddie already thought he was crazy, but that was a whole different story.

The real problem was that time was chugging along quickly, and this whole roofie thing was really throwing off Steve’s mojo. Like, first it was needing to go in to give his statement to the police. Then it was the people at school’s reactions. And then it was needing to talk to the police again and finding out the whole thing was a bitching³¹ scheme.

But Steve was getting ahead of himself.

Here was Steve’s week: Tuesday was a total loss. Literally nothing of substance got done. He’d had the day off school to recover from the effects of the drugs in his system, so you’d think he’d have the time to get something done. Well, he had time. But he also still had the after-effects of drugs in his system. So he was out of it.

Too out of it to argue with his dad, who insisted they both stay at home so Steve didn’t ‘get up to any more trouble’. As if it was Steve’s fault he’d gotten drugged in the first place. Asshole. Anyways, Steve’s dad mostly stayed holed up in his office, only coming out to randomly pat Steve’s head and scent ³² him every now and then.

Which was fine by Steve. He appreciated the privacy, especially because the drugs made him this weird mix of sleepy and horny all day long. He mostly spent the day napping or jacking off. The only real thing he did all day was make a casserole for Eddie and his uncle.

By the way, he apparently chose the worst time to come out of his room. Maybe the drugs were having one last huzzah, making him hornier than he’d been in his entire life. He had to leave the room three times to jack off. It was bizarre. Like, he’d jack off. Think he was done. Go to to the kitchen. Start cutting some vegetables. Think of how much Eddie would like eating the food. Then BAM! Erection. Like, what? It was always exactly when he’d start cooking again, too. Almost like the cooking itself was what was turning him on. But that was crazy.³³

Anyways. Once the meal was prepped and safely in the fridge, the drugs wore off and Steve didn’t have any more problems. Which was a relief, because Tommy and Carol came over later, and it would’ve been really uncomfortable if he’d been at full salute the whole time.

It was fine. Tommy and Carol swanned in with Mark Harrington’s favorite bakery treats and a string of woeful apologies, and his dad was won over in a second. All the earlier talk of not trusting them anymore went out the window.

Steve should’ve expected it. His dad had always been a big fan of Tommy and Carol. In fact, ditching Tommy’s friendship had been his dad’s ‘undeniable proof’ that Steve was ‘going down the wrong path’. The two had a standing invitation to come by Steve’s house whenever they liked, which they abused almost daily.

Steve was technically grounded, but Tommy and Carol were still allowed to spend the rest of the afternoon shooting the shit with him, filling him in on all the drama. (Turns out, Jason Calder ended up actually hooking up with Marge after the Halloween party. Also Simon apparently broke Matt’s nose and spent the night in a jail cell?! Which was glossed over in favor of the next piece of juicy gossip: Arnie Miller screamed at a girl in the middle of math class and nobody knew why).

Steve did his best to pay attention, but he couldn’t help but watch the front door for signs someone else might come in. He had the vaguest memory of Eddie running out of the party looking haunted, and he couldn’t help but hope for a chance to make things right between them. Still, the alpha never walked through the door. Neither did Nancy, even though they were still technically dating.

It probably wasn’t fair to expect her to come. After all, she greeted him the next morning with an entire tray full of cookies. “I heard what happened,” She greeted, pulling Steve into a crushing hug. “I hope he goes to jail.”

“Not like anything actually happened.” Barb muttered under her breath, shooting Steve a dark look.

He was never going to win her over, was he?

Whatever. He had more important things to worry about. Like the cluster of bruises at Nancy’s collar. She’d clearly worn a turtleneck to hide them, but from so close it was easy to purpling marks peeking out of the wilting fabric. A hickey? A mini-mark³⁴? Whatever it was, Steve pretended not to notice it. He didn’t want to get into a fight so early in the morning, especially right after Nancy’d just given him a gift.

Still, he couldn’t stop his eyes from lingering on the spot.

According to Nancy, she’d spent Halloween passing out candy with her mom, and then spent Tuesday night at a self-defense class for omegas. Which probably explained the bruise. Maybe the roughhousing just got a little too much. But still...on her neck of all places? From some lame community center self-defense class? It seemed unlikely.

In the meantime, his friends were acting weird. Arnie alternated between offering his shoulder to cry on and avoiding Steve like he had the plague. A handful of guys went off about how awful alphas could be and offered to walk Steve to class as if they were offering some grand protection.

Simon didn’t talk to Steve at all, even though they had a couple classes together. The alpha acted almost like Steve didn’t exist. Steve had no idea why. From what he’d heard, Simon had been the main person to protect him from Matt in the first place. So why was he ignoring him now?

Eddie, in contrast, spent the entirety of study hall Wednesday staring at Steve. He never actually approached to speak to him, and Steve was too busy catching up on make-up work with teachers to approach the alpha himself. But it was certainly strange. Steve figured he’d have to talk to Eddie during English and find out what was going on.

But then he got called to the office just after lunch. His dad was there, looking professional as he towered over the front-office ladies. Apparently, the two of them needed to stop by the police station to go over some emerging details in the case. Whatever that meant.

Hopper looked young, sitting there in the sheriff’s office. He’d aged about ten years in that Russian prison, so seeing him with only the smallest of lines at the corners of his eyes felt strange. The room was smoggy from cigarette smoke³⁵, but even so Steve could smell the hint of campfire musk coming from the alpha. Hopper’d always had a particularly strong smell and it made Steve feel comforted to have it in his nose.

“I’m not gonna waste your time by beating around the bush,” Hopper said, which Steve appreciated. He liked it when people were no-nonsense with him. “We’ve apprehended three other guys who were in cahoots with this Matt character, and it seems like we’re looking at a bitching scheme.”

It felt like Steve had just been hit by a tidal wave. The world caved in around him and his emotions spun out of control. He couldn’t even hear what Hopper said next over the rushing in his ears.

A bitching scheme.

It seemed impossible. Bitching rapes were the kind of things you heard about on the news―that happened in big cities and small backwater towns where the cops turned a blind eye to most things. Not in safe, suburban Hawkins. As soon as he thought that, though, Steve had to laugh to himself. Every other bad thing has happened in Hawkins: why not this, too?

But to Steve? The golden-boy alpha with a six-pack that omegas drooled over?

Okay. Maybe that sounded a little too arrogant. But the whole thing was just blowing his mind. Steve wasn’t feminine. Not even a little bit. He was about as far as alpha-bait as you could get.

Like, if it was going to happen to anyone, Steve would think it would happen to Georgie Ellis. Georgie was one of those guys who was technically an alpha, but you’d never know it if you couldn’t smell him. He was short and skinny, with these big blue eyes that contrasted against his black hair. Everyone knew he was into men. Steve wasn’t even sure if Georgie’d ever said it out loud. It was just so obvious―from the way he wore the most ostentatious omega clothing he could manage, to the flirty drawl in his voice.

He was the kind of guy you looked at and went, ‘hm, maybe biology made a mistake there. Maybe he was supposed to be an omega.’ Not Steve!

Everything about Steve said red-blooded American alpha male. He was in three sports. Captain of the swim team, star basketball player…admittedly kind of mediocre at baseball, but still! He was athletic, had a manly fashion sense (no sequined blazers for him, thank you very much) and had a nice car. He was short right now, sure. But he’d always had a manly look to his face because of his strong jaw and roman nose. He didn’t have any effeminate mannerisms that he was aware of―why the fuck did anyone want to bitch him?

“Why me?” Steve asked, once his mouth caught up with his brain. The question interrupted whatever Hopper had been saying, but the sheriff didn’t seem to mind.

“That’s the million dollar question, isn’t it?” Hopper answered, rubbing his shoulder and leaning back in his chair. “Everyone who’s been targeted by something like this wants to know the answer.”

“Have you investigated bitchings before?” Steve’s dad interrupted, and Hopper nodded.

“I transferred here from the city. Yeah, I’ve worked on bitching cases before. There’s a lot more than people realize. Underreported. You know…all the happy chemicals that go off after a mating that tell you to please your alpha³⁶. Usually see ‘em pop up as domestic abuse cases a couple years down the line.”

“So, why me?” Steve persisted, not wanting to get off track. “I get it. Everyone wants to know that. But actually, why?”

Hopper sighed. “Most of the time? No reason at all. There’s a lot of guys who have a fetish for the bitching process, no matter who it’s with. Don’t even need a really pretty face, sometimes. I’ve seen all types of people be the victim of this kind of thing.”

“But in this case?” Steve asked, because there was something weird about the way Hopper was phrasing things. And there hadn’t been a bitching at all in the first timeline, which meant there was something special about Steve, here.

Hopper grimaced. “Uh…you ever get tested for aphroditism³⁷? I hate to suggest it, because I don’t want to sound like I’m victim blaming, but…three of the four guys involved were convinced you must be true mates³⁸. Obviously, I don’t smell anything, personally³⁹. You’re unpresented, so…I just found it strange, is all.”

“Can that be diagnosed this young?” Steve’s dad asked thoughtfully. “Truthfully, my wife and I had our suspicions, but…”

“It’s rare, but it happens. I’d see about getting it looked at.” Hopper said. “Anyways, it definitely complicates the case, but I’m assuming you’ll want to press charges on everyone involved?”

“Of course.” Steve’s dad answered, at the same time Steve asked:

“Who’s involved?”

Steve probably shouldn’t have been too surprised to see Arnie Miller’s name on the list―the guy was a known creep and he’d been acting erratic the last couple of days―but he was. The other guy he knew was surprising, too: it was a senior guy from the swim team. He was from another school, but because their school didn’t have a team, he’d been part of the Hawkins one. They were the two fastest swimmers on the team, but outside of banter and a classic competitive streak, Steve had never really considered them that close.

The last guy was unfamiliar, some guy in his late twenties who had a fetish for bitching and apparently had confessed to doing it at least twice before. Fucking sicko.

Steve listened half-heartedly as Hopper went through the next steps with them, but inside he felt numb.

It didn’t feel real.

In the car, his dad berated him about the evils of alcohol and how Steve was constantly trusting the wrong people. “Do you know what could’ve happened?” He demanded, alpha voice⁴⁰ strong and grating.

Steve sunk further in his chair, lower lip jutting out. It’s not like he wanted to get targeted! Nobody wanted to be bitched⁴¹, okay? It wasn’t Steve’s fault so many guys were perving on him! “I could’ve become an omega.” He mumbled in a sullen tone.

“Worse―you could have been forcibly mated to one of those boys. Do you know how hard it is to break a bond? Especially in a minor? Your entire development could’ve been crippled⁴².”

“We don’t know that they wanted to mate me.” Steve pouted, just to be disagreeable.

“Are you kidding me?! That was the whole reason they did it! You heard the sheriff. True mates. You think they wouldn’t mate you as soon as they had the chance?!” Mark Harrington never shouted, but his voice was harsh enough that it sounded like a shout to Steve, who was fully crumpled in on himself at this point.

“It’s not like I asked them to do it!” He shouted back, angry tears pricking at his eyes. “Why―”

“No, you just went to a party where you knew there weren’t going to be any adults. Where you knew kids would be getting up to trouble. Then you drank enough alcohol to bring your blood alcohol content to 0.19―you know how I know that? Because we had to go to the hospital to have you looked at. Who was there while you were passed out in my arms, completely dead to the world? I was. Not your mother, not your friends. Me. And you have the audacity to sit there and pretend you did nothing wrong.”

“I’m not saying I did nothing wrong, I just don’t understand why you’ve gotta be mad at me!” Steve yelled, the tears making his voice crack. Shit. He really didn’t want to cry in front of his father. He quickly hid his face in his knees, wrapping his arms around his legs to further shield himself. “Haven’t you ever made a stupid mistake?”

“Nothing like this.” His dad answered crabbily. The rest of the drive was silent. When they got home, Steve was marched to his room and told not to come out for the rest of the night. Which was fine by him. Emotions were still running high and Steve wanted nothing more than to curl up in his bed and make a makeshift nest out of it.

Omegas were the ones who were really good at making nests; everyone knew that. But alphas and unpresented kids could do a serviceable job of it. Just get the good smelling clothes of the people you love and a shitton of blankets and you had yourself a nest. Maybe not a super fancy one, but at least it would be good enough to calm you down when you needed it.

Steve definitely needed it.

He was banned from going to school again on Thursday, which he’d kind of expected after his dad’s reaction to the news. What he hadn’t expected was to be forced to hang out at his dad’s office all day, curled up on a makeshift nest on the floor. It was weird. His dad told everyone Steve was shadowing him, but it was still embarrassing every time someone walked in and saw him.

After work was done, Steve was allowed some time on his own, as long as he didn’t leave the house. Which is when he made the nail bat. He’d hoped to avoid his dad’s attention, but hammering in the nails ended up being louder than he thought. Luckily, though, his dad wasn’t mad about the whole ‘making a deadly weapon’ thing. If anything, the psycho looked pleased.

“I’m glad to see you’re taking your safety seriously.” the alpha said approvingly, which just made Steve feel vaguely unsettled. He wasn’t planning to use the bat on people!

Anyways, Friday came around, and Steve had done basically nothing to prep for the rapidly approaching fight with the demogorgon. Well, Steve thought to himself with a sigh, There’s always the weekend. Will wouldn’t be kidnapped until Tuesday. So, including today, Steve still had about four and a half days to prepare.

It was a decent chunk of time. He could visit Benny at the diner Sunday, maybe. Get some demogorgon-fighting supplies after school Monday, just in case driving Will home ended in a demogorgon face-off. He really massively hoped it wouldn’t―he was not strong enough to fight one of those things single-handed. Especially unpresented. But he would do his best if he had to.

I still need to give Eddie his casserole dish, too, Steve thought as he stared at the space it took up in the freezer. He’d gone to the freezer for some Eggos, and gotten distracted by the sight of it. He’d honestly meant to give it to the guy on Wednesday, but then he’d totally forgotten.

Should he give it to him today? Steve glanced at the clock. 6:45. Eddie’s trailer park was on the opposite side of town, but Hawkins wasn’t huge and Eddie’s house wasn’t too far away from the school. It would probably only add about twenty minutes to his journey. Which sounded like a lot, but in rural Indiana, a twenty minute drive was nothing. And Steve had time. His alarm kept waking him up early because his past self used to spend about an hour on his hair in the mornings, but Steve was a lot lower maintenance these days. It only took a couple minutes to get out the door.

Great. He’d drop off the casserole before school, then, and offer Eddie a ride. He’d been meaning to talk with the guy anyways.

Steve showed up at Eddie’s house fifteen minutes before school started, wearing his nicest black t-shirt, a bomber jacket, and a pair of light-wash jeans. He was running a little late―for some reason, as he’d been getting ready this morning, no outfit had seemed quite good enough. It couldn’t be helped. When he was an alpha, his rippling muscles filled out every shirt he put on, so he looked good in everything. Now, though, he had these little spindly arms that didn’t fill out anything. He looked like a wimp no matter what he wore.

At least the black shirt was kind of close to Eddie’s style, so the alpha would maybe like it? Not that Steve was dressing up for Eddie’s benefit or anything. Just making an observation.

He’d be lucky if Eddie was even home. It was only fifteen minutes before the first bell, after all, so most kids would’ve already left by now. Eddie’s van was in the driveway, but he could’ve just as easily taken the bus.

Steve rushed to the front door, gripping the casserole dish in one hand and fixing his hair with the other. Did it look too flat? He’d gotten used to wearing it more natural, but maybe he should’ve gone with the pompadour look. That was what was in style, after all.

He knocked on the door and stood back two steps to wait for an answer. Time stretched agonizingly slowly, and Steve bit his lip as he considered knocking again. Would that be rude? After all, if Eddie wasn’t home, there was a chance Steve might wake up Wayne. Which was always a bad idea. Wayne was notorious for being crabby in the mornings. But―

The sound of footsteps came from behind the door, and Steve allowed himself to breathe, his heart rate kicking up. Okay, here went nothing―

Eddie opened the door, pajamas slung low on his hips and his hair a mess. Steve gulped at the sight of him. The alpha looked good. The kind of messy someone got after they’d just had sex―not that Steve was thinking about the other boy like that. It was just the bedroom hair, the way it clouded around Eddie’s head and fell into his face. And the way his clothes were so messy, like he’d just barely pulled them on in a frantic rush.

“Hi!” Steve said brightly, voice too loud. Eddie winced, motioning for Steve to back up so he could come greet him on the outside steps. As he did, Steve was a bit too slow, and Eddie drew just close enough that he could smell the alpha’s signature sandalwood and vanilla scent. More vanilla today. Steve wondered what it meant.

The air was brisk around them, and Eddie hugged his arms to his chest to try to brace against the cold. When he spoke it made clouds in the air. “Harrington?! What are you doing here?”

“I made you a casserole.” Steve answered, like a total idiot. “I was gonna drop it off with you and see if you wanted a ride to school.”

Eddie stared at him for a beat too long, eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Are you…fucking courting me?”

Steve’s jaw dropped. “NO!” He shouted, voice definitely too loud. He couldn’t help it, though. The question came completely out of left field! Anyone would be shocked! Humiliatingly, it actually did make sense that Eddie would ask that, though. Making food for someone and offering to drive them places were both common courting techniques alphas and omegas used. Steve just hadn’t thought of it that way at all when he’d offered.

“No! No, no, no.” He repeated frantically. “The flyer said―okay. So, backing up. I saw the flyer you made? The one that said your uncle is hurt? You said anything helped, so I thought I might make you a casserole or something…but then I forgot to actually bring it to school. And I was thinking about it and I was like: ‘What, I’ll bring it to school and then he has to carry around a casserole dish all day? That’s stupid. Also it’ll go bad’. So then I thought: what if I bring it to you before school? And if I’m here anyways, I might as well give you a ride, so―um. I’m not―I’m not gay.”

“It’s not gay if you’re unpresented.” Eddie said, an ironic quirk to his lips. The words came out sarcastically, and Steve felt a bit like he was left out of some inside joke. “At least that’s what people say.”

Still, he took the casserole dish out of Steve’s hands. So he was at least partially accepting the gesture.

“I’m going to present soon.” Steve answered, “as an alpha.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Eddie waved a dismissive hand. “I was just making a joke. Give me a sec to put this away and get dressed―I’ve actually been meaning to talk to you about something, so this works out.”

Two minutes later, Eddie joined him outside again, bundled in a flannel and a rugged denim jacket covered in patches. He looked cool, the effortless kind of trailer-park hot that Steve would never be able to achieve. His hair was still a mess, but it just added to the overall look.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Eddie said as soon as he came outside. Steve blinked, unaware that he’d been looking at the alpha in any particular way.

“Like what?”

“Like…we’re friends or something. Like you’re happy to see me.” Eddie waved a hand to explain. “It throws me off.”

“Why?”

“‘Cause you’ve got an expressive face. And I don’t see you looking at other people like that, so…it throws me off.” Eddie repeated, and Steve nodded along, even though he wasn’t entirely sure what it meant.

As they got in the car, Eddie was the first to speak. He took a deep breath of air, looking out at the browning grass outside. The lines on his face deepened, his wide mouth setting in a determined expression. Steve watched him, holding his breath and wondering what the other man would say next. He couldn’t have expected what the other man actually said.

“Are you a time traveler?”

Steve’s brain blanked out. What?! “What?!”

“Time traveling. Is it real? If so, have you used it?”

“How did you know that?!” Steve didn’t even have the bandwidth to lie. He was too shocked. How the hell had Eddie found out?! Steve hadn’t even slightly told him anything! He hadn’t even hinted at it!

Eddie gave him a long look that said, Are you stupid?

“I―I guess I wasn’t hiding it too much. But I didn’t say anything to anyone either! I didn’t think anyone would believe me so I’ve been keeping it to myself. How did you find out? What tipped you off?”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “What didn’t tip me off? Honestly, until you showed up today with your cute little casserole and big happy doe eyes, I’ve been half-convinced this was some long-form prank.”

“Why did the casserole make you think it wasn’t??” Steve asked, confused. “Wait, no―what hints were there?”

“You mean besides the fact that you mentioned time travel at every opportunity?”

“I didn’t!” Steve insisted, before reviewing the last couple of days in his mind. Okay…he supposed he did mention it a couple times to the other boy.

“Honestly, the signs started last Thursday―”

Steve was in shock. “You can pinpoint the fucking date?!”

“Oh, that was when it started?” Eddie blinked, face breaking out into a grin. “Really? I’m that good?”

“I’m kind of scared!” Steve said for emphasis. Scared wasn’t exactly the right word for it. Amazed, maybe. Steve’d been hesitant to tell anyone about the time travel thing, because he hadn’t expected them to believe him. He figured he’d be made a laughingstock. Eddie not only believed him, he’d predicted it before Steve even had the chance to mention it. On top of that, he was able to pinpoint the exact moment he'd traveled back in time. Crazy. “How could you tell??”

“Well, you have a pretty expressive face, first of all.” Eddie answered. “And―the way you carried yourself was different. Like, most of the time you give off this La-la-la La laaa kind of energy.” He sung a jaunty tune as he said the “La’s”, twirling his hair for emphasis.

“Like…Little Bo Peep?” Steve asked, because that was the energy he was picking up.

“Exactly! But last week you pulled into class with this: Dun da-dun DUN! dun dun DuN!! kind of―”

“Indiana Jones???”

“Yes! Like a rugged adventurer trapped on a quest he didn’t fully intend on joining.”

“You got that just from how I walked in the door?” Steve asked, jaw slack.

Eddie shrugged. “I’m telling you. You’ve got a pretty expressive face. And it went from innocent to hardened warrior in a day, so…it was kind of obvious.”

“I look like a hardened warrior?” Steve couldn’t help but ask, grinning as he pictured it. What alpha didn’t want to come across as a cool knight in shining armor?

Eddie used a hand to cover Steve’s face, pushing him lightly away. Steve got a noseful of vanilla in the process. “Don’t get too cocky. I said your facial expression was like a hardened warrior. The rest of you is like a small woodland creature. So you’re more like a woodland creature who’s seen the horrors of war, now.”

“Great.” Steve’s smile fell. That didn’t sound very cool at all.

“Anyways, there were a lot of signs. You kept bringing up time traveling. You no longer seemed to care about any of the popularity things you normally do. You get these really sad eyes when you look at Nancy Wheeler―”

“I do?”

“Yeah, it’s pathetic. Anyways. There were a lot of signs. But the weirdest one was how you started noticing me. Fucking bizarre.”

“I always noticed you!”

“Lie. No. No,” Eddie raised a hand as if to cut off any argument. “I’ve noticed you. So I can tell that when you usually look at me it’s like you’re looking at a rock. Your eyes just skip off and move on to more interesting things. Even if I’m doing something off the wall, you’re just like ‘la-dee-da what else is there, oh a snail! Better look at that’. Until last Thursday. Last Thursday, you looked at me for the first time and you’ve been noticing me ever since.”

Steve couldn’t help but feel a bit touched. He laid a quiet hand on Eddie’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, I should have―”

“Argh! No! Gross!” Eddie threw Steve’s hand off of himself. “We’re not doing that. I’m not saying this to like…beg for your attention or whatever. This is not some tender moment. I refuse!”

The way he said it was so animated and full of discomfort that Steve couldn’t help it. He laughed. The sound filled the car, and Eddie seemed lost on how to respond.

“Okay, okay.” Steve agreed, wiping an amused tear from his eye. “No tender moments. I―yeah, you were right. I’m from the future. What did you want to know?”

“How far from the future are you?” Eddie asked. “Old man?”

“Three years. I’m nineteen.”

“Three years? Not more?” Eddie sounded disappointed.

Steve didn’t know how to answer that. “Yeah? Why would I lie?”

“Just―” Eddie’s face twisted into something unsure, his posture tightening up as he looked at his hands. There was something intense about his expression that stopped Steve from making another joke. The car was silent for a solid minute. “Then…how do I die?”

Here’s what happened. It was simple, really. The night of the Halloween party, Steve got drunk and was hanging out with Eddie. His good pal Eddie, who had died in the original timeline. He’d thought to himself: Wow, isn’t it a shame Eddie died before we could be friends? and thought he was keeping those thoughts safely to himself.

He wasn’t. Poor Eddie was traumatized.

“Why’d you have to die? Such a bad death, too.” Steve had said, tears in his eyes. “One of the worst ways to go, I think. And I’d know. That would’ve been me, if it wasn’t for…for…hm? Why is your face all frowny?”

“If it makes you feel better, a fuckton of people die. It’s not just you.” Steve tried, once he figured out what had happened. He’d fucked up, and there wasn’t a good way to fix things.

“That makes me feel great, thanks.” Eddie crossed his arms in front of him, staring out the window at the passing trees.

Steve winced. “I’m from, like, an apocalypse type of thing? It’s complicated. Do you really want to know all the details? Because they’re not really…”

Eddie gave him a flat look. “All the details. Every single one. I don’t care if we miss first period.”

Steve actually probably did need to go to first period, or his dad would freak out. All it took was one call from the school and it would be like World War 3 in the Harrington household. Still, it probably wouldn’t be fair to Eddie to drop the whole ‘I’m a time traveler’ bomb and then run out. So, he tried to explain things as briefly as possible as they drove the rest of the way to the school.

He went through just the most basic things. The monsters and parallel dimensions were simplified to being mutants accidentally created by Hawkins lab. Vecna became a disgruntled employee. The government-enforced quarantine was mentioned, but not the whole ‘shooting anyone who tried to leave’ thing. There wasn’t even a mention of the Russians.

Still, it sounded unbelievable to even his own ears. What am I doing? he asked himself as he told the tale. There’s no need to go into this much detail. “So then the flesh monster broke into the mall, and we knew we had to take it out.” his mouth belligerently continued, unable to be stopped.

It was just such a relief to get it off his chest. He’d been carrying this weight on his own for the entire last week. Now that there was someone willing to hear him out, everything just came pouring out of his mouth.

“...tons of eyes. And wheels. It was kind of crazy. But it said something like it had chosen me? I charged it, fully sure I was about to die. But I wanted to go out fighting, you know? If I was going to die anyways. But then I woke up here, in the past. I was wigging out. So, um. That brings you up to speed. My main goal right now is to save Barb and stop the mutant guy from causing too much havoc on the town. Sheesh. Thanks for hearing me out. I know that was a long story.”

Without meaning to, he’d been talking for about thirty straight minutes. They’d long since parked in the school parking lot, and first period started long ago.

With the story finally out of his system, he finally took a good look at Eddie to gauge his reaction. He was expecting some level of surprise of course, maybe compassion for the amount of shit Steve had gone through. What he wasn’t expecting was for Eddie’s face to be completely shut off.

It was like a dark cloud had fallen over his expression. His eyebrows pinched together as his eyes looked down at Steve like he was looking at a particularly gruesome piece of roadkill. “Um.”

The expression brought Steve’s hackles up. “You don’t believe me?”

Eddie laughed, a single high-pitched scoff. “How can I believe something like that? You just―Oh, yeah. No worries. You just, you know. came from the future! Everyone is dead in the future! Because of the mutants of Hawkins Lab. Of course! Why didn’t I think of that?”

Steve’s jaw opened, mouth making a little ‘o’ of betrayal. “You’re the one who guessed I was a time traveler!”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t expecting you to say you actually were one! I thought―Steve! You think I’m gonna believe that mutants are gonna break out of Hawkins Lab? That’s like something from a sci-fi movie!”

“You like sci-fi movies!”

“Yeah, movies! They’re not―!” Eddie made a nonverbal noise of frustration, tearing at his hair. “You know what? Nevermind. Thanks for telling me about this. I appreciate it. I’m gonna―I’ve gotta get to class.”

With that, the alpha dashed out of the car in the direction of the school building. Steve got out of the car and stood in between the door and the seat, leaning his hand on the top of his car as he watched Eddie’s back hurry into the school. There was a distinct finality to the sight. Something about it told him the alpha wouldn’t be contacting him again.

Fuck.

He’d ruined things.

“Hey, bitch!” Tommy greeted Steve as they joined one another for study hall. “Why do you look like you’re about to cry? Wheeler finally dump you?”

Steve collapsed into his chair, immediately slumping into the hard plastic seat. He glanced at the clock. The last bell just rang and Eddie was nowhere to be found. By the looks of it, he was skipping study hall just to avoid Steve.

“You really gotta find the line between joking and just being rude.” He answered his friend, sick of Tommy’s casually cruel sense of humor.

“Too far?” Tommy asked, uncharacteristically in tune with Steve’s emotions. In an instant all traces of joking were gone. Tommy’d never been good at reading when he’d crossed a line, so Steve must’ve looked pretty upset.

“I’m just not in the mood,” he answered. “Had a shitty morning.”

“Does it have to do with why you were missing from school yesterday?” Tommy asked, and Steve groaned, slamming his head on the desk. Just when he’d forgotten about the whole bitching thing.

“Don’t remind me.” He grumbled into the cool material of the desk.

“That bad?” Tommy asked, inching closer. “Me and Carol were pretty worried about you, you know. Especially after what happened Monday. We came by to check on you, but you were out.”

“You just wanted to use the pool.” Steve accused without heat. Tommy and Carol had an open invitation to the Harrington pool, and they’d always taken full advantage of it.

“Just because we ended up using the pool doesn’t mean we weren’t also worried about you.”

“So you did use the pool.” Steve couldn’t resist getting the last word. He pulled himself off the desk, leaning back in his chair. “I was at my dad’s office. He was freaking out.”

“About the drugs? Still? What an asshole―”

Steve shook his head. “I guess you’ll find out eventually. We had another meeting with the cops. Turns out the drugs were the least of our worries.”

“How so?”

“The main goal was to--" Steve dropped his voice to a whisper, "bitch me. Matt was gonna…there were like three other guys involved…he was gonna drive me to one of their houses and…you know.”

“WHAT THE FUCK.” Tommy shouted.

“Shh!” The study-hall teacher shushed, and Steve and Tommy both apologized, even though Steve had been pretty quiet this whole time.

“I’m gonna kill him. Them. I’m gonna kill all of them. A―” Tommy forced himself to whisper. “--bitching?” His voice went back to his normal register. “Death. Immediately.”

“Hagan. Is there a problem?” The teacher asked, and Tommy looked at Steve for permission to say the reason he was freaking out. Steve shook his head rapidly, and Tommy quieted back down obediently.

“Just family problems, Mrs. Miller.” He lied. “I―do you mind if we step out for a couple of minutes to just, um, process things?”

Mrs. Miller was the type who had a serious expression on at all times, but she was surprisingly lenient about stuff like this. Sure enough, she nodded. “Ten minutes. And I better not hear any complaints from the other teachers.”

When they got to to the hallway, Tommy immediately made a beeline for the classroom Carol was in. “Wait, isn’t she in Click’s class? That old battle-axe will never let her out.” Steve protested.

“Oh no, she won’t have a choice.” Tommy grinned mischievously. “Watch this.”

That was all the warning he gave before he punched himself right in the nose. Steve yelped in surprise. “What the fuck, are you okay?”

“Take a look.” Tommy said, motioning to his face. Fresh tears poured down his cheeks. He sniffled dramatically, gulped once, and then let out a loud sob. Then he opened the door to Click’s class and entered in there, a crying mess. “Carol!”

In an instant, the two of them were kicked back out into the hallway. “What’s wrong?” Carol demanded to know. “Babe, why are you crying? Why is Steve here? What’s going on?”

Tommy breathed in, putting an instant stop to the tears. “We need your evil mastermind skills.” He said, voice sober.

Carol kicked him. “It couldn’t have waited til lunch?! That was so embarrassing!”

“It’s important!” Tommy insisted. “Steve, tell her.”

Steve did, giving both of them all the details of the bitching scheme that he knew of. “I don’t want revenge, though. The legal process is more than enough―”

“Fuck the legal system.” Carol shot back, patting Tommy’s shoulder. “Y’all were good to get me.”

“I don’t want to make a big deal out of it.” Steve insisted. “I’m an―I’m gonna be an alpha. I don’t want people to talk about me like I’m some kind of damsel in distress.”

“It’s not like anyone’s going to see you any differently. They’re the ones who were in the wrong.” Carol argued, but Tommy shook his head.

“Yeah, it should be like that, but we both know people’ll start to talk. They’ll be like ‘why bother bitching him, just wait a week and he’ll present as an omega anyways,’ you know how people are.”

Steve turned a betrayed look at Tommy. “I’m not gonna present as an omega!”

“It’s a 50/50 shot⁴³,” Carol shrugged. “You don’t have to be so against it.”

“It’s not 50/50!”

“Omegas typically present later, so…kinda. Chances go to 50/50 if you reach junior year and you haven’t presented yet.” Carol said nonchalantly. “I’m just saying…it might be good to keep your mind open.”

“Anyways, we can be subtle about the revenge.” Tommy assured. “Nobody has to know it was you they targeted.”

“I did kind of want to spray paint ‘rapist’ all over his car, though.” Carol admitted.

“That’s what I’m saying! Nobody has to know who he tried to rape, They just know he’s a piece of shit.”

Steve massaged his temples, beginning to feel a headache coming on. “I never should have told you guys about this.”

“This is what we’re good for, though.” Carol said reassuringly. “Doing all the cruel things you wish you could, but you’re too much of a good person to ever actually do.”

Was that why? Steve thought it was out of respect for all the good times they’d had together. Still, when school ended and he watched Carol key Matt’s car from a safe distance…he had to admit he was glad to have her on his side.

The weekend passed quickly. Saturday, Steve was able to visit the kids and Nancy. She had more suspicious bruises on her neck, but when her long sleeves lifted over her wrists, there were more on her arms. It made it seem more like she’d gotten into a fight and less like she'd seen a secret lover. The sight of the new bruises emboldened him to ask what they were from.

“Self-defense.” Nancy answered, quickly pulling the sleeve back down over her exposed skin. Steve didn’t argue, but the following silence said everything he didn’t. Nancy’s lips wobbled as she seemed to contemplate telling the truth.

“It’s…um. I just…it’s something private.” She finally landed on. “It’s not a secret, but…I don’t want to tell anyone until I’m a little closer…”

“It’s not a secret relationship?” Steve asked, the question he’d been wondering finally popping out.

“No!” Nancy hurried to say. “No! Not at all. Not at all.”

Well, now Steve felt a little stupid for asking. “Sorry…” He started, mouth flattening into a line as he wondered how to phrase his worries in a way that didn’t make him seem like a desperate, paranoid boyfriend. “It’s just that things have seemed so distant lately…”

“I’m sorry.” Nancy answered, her sweet doe eyes turning apologetic. “I know I haven’t been the best girlfriend. I’ve just…there’s been a lot on my mind.”

The exact thing she used to say before they’d broken up the first time around. “You know, if I’m doing anything wrong, you can just tell me. I’m really good at changing myself.”

He was. He’d change anything he could in order to make himself good enough for her. He’d done it before, and he could do it again.

If anything, Nancy just looked sad. “It’s just…I know your presentation is coming up. And you want to be an alpha.”

“Yeah.”

“If…if you end up presenting as an omega…what will you do?” She bit her lip nervously.

Why was everyone thinking Steve would present as an omega? He wasn’t even a little bit girly! “I won’t, though.”

“But if you do. Worst thing happens and you present as an omega…would you think about being studded⁴⁴ ?”

Studded? Where was that coming from?

“No.” The answer came automatically. He didn’t even give any thought into it. It was just an immediate rejection. It was kind of funny―he’d been through so much at this point, the fighting pits⁴⁵ shouldn’t scare him. But still, he couldn’t imagine himself willingly volunteering for something like that.

“Ah.” Nancy gave a sad smile. “You’re like Barb then? Love the body God gave you?”

That wasn’t it at all. Steve had nothing against people who wanted to change their secondary gender, it was just that…”I just don’t think it would be that bad? Being an omega?”

It came out unsure, partially because he hadn’t really given himself the chance to consider the possibility until now. It was weird to want to be an omega, especially when you won the genetic lottery and presented as an alpha. Like, who actually wanted to deal with agonizing heats, or being weaker than alphas, or all of the shit people gave you for being the ‘weaker sex’?

But he’d always wondered what it would be like, to not have the world on your shoulders all the time. To be able to rely on someone else and not feel guilty about it.

“You…don’t think it would be that bad?” Nancy blinked at him, eyes betraying her shock. Her curls bounced around her.

“Is that weird?” Steve asked, even more unsure now. But Nancy smiled, warmer than he’d ever seen before. She giggled, drawing him into a hug.

“Really weird,” she agreed. “That’s why I like you, Steve Harrington.”

Steve returned the hug, confused. It seemed he’d passed a test of some kind, but he wasn’t sure how.

They did a family game night with the Wheelers that night. Nancy curled into Steve’s arms like she belonged there, and Steve couldn’t help but wonder what he’d done so right to deserve her happy smiles. The kids joined in, and they were all a blast. Too young to really be a match against any of the adults, but viciously competitive. Ted Wheeler kept checking out of the game night to watch the news, and at one point Dustin complained.

“Mr Wheeler! Please stop being a blob!” Which made Steve crack up louder than he should’ve and definitely got them both on Mr. Wheeler’s bad side. In the end, Nancy won by a long shot, and Steve was happy to take third place, right behind Dustin and in front of Mrs Wheeler, who definitely threw the game so the kids could feel better about themselves.

Being around the kids was like therapy or something. They just made him feel like he was someone cool; not a brain-dead loser who peaked in high school. It healed the wound in his heart that had been festering since Eddie walked out of his car Friday morning.

It didn’t matter if Eddie wanted nothing to do with him right now. There were dozens of other people who liked Steve. He still had the kids. He still had Nancy. It seemed like a miracle she hadn’t dumped him already, but…whatever. He was going to ride this out as long as he could. Tommy and Carol were still friends with him, and by the looks of it, they wouldn’t be too cruel to Nancy or Jonathan this time around. Not with Steve refusing to laugh at their mean jokes.

It was going to be fine.

Riding the high, he got breakfast with his dad at Benny’s diner Sunday morning, being careful to slip the guy a couple of flyers for group counseling he’d picked up from the community center. Benny looked pretty confused to see them, but it was a step in the right direction. Steve would have Hopper check in on the guy maybe, see if he could offer a friendly shoulder to cry on or something.

His dad left on his business trip to New York City Sunday afternoon, and Steve saw him off.

“If anything happens, make sure to call me.” His dad insisted, wrapping a scarf around his neck as he got the final things ready for his trip.

“I’ll be fine, dad.” Steve grinned. “I know the rules.”

“Mrs. Williams next door will check in on you to make sure you’re safe and following the rules. The fridge is stocked, and the emergency money is in between the pages of Crime and Punishment in the living room. You know which one that is, right? It’s Dostoevsky―”

“I know, dad. Don’t worry. It’s just a week. I’ll be fine.”

“Make sure you don’t miss any school. You’ve missed enough last week, I don’t want you to fall behind.”

“I’m fiiine.” Steve drawled. “I’ll go to school. Stop nagging.”

He had two days until the demogorgon kidnapped Will. Steve was ready. His car was full of supplies, and he’d already talked with Nancy and Mrs Wheeler about coming over Tuesday night for another game night so he had an excuse to drive Will home. It would be easy. There were going to be no problems.

Eddie still wasn’t talking to him. Steve dropped off another casserole Sunday night to a closed door that refused to open, despite Steve’s repeated knocking and the fact he could hear voices speaking from inside the trailer. Whatever.

But it was Eddie’s loss. Not Steve’s problem.

Plus, he’d have no choice but to be friends once the kids joined Hellfire in a couple years and they had a lot of time together. The silent treatment was only a temporary thing. Steve had to comfort himself like this. For some reason, the ignoring was really getting to him. Worse than with any of the other guys.

It made sense for Eddie to be scared off! Obviously Steve never should’ve overshared like that. One thing at a time. He should’ve anticipated that.

Whatever. It was fine. This was just a temporary thing.

Eddie didn’t matter. Steve wasn’t back in time to make friends: he was here to change the past. And he was doing great so far. He had a plan to pick up Will after their D&D game. He was working getting Benny healthy supports. He was planning specifically to not have anybody over at his house for the next week.

It was going to be good.

It was with these thoughts that he drifted into a peaceful sleep Sunday night. He had pleasant enough dreams…angels wrapping their wings around him, stuff like that. Hundreds of eyes looking at him with some strange form of pride.

Chose right…he heard a voice whisper at the edge of his consciousness. Brave enough to fight with the fates, too weak to win.

Weird. Steve woke up with the words still echoing in his mind. Brave enough to fight the fates, too weak to win. What did that mean? Why did it stick in his head even after waking?

He felt muddled all morning, like he was missing out on something important, but he couldn’t figure out what it was. He got dressed in a comfortable sweater and a pair of loose jeans he fastened with a belt. Something was off. He could sense it in the air, but he couldn’t figure out what it was. His reflection looked normal in the mirror. Maybe he felt…a little warm, considering it was November? As soon as he stepped outside he decided to ditch the sweater for a simple knit tee. But that wasn’t too unusual. Indiana weather was unpredictable and it wasn’t too strange to have a warm day in fall, even this late in the season.

When he got to school and saw Nancy, though, everything became clear. She looked at him with red eyes, puffy from crying.

“Mike and Will didn’t come home last night. They’re missing.”

Steve’s stomach bottomed out.

No. No. That was impossible. How had the demogorgon gotten to them early? It wasn’t supposed to even exist in this plane yet! There was no way! He still should have two days to save them!

Unless―Steve was an idiot. He’d always been an idiot. It wasn’t anything new. What if the demogorgon hadn’t come early at all? What if he’d just gotten the date wrong? He’d been sitting here, all confident Will went missing the 8th, but now…

Brave enough to fight with the fates, too weak to win.

Will had gone missing on the 6th.

Not the 8th.

But…Mike, too? Why was Mike missing? That was new. How had he even…

“The buddy system is important, kids. Don’t leave each other alone.”

Fuck.

Two kids were missing in the Upside Down, now. And it was all Steve’s fault.

This fic has been converted for free using AOYeet!

Chapter Text

. . .

Excerpt from a video interview located on the website, www.aobetasguide.com:

Interviewer: We are pleased to introduce the guest for our show today, Dr. Caroline Confrey. Dr. Confrey currently works as the head of the A/O Studies Department at Stanford University. Her research specifically focuses on omega development, something often overlooked in the academic world. Her recent book, Strength in Pheromones, discusses her nearly twenty years of research on the topic of omega survival instincts. Caroline, thanks for coming on the show.

Dr. Confrey: It’s an honor to be here, Erik. Thank you for having me.

Interviewer: I have to tell you, I was reading your book―specifically the chapter on trauma presentations―and I was so impressed. It’s groundbreaking stuff.

Dr. Confrey: (laughs) I don’t know if I’d call it groundbreaking per se, but it is a topic that’s fascinated me for a long time.

Interviewer: I know a lot of our listeners might be new to the topic, so could you give us a brief rundown on trauma presentations and how you got to studying omega trauma presentations?

Dr. Confrey: Of course. The basic idea is this: Many of us are familiar with trauma presentations in alphas. Studies dating as far back as the 1980s and 90s have tracked people with high ACE scores and found that those who have at least 4 will typically present young, and typically present alpha. It’s a survival instinct a/o people have. If you’re in a situation that is threatening your body’s sense of safety, it will use every resource it has to protect you―and that includes physically maturing faster. The reason people typically present alpha in these scenarios? Well, we see it in the studding pits, first and foremost: violence precludes an alpha presentation. When you present as an alpha, it comes with a valuable increase in strength, speed, healing, and adrenaline. Because of this data, there’s been a general myth that any trauma presentation is an alpha presentation.

Interviewer: That’s certainly what I believed until I read your book.

Dr. Confrey: It’s a very commonly held belief. Trauma presentations into omegas are significantly more rare than their alpha counterparts. Some of my earlier research has found that out of the 5% or so of Americans who experience a trauma presentation, a little less than 10% of them present as omegas. It’s quite rare. What that translates to, though, is almost 2 million Americans who’ve trauma presented into an omega. People whose experiences have been erased until now.

Interviewer: Quite a lot of people. I will say, though…it’s hard to conceptualize why a trauma presentation would turn someone into an omega. Those who present as alphas gain increased speed, strength, and resiliency. They even heal faster. Of course it makes sense that an unpresented child experiencing a life-threatening situation might present as an alpha. What do they gain by presenting as an omega?

Dr. Confrey: A couple things. For one, omegas also have increased healing. Some studies even show they can heal a bit quicker than alphas, although the research is limited. They also have increased speed and heightened senses. You’ll see a lot of omegas trauma-present in a situation in which they are running away from something. Of course, this fits into Bradford’s theory.

Interviewer: For our listeners, Bradford’s theory states that Alphas under stress lean towards the fight response, while omegas lean towards flight. When freeze was added, people said that was a beta response, but…

Dr. Confrey: Of course it’s circumstantial for betas. Well. It’s circumstantial for everyone. But alphas have been shown to lean more towards fight or freeze, while omegas lean towards flight and very heavily towards fawn. So much so that my fifth grader called the fawn response ‘that thing omegas do’ the other day. (laughs)

Interviewer: (laughs) Kids.

Dr. Confrey: I corrected him of course, but there’s truth behind it. And that brings me back to my original point. The primary reason for a trauma presentation as an omega, I theorize, is that fawn response.

Interviewer: The ‘save me’ response.

Dr. Confrey: Exactly. When you’re learning about etymology you can find that when words are very similar in many different languages, there’s a likely chance that they’re very old. The phrase “save me” is one of those words. We’ve got Save in English, Salvare in Latin, 살려주세요 in Korean, спаси ме in Serbian…we find that one of the first things we learned how to do as a people was to ask for others to save us.

And, of course, there’s the pheromonal signaling between alphas and omegas. Arguably one of the most effective languages out there, due to the direct pathways to the brain. The pheromones an omega broadcasts when they are in distress are next to impossible for an alpha to ignore.

So, when an omega presents as such in a traumatic situation, it’s often because they are at the edge of death. They know they can’t handle it anymore. Their instincts are saying to whatever alpha is out there―and typically there is an alpha out there. There’s a reason they keep alphas away from the studding pits―”I can’t do it anymore. I need you to save me.” It’s a failsafe which alphas are hardwired to respond to.

Interviewer: Tell me more about the alphas being in proximity. Because in certain cases, the alpha is far enough away that there’s no way the omega would be able to sense they were around.

Dr. Confrey: Well, we don’t have a good answer for that one. Part of me wants to say it’s fate (laughs). Just me being a stereotypical omega, there. But there’s a reason so many of us a/o people believe in fate. There are a lot of things we haven’t been able to explain from a lens of science yet. I can tell you this, though: of the nearly 5,000 trauma-presented omegas included in our study, 98% of them reported being rescued by an alpha shortly after their presentation.

Interviewer: Fascinating.

. . .

How was Steve supposed to stay in school after that? After learning his kids were stranded in the Upside Down and it was all his fault? Fucking―he was supposed to just go to History class like this? Just spend the day in school learning about useless shit while there were kids missing? While Nancy was crying and needed comforting? How was he supposed to do that?

Anything could be happening to those kids right now. Steve had no clue what Will’s first experience in the Upside Down had been like. Nobody talked about that stuff. People walked on eggshells around it: everyone knew it had to have been rough for the poor kid. Everyone knew Will came back quieter and more secretive; the light from his eyes almost totally gone. But nobody had the balls to talk about it.

Well, maybe he talked to his mom about that stuff. Or a therapist. Steve sure hoped the kid had at least someone he could confide in. But it wasn’t like those people were getting back to Steve of all people to give him the full story.

But he’d been in the Upside Down himself. He could guess at some of the horrors those kids might have to endure. He remembered the damp smell of rot and terror of monsters around every corner well. It wasn’t something he wished on his worst enemy, let alone his poor little ten-year-old pups⁴⁶.

It had been Vecna who kidnapped Will in the first place, he was pretty sure, too.  It was one of the reasons Vecna had been able to possess Will at all: his body had apparently been prepared for that purpose since his first brush with the Upside Down. Whatever that meant.

And―shit―Vecna only needed to possess one body. So he only technically had to keep one kid alive. The other was free to become demogorgon chow. Fuck. What if he’d already killed one of the kids? It would be Steve’s fault, because he said that shit about the buddy system.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

It was literally Day ONE and Steve had already messed things up past repair.

He walked Nancy to her class mostly on autopilot, half-heartedly listening to the things she said to calm herself down.

“I’m probably just making a big deal out of nothing, right? Like, they’ll probably be at some nerd hideout playing hooky. Or maybe they went to some friend’s house that we don’t know. That’s probably what it was. Oh my gosh, if that’s what it is I’m killing Mike. He’s such a little asshole. I’ve told him like a million times that he needs to tell people where he’s going but he just…”

Steve didn’t argue. He could feel the truth welling up inside of himself. If he opened his mouth, everything about the Upside Down was going to come pouring out, and that was the last thing Nancy needed. She needed someone to comfort her through the fear of her brother going missing. Not someone who’d make things worse.

As soon as he was done walking her to class, though, he couldn’t make himself continue. He just stood there outside her classroom door, unable to move. He couldn’t go to class. He just couldn’t.

Without really knowing what he was doing, he made an about-face in the opposite direction of his classroom. Woodenly, he began to walk towards the exit. With every step, he got a little faster until he was almost running. He needed to get out of here. The hallways seemed endlessly long, the rows of lockers oppressively narrow. Heat crawled up his skin, making it itch. He could feel sweat tickle his brow.

He needed fresh air. That was all. As soon as he was outside, he would figure out what to do. He ran full speed past the front office, out the glass doors of the school building, and―

Smack into someone’s chest. Just careened directly into this guy. In an instant, a few things happened. First, Steve’s forehead nailed into the guy’s button on his jacket. He yelped in pain. His arms flailed to find something for balance, and ended up wrapping themselves around the guy’s torso. The force of the collision rocked both of them off balance, and the guy’s arms wrapped around Steve as he struggled to keep them both upright.

As they came to a stuttering halt, Steve finally registered the scent in his nose: sandalwood and vanilla. Eddie.

“Ah.” The alpha said by way of greeting, looking a bit sheepish. “Sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.”

Steve hadn’t been paying attention either, but he was in a bad mood right now. He nursed his forehead, glaring up at the alpha. “That really hurt, asshole!” He complained. He could feel stressed tears begin to form at the corners of his eyes.

It wasn’t about the stupid button hitting him in the forehead. Of course it wasn’t. It was about being a failure. About accidentally putting those kids in danger. About never being strong enough to protect anyone. About being stuck in this shitty unavoidable fate where he’d have to watch his friends die twice.

But when you were just barely holding it together, the tiniest thing could set you off. “Why do you have to―Why can’t you just―?” He stammered, wanting to vent out his frustration but lacking the ammunition to do so. It wasn’t like Eddie had actually done anything wrong.

It was just that they were supposed to be a team. But now everything was all wrong and Steve had to do this on his own.

“Are you okay?” Eddie had the audacity to ask. Only three days ago, he’d run away and called Steve a liar. And now he had the balls to ask Steve how he was doing.

I would be if you’d just helped me! Steve thought viciously. Unfairly. “Oh, so now you care?” He scoffed, and Eddie’s face closed off, his jaw setting into an angry line.

“I’ve always cared about you.” He answered firmly. “You’re the one who decided to―nevermind. Forget I asked.”

“I will.” Steve snapped, pressing past the alpha and rushing to the safety of his car. He didn’t even really know where to go, but he knew he needed to be away from here.

He couldn’t do this. Like, fuck. How was he supposed to save everyone? He was the weakest link of the entire group! Brave enough to fight the fates, too weak to win.

Like who the hell did he think he was?! He thought he could change things just…single-handedly? Who did he think he was, Hopper? He was Steve fucking Harrington. Loser who peaked in high school. An alpha who could hardly even win a fight properly. And he just thought ‘hm if I do like two things differently it’ll all be fine.’ WHAT WAS HE THINKING!?

Why had he even been sent back in time in the first place? Was this just some kind of sick game? Like...okay. The dream he had last night was probably significant in some way. At least, it felt significant. The thing about being too weak to win against the fates hit too close to home to just be a coincidence.

When you thought about it, if God or the Fates or whoever wanted to actually change something by sending a person back in time, shouldn’t they have chosen someone better? Like Hopper? Someone who actually had a snowball’s chance in hell at changing things?

What if Steve hadn’t been sent back to change things at all? What if he’d been sent back as part of some sick game. A bizarre torture where he had the opportunity to change things for the better, but he’d fail every time. Like fucking Orpheus. Because he wasn’t strong enough. He’d never been strong enough. He was just some hack. A loser who liked to pretend he was stronger than he was.

He was useless.

He glanced back at Eddie just before he got in his car, and found the alpha still standing at the entrance to the school, watching Steve with a worried expression. Steve ignored the look, slamming the door on his way into his car.

You don’t have a right to be worried if you’re gonna fucking run off at the first opportunity, he thought uncharitably.

Which just made him feel guilty. Because that was exactly what Eddie’s whole insecurity had been, right before he’d died. The mantra no more running was what had killed him in the end. Now Steve was getting mad at him for exactly that.

It wasn’t Eddie’s fault he wanted no part in this disaster. Just because Steve was feeling alone and helpless didn’t mean Eddie was at fault. If he thought about it, it was insane he was blaming Eddie at all. Like, why was he putting all this unreasonable responsibility on the alpha’s shoulders? They were acquaintances at best. Eddie wasn’t Steve’s protector. He wasn’t even in his pack⁴⁷.

He slammed his head on the steering wheel in frustration. He needed to get ahold of himself. He was an alpha. He could handle this. He should be able to handle this. Jus…what was he supposed to do? Go to the Upside Down to save the kids? He didn’t even know how to get to the Gate.

He couldn’t do this alone. He couldn’t. It was too much.

But.

He looked up, wiping the remnants of frustrated tears from his eyes. He couldn’t just give up, either. He’d gotten the kids into this mess. He needed to do whatever he could to get them out.

And whoever had spoken to him in his dream was right. He was too weak. He couldn’t do this on his own. But do you know who wasn’t too weak? You know who was able to solve the mystery of the Upside Down and the portals on his own without any help or prior knowledge about the future?

Hopper.

Steve had thought this from the very beginning, but Hopper was the whole package. The perfect alpha. He knew how to fight. He was smart enough to solve a mystery. He was just crazy enough to uncover the mysteries of Hawkins Lab.

If Steve was going to save those kids, then one thing was clear: He was going to need Hopper’s help.

The Sheriff’s station was smack in the center of town, which meant you were never more than a ten minute drive away. Steve spent the entirety of the short drive nervously rehearsing what he’d tell Hopper. He couldn’t have a repeat of his disastrous conversation with Eddie. He had to appear sane.

“Okay, Steve. Just, like―don’t mention the whole Russian thing. Or the flesh monster. Just walk in there and say, ‘hey Hop. It’s me, Steve. I’m―’ wait, fuck. No. ‘hey, Hop, it’s me, Steve?’ who am I?? Why would I start with that?!”

He spent another whole ten minutes in the parking lot planning out his approach, watching people come in and out of the dilapidated building. He honestly might’ve spent all day in there if he had the chance. As much as he wanted to get a move on with finding the kids, it was terrifying to ask for help. All he could imagine was Hopper running away just like Eddie had.

The sight of Mrs. Byers and Mrs. Wheeler exiting the building together spurred him into action. Things were changing whether he liked it or not. He needed to act fast. He got out of the car, wiping away the sweat from his brow. Why was it so hot today? It was November. Could it just be because he was nervous?

Mrs. Wheeler offered the shade of a smile as they passed in the parking lot, a polite little thing that only accentuated the dark bags under her eyes. She clearly hadn’t gotten any sleep the night before. “Oh, Steve,” She greeted after they’d passed each other, almost as an afterthought.

“Hm?” He asked, turning to face her. Her hair fell in a swoopy natural style that made her look elegant, nothing like the bottle blonde perm he was familiar with.

“Um, last night…did you happen to see Mike riding around on his bike? Or Will? I know you’ve offered them rides before…” She trailed off, looking unsure.

He shook his head, feeling helpless. “Sorry, Mrs. Wheeler. I didn’t leave the house last night.”

She looked disappointed but not particularly surprised, and after a quick promise to keep an eye out for the kids, they parted ways. When Steve walked into the station, Hopper looked like he was getting ready to leave.

“Sorry, kid. I don’t have any updates on your case.” The Sheriff announced gruffly as soon as they saw each other. Steve blinked. Huh? Case?

Oh, yeah. The whole bitching thing. He’d totally forgotten. “Um, no, that’s―I actually wanted to talk about the missing kids? I think I might have a lead. Well. Kind of a lead. There’s a lot of…it’s complicated, but―do you have a second?”

Hopper paused just as he was putting on his hat. He placed it back on the hook, shucking off his jacket. “You know where they are?”

“Not exactly.” Steve hedged, inching closer to Hopper’s office. “...If we could have some privacy?”

“Sure.” Hopper opened the door to his office, letting Steve go in first. There was a casual energy around him, like all of this was just a normal day for him. He didn’t seem particularly concerned about the kids at all.  “Talk to me. What did you hear? They hiding out at a friend’s place or what?”

Steve declined to sit. He was full of this nervous energy that sent him pacing back and forth along the length of the office. Suddenly, all the words he’d rehearsed so perfectly in the car failed him. His mind was totally blank. It was like giving a school presentation―as soon as the moment of truth came, Steve just stalled out. “Um!” He shouted nervously voice cracking.

Hopper’s eyes narrowed. “Did you…do something, Harrington? What’s with this?”

“No! It’s―No, not at all. It’s not my fault.” He hesitated. “Okay, I do understand how that makes me look even more suspicious. Like, why would someone go out of their way to say they’re not at fault unless they’re guilty? But I’m not guilty! I promise. At least, not in the way you’re probably thinking.”

Hopper’s arms crossed in front of his burly chest, and he raised a single brow. The silence just made Steve ramble even more.

“Just―I was at the Wheeler’s house a couple days ago, and I told the kids to use the buddy system. You know, to help them be safe! I didn’t think they’d actually―I didn’t think it would make them―”

Hopper let out a disbelieving scoff. “You think you’re responsible for this because you told them to use the buddy system?”

“I don’t think I’m responsible for them getting kidnapped!” Steve protested. “Just that―it was originally just going to be Will, but now Mike’s involved and I’m worried about―Ah, shit that makes me seem even guiltier.”

Hopper leaned forward across the desk. “Don’t worry, kid. It’s okay. I know you’re a good kid. Let’s just take a deep breath. Take it from the top. Why did you think Will Byers was going to be kidnapped?”

“There wasn’t a plot or anything!” Steve immediately put his foot in his mouth. This wasn’t going well at all. He should’ve considered that he was a fucking idiot before he even tried to do this. “I just―could you promise me that if I tell you everything, you won’t think I’m crazy?”

Hopper nodded, eyes sharp. “I promise.”

The explanation took about fifteen minutes, and was even more sparsely detailed than the version he’d given Eddie. No mention of flesh monsters or Russians under the Starcourt Mall. Just purely relevant information: that Hawkins Lab was doing human experimentation to create superhero kids, and that one accidentally opened a portal to another dimension before escaping. Mike and Will had been kidnapped into that alternate dimension by a guy with mind powers who wanted to possess one of their bodies. And Steve knew all of this because he was a time traveler.

Which did still sound pretty crazy, but Steve made sure not to make it sound too crazy! He clearly laid out the details of the case, offered people Hopper could fact-check with, included information of the upcoming future events that would help the Sheriff be able to see that Steve was really telling the truth. Hopper was completely enthralled throughout the conversation, pausing to ask questions and never expressing a shred of doubt.

When the story was over, the chief stood, clasping a large hand on Steve’s shoulder. “Thank you for telling me this.” He said. “You made the right choice. Now, let’s go handle this together.”

Steve felt his heart grow three sizes. Tears welled up in his eyes―wow, he was being really emotional today. What was that all about?―and he couldn’t help but wrap his arms around the older man in a hug. It was just such a relief to be able to count on someone. To have someone who finally believed him. He didn’t have to do everything alone anymore.

“Thank you.” He sniffled, nuzzling into Hopper’s shirt instinctively. A very omega move, but one Steve couldn’t quite resist. The campfire smell was just so comforting, and Steve was feeling very small and warm right now. “I was so scared of doing this alone.”

“Don’t worry,” Hopper assured, gently peeling Steve off of him. “We’ll get you the help you need.”

Steve nodded, putting his hands into fists and holding them in front of himself as if to steel himself for the upcoming fight. “Yes! What do you think? Where do we go from here?”

“I have a plan.” Hopper made his way to the entrance, pulling on his hat and coat with practiced ease. “You’ll have to trust me, though. Can you do that?”

“Of course!” Steve answered, feeling a bit like a baby duckling following its mother. Hopper was The Alpha. Like, the ultimate man. Steve had always wanted to be just like him. Right now, with the alpha offering such a sense of security and protection, he couldn’t help but fall into acting like a kid again. Finally, he didn’t have to hold everything on his shoulders.

They could save Mike and Will, could save Barb…hell, with Hopper’s skills, they might even be able to take on the demogorgon. This was going to be awesome. Take that, fate. Who was too weak now? Steve had Hopper on his side!

Hopper slid into the driver’s side of his cop car and Steve happily bounced into the passenger seat, taking stock of everything inside. He’d never driven in a cop car before. It was kind of cool. The relief began to give way to a heady excitement as he looked around the car.

Hopper fiddled with some of the controls on his dashboard, before starting up the ignition. He pulled his walkie talkie off the dash. “Hey, Powell? We’ve got a 12-26-4, could you notify the place?”

Powell’s voice crackled to life on the other end. “The…sure. You need any help?”

“Nah, I’m good ‘til I arrive. If you wouldn’t mind meeting me there, though…”

“On it.”

Steve watched the interaction with curious eyes. “Getting back up? What’s the plan?”

“The plan’s not to go in anywhere without backup. You never know when something might turn sour.” Hopper answered gruffly. “I’ll explain more when we get there.”

Steve figured they were maybe going to Hawkins Lab. Or a weapons dealer. That seemed to be the most logical course of action. Get some weapons to fight the Upside Down creatures and then go in for the kill. No reason to beat around the bush about it. But as they started driving, it…didn’t seem like they were going towards either. They went in the opposite direction of Hawkins Lab, Hopper sped right by the hardware store.

The Sheriff’s station was in the center of town, so it didn’t take more than ten minutes to get wherever you wanted to go. They got to Hawkins Memorial Hospital in five.

Steve didn’t catch on immediately. “What’s going on here?”

“Gotta meet with a doctor friend of mine. You coming in?” Hopper asked, and Steve nodded, eagerly unbuckling to follow Hopper out of the car. Officer Powell’s car was parked a couple spots away. The man got out of the car as soon as Steve did, but Hopper waved him off. “I’ll let you know if I need you. You let them know to expect us?”

“Yeah, Hop.” Powell agreed, eyeing Steve strangely. Steve hurried his steps to keep up with the Sheriff, feeling a little uncomfortable about the look.

When they got there, the hospital staff looked like they were on edge. They gave Steve and Hopper the same look Officer Powell had. Seeing it reflected in so many faces, Steve recognized it as anticipation―like the hospital staff were keying up for a fight. With whom? Who was the person Hopper wanted to meet? What did that code mean?

When they got to the desk, though, Hopper didn’t address the receptionist. No, instead he turned to address Steve. Making his expression as kind as possible, he rested his hand on Steve’s shoulder once again. Steve looked up at him with big, trusting eyes. Everything about this hospital visit was weird. It was impossible to miss that. But this was Hopper. He trusted the guy with his life.

“These people are gonna help you, kid.” Hopper said, making his voice as soft and soothing as possible. “I promise they know what they’re doing.”

“Help me with…what?” Steve blinked up at him. “Who are we meeting?”

Hopper winced, turning back to the receptionist. “Uh, yeah. I got the 12-26-4 here. Pretty sure it’s a case of pre-presentation psychosis⁴⁸. I’m starting to smell some hints of pheromones and he’s saying he’s a time traveler.”

Steve gaped at him. “You’re…betraying me?”

“You’ll thank me later.” Hopper answered brusquely, turning back to the receptionist. “You’ve got forms for me to fill out, right?”

“Wait, wait.” Steve placed a hand on Hopper’s arm, trying to get his bearings. This couldn’t be real. Hopper wasn’t really committing him to a mental institution, was he? “There’s gotta be some mistake. I’m not crazy.”

Hopper’s expression went a bit soft. “I don’t think you are either. But, there’s been a lot of stress on you lately. It’s okay, though. These people will help you out.”

Steve felt his stomach drop as the reality set in. Hopper was really committing him to the psych ward. He was going to be trapped here for the next 24 hours, at least. He wouldn’t be able to do anything in here because that was what a psych ward was designed to do, it cut you off from everyone and―Will and Mike were still out there, terrified and alone. Possibly injured. And Steve was going to be trapped inside of here and he couldn’t do anything―

He was having a heart attack. Shooting pains wracked his chest. He clawed at it, feeling a sense of urgency all of a sudden that said You’re dying. You’re going to die.

Everyone’s going to die because of you.

“He’s having a panic attack. Steven? Steven, breathe for me. In―out―okay, does anyone have a paper bag?” The voice that spoke to him felt a million miles away. Steve was still stuck staring at Hopper’s guilty face.

“I can’t―I can’t―” He gasped. He couldn’t breathe, but that wasn’t what he was trying to say. I can’t do this. You can’t do this to me.

And, like an arrow shot right through his chest, Steve realized: Benny was going to commit suicide tonight and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

There were people pulling at him, trying to get him to come with them. But he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t be trapped here. He struggled against their hold, kicking out blindly. “Wait! Wait, you can’t just leave me here!” He cried. Hopper’s face remained impassive as he filled out the requisite paperwork.

“Shit! He’s strong!” Someone exclaimed in Steve’s ear, and another person joined the fray pulling him further and further away from Hopper.

“HOP! You can’t leave me in here! I need to―Benny’s going to die! Someone has to check on him! Hop!” Steve shouted. He probably did look crazy, now. He was too far gone to care. He couldn’t just sit back and let Benny die without trying to save him.

“Let me go!” He shouted at the orderlies around him. “Let me go, I just need to―I need to―”

There was a sting of pain in his ass, and he yelped, jolting away. In an instant, he felt himself get woozy. A numb feeling spread from the shot, and Steve’s world finally faded to black. The last thing he saw before he passed out was Hopper’s back, walking away.

- Meanwhile -

“I don’t think this is a good idea.” Barb said, inching closer to Nancy as they tromped through the woods at a punishing pace. “Your parents said you needed to stay home.”

“What they don’t know won’t hurt them.” Nancy shot back, “I’m not just going to sit there twiddling my thumbs while everyone else goes out to look for them.”

“Maybe we should, though.” Barb looked suspiciously at the trees that towered above them like she was expecting them to come to life at any moment. “We could watch old rom-coms like we used to. It could be fun.”

Nancy just gave her friend a look. Sometimes she really had no clue what was going on in Barb’s head. Rom-coms? Really? While Nancy’s brother was missing and her boyfriend was now nowhere to be found either? It just seemed out of touch.

Hopper had said that Steve was fine. That he was ‘accounted for’, whatever that meant. Well, Fu…dge him. Nancy had been dating Steve for three weeks now. She knew him. She knew he wasn’t the type to just miss school over nothing, and definitely wasn’t the type to just run away from home without any warning. At the very least he would have told Tommy and Carol, and the two of them seemed completely oblivious.

The two of them hardly seemed to care. Made a stupid joke about Steve cheating on her and shrugged it off like it was nothing. Honestly, she wondered why he even bothered to be friends with those assho―jerks. They obviously didn’t care about anyone except themselves.

Hopper didn’t seem concerned about Steve at all. At this point, she wondered if she could sue for police negligence. Steve had almost fallen prey to a bitching scheme less than a week ago. Who was to say there weren’t more alpha knotheads out there angling for a piece of Steve’s juicy as―butt?

“Besides, what are we going to do? We’re two helpless girls. You’re even an omega. Like, prime bait for whatever creep is running loose in these woods! We really should leave this to the adults.” Barb argued, sounding a bit like the cowardly sidekick you always saw in cartoons.

Nancy scoffed. Because yeah. She was an omega. Technically. But she’d never felt like one on the inside. Not even once. People liked to call your inner instincts your ‘beast’ sometimes. She liked picturing it like that, too. Like it was something separate from yourself.

The ‘beast’ inside omegas was supposed to be docile. Nurturing. Loving. Occasionally protective but never too violent. Nancy’s beast wasn’t like that at all. It was sharp. Vicious. Constantly clawing to be the most liked, the most powerful, the smartest, the strongest. To possess and claim.

Nancy’s inner beast was meant to be an alpha, and she knew it since she’d presented. It felt wrong to call it an omega. Strange, like someone was looking at a lion and calling it a house-cat.

It made her broken sometimes. A lot of the time. Presenting as an omega was supposed to be this shining pinnacle moment in every young girl’s career. She was supposed to be happy about it. She was supposed to be soft and docile and sweet, eager to make a whole brood of babies for her future mate.

But she wasn’t. She’d never been like that. Never been able to fit into the status quo. Steve was supposed to be her shot at normalcy, actually. He was supposed to be the perfect alpha, or whatever. All the girls thought so. He hadn’t presented yet, but that was just semantics. He would present soon enough, and whoever was lucky enough to be courted by him would be the happiest omega in the world. That was what everyone at school said. The girls, did, at least.

Obviously, if there was this hot, universally-beloved, athletic guy chasing after her, Nancy was going to say yes. Because, if she didn’t like Steve…what would that mean about her?

And she did like Steve. He was cute, and nice, and he had good style―this was her chance to be normal, she’d thought. Her chance to give being an omega the old college try.

Because the alternative was disappointing her parents. Disappointing her best friend. She and Barb had gotten in at least a dozen fights about the topic. Barb was firmly on the “God made you this way” train. Well…that and the: “I don’t want you to die in the fighting pits”.

Which was a fair point. Still, Nancy couldn’t help but think she’d have a good chance of it. For the last six months, she’s been doing underground combat classes three times a week. Sneaking off to the next town to do it, too. Making excuses to everyone so they wouldn’t stop her. She was good with her fists, knew her way around a weapon…she might be small, but she could fight.

It was part of the reason she could walk around these dark woods so unconcerned. The beast inside her knew it could take anything that came her way.

“There are people everywhere,” She defended. She stayed silent about the combat training she’d been doing in secret. She didn’t want to start another fight. As far as Barb was concerned, Nancy’d been spending those nights at a self-defense class. Or at Steve’s. Whichever was the more convenient excuse. “It’s not dangerous. Come on, this is my brother, Barb. I can’t just do nothing.”

“Nancy? Is that you?” Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of two little kids who also were supposed to be waiting safely at home. Dustin and Lucas were her brother’s friends, and she hadn’t expected to see them here. She changed her tone immediately, vaguely aware that she was being a hypocrite.

“What are you guys doing out here? Aren’t you supposed to stay home?”

“Mike and Will are our best friends!” Lucas argued in his impassioned little voice. “We can’t just do nothing!”

“So, what, you’re going to get yourselves lost, too?” Barb argued.

“We know their favorite places! Where they would hide out!” Dustin shot back. “We’re the best people to help look!”

It was a losing battle. It wasn’t like Nancy or Barb could pick up the kids and force them to go home. And besides, they didn’t exactly have a leg to stand on, themselves. “Fine.” Nancy said, after a couple more minutes of back and forth. “But stay close. Who knows what’s in these woods.”

___

El liked Benny. He was scary at first. Big. Bigger than any of the men at the Lab. Taller than Papa, even. But he was nice. Kind of funny, too, when he smiled and turned his voice just so, where she knew he was being silly.

There was a lot she didn’t understand. She was still new to this, being in the world. But Benny was nice and he seemed to like her well enough, and El wasn’t allowed a lot of things but three times she’d been good enough that she’d been allowed to watch a movie. So she’d seen the one with the mice and the diamond in the Devil’s Eye and Penny.

Benny was a grown up, which meant he could adopt her. She hoped he would. She didn’t know how to ask for that. Or if she’d be allowed. She already had Papa, after all. But Papa wasn’t her real father. Everyone at the Lab knew that.

She was pretty sure Papa hated her. Maybe he wouldn’t even look for her that hard. Maybe he’d think it was a gift that she was gone.

She didn’t know a lot of things. She was still young.

About a week ago, she’d had the strangest dream. Little flashes of things, ripples of something gone wrong in the world. But there was no sense to them. Just scenes flashing by in no apparent order.

So she didn’t know, when she met Benny, that he was the same person as she’d seen in the vision. She didn’t recognize his back until he turned to open the door.

She knew him then. Knew the scene seconds before it would happen. The crack of a gunshot. The splatter of blood.

There was a terrified helplessness about it, knowing someone would die seconds before it occurred. She panicked. Screamed.

In a second it was over. The world was silent, the government agents began pouring through the door.

El ran.

___

“I’m fine.” Mike insisted, but he was shivering too hard to be convincing. Will ignored the protest, continuing to wrap his friend in blankets. Not that he suspected they’d do him much good. The blankets in this place were much like everything else here. Tattered, cold, and blackened with rot. There was a smell to this place: ash and mildew with a hint of something sour.

The thing that had taken them…it wasn’t a man. It was more like the ghost of one. Tall and pale, with long arms and a scarred up face. When Will shot him, he disappeared with a laugh in a cloud of smoke. The way the ghost looked at him was unnerving. It was the same way the kids at school looked at ants right before they smashed them under their feet. There was a cold, sick delight.

It set Will’s teeth on edge.

It must’ve put Mike off too, but the dark-haired boy had never been the type to think before he acted. He’d charged the creature, yelling as if that would make him stronger. It didn’t. The ghost of the man had kicked the kid away with ease, advancing on Will like he’d  ben the target all along.

“Finally.” The man’s voice slithered like a snake. There was no other way to describe it. “I’ve found you. My equal.”

Will backed up a step, clutching his gun. “Stay back!”

The man laughed, and with a snap of his fingers the three of them were in a new version of the Byers home. Mirrored in almost everything, but lacking any of the love and security Will was used to. All the comforting scents were gone, replaced by the sour smell of sickness.

“Look at you. Ignorant to your own potential.” The man said, his long, grinch-like fingers caressing Will’s face. “Will you shoot me with that toy? Or will you allow me to show you the―”

He didn’t get to finish. Will shot him directly in the face. Maybe if he was a braver kid, he would’ve heard the creature out, but he was panicking. The man was too close, and Mike was injured only two steps away, and they were in this terrifying place―he’d just acted on instinct.

The man’s laughter echoed in his ears long after he disappeared.

This place was terrifying. Will lacked the courage to dare to venture out past the walls of his house. In the distance, lightning burst in the sky. Shadows danced just outside the windows. Will could sense, rather than see, the way danger lurked right outside the door.

Mike was injured. The ghost man’s kick had fractured his leg and it bent at a grotesque angle. Another reason not to venture outside. Will did his best to patch his friend up, but he wasn’t a doctor, and Mike was in so much pain. Even touching the injury gently made him cry out like a wounded animal.

They were stranded here. There was no way of getting back.

“I’m okay.” Mike insisted from where he sat curled up behind the couch, hidden from the view of the window. “You can leave me if you need to.”

“Stop being stupid.” Will answered, unable to resist the impulse to sneak a peak at the fogged glass of the window. Just to see if he could see the shadow lurking outside.

What he saw made him more afraid than any shadow of a monster ever could. Because there was writing on the foggy window panes. Like someone had run a lazy finger over the cold surface.

Don’t be scared, it said. I haven’t done anything yet.

Will’s breath stuttered in his chest. He stared at the words intensely, part of him scared that if he took his eyes off of them the ghost man would appear again, open the door to whatever horrors lay beyond the door.

It was because he stayed looking at the window that he saw it. Under the spot where the words were written, there was a slow, steady movement. The ghost man was writing something else. Will watched the lines move with rapt attention. Up, then curved down. A sharp shift back up, then a smooth curve back down.

The last thing the ghost man drew on the window was a clumsy heart.

For some reason, that scared Will the most.

This fic has been converted for free using AOYeet!

Chapter Text

Current Timeline:

It was strange to be in hell and not remember dying.

The hospital stay wasn’t great. These kinds of things didn’t seem like they were designed to be particularly comfortable in any way. The ‘booty juice’ sedative the nurses gave him at intake made him conk out for a few hours and when he woke around midnight, it was to a groggy sense of unease that didn’t leave until well into the morning. The sound of screaming from down the hall certainly didn’t help.

He just wanted to get out of here as fast as possible. First, though, he had to convince them he was sane. The shrink they assigned to him was the stereotypical sort. He had a nameplate on his desk announcing him as “Dr. Yaqob” and Steve wasn’t really sure if that meant he was a normal doctor, a psychiatrist, a psychologist, or what. He’d never been too clear on the differences.

Dr. Yaqob was an aging man with a balding head and a carefully trimmed gray beard. A hand knit sweater sat under his blazer and made him seem ever so slightly more approachable. Steve gave a cautionary sniff when they were introduced, but he couldn’t tell if the man was a beta or just on blockers.

Whatever the doctor’s second gender, Steve intended to tell him nothing. Obviously it wouldn’t be a full silent treatment--he would still be polite, but he wasn’t going to say a word about being from the future. Or about Hawkins Lab. All he wanted was to get out of here.

The problem was that they had to fill the hour somehow. And once they’d exhausted the initial battery of diagnostic questions, there was a lot of time left to talk about random stuff. Dr. Yaqob seemed especially interested in learning about Steve’s thoughts on second gender.

“And what makes you think this is a pre-rut funk, as opposed to pre-heat?” he asked, which just got Steve annoyed. Why was everyone acting like he was automatically going to go into heat? He didn’t have any omegan qualities at all!

“It’s just a feeling I have.” He said evasively, because it wasn’t like he could say, ‘I saw into the future, and I present as an alpha. So there’. Without that justification, there wasn’t much else he could say that didn’t make him sound like an idiot.

Sure enough, the doctor just looked at him with a pitying expression that said, Aw poor you. You’re just a dumb kid who’s in denial.

Which―Steve wasn’t in denial! It was so fucking frustrating that everyone looked at him like that when he said he was going to be an alpha, because he knew better. What you ended up presenting as was what you were always fated to be⁴⁹. That was how it worked. Steve had presented as an alpha. So that meant deep inside of himself, he’d always been meant to be an alpha. The end.

So people could look at him with those pitying eyes all they wanted. He was the one who was going to have the last laugh in the end.

“Tell me about that feeling.” Dr. Yaqob said, and Steve faltered, feeling wrong-footed. How the hell was he supposed to explain this?

“Ummm…I don’t know. I just feel like I’m going to be an alpha.”

“What do you think it would feel like if you were going to be an omega?”

“I don’t know.” How was he supposed to know? “Like…fuzzy? Comforting? Like you’re wrapped in a blanket and nothing is going to go wrong.”

That made sense, right? Omegas had it easier in life. They had people around them to protect them in a way alphas never did. So if he was going to present as an omega, he’d probably feel a lot more passive. He wouldn’t feel like the world was on his shoulders, like it did now.

The doctor blinked, his eyes widening a bit before he scribbled something in his notebook. “Soothing. I see. So, if we take that…what does presenting as an alpha feel like?”

“Scary.” Steve answered immediately, the memory of the feeling coming back immediately. The gasping desperation of there’s a monster here and I’m going to die if I fight it. But I need to fight it. Need to protect. Need to be strong. “Stressful. Um. Being an alpha is all about being strong, right? So it feels like…you need to be strong for everyone else.”

The psychiatrist nodded but didn’t say anything. Steve naturally filled the silence. “You get me? Like…the whole deal for alphas is that they’re exposed. Like, out there in the middle of danger. Doing the hard stuff so no one else has to. And you don’t get any help if you’re an alpha. Like―what kinda alpha whines and cries and asks for help like a little bitch? It’s embarrassing. So you gotta do it on your own. And obviously it’s tough, but it’s like―that’s the card you’re dealt. You just gotta do it.”

“Steve, do you want to be an alpha?”

That was a funny question. “Everyone wants to be an alpha.” Steve answered automatically.

“But do you?” The way the doctor looked at him was sharp, like if he could just stare hard enough he might be able to look into Steve’s mind.

“There’s a lot of good things about being an alpha.” Steve answered carefully, returning to the automatic response he’d heard before. “There’s better job opportunities. People listen to you. Sports are a bigger deal. You can walk outside at night and feel safe. Um…your parents will probably be more proud of you.”

“And is it something you want?” The doctor pressed.

Steve was silent for a long time. When he finally spoke again, his voice was a bit wobbly. “Of course I do. I—I’m not—obviously I want to be an alpha.”

It sounded like a lie even to his own ears, but the doctor let it go.

Hopper came by to pick Steve up a little before dinner time. Steve wasn’t really sure what he’d said to the hospital staff in order to break Steve out. It was a few hours before the 24-hour mark, and Steve’s dad still hadn’t been contacted. Through some small miracle, Mark Harrington’s work number wasn’t on the hospital files, so the only numbers they’d tried to call was Steve’s home phone number and the emergency contact—his late grandmother. She’d died in 1980, so it looked like his family hadn’t been the best at keeping things updated in the system. Which was a relief. Steve did not need his dad coming home early because of a stint in the loony bin.

Anyways, for some reason, the hospital was okay with Hopper picking Steve up, which was probably some kind of malpractice if he thought too hard about it. But whatever. Hop had always been a devious liar with a trustworthy face, so…Steve couldn’t exactly blame the hospital staff for being fooled.

Instead, he just looked at Hopper’s familiar sour face and smiled. “Hey, Hop.”

“Don’t give me that look.” Hopper complained, getting straight to business. He didn’t seem like he was in the mood to chit-chat. Well, tough. Because Steve wasn’t going to be talking about anything important with the guy until he was sure he could trust him again. And that was going to take a long, long time.  “How did you know about Benny?”

Steve got into the passenger seat primly, kicking some KFC takeout bags out of the way so he could make enough space for himself. “Well, that depends. Do you believe me now, or are you going to send me to the psych ward again?”

Hopper scowled. “This isn’t a game, kid.”

“Do you think this is a game to me?” Steve asked, offended. He peeled a burger wrapper off his shoe and stuffed it into the pocket of the door. “The guy in the room next to mine screamed until three am last night. They took all my belongings. I had to spend the night on the thinnest mattress known to man. I’m not laughing either.”

“Would you make a different choice?” Hopper replied, pulling out of the parking lot. “Jesus, Steve. You came to me talking about being some kind of time traveler from the future. You think I’m seriously just going to go along with it?”

Steve jutted out his lower lip as he glared out the window. “So if you still don’t believe me, why did you break me out?”

“Are you pouting?” Hopper asked instead of answering Steve’s question. “Are you seriously pouting right now? Steve. Can we just agree that the shit you said is objectively crazy? You’re lucky I signed you out at all.”

“I’m not pouting!” Steve spun back around to argue. “Just because I’m mad at you doesn’t mean that I’m pouting!”

“So then what are you doing?”

“I’m scowling!” As soon as it came out of his mouth, Steve realized how stupid he sounded and retaliated by crossing his arms and directing his whole body away from the other man. “I’m really not talking to you, now. Just take me home.”

“Oh, come on.” Hopper gave a little laugh before realizing Steve was serious. “I’m sorry, okay? Fine, you’re scowling. Look, I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. I’m sorry for not humoring the whole time travel thing. There, is that better?”

Steve glared out the window. Maybe it was childish to be mad. Like, yeah. Obviously Hopper was never going to believe him. He was an idiot for thinking otherwise. But also…the alpha could stand to be at least a little more apologetic. His apology dripped with insincerity.

Faltering, Steve tried to explain: “I came to you for help. I was—I wouldn’t have come to you at all if I wasn’t desperate. Will and Mike are both missing, and it’s all my—anyways I just wanted some help. And instead I got taken somewhere against my will, drugged, forced to pee into a cup…I was put under scrutiny by a bunch of nurses and psychologists. I had to go to group therapy, I could barely sleep—it wasn’t fair. I trusted you.”

“Okay. How about…I promise not to do it again? As long as you don’t say anything that actively presents as a danger to yourself or others, I’ll hear you out. I won’t send you back to the hospital, and I’ll even drive you home and make sure you’ve got a good nest⁵⁰ set up for your presentation.”

Steve finally turned around. “I don’t need a nest.”

Whatever. It wasn’t like Hopper was really ever going to understand. He certainly wasn’t going to give a sincere apology. Steve heaved a deep sigh, watching the buildings pass by. No matter how mad he was, telling Hopper what the man needed to know was in both of their best interest. The more Hopper knew, the more likely he was to be able to find Will and Mike. Beyond that, Steve was exhausted. He was sick of Hopper’s patronizing tone, and he was sick of feeling like everything was riding on his shoulders. All he wanted right now was to curl up in his bed and take a nap.

“Just take me home. I’ll tell you what you need to know.”

Hopper had a lot of questions Steve had no idea of how to answer. The main ones were variations of ‘where is Benny,’ and ‘how do you know he’s dead?’, which were both difficult to answer.

In the first timeline, Steve had read about Benny’s death in the paper. He didn’t remember it super specifically. It was sad. He remembered thinking to himself that it was surprising that the man had committed suicide, and thinking that he would miss going to the diner after basketball games. Tommy’d said a couple of dark jokes, the abandoned diner later became a hangout for the some of the more rebellious members of the team, and that had really been it. Life moved on.

As far as Steve was aware, there’d never been any kind of unsurety. No missing body. No crazy theories from the cops that Benny had kidnapped the kids and went on the run. Which apparently seemed to be the theory being pushed by the current FBI investigation.

“FBI?” Steve asked, brows scrunching together. Most likely, they were here to cover the government’s ass and contain the whole Hawkins Lab situation. But why would they be investigating Benny? That had just been a suicide, right? “I wouldn’t trust them.”

Hopper snorted. “Because I was really in danger of trusting the federal government.” After a beat, he continued, “I just want to know what’s going on. Something smells off, here, but I can’t figure out what it is.”

Yeah, something was off. Steve hadn’t said more than a short conversation to Benny since coming back to the past, so things shouldn’t have changed that much. Eddie’d mentioned the butterfly effect, though. Maybe because of something about the conversation, Benny’d decided to go commit suicide in the woods instead of in the diner itself?

Ew, maybe then his body was eaten by the demogorgon. Gross.

Oh, shit. Maybe his body was eaten by the demogorgon, and that was why the government was trying to cover it up. Or maybe, this time around, he didn’t even get the chance to take his own life. Maybe he nicked his hand in the kitchen or something while cooking, and then he went out back…the demogorgon could smell blood, right? Benny wouldn’t have even had to have a new injury. Old stuff worked just fine. If he had a scraped knee…it was all over.

Steve shuddered. Getting eaten by a demogorgon was a horrible way to go. Much worse than something instant like a gunshot.

“Ah,” Steve said, finally remembering some of Tommy’s extra dark jokes from that year. “Benny shot himself in the face. That was it. In his diner. That was why it went abandoned so long. Because people liked to say his ghost still roamed there or something. But―he never went missing. I think something changed.”

“And you think the FBI has something to do with it.” Hopper added, reading between the lines.

It wasn’t like Steve could exactly say the demogorgon thing without being sent right back to the hospital. Instead he did his best to give Hopper a smaller push. Something that would direct him to look in the right places, without incriminating Steve’s mental state too much.

“I think they’re trying really hard to create quick answers to questions, and I think that usually happens when they don’t want people to look too hard at stuff. So, um…it’s probably best to look where they’re telling you not to. Which is Benny’s disappearance. And the stuff with Mike and Will. And, you know…anything else.”

“Anything else.” Hopper repeated, leveling Steve with a flat look. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Everything, Steve couldn’t help but think. Instead, he answered. “Nothing that’s happened yet. Just some stuff I hope never happens.”

“Which is?”

“If I tell you, you’ll send me back.”

“I won’t.”

The corners of Steve’s mouth twitched into a rueful smile. “But you will.”

“I―” Hopper gave a frustrated noise halfway between a growl and a sigh. “Fine. Just―it’s someone else, right? Another person who’s going to go missing.”

“Not if I can stop it.” Steve answered earnestly. Because things were going to be different this time. He wasn’t going to invite Barb or Nancy over. She was going to be okay.

“Just in case, though…could you give me a name? Someone I should try to protect?”

Steve nodded. That would be fine, right? It was just extra insurance that she’d be okay. Because even if he didn’t invite her over, it wasn’t like he could be in two places at once. Maybe she’d make a random decision to go on a night-time hike.

“Barbara Holland.” he answered, “keep her out of the woods.”

By the time he got home, it was almost five pm, and Steve’s feet dragged over the carpet with exhaustion. His whole body was achy and shivering. He’d been overly hot in Hopper’s car, but now, here by himself in his lonely house, he couldn’t manage to get warm at all. He piled as many blankets as he could over himself in his bed, even raiding his parent’s room for their extra bedding. He felt miserable. Obviously, his rut was coming early in this timeline. Which was…good, probably? If it was Tuesday today, then his rut would be well over by the time he needed to protect Nancy from the demogorgon⁵¹. Which was a good thing. Perfect timing, actually, because he’d still have that raw post-rut strength, without any of the uncomfortable boners⁵². Still, maybe he was also coming down with something. This wasn’t really like the ruts he was used to. He’d had a cold one time at the same time as a rut, and it was a lot more similar to that―hot and cold flashes, irritability, weakness in his limbs. There was a nauseated churn to his stomach that bordered on painful, and sweat plastered the hair to his head.

He fell asleep almost immediately, but his dreams were anxious twisting nightmares. Familiar ones―flashes of the bats feasting on his stomach. Of his friends being too late to save him. Of those tiny gnawing teeth tearing him to shreds. He was himself at first, and then he was Eddie, lying there on the ground, watching Dustin’s face sobbing over him. Feeling the hoard of bats whip around him. Wondering if this was the end. Immense pain radiated from his abdomen.

Don’t die, a voice urged, it will be ever so boring if you die.

When he woke up, three hours later, his eyes were wet with tears. His body still felt cold, but his clothes and blankets were completely soaked in sweat. He gasped heavy breaths, trying desperately to calm himself down. He was alive. He was okay.

The nagging fear didn’t go away, though. If anything, it only got worse. He could hear the wind disrupting the trees outside, and the darkness of the room made everything seem more ominous, like there was something hiding inside his house. The voice of instinct whispered over his skin that he wasn’t safe, that this was a place full of danger. As much as he tried to ignore it, he couldn’t help the shivering goosebumps that made him feel like a coward.

He was cold. So cold. But there wasn’t anyone here to heat him up.

Which was a weird thought. When had he ever needed someone around to warm him up? Why was that, and not the temperature of the thermostat, the first thing that came to mind? Whatever. It was probably just because he was still half asleep. No use thinking too hard about it. He grumbled, pulling the blanket around him as he got out of bed. He turned the lights on as he exited his room and entered the hallway.

Even with the lights on, there was something unsettlingly quiet in the house. His own heavy breathing sounded foreign to his ears, like an intruder breathing down his neck.

As soon as he left his room, he wanted to go back inside. Retreat to safety. But he was also starving. He hadn’t had a good meal since this morning, and he wasn’t even really sure yogurt and fruit counted as a ‘good meal’. Entering his rut, he knew he had to get a good amount of nutrition inside of him and fast. Before he lost his sense entirely and ended up dehydrated and exhausted⁵³.

There was nothing in the fridge though. At least nothing pre-made and easy. By the looks of it, he’d have to cook something. Which was a hassle, but nothing super new. He was used to cooking for himself by now. He shrugged off the lingering fear by settling into routine. It was fine. He was going to be fine. All he needed was to get some sleep, wait out his rut, and trust that Hopper and the rest of the people were doing their jobs and finding the kids. It was fine. It would be fine.

He shuffled to the living room and put on one of his dad’s old records as he preheated the oven and rubbed some seasonings into the chicken. Though he’d picked an album mostly at random, he couldn’t help but enjoy Paul Anka’s honey-sweet voice as it sang. “Diana” was a swingy, up-beat romp of a song, and he found himself dancing a bit as he swung around the kitchen.

“Hold me darling, hold me tight, oh please baby squeeze me tight!” he sang, “Oh, please stay with me, Diana!”

When the song switched to “You Are my Destiny,” he didn’t really mind, singing along to the initial choral entrance. But there was something minor to this song that slowly erased Steve’s dancing mood. As he started cutting cucumbers, a thought startled him into sobriety.

It was December 8th tonight. The day he’d thought Will had gone missing. The night Barb actually went missing. Which meant that the demogorgon would be prowling behind Steve’s house tonight, unless something distracted it.

It was out there. Watching him. It could be―

CRACK!

A loud crack of something slammed just outside, and Steve jumped, knife fumbling in his hands. “Ow!” He cried, knife slicing painfully into his finger. Blood splattered onto the cutting board. “Shit!”

What was that? He made his way cautiously to the sliding glass door to see what was outside, before realizing all of a sudden that he didn’t dare. His heart thudded in his chest, and he licked at the blood nervously as he saw a glimpse of something moving just outside the window. A flash of movement too quick to truly register what it was. His instincts filled in the blanks immediately, though. The clinging terror skittered along his skin.

The demogorgon was out there.

And, he realized with a sudden horrifying clarity, it was looking for blood.

“You are my destiny,” Paul Anka crooned on the record, and the words clanged like a funeral bell in Steve’s head.

Destiny.

It was the very thing he’d been fighting this entire time. Unsuccessfully, at that. “Brave enough to fight the fates, too weak to win”, or whatever. And there was a destiny for tonight, too, right? Someone was going to be killed by the demogorgon.

Barb had gotten that little cut on her hand. Just a tiny little thing. Didn’t even bother giving her a band-aid, Steve remembered.

He stared at the gash on his finger, the blood still pooling into the rag he’d used to wrap around the injury.

Save me.

Someone was going to be killed by the demogorgon tonight.

It wasn’t Barb.

There was only one person home.

I can’t do this. Steve thought.

He felt something wet splurt out of him. What the? He―he looked down at himself and was horrified to see a stain of blood darkening his pants⁵⁴. What the fuck?

Something was wrong with him. Terribly wrong. But that didn’t matter. All that mattered was that there was more blood for the demogorgon to smell. More blood. Shit.

Save me

He―before he could finish the thought, there was another loud CRACK!

Save me!

Steve was off like a shot. He couldn’t even think. He just ran. He could hear a nails-on-chalkboard screech against the glass behind him, and it only made his legs pump faster. In a moment, he was out the front door. He fumbled with his keys, not even knowing how they got into his hand.

Save me.

He needed to run. Needed to get out of here. The demogorgon was right behind him. It was right behind him.

He finally opened the door. In an instant he dove into the front seat. The door slammed shut behind him.

Save me.

The tired screeched as he zoomed out of the driveway and down the street.

Save me save me save me.

He didn’t know where he was going. There was not a single coherent thought in his head. His breath came out in panting gasps. He just needed to get out of here. His eyes glazed over as he looked at the road. Needed to run. Get away.

Savemesavemesavemesavemesavemesaveme

Meanwhile:

“So, can you do it? Look after her? Just for a couple of days. Joyce thinks there’s a lead, and―”

Nancy looked away, unable to face her mother’s tired, hopeful expression. She wanted to help. Ever since she’d presented as an omega and felt how wrong it was, she’d secretly had this idea in her head. A small, unspoken little thought that she was destined to be a disappointment in some way, so she might as well make up for it while she still could.

She’d always tried to be the perfect daughter. She’d never complained about babysitting. She’d always done her chores. She’d listened when her parents told her not to talk back, even if it made the beast inside of her writhe with discontent.

Because maybe, if she did enough for her family, then they wouldn’t turn their backs on her when they finally found out how broken she was.

Of course, the logical side of her knew that female alphas weren’t broken. Even female alphas who presented as an omega first. It wasn’t the thirties⁵⁵ any more. Times had changed. But sometimes, even if you’re happy to accept other people, it was still hard to internalize that same love for yourself.

Besides, her mother was going through so much right now. She wanted to be there for her. Mike’s disappearance had destroyed Karen, and the only thing that seemed to help her fragile mental state was being able to lean on Joyce Byers. And if Mrs. Byers was right and there really was a chance to find Mike, they couldn’t be worrying about taking care of a baby while they were looking for their kids.

Still…Nancy had more people to worry about right now than just herself. She couldn’t say yes. Her eyes drew themselves naturally to her dad’s hand, resting on the table next to his easy-chair. From where she and her mom stood, his back was to them both, and only the very tip of his hair and that hand were visible. It seemed like he’d dozed off for a nap, and Nancy had a furious moment of bitter jealousy. Why did he get to be lazy, when both she and her mom were working their asses off?

“Why can’t dad watch her?” She asked, brows pursed. Her mom’s face just went sad, and she looked meaningfully at the little table next to her dad’s chair. Nancy followed her mom’s gaze and finally registered the sheer amount of cans of beer piled up on the small, stained surface.

“He’s…” Her mom seemed to be looking for an answer, and Nancy already could sense it would be a lie. People didn’t hesitate that long to tell the truth.

It wasn’t like a couple cans of beer were a huge deal though. Surely after he sobered up, he’d be fine to watch Holly. Nancy’s eyes scanned the table again, looking for an answer. Then she saw it. The familiar bottle of pills.

“Wait…” She said, the pieces weaving together in her mind. She’d never been slow on the uptake. It came together quickly.

“They help with his pain.” Nancy’s mom said, like she could read Nancy’s thoughts from the look on her face. The words came out a little too quick, too defensive.

Nancy’s eyes narrowed. “That knee’s been acting up a lot lately, isn’t it?”

Her mom just gave her a look. The kind that said, ‘don’t play this game with me right now.’ They both knew that Ted Wheeler’s knee injury hadn’t caused him any pain in years. He played football with his buddies just last week. “It helps him. You know how hard it’s been for him. It’s his only son that―”

“And Mike’s my brother, but you don’t see me shirking my responsibilities.” Nancy shot back. “I’m going through a hard time too, you know. Mike’s missing. You’re gone all the time. Holly needs to be looked after, I still need to go to school, and―”

She stopped short, glancing guiltily at the basement door. She’d almost said too much. “Anyways, it’s fine if he’s having a hard time, but it’s making it tougher on the rest of us. What’s even in that pill bottle?”

Karen just looked sad, her tired eyes getting even more weary. “They’re just normal pain meds. They’ve been prescribed by the doctor. Anyways, I’m sorry. I know you’re having a hard time, too. I’ll ask Mrs. Sinclair.”

“You shouldn’t have to ask Mrs. Sinclair!” Nancy complained, waving at her dad’s catatonic frame. “And―what doctor is prescribing him pain meds? Does he even have any pain? How long has this been going on?!”

“It’s not like that! He’s not actually that bad, it’s just―this is a really tough thing for anyone.”

“So this is the only time he’s misused them? Mixed the pills with alcohol?”

Her mom’s answer didn’t hesitate, exactly, but it still sounded like a lie. Karen Wheeler looked at the floor, eyes fluttering closed. “Yes.”

“Bullshit.”

“Language, young lady.” Her mom answered automatically, turning back to her daughter with a sharp turn of her head. The look in Nancy’s eyes stopped her in her tracks. “I―I promise that it’s not so bad. I know you love him. I promise, it’s not as bad as you’re thinking, okay? It’s just because of the stress of losing Mike. He’s…I…let’s talk about it later, okay? I can’t right now, but…”

“Yeah,” Nancy agreed, looking again at her dad, who’d remained asleep through the entire argument. “It’s gonna be a really freaking long conversation.”

In the end, it was decided that Holly would stay with the Sinclairs. Karen left with an apology and a hug, and Nancy was left to look after the house. “Just take some time in the family nest⁵⁶, okay? I’m sure you’ll feel better,” her mom had said, as if that would make things better.

Nancy knew she needed to go check on the kid in the basement, but before she did, she spent a long moment standing over her dad’s prone frame, looking down at him. Cataloging the wrinkles on his face, the way his glasses fell askew. The gray hairs at his temples. How long has he been hiding this? She wondered, glancing again at the pill bottle. How did I not realize? How bad is it really? Is he going to be okay?

It looked like she wasn’t the only one keeping a secret. She padded over to the freezer, pulled out some Eggos, popped them in the toaster. Her brother was missing, her dad was addicted to pain pills, and she was a wannabe alpha with a government experiment hiding in her basement. Looked like everyone had something going on. What next? Was her mom a secret stripper or something?

She laughed at the thought of it, placing the Eggos on a plate and disappearing to the basement.

“I’m not a stripper anymore,” Karen giggled, slapping Joyce’s arm playfully. “That was a long time ago. Just to pay for college. Besides, we called ourselves dancers.”

“I’m just saying!” Joyce laughed, eyes on the road. “It’s a far cry from the life you’ve got now. I was wondering if you missed it.”

“Not really.” Karen sighed, looking out the window at the way the suburban buildings gradually made way into forest, a small smile on her face. “Not when things are good.”

“And when things are bad?”

“I don’t know. There was a lot about it that wasn’t very nice. The hours were terrible, for one. You always had to worry about old, ugly men getting handsy. But―”

“But?”

“But…you know. It’s easy to miss being young and loved and beautiful, is all.” Karen continued to stare out the window. “The good old days, when things were simple. When life is bright and free and you’ve got a crappy apartment, but you still believe in happy endings.”

Finally, her eyes met Joyce’s. “Everybody wishes for that, though, right?”

El was in heaven.

She was hiding, yes. Things were not perfect. She still felt bad about the big man in the diner.  The children who picked her up last night liked to argued in a way that made her ears hurt. The basement had a smell musty dampness that brought back unpleasant memories of the punishment room.

But this was no punishment room. Not even close. She had a room all to herself where no cameras watched over her.  When she wanted to sleep, the lights could be as dark as she wanted.  There was no bright hallway light.  There were no guards doing ten minute checks, speaking too loudly, footsteps heavy.  The food here was good, made for enjoyment and not optimization.

The older girl who took her in was nice, and El was very happy it was Nancy and not the red-haired one who brought her home.  The red-haired one was twitchy. Nervous.  She looked at El like she was looking at a monster. El didn’t like that.

El had learned at a young age to pay attention to the way people looked at her. It was the first sign of how they’d treat her. People who looked at her like a tool usually treated her the worst. They usually asked her to do things for them out of view of the cameras, got upset when she reported things to Papa. Those who looked at her like a science experiment were always strange. The best and worst. The best awarded her with extra privileges and treats for good behavior. The worst asked questions like, ‘do you think Subject Eleven can go more days without food than a normal person?’. ‘How does pain affect the subjects’ power?’

The people who looked at her with big, sad, pitying eyes were always the nicest. They always lasted the shortest amount of time, too. She was never quite sure where they went. If the facility let them leave quietly, or if they were disposed of. She would never find out.

Now that she was out, she continued the habit of watching people’s expressions. The red-head looked at El like she was a monster. She was not to be trusted. El tried to make herself very small around her. The one with dark skin―Lucas, she was trying hard to remember names―looked at her with a deep-set caution. Like he was still trying to figure out if she was dangerous.

The curly-haired one with no teeth―Dustin―was the most outwardly friendly. He smiled a lot and when she’d used her powers, he whooped for joy and didn’t scream like the red-head did. Still, there was something about the way he looked at her that reminded her of the scientists. Like he saw her as more of an experiment than a person.

Nancy had a very remote kind of look to her. She didn’t show her expressions very easily. But El liked to think that the older girl viewed her as a person. Her dark eyes had a warmth to them that seemed to convey something like care. Plus Nancy had given El a comfortable bed with lots of blankets (more than one!), and lots of good-tasting food, so…that must’ve meant something, right?

She was probably a bit too biased towards Nancy. El liked to think it was just because Nancy was more trustworthy than the rest of them, but she knew it was more than that.

Nancy was pretty. She looked kind of like the princesses from the books in the Rainbow Room. She had these big, dark eyes framed with long lashes, and long shiny hair that swished past her shoulders. She was strong, too. When she gave an order to the others, they listened. When she saw a challenge, she set her jaw and faced it head on.

El would give anything to be like Nancy. She practiced the older girl’s brave expression in the bathroom mirror, jutting out her jaw and drawing her brows together.

“Shut up!” she repeated Nancy’s words from the night before. “I can’t even hear myself think.”

It didn’t quite give the right impression. The words curled awkwardly out of El’s mouth. She’d never been very good at speaking out loud. It always seemed like her thoughts and feelings were too big for words to express. She knew so few of them.

She set her expression into something a bit more intense in the mirror. She needed to be brave like Nancy. Needed to be strong enough to save people. To close the gate.

The flashes of visions she’d seen had been small. Bright images without much context at all. There were many of people she’d never met before: a big man with a mustache who kind of reminded of this bear she’d seen on the basement television. Only you can prevent wildfires. A skinny, pale dark-haired boy who kind of looked like a rat. A cool-looking older girl with dark eyes and a leather jacket. A girl with long red hair who looked like a fairy and had a brilliant smile.

She couldn’t quite make sense of any of them without context. What was she supposed to do with an image of a van flipping over? It meant nothing to her. Or there was the image of her meeting lips with the rat boy. What was she supposed to do with that?

There were a few images of people dying. Typically people she did not now know. She hoped with this new knowledge, she’d be able to stop the deaths before they happened. She wasn’t optimistic. Not after what happened with the man at the diner. Benny. Hearing his scream as he―

Nevermind.

There was one thing that she saw that was important, though. It was an image of her closing the gate. The same gate that she’d run from a few days before. The gate in the vision was huge and scary, but the her in the vision was braver and stronger than herself. She needed to become like that version of her. Somehow. Right now, that seemed impossibly difficult.

So here she stood, practicing Nancy’s expressions in the mirror. Hoping that somehow, by doing so, she could borrow the other girl’s strength.

It didn’t feel like it worked. No matter what she tried, the face in the mirror looked too young and too scared to ever do anything important.

“Hey, do you think we should check on Steve?” Tommy asked, lounging in the backseat of Carol’s car, legs dangling out the window. Carol spared him a disgusted look from where she sat in the driver’s seat.

“It’s date night.” She answered, throwing an empty Chinese takeout container at him. “No!”

Tommy seemed unaffected by the blow. “But he was missing from school today.”

“He skips like once a week, it’s not―”

“But with everything going on lately…what if someone did something? We would never know.” Tommy raised his hands expansively. “Worst friends ever.”

Carol squinted at him. “Are you fucking―no, we are not the worst friends ever just because we didn’t check on him for one night. Our date night, let me remind you. It’ll be fine.”

“We can spend our date night going to the pool.”

“Ah, yes. The Harrington pool. How romantic. We’ve gone there like ten million times, Tommy. Also it’s November. You said we could go to the movies.”

“It’s for Steve. And the pool is heated.”

“Steve can blow himself. I’m watching The Big Chill.”

Tommy pulled his legs back in the car. “Heartless wench.”

“If you fucking quote Monty Python at me one more time―”

“That wasn’t even Monty Python!”

“Yeah, bullshit, Hagan.”

Look at how weak he is. The way he snivels and cries for his mother. Think of what it would be like to be the one to cause those tears. Think of the delightful beauty of watching him beg for mercy. The heady power of knowing you will never give it.

“I’m calling again.” Mike said, slamming the phone onto the receiver and immediately picking it up again. The swish-click of the rotary phone was aggressively loud in the silence of the house. “If it worked once, it can work again. We just gotta try.”

Will nodded from his spot overlooking the the window. Daytime in this place was bleak. There was a constant cloud cover that made the house seem sickly. The vines seemed to spread even longer, and they reminded him of spindly snakes constantly watching and waiting for the right moment to strike. Sometimes he heard them speak to him. Will had spent the better part of the morning taking a hatchet to them, but it was just a waste of time. Within a couple hours, more vines grew in the place of the ones he’d destroyed.

He thought he could hear the master of this place laughing at him. They called it he Mind Flayer, and Mike could not hear a word the thing said. Will could hear everything.

He was slowly unraveling at the seams.

Imagine pressing your thumb into his bruises. Hearing the way he cries out. I know you want to see that. I have seen your desires.

Will gulped, shaking his head and closing his eyes as if to ward off the unwanted thoughts. He’d never wanted anything like that.

Ah, now you lie to me. Shall I show you?

All of a sudden, Will was transported back to last summer. They’re in Mike’s room, tangled up together on the plush carpet. They’ve been play wrestling for a few minutes now, and though Mike has the upper hand, Will hasn’t yet given up. Still, he knows he has to get crafty. Mike’s shirt has ridden up, and Will can see the hint of a bruise on his friend’s hip. A weakness Will is happy to exploit. He takes one of his fingers and presses into it with a giggle.

The noise Mike makes is a breathy, yelping whine that stops Will in his tracks. His eyes widen as an unfamiliar feeling twists in his gut. He should’ve used the chance to jump on top of his friend, but he lays there frozen. His fingers twitch, and before he can think better of it, he twists his fingers into the bruise once more.

This time, Mike punches him. “Asshole! Stop doing that!”

Will goes bright red, curling into a protective ball. He’d known even then that there was something weird about the way he’d reacted to the sound Mike made. Friends didn’t―people didn’t enjoy causing each other pain like that.

Yes, but you’re not like them, are you? You’re full of wicked little desires.

“Will? Will, are you okay? Is it the Mind Flayer again?” Will could feel Mike shaking him, but he couldn’t bring himself to face his friend.

“It’s fine.” He said through gritted teeth. He didn’t have any wicked desires. He was just a normal kid. It was normal to tease your friends. Rough housing was normal. It was…was…

Liar.

Nothing about you is normal. You weren’t built to exist among the masses. You were built to be like me. To take what you want by force. Be honest. Don’t you think his flesh would taste good?

Will holds Mike beneath him, now. He is the one in control. His mouth descends and he digs his teeth into his friend’s shoulder. He bites down. And down, and down. He is horrified when his teeth hit muscle and bone and still don’t stop.

I’ve always wanted to eat human flesh. The voice in his head raved fanatically: Don’t you think it would taste good? The ultimate expression of power. Of dominance. The act of cementing yourself at the top of the food chain. Of using this person who once held power over you for sustenance. If I hadn’t slipped into unconsciousness that night, I think I would’ve eaten my mother first.

“Will!” Arms circled around him, and Will became vaguely aware that someone was holding him. Mike’s boney limbs crushed into Will’s torso, so tight it was almost hard to breathe. “It’s not real! Wake up! I’m here! I―Please, Will! I need you! I can’t do this on my own! Please!”

When Will finally came back to himself, he tumbled to the nearest corner of the room and emptied the contents of his stomach. “I don’t want that.” He said aloud, taking a shuddering gasp of breath. It did nothing to alleviate the dark feeling clinging to him. “I don’t.”

The vines writhed on the walls smugly, and he heard the Mind Flayer’s crazed laughter echoing in the distance. His eyes met Mike’s, and he could see the fear reflected there.

They needed to get out of this place soon.

All right. Eddie could admit it to himself. He did have a tiny bit of a crush on Steve Harrington. Which was his right to do as a citizen of the United States of America. It was a free country and all that jazz.

He wasn’t in a relationship. He and Katie were technically on a break and actually likely done forever. She’d started seeing someone else, so that was pretty much the universal sign things were well and truly over. Which was weird, because he really wasn’t even sure what he’d done wrong this time. They’d always been the type of couple who was constantly making up and breaking up over little things that didn’t matter. So, when they’d broken up over the summer, he honestly hadn’t thought that much of it. He figured they’d be back to business as usual two weeks later.

But then time passed. She started going out with this new guy whose name was technically Ethan, but who everybody called ‘Starburns’ because of the way he shaved his sideburns. So that was a bit of a blow to his confidence. Losing to Starburns.

Even worse, though was losing the rest of their friend group. For some reason, around the time he and Katie went on their break, everyone else stopped talking to him. He wasn’t sure why. When he’d asked any of them, they just got a weird look on their face and would say they ‘didn’t want to get involved’, or they ‘didn’t want to gossip.’ When he asked why they stopped inviting him to their hangouts, they just said that it just kind of happened that way and that it was nothing personal. He was crazy if they thought they were all deliberately excluding him.

Except that they kept not inviting him to stuff. And although they were friendly enough in small doses, nobody ever wanted to hang out after school. In the meantime, Katie and Starburns started making out in the cafeteria in the worst possible way where they tried to french kiss with their tongues, like, fully out of their mouths.

Anyways, it sucked and it was a weird end to a relationship, but it was over. She was dating Starburns now, and Eddie was free to like who he liked. There was no crime in it.

It was just a bit embarrassing that it was Steve Harrington. Eddie prided himself in his counterculture image. He was happy that he liked all the things everyone else hated and hated stuff everyone liked. Death to The Man. Jocks were overrated meatheads who thought they ruled the world just because they could throw a ball in a hoop. All that stuff. Having a crush on the ultimate little preppy popular jock was kind of opposite all of that.

Having a crush on Steve Harrington was just so…cliche. Everyone had a crush on him. Literally everyone. Eddie would be willing to bet that there wasn’t a single member of Hawkins High who didn’t have a crush on Steve Harrington. Well. Except maybe Nancy Wheeler.

Maybe that was mean-spirited. Nancy did seem to like Steve at least a little bit. She flirted with him like a normal girlfriend. But she usually just seemed kind of ambivalent to Steve’s whole schtick. Like she didn't get the appeal. What was there not to get?

1. Hot
2. Rich
3. Good-smelling
4. Well dressed. Cute little polos. Tiny shorts.
5. Nice hair. (Even nicer lately).
6. Good personality. Sweet. The type of guy who holds the door open for old ladies.
7. Big fucking eyes.
8. Cute, expressive face.
9. Good cook, which was a surprise because Eddie’d assumed Steve would be too spoiled to cook, but apparently not.
10. Legs

The list went on.

One time, Eddie saw the most agonizing scene where Steve came up from behind Nancy and did that cute little ‘guess who’ move that couples do. You know, the thing where the guy puts their hands over the girl’s eyes and she has to guess who it is. Nancy literally slapped Steve’s hand away, then scowled at him, and said ‘are you five years old?’ Like she was extremely put upon.

Like, what the fuck? It’s Steve fucking Harrington. What are you doing, woman? If literally anyone as hot as Steve did that to Eddie, he would fucking suck them dry. Soul just vacuum cleanered out through their dick. With his mouth. Like, WHAT. It was the cutest little thing to do. With Steve’s little giggly voice? Shut up. Like why would you get mad at that?! Why?

The way Steve’s smile fell, too. Heartbreaking. Nancy didn’t even apologize. She didn’t even seem to notice he’d been hurt.

Absolutely not. Eddie liked to think he was an open-minded person, but he would never in his life like Nancy Wheeler.

It was just against the natural order of the world. The Munson Doctrine, if you will. Among other things, it stated that if you’re fucking dating Steve Harrington, you treat him right. He is out of your league. Doesn’t matter who you are. He is. That’s just how it goes. He’s out of your league and you treat him like he’s a fucking prince. No, a king. No, a fucking god. You don’t get all snappy with him when he tries to be cute. You appreciate him. You love him. You let him do sappy shit and you better fucking bet you’re doing sappy shit back! That’s what being in a relationship is, Wheeler! What the hell did you think you were signing up for?!

On an unrelated note, when Eddie first met Steve, he thought they were true mates. For real. Like, actually got a whiff of that smell and was like ‘aha! my soulmate.’ Of course, he was wrong, but he spent a couple weeks in smug satisfaction before he realized his mistake. He’d watch the way the other girls and guys mooned over Steve and privately think to himself, ‘haha, you’re so funny. I’m the one who’s actually his mate.’

Then he learned in health class about aphroditism and things added up a little too well. Steve smelled like everyone’s true mate. That was why he was so popular. Like, yeah, he was pretty, rich, good at sports, and had a good personality. Obviously that drew a lot of people in. But statistically there had to be at least some people who wouldn’t see the appeal. Not in this case. In this case, everyone seemed to see the appeal.

After that, the whole crush was so embarrassing that Eddie abandoned it entirely. He couldn’t even think about Steve Harrington for a while without the meanest part of himself doubling over laughing at how stupid Eddie could be for thinking the prettiest guy in school could be true mates with him. Absolute maximum levels of delusion, there.

But here’s the thing. You know what was more embarrassing than having a crush on Steve Harrington? Losing your girlfriend to fucking Starburns. Starburns. So, you know, even if you batted within your league, sometimes you still ended up heartbroken, humiliated, and confused. So, might as well aim high. ‘Shoot for the stars, even if you fail, you’ll land on the moon’ or whatever the saying was.

He was a free man living in a free country and he was going to have a crush on Steve Harrington if he goddamn pleased.

Even if Steve was currently having a mental breakdown or something. Or was playing a prank, maybe? During their conversation in the car, Steve had seemed a bit too sincere for it to be a prank. But it definitely wasn’t real. Eddie could maybe believe in time travel with enough data backing it up, but he drew the line at flesh monsters and mutants.

Eddie wondered for the hundredth time if he should’ve gotten Steve connected to some kind of mental health services. It was the right thing to do, especially if he thought this was a psychotic break or something, but…it just kinda seemed like he was narcing on the poor guy. Steve had trusted him big time in opening up to him, and Eddie didn’t want to betray the guy. Besides, it wasn’t like Steve was doing any harm.

Except for the harm he did to my heart, Eddie thought dramatically.

It was kind of heartbreaking, to think you were becoming friends with someone and that they were in a right mind to do that, and then find out that the only reason they would ever talk to you is because they were not in a good mental state. It wasn’t Steve’s fault, but…Eddie’d just let his hopes fly too high. He’d started staying up late at night imagining fantastical scenarios in which the two of them got mated and had a million babies.

It was Eddie’s fault for getting all excited about things so quickly. He’d always been too much of a romantic and he’d always been kind of in love with Steve Harrington. So of course he was going to get his hopes up. But still. He should’ve never let himself get so excited.

A breeze picked up, ruffling his hair out of his face and distracting him from his thoughts. He shivered, pulling his jacket a bit tighter around himself. He should’ve bundled up more. Honestly, he shouldn’t have gone on this walk at all. It was November. People didn’t just go on pleasant little nightly walks in November.

He felt kind of like an idiot as he trudged through the suburban streets. He’d been walking for almost an hour now, and it was starting to feel a bit crazy. It wasn’t even nice scenery. The only leaves still left on the trees were brown, and the suburbs weren’t exactly the best place to do a nature walk, either.

If he’d gone south instead of west, he’d have had a much nicer time walking through the forest, at least. Instead of walking down this boring road full of identical houses. Not that he could see much, either way. It was pitch black outside. There weren’t even any stars.

His ears and nose were frozen and he wondered for the hundredth time why he was out here at all.

There wasn’t a good answer. There was just a…feeling. He couldn’t really explain it. It was just the kind of thing people talked about, like how God told them they should be somewhere and they listened and then it turned out it saved their life or something. Eddie wasn’t sure if he believed in God, but he couldn’t quite ignore the feeling itching at his skin. And it was telling him that he needed to be out here, in the blistering cold, walking down a suburban street.

So here he was.

If he wasn’t walking, he might’ve missed the car. It was stopped at a stop sign, and it looked pretty much normal in every possible way. Someone driving would think that it was just someone stopped a little too long. Probably just looking for something in their car or distracted by a conversation. They’d honk and pass by and move on with their life.

Because Eddie was walking, though, he had a lot of time to realize that the car was stopped for way too long. He walked down two whole blocks and didn’t see it move. It was weird. The brightness of the tail-lights told him the car wasn’t in park. There was someone in there pressing on the brake. But for…at least fifteen minutes. It was strange.

Were they dead? Injured? As Eddie approached, he couldn’t help but try to look inside. The windows were too dark to see, though, so he found himself knocking on the driver’s side window. “Um, hello? Are you okay in there? Do you need any help?”

The window came down agonizingly slowly. It didn’t matter, though. As soon as it cracked the smallest bit open, Eddie could smell the pheromones wafting from the inside. All of a sudden, every logical thought left him.

Omega. My omega. My mate. In heat. In distress! My omega mate heat distress protect⁵⁷!

The incoherent jumble of protective instinct slammed into him and he immediately stepped back, covering his nose with his hand. Shit. That was stronger than anything he’d ever smelled before.

Steve Harrington sat in the driver’s seat, staring blankly at Eddie. His big eyes looked impossibly sparkly in the dim light. “E-Eddie?” He asked, and his voice was so small and sweet that it propelled Eddie into motion. In an instant, Eddie’s hands left his nose and he leaned back into Steve’s space.

“Yes, darling? Are you okay? What do you need?”

Giant tears bubbled out of Steve’s eyes, trailing down his perfect cheeks. “I’m scared.” He admitted, and Eddie longed to hold him in his arms. He didn’t want to protect this omega. He needed to protect this omega. He wouldn’t rest until his darling was safe.

“I’m here,” He said, standing so he could lean through the open window and caress his mate’s face. “I’m here. I’ll protect you.”

“Gonna die.” Steve answered, and fuck that. Over Eddie’s dead body. He snarled, scanning the empty neighborhood street for any sign of danger. When he saw nothing, he turned his attention back to Steve.

The biggest danger right now was the car. If Steve took his foot off the break, then it might start moving, and then Eddie might not be able to catch up, and Steve was in no state to drive. So, with that in mind, Eddie leaned over the omega and shifted the gear until the car was in park. There. No more danger.

“I got you, here, shhh, you’re going to be okay. I’m here, see? Look, there’s nothing wrong.”

“It’s my destiny. Will still went missing, there’s still the demogorgon, and I’m gonna die.” The word demogorgon almost fully shocked Eddie out of his pheromone-drunk state.

“A demogorgon? Like from D&D?”

“Yup.” Steve answered soberly, more tears falling down his face. “Scary.”

Eddie’s brows pinched together. “Um…yes, that would be scary. Theoretically. Uh, wait, what happened to you?”

Bottom lip trembling, Steve presented his hand to Eddie’s view. There was a deep gash in his finger almost to the bone. Dried blood stained his hand. Eddie’s brief bout of consciousness disappeared. “You’re hurt?” He demanded, unable to keep the alpha growl from his voice.

Steve nodded miserably. “Gonna die.” He repeated, and Eddie was not having that.

“No. I―me. You.” He answered, too far gone to form a coherent sentence. “I protect you. I’ll―protect. Move.”

He shuffled Steve out of the way so he could pull himself into the driver’s seat. Steve didn’t fully exit, instead electing to do a strange little perch, half on Eddie’s lap and half on the center console.

“Mad?” He asked, head tilting to the side charmingly.

“Not mad.” Eddie sighed, pulling Steve closer. “Protecting you.”

Steve melted into him like butter, draping his whole body over the alpha’s. Eddie wasn’t extremely aware of what happened, those next couple of minutes. It was lost in a haze of Steve’s sugary, perfect smell. Somehow, they managed to gt back to the trailer safely.

“You’re safe,” he kept murmuring into Steve’s hair. “I’ll protect you.”

Sniffling, Steve wiped his tears on Eddie’s shirt. “If I’m safe, though, who’s gonna die?”

Jonathan walked through the woods, leaves crinkling underfoot. There was something peaceful about walking through the forest at night. Especially like this, so far away from the search parties that the moment wouldn’t be ruined by having to overhear the neighborhood gossip. He was all alone out here, with nothing but the towering trees to keep him company.

He liked it that way. He’d always been a bit of a loner. He’d never liked being in the middle of things quite as much as he liked standing at a distance, acting as a silent observer. The less people noticed him, the better.

He liked noticing other people, though. Which is maybe what made him stop, as he walked past the Harrington’s backyard.

There was something about the scene there, by the pool.

Carol Perkins stood at the edge of it, looking into the water like it might hold the answers to life’s biggest questions. She wore a bulky sweater, and it was clear she hadn’t dressed to swim. Behind her, Tommy Hagan wore a set of bright yellow swim trunks and a placating smile. His body had the traces of the rough sport he played, littered with bruises. His knees were skinned and bloody. He held up a beer as a peace offering, but she didn’t see it. Her eyes filled with sadness as she played with the ring on her right hand.

Even from a distance, Jonathan could see the tension on her face, the way she looked like she had the world on her shoulders. It was that expression that made him lift his camera. He wanted to know more. Why did she look so lonely when her boyfriend was right behind her?

He would probably never know the answer. That was the thing about watching things from a distance. All you ever saw were these little snapshots. He dropped his camera back onto his chest and moved on.

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