Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

May 16, 1983.

The three of them, Tommy, Carol, and Steve, had always been kind of the popular ones, the cool ones, the ones everyone wanted to hang out with. Steve couldn’t even really remember what it had been like before people liked him.

When he had started playing basketball in primary school and gotten good at it rather quickly, his goal had never been to be popular. His goal had been to be like one of those cool people he saw playing on the TV, which he now was very aware of would never be happening because he was simply not that good. But in middle school, when everyone started to admire him for his skills and then for his looks, he realized that being popular was kind of like the small-town version of the people on the TV. Not quite as good, but pretty close. He still got people cheering for him at the games he played, he got love letters shoved into his locker and invitations to every party around.

Steve guessed it was similar with Tommy and Carol. Everybody liked to be admired, right? They probably liked that, too.

But with being treated like they were the best, the coolest, the most exciting and interesting people around, came the feeling that they were better than everyone else. Steve didn’t realize it very often, that he looked down on others and treated them, well, not very nicely. It just happened sometimes, like he’d gotten used to it. Most of the time, though, it was just fun. To talk about what everyone else was up to, who was a bit weird and who seemed kind of crazy, that wouldn’t harm anyone, right?

“Did you guys hear it already?”, Tommy asks after placing his lunch tray on the table. Steve and Carol had already been waiting for him, Steve had almost finished his own lunch by now. Better get that crap down fast before he could realize how disgusting it actually tasted, he told himself.

“Hear what already?” Carol runs her fingers through her thick, red curls. She had already given up on eating whatever was supposed to be mash and steak with peas and was instead having a chocolate bar from the vending machine.

“That weird loser with the drunkard father that works in the disgusting gas station on Main Street, you know that one, where Ryan always gets his pot? Anyways, I think his names John or Jonathan or some shit like that.”

Steve shoves another fork full of mash and steak into his mouth. He doesn’t really know John, Jonathan, whoever. He saw him a few times walking around school and he’s pretty sure they’re in the same English class since he had to retake the course from last year, but he can’t remember ever talking to him.

Jonathan always looks a bit dirty and like his clothes are from the Goodwill his mother donates their old stuff too. Steve doesn’t like that store very much, it always smelled kind of weird and the old woman behind the counter had given him dirty looks when he had last helped his mother carry their things there. Rude.

“What about that guy?”, Steve asks, still chewing, for which he gets a push from Carol.

“Jennifer said that he presented today, in first period, like, his mom came to pick him up and everything- “

“And what’s so special about that?” Carol wrinkles the package of her chocolate bar in between her fingers. “Why should I care about the designation of some weirdo? Not like it’s a rare thing for people to present at our age. Guess he’s a bit younger, but, well. Pretty sure Sophie was picked up on Tuesday, too.”

Tommy rolls his eyes. “If you’d let me finish, you’d know. He’s a fucking omega. Isn’t that crazy? Though, if I think about it, not too much. Guess that whole family is full of fags.”

Carol giggles and Steve grins. “What did you expect from someone like that?”, he asks. “But, win for you. Maybe he’ll spread his legs for you if you call him.” Carol’s laugh gets louder, and Steve finishes the last bites of his dinner, shoving the tray away from him.

Tommy grins, too, but shows Steve his middle finger. “Piss off, Steve. I’m not one of those queers.”

Tommy’s the only one of their trio who had already presented, which makes sense, given that he’s the oldest. He had his first rut over spring break, right after his 17th birthday. His designation is obviously something he’s proud off. Even Steve can pick up on the quite overpowering alpha scent Tommy gives off, despite the fact that he hadn’t presented yet and therefore doesn’t take that much notice of the scents around him. Sometimes, when Tommy’s not around, Carol complains about it to him, too, though she doesn’t dislike the heavy liquorice scent as much as Steve does. Mainly because she likes liquorice, while he can’t stand that crap.

“Ah, Tommy, don’t say that. Imagine, the sweet little Omega begging for your knot! Oh, Tommy, oh, touch me, please, give me your big knot!”, Carol moans loudly, getting a few weird looks from the people around them, but a big laugh out of her friends. Tommy tries to hit her across the table, but she ducks away with her typical grin still on her face.

“As if I’d touch that creep”, Tommy says, wrinkling his nose at the thought. “I bet you he’ll end up with some weirdo, just like his mother.”

“Probably”, Steve shrugs. He doesn’t know the guy’s father, because Steve’s own father didn’t like him going to that gas station, saying that only creeps and homeless people went there, and instead sent Steve to the one closer to their home. He’s probably right, if that guy really is as bad as he hears from everyone else.

“Well, at least he’s an omega, so he’ll be good for something”, Carol grins. Tommy returns her smirk, shoving a fork full of food into his mouth. The coke Carol got from the vending machine earlier hisses as she opens it. Steve swallows. She’s right, even though the sentence sounds kind of disgusting, he thinks.

July 14, 1983.

Of course, Steve’s own presentation happens at the most unfortunate time.

Well, probably not the most unfortunate, if Steve actually thinks about it. He’s very glad that it didn’t happen in school and that nobody knows about his business, but it does happen in the first week of summer break, which is pretty much the second most unfortunate time, because it’s the only week of summer break his parents had planned to spend at home. And now, Steve’s lying in his bed, with an uncomfortable boner and slick pooling between his legs. He feels hot all over. The air around him smells sweet from his still developing scent.

Steve’s a fucking omega.

Steve Harrington is an omega.

He’s so done.

It’s not fair. He could’ve been anything, could’ve never presented for all he cared, but not this. It shouldn’t even be possible. King Steve of Hawkins High, basketball star, the hair Harrington, was just not supposed to be an omega. Shouldn’t, couldn’t an omega. Yet, here he is, hot and uncomfortable and cold and sweaty and shivering all at once. Life isn’t fair, he thinks to himself.

Steve sits up, or rather tries to, because somehow, he just ends up on the cold floor leaning against his bed. He feels weirdly conscious but also very far away from everything that’s actually happening.

“Steve? Breakfast!”, he hears his mom yell from the kitchen downstairs.

Even if he had the strength to stand up and go downstairs, he doesn’t want too. His parents will be there, his father, most specifically. He can already hear what insults will be directed at him. How could he disgrace their family like that? How could he be so weak?

Because omegas are weak, Steve thinks. He’s weak. He’s weak and a disgrace and a loser and “no son of mine”, his father whispers in his head. Only good for one thing, which is spreading his legs and letting some disgusting alpha fuck him and carry their pups. For some reason, the only alpha scent he can think of is Tommy’s, which makes him want to gag.

Steve feels a tear run down his cheek, which he quickly wipes away. This, this weird heat shit, is already weak enough, he doesn’t need to make it any worse. No crying, nothing else of that omega-loser shit, like nests and alpha scents and whatever else there is. He really should’ve listened better in biology.

“Steve Harrington, downstairs, now!”, it’s his father’s voice radiating through the house, way too loud and making him flinch, arms wrapped around himself. He straightens them, instead trying to grab at the carpet. He doesn’t want his father to see him like this. His mom? Not ideal, either, but maybe. She’s an omega herself, at least, so maybe she’d understand a bit. But she’s a woman, so it’s different. And she’s not the son of Daniel Harrington, so it’d be even more different.

Steve hears the footsteps going up the stairs, shivering with every vibration of them. “That idiot probably drank too much last night”, he hears his father mumble. “I’ll show him the consequences of that.”

He did drink last night, there had been a party at Carol’s house, but really not that much. He had already felt a bit light heated and feverish, which he now realized had been foreshadowing for his unfortunate situation. A part of him wishes he had taken up Carol’s invitation to sleep over last night, then maybe he wouldn’t be so damn scared right now. On the other hand, he didn’t think he could take Carol’s judgy stare and harsh words. “He’s an omega, at least he’ll be good for something”, was what she had said about Jonathan, Steve knew the boy’s name now, just a month or two ago. Steve had laughed about their mean comments then. Would they say the same thing about him, now? Call him a queer or a weirdo? Shit, fuck, they couldn’t know either.

“Steve Harrington, are you in here?”, his father asks. His voice sounds louder and angrier than usual, but Steve isn’t sure if it actually is or if it’s just the heat talking.

A soft “yeah” is all that leaves his mouth. He sounds scared, even to himself. His new, still not very noticeable omega scent reeks of heat and fear.

His father opens the door and Steve shrinks in on himself even more. Father’s already wearing his suit and tie, ready to go to work, but is still holding his coffee mug in his hand. The alpha scent coming off of him is more overpowering than Tommy’s scent had ever been, as if he had thrown a whole vial of almond aroma over himself.

Steve counts the seconds until his father realizes what’s going. It doesn’t take very long, one, two, he barely gets to three.

“What is this, Steve?”, his voice is suddenly very calm again, but somehow that’s even worse than the loud anger.

“I’m sorry”, he says. “I’m sorry, I don’t know how it happened. I don’t want it, I promise, it just happened and I don’t know what to do- “

The rest happens in a blur. His father yells, the coffee mug falls and then his mother is there. In between, he catches the insults his father throws around, he had never had much of a filter. “Not my son”, “good for nothing”, “pathetic”, “a fucking omega” and “what good will he be for apart from spreading his legs”. He can’t seem to keep track of them.

Somewhere in the middle of this chaos, his father leaves and his mother helps him into the bathroom, away from his father’s anger into the cool water of the bathtub. It’s nicer, with her sweeter surrounding him, but it’s still not good. The vanilla bean smell isn’t the way it usually smells, but like it’s about to go bad. She smells of fear and shame, which makes his head turn.

After she has helped him into new clothes, his father comes back home. He presses two packages into Steve’s hands. Omega suppressants and scent blocking patches, the labels read. “Take them now”, his father says. “We don’t have the time to deal with your heat now, you can have it at a more convenient time. When we know how to have no one find out that you’re… one of them. You don’t want anyone to know, right?”

Steve shakes his head. “No, of course not.” Becoming the laughing stock of the school, being at the receiving end of Carol’s and Tommy’s judging, no, he can go without that. He does not want to end up like that Jonathan kid, not if he can find a way around it.

But it feels weird when he walks up the stairs to his room again after taking one of the pills and putting on the patches. He’s only had his scent for half a day, barely knows what he would smell like, but he already misses it. This is uncomfortable and cold, somehow, even though his mind is still clouded from the heat.

August 24, 1883.

It’s weird to go back to school after presenting, even if nobody knows. Of course, he has seen Carol and Tommy and a few other people over the summer, but seeing everyone again is still very different. He has already made too many useless trips to the bathroom over the last few days, just to make sure his patches were still on and nothing was noticeable of his omega scent. It wasn’t, but it still worried him.

Carol had presented over the summer too, just two weeks after Steve, as a beta. It fit her, given that both her parents were betas, too. Somehow though, Steve had expected her to be an alpha with how loud and confident and headstrong she was. But he had also not expected himself to be an omega, so maybe he was just kind of shit at guessing.

Not much had changed about his life since his presentation. He hadn’t expected it to, not really, because after all, nobody knew what had happened. But it felt wrong for it to all be the same. The only thing that changed was his sex life, really, which showed through getting significantly less blowjobs, out of the fear that anyone would notice his changed anatomy. When he was fucking someone, though, nobody noticed his different genitals, so he had still had the occasional hook up over the summer.

Currently he was sitting in calculus, which wasn’t great, but at least it wasn’t English. Carol and Tommy weren’t in the course, Steve’s pretty sure they had chemistry or some similar bullshit right now.

Most of the people in the course were really uninteresting. He was seated next to Jeremy, someone who was on the basketball team with him, but who was just unimaginably boring and way too interested in the course. And so, he spends most of the period staring at the back of the girl in front of him, he’s pretty sure her name is Nancy or something like that. She was cute, sweet, soft. She’d probably turn out to be an omega, he thought. If he wasn’t one, she’d surely be the type of person his father would want him to date. Or maybe would still want him to do so now, just so that nobody would suspect anything.

Not that he’d mind dating an omega, not really. He didn’t really feel like an omega himself. He wasn’t small or dainty or submissive, and he had never really tried the stereotypical omega stuff, getting fucked or building a nest or anything like that, but it didn’t seem particularly special to him, either.

He stares out the window, watching the small white clouds float by. Maybe the summer morning would’ve been pretty if it wasn’t for school and everything else going wrong.

The Jonathan kid was in calculus, too. Steve didn’t notice him very often, he sat at the back of the classroom and never said anything. He was good at not getting anyone to notice him. Sometimes, Steve did, though, and wondered how he dealt with being an omega.

Jonathan had presented early, even. He’s pretty sure that would be even harder, getting used to all this stuff at 15 or 16 or whatever age Jonathan had been. Though, Tommy had said something about his creepy father moving out, apparently he had left town, so maybe Jonathan had it better now.

Steve would like his father to move out, too. His parents were gone even more often now than they had been before ever since he had presented. Maybe they couldn’t stand to be around him anymore. He got that, he could barely stand it himself. Why couldn’t he have just been an alpha, or a beta, or literally anything else? It would’ve all been better than this, than being weak and soft and depended on some pills.

“Steve, what answer have you found for exercise three?”, his teacher asks. Steve just stares at the empty work sheet in front of him. Shit.

November 1, 1983.

Nancy Wheeler really is just like he expected her to be. She’s kind and sweet and way too soft for her own good. Tommy and Carol think she’s a bore, which Steve can agree with at least a little bit, because she studies way too much for his taste. But they also think she’s loser, which Steve isn’t quite on board with, because he kind of likes her.

When they talked the first time, it was on accident, during some exercise for their calculus class which they were supposed to do in pairs. Steve was late, and Nancy was the only one left to pair up with, so they ended up talking. It was unusual to talk to someone new, but she was nice and did the exercises with ease and looked at him in that enamoured way that most people saw him in. It was flattering and she was pretty and he was easy, sue him.

So, he invited her to a party of one of his basketball teammates after the game last weekend.

She came with her friend Barbara, some red headed girl he had never noticed before, but she was nice enough. He was pretty sure Barbara didn’t really like him, though he wasn’t sure if it was just him or some sort of jealousy issue. Or maybe it was Carol, who apparently shared gym class with Barbara and liked to make not very nice comments in the locker room, like Carol usually did.

Nancy and Barbara were practically glued at the hip, though, so he tried his best to be nice. He was good at playing nice, at a charming smile and some winks here and there, and the night ended with Nancy and him making out in the backyard of his teammates home and him driving her home.

It had been nice. Soft and nice, just like Nancy Wheeler. Steve liked Nancy.  

He could probably date her, if he wanted too. He kind of did, but there was that small little thing holding him back. He hadn’t dated since he had presented. He’d had a few hook ups and shared some kisses here and there, but hadn’t had a real date or relationship in quite a while. His ex-girlfriend Kathy and him had broken up almost half a year ago now, in March, and he did find himself longing for someone every now and then. Carol and Tommy had started dating in September and ever since then he’d kind of become the third wheel. They weren’t too bad unlike some of the other couples at school and never ate each other up in front of him, probably because they did occasionally kiss or have sex before they got together, but it still wasn’t great. Having a girlfriend would be nice. Would be exciting and new and get him out of that hole that his presentation threw him in.

And so, this morning, he’d stuck a note into Nancy Wheelers locker, asking her to have lunch with them.

Now, he was sitting in his art course, which basically meant whispering with Tommy the whole time, and his heart was beating weirdly fast. The whole thing with Nancy made him more nervous than usual, he had already realized that when they kissed on Saturday. It was probably also because the still rather new omega thing.

He really hoped his second gender wouldn’t be a problem in his aspiring relationship with Nancy Wheeler. Not like she’d ever know, his father would never allow that. He’d probably find someone to cut his scent glands out before letting him tell anyone that he was an omega.

The thought had been unserious and a joke, but it made a shiver run down Steve’s back.

He probably shouldn’t be worrying too much. He didn’t even know if this would turn into anything serious. And anyways, Nancy hadn’t even presented yet, she was barely sixteen, she had a year or more left until she would. He shouldn’t be worrying about the small possibility of her turning out to be an omega, too. Somehow, though this possibility seemed rather big, with how damn omega she looked and acted and seemed in every way.

But Steve wasn’t really an omega, right? It was more like he happened to be one. An unfortunate circumstance that didn’t fit or define him whatsoever. So even if Nancy Wheeler turned out to be an omega, that wouldn’t really matter.

Art class is over quickly enough. Their teacher, a woman who should probably have retired already, never cared much if they did anything, as long as he could show off a decent artwork at the end of it. He had already taken her course the last two years, because it was the easiest pass there was. “Come on, Harrington, hurry”, Tommy complains, already waiting for him in the doorway. “I don’t want to get stuck with the leftovers.”

“Coming”, Steve says, pushing his notebook into his backpack, which was basically only lying on the table so he could pretend to be doing something, before following Tommy into the direction of the cafeteria.

Carol is already waiting for them, so Tommy goes to pick up their three plates of way too greasy pizza slices. Steve isn’t quite sure how they manage to make the cafeteria food the most disgusting thing he’s ever eaten. Prison would probably be better than this. Carol laughs when he shares this revelation with her, before going on to complain about her parents, who won’t let her have sleepovers at Tommy’s house anymore ever since the two of them got together.

“You could just tell them you’re staying over at mine, you know?”, he tells her, just as Tommy places their lunch plates in front of them. “Thanks, man.” Steve says, looking at the greasy thing critically. At least the cherry tomatoes look decent. Like real tomatoes.

“I tried that”, Carol says, grabbing Tommy’s coke and taking a sip. “I told them I slept over at Jennifer’s after the party, but they actually came over there to pick me up and I obviously wasn’t there. I don’t think I’ve ever heard dad yell so loudly. No idea why they started this bullshit now, as if I haven't had sex with anyone else before, or as if I hadn't with Tommy yet. This is so useless.”

Tommy shrugs. “I'll just climb into your room, that shouldn't be too hard.”

“Like a ninja”, Steve adds. 

“Maybe keep those comments for your flirting with Wheeler”, Carol grins at him, popping a tomato into her mouth. “So, Steve, did you two get to anything?” Tommy wiggles his eyebrows at him. 

“Shut up”, Steve leans back in his seat. “We just made out a bit.”

“And here I thought your little goodie two shoes would’ve wanted to wait until marriage”, Carol teases, making both of them grin, even though Steve shows her his middle finger.

“You’re such an ass, Carol”, he complains, taking a bite of the pizza. It tastes like flour and oil. They should start ordering their lunch from the pizza place down the street, that’d probably be better for their taste buds. “Anyways. I like her.”

“Nancy Wheeler and Steve Harrington, never thought I’d hear that”, Carol’s long fingernails click against the coke can. “What’s there to like about her? She’s like a blank piece of paper.”

Steve shrugs. He didn’t really know, mainly because he didn’t really know her yet, but he could get to know her, right? She most likely wasn’t blank paper. She did too much for that, always busy with some test or a project or similar. Her paper wasn’t blank, just very… tidy. “She’s nice. Sweet. I’m just telling you not to scare her off.”

“What are you doing with nice?”, Carol asks, at the same time as Tommy says “We’d never”. The grin on his face proves the opposite of that statement.

Steve wants to answer, but then he sees Nancy Wheeler standing on the side of the cafeteria, waiting for her red-haired friend to finish paying for her food. She’s wearing a pink pastel shirt with little ruffles on the arms. It’s girly and fun and it fits to her. With one hand she’s carrying the lunch tray, while the other is tightly holding onto the strap of her shoulder bag. She really does look sweet and innocent, standing around there, almost a bit lost. He can kind of see Carols point. He doesn’t think he’s ever went out with someone like Nancy Wheeler before.

There’s a first time for everything though, so Steve waves her over with a smile on his face. Her friend, what was her name again, Barbara or something, trails behind her.

“Hey, Steve”, Nancy smiles at him, though a bit careful, like she can’t believe he wants to talk to her.

“Hey, Nancy”, he answers. “Sit with us.” He looks at Barbara. “You too, if you’d like.” If Nancy comes as a package deal, he’ll take that for now. She seems like the type of friend to immediately leave if her friend wouldn’t like him, so he’ll try and be nice to Barbara.

The two of them look at each other. The situation reminds him of those movie scenes, were the two childhood best friends make an unspoken decision and then answer at the same time, like they share a braincell. It’s Nancy who answers, though. “Yeah, why not. Thank you.”

Steve grins, sliding a bit to the side so there’s more space on the table. “No trouble, Nance.” It’s a cute nickname. He thinks he’ll stick with it, especially because of the way Nancy’s cheek turn into a soft pink. “Those are Tommy and Carol, by the way. My friends. You probably know them.”

Nancy smiles at the two of them sitting on the opposite side of the table, while Barbara just sits down to stare at her food. She really seems to dislike them. He probably should blame Carol. She can be quite mean, especially if she’s already in a bad mood, which she usually is after gym class. Barbara probably ended up on the receiving end of that anger.

Lunch is a bit of an awkward affair. Steve tries his best to make conversation, Nancy seems to try that too, but she’s naturally quieter and Tommy and Carol don’t help with their usual teasing. Barbara, or Barb, as Nancy calls her, barely spoke three words by the time she gets up again to walk to her next class. Carol and Tommy leave for the same reason just a few moments later, so at least he gets Nancy to himself for a few more minutes before their next period.

“So”, Steve asks. “Any plans for the weekend yet?”

“I have to study”, of course that’s the first thing she thinks of, Steve shouldn’t be surprised. “But maybe I could find some time, if it’s important.”

He smiles at her. She really is pretty. Her big, brown eyes kind of remind him off a deer. She’s graceful like one, too. And with those shorter hair strands framing her face beautifully… “That sounds good. I have another game on Saturday, if you’d like to watch. Maybe we could get dinner after.”

“Seems fun”, Nancy smiles back, but imminently looks down at her fingers again which are nervously gripping onto the table. “I think I can make some time, for that.”

“I’m excited then”, Steve grins. “You can be my lucky charm. For the game.”

Nancy turns a tad pink again. “I’ll do my best.”

“Gotta go now”, Steve grabs his back bag. “You’ll be back for lunch tomorrow, right?” His hand grazes hers as he stands up, and she looks up at him with her sweet doe eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, I will”, she says. “I’ll bring Barb, if that’s okay. She’s, like, my best friend.”

“No trouble. See you then, Nance.” He grins at her at her, and she waves carefully as he walks away. It feels nice, to have someone admire him, like him again. And for some reasons, he seems to like her too.

November 8, 1983.

Steve didn’t think he’d ever dislike it if something was going on in Hawkins. Nothing ever happened here, except for the small fourth of July celebration or occasional basketball game. He can’t remember anything else. Hawkins was a small town where everyone knew everyone else way too well and were nothing was going on.

Except for now, of course. He had first heard about the situation yesterday on his way home from school through the radio. Some child had gone missing. Steve didn’t know the child, because he didn’t really know any children except for Tommy’s younger sister who was like three. He’d also seen Nancy’s younger brother a few times, he had basically caught Steve sneaking into Nancy’s room yesterday, so he was obviously there.

He kind of expected the pup to be back by now. Carol, who he had taken home after their last lesson yesterday, had guessed that the child had just ran away for a day or two and would probably be back the next morning. But that didn’t seem to be the case. When Steve turns on the radio on his way to school that Tuesday morning, just after the last notes of “Come on Eileen” play, the radio host starts yet another missing person announcement.

“The small town of Hawkins is still in shock after a boy disappeared yesterday. His name is Will Byers, he’s twelve years old and described to be around 4´9 feet tall, has brown hair and was last seen wearing a red vest with a plaid shirt underneath. The search has been going on for twenty-four hours now, but no signs of life were found. If you know any information about the missing person, Will Byers, please don’t hesitate to inform the local police station”, the woman reading the announcement sounds monotone. She repeats her words once more, before the next song starts playing.

Will Byers is missing. Steve’s pretty sure he’s heard that name before, but he can’t quite place it.

The drive to school only takes him about four minutes. He takes his usual parking spot next to Tommy’s car. Tommy’s there already, he’s making out with Carol, hands wandering underneath her striped turtleneck. Steve can practically see Tommy’s hard on when he gets out of the car, they should really tone it down at school. Not like he has never gotten off in the bathroom on the third floor, he was just making out with Nancy there yesterday, but doing it in the middle of the parking lot, at eight in the morning, really?

“Morning”, he greets them while he gets out of the car. Luckily, they have stepped a few feet apart by now, but Tommy’s overpowering scent still hangs in the air around him. He likes Carols scent more, dandelions and soft cotton, but because she’s a beta and because Tommy likes covering her in his scent, he can barely make it out.

“Well, hello there”, Tommy grins at him. “What’d you do last night, Steve, I’m wondering?”

Steve grins a bit, looking to the side. “Not much. Just climbed through Nancy’s window and made out with her a bit.”

Oh, Nancy. He likes Nancy, he really does. More than he thought he would. She’s not as soft as he thought at first, just not as loud as most people he hangs out with. She’s still headstrong, a bit like Carol, but without the anger that girl has inside her. But she’s not afraid to say what she thinks and Steve likes that about her. He also likes it when she’s concentrating, she always bites her lower lip a bit then. And he especially likes the way she says his name when she’s annoyed at him but still thinks he’s cute.

“Never took you for a gentleman”, Carol says, grinning at him as well. “Did you get to fuck her yet?”

He shakes his head. “No. Her parents were home and she didn’t want to. I like hanging out with her either way, you know? She’s good to talk to.”

Carol ruffles his hair as they walk the path from the parking lot to school. Steve tries his best to get it back to the way it looked before, while his friends laugh next to him. He spends more than enough time on his hair, they really should appreciate it more. “You could invite her over”, Tommy says. “Not like your parents are ever home.”

The comment hurts a bit more than it should, somewhere deep inside of him, but it’s easy enough to swallow it down. “And what am I supposed to say, huh? Nance, want to come over because I’d really like to sleep with you?”, Steve says instead.

Carol looks at him like he’s a bit of an idiot and hits him against the arm. “Don’t be so dumb, Steve”, he flinches just the slightest bit, but he’s not sure if it’s because she touched him or called him dumb. “You’ve got to let it happen naturally. We can come too, and you can invite her nerdy friend, then we’ll call it a party.”

“Have some fun, drink a beer, that makes everything easier”, Tommy adds.

“Yeah, I might. Seems like a decent idea.” Steve holds the door open for them and they make their way inside. It’s already pretty busy, classes will start soon.

After Carol gets her books from her locker, Tommy and him have art now, so he pretty much doesn’t need anything, they walk down the hall towards the classrooms, just as Steve catches sight of Nancy. She’s wearing black pants and a pastel blue pullover, with flowers embroidered on the white collar. It’s sweet. Everything about Nancy Wheeler is sweet. Even her kisses taste sweet, like strawberry lip gloss. She’s talking to Barbara, who’s holding her flash cards. It looks like there’s few more than last night. Nancy’s probably still worried about that damn test, even though Steve knows she’s going to ace it. She has probably studied more for that test than Steve has ever, really.

“Oh god, just talk to her, idiot, and stop standing around”, Carol mumbles, keeping her pace. Steve notices that he stopped walking and jogs the few steps until he catches up to them.

Nancy and Barbara are walking down the hall towards them, and Steve can just catch Barbara saying something about molecules before he snatches the flash cards out of her hands. “Hey!”, Nancy complains as he stops to stand in the hallway, Tommy and Carol leaning against the wall beside him.

“I don’t know, I think you’ve studied enough, Nance”, he says, looking through the cards. He can’t remember half these terms. Did he really take this course last year?

“Steve- “, Nancy starts.

“I’m telling you, you know, you got this”, he smiles at her and almost has the urge to tuck her hair behind her ear. “Don’t worry. Now, on to more important matters. My dad has left town on a conference and my mom’s gone with him, because you know, she doesn’t trust him.”

“Good call”, Tommy laughs.

“So, are you in?”, Steve asks.

“In for what?”, Nancy asks in return, with her eyebrows creased in confusion. It’s endearing, really.

Carol rolls her eyes just a bit. “No parents? Big house?”

“A party?”

“Ding, ding, ding!”

“It’s Tuesday”, Nancy says, still with the same cute eyebrow crease.

“It’s Tuesday, oh my god”, Tommy mocks, at the same time as Carol laughs softly. As much as the two of them are his best friends and can be really helpful at times, a bit of kindness when he’s trying to spend some time with the girl he likes would be very much helpful. Especially because Nancy’s looking a bit hurt.

“Come on”, he says, trying to shut down his friends mocking. “It’ll be lowkey. It’ll just be us. What do you say? Are you in or are you out?”

“Uhm…”, Nancy starts, just as Carol looks into the direction of the doorway and says: “Oh god. Look.” She uses that tone that she always uses when she seems like she’s being sweet, but thinking the complete opposite.

Steve follows her view. “Oh, god, that’s depressing.” It’s Jonathan, Jonathan Byers, and now Steve remembers where he had heard the missing pups name before. Of course, that’s the brother of Jonathan Byers.

Jonathan is in the same clothes that Steve has probably seen him hundreds of times in, an out washed jeans and not quite fitting jean jacket. He’s pinning a flyer to the school pinboard. He looks miserable, really.

Steve never really knows what to say in situations like this. Usually, when it’s just the three of them, Carol will wrinkle her nose and they’ll all laugh to themselves. But now, he feels a bit bad for the guy. This isn’t like always, is it? This is about someone being gone, lost, missing. It’s more serious.

“Should we say something?”, Nancy asks into the group. She’s too nice, she really is.

“I don’t think he speaks”, Carol notes, still in the same tone. “How much you want to bet he’s killed him?”, Tommy asks.

“Shut up”, Steve pushes him slightly. Sometimes, they’re just a bit much. Yeah, Jonathan is weird and always in clothes that don’t quite fit him and he’s also a bit embarrassing and stays uncomfortably quiet, but Steve wouldn’t take him for a murderer. Especially because he looks just a bit like he’s about to break down right then and there.

Nancy doesn’t seem to think he’s a murderer, either, because she’s walking towards him. Steve can’t quite make out what she’s saying, but it’s probably kind and comforting. She will probably be the best at finding the right words for a situation like this.

Jonathan looks at them and Steve can’t help but look to the side. For a moment, all the bad things they have ever said about him are running through his head, like a movie he can’t turn off. Where the fuck is the remote for something like that?

The bell rings, and Nancy turns around and walks back to them. While they all walk towards their classes, she allows him to lay his arm over her shoulder and says that she’ll be there for the party. In the background, he can hear the principal announcing an assembly to support the missing pup over the speakers.

He doesn’t see Nancy for the rest of the school day, mostly because Carol and Tommy talk him into skipping their last period, English. But that’s okay, because he’ll see her tonight. And hopefully, he’ll get to kiss her, too. Tommy keeps on teasing him about how they’ll finally sleep together tonight, but if he’s honest, Steve doesn’t care that much about that. If Nancy doesn’t want to, then they’ll just do something else. It doesn’t matter that much, not really, not like it did before.

As long as Nancy’s there.

Tommy and him buy some beer at that small liquor store where the owner never checks anyone’s ID, probably because he’d lose half his customers, before already turning on some music and sitting down in his backyard. Carol arrives not much later, she just has to walk down the block and for a bit, they just sit by the pool like they used to do in the summer, when it was still warm outside during this time. Steve heats them up two cans of ravioli for dinner, which turn out a bit bland, but with his parents gone more often than not, he’s kind of gotten used to it.

Nancy and Barbara ring on his door just before nine. Steve shows them to his backyard, to the heated pool, which makes the air around them a bit warmer, too. Tommy already drank a beer or two and probably thinks he’s a lot funnier than he actually is, which shows today through trying to throw Carol into the pool. “Stop it, Tommy, no, don’t!”, Carol yells loudly while Nancy and Barbara sit down on the loungers. “You’re such an asshole.” Steve has to grin at Tommy’s expression as she pushes him.

He pushes a cigarette behind his ear, before using a knife to open a can of beer on the side and swallow it down. From the corner of his eye, he can see Nancy’s laugh on his face. “Is that supposed to impress me?”, she asks.

Steve makes himself comfortable on his own lounge chair. “You’re not?” She’s at least a bit impressed, he’s sure. Even if she tries to deny it, she’s smiling at him.

“You’re a cliché, you do realize that?”

“You are a cliché, what, with your grades and your band practice”, he replies, lighting the cigarette.

“I’m so not in band”, she says. He knows she isn’t, but it’s fun to tease, anyways.

“Okay, party girl. Why don’t you just, uh, show us how it’s done, then?”, he asks, offering her a can of beer. It’s cold in his hands and he can feel the condensation.

“Okay”, Nancy replies easily and takes the can and knife from him.

“You have got to make a little hole right in- “, he starts when she takes a moment.

“I got it”, she just answers. He wishes he could see her face, she’s probably biting her lip in concentration again.

“Yeah, she’s smart, you douche!”, Tommy yells, his arm wrapped around Carol, just as Nancy gets it to open.

“Chug, chug, chug!”, Steve starts chanting and Tommy and Carol do the same. Nancy chugs, doing surprisingly well. Though chugging down a beer really isn’t that hard, if he’s quite honest. Just Barbara looks a bit annoyed, or well, more than a bit. As Nancy throws down the can, she looks to the side and rolls her eyes slightly.

“Barb, you want to try?”, Nancy asks.

“What? No. No, I don’t want to. Thanks”, Barbara replies.

“Come on”, Nancy grabs a can to give it to her friend.

“Yeah, come on”, Steve says, grinning.

“It’s fun. Just give it a- “, Nancy starts. “Nance, I don’t want to”, Barbara repeats, but takes the can from Nancy’s hand anyways. “Just give it a shot”, Nancy finishes her sentence, still smiling so beautifully.

“Okay, fine”, Barbara gets up from her seat. If she weren’t wearing that horribly unfitting jacket, she might be pretty, Steve thinks for a moment. Of course, nothing close to Nancy, but still. She just always looks a bit like she wears clothes two sizes too big in order to get buried in them.

“So, you just…”, Barbara mumbles to herself, trying to make a hole in the can, when the knife slips off and instead cuts her finger. “Ow.”

Steve can see Tommy chuckling in the background. “Gnarly”, he grins.

Nancy, though, is all big eyes and worry. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah”, Barbara starts.

“Barb, you’re bleeding- “

“I’m fine. Where’s your bathroom?”, she looks at Steve.

“Oh, it’s down past the kitchen, to the left”, he gets up from his chair to point her to the right way. When he looks after her walking into the house, she seems to be able to find it.

That’s when Carol screams behind him. He turns around, worried for a moment, but just sees Tommy blowing smoke by the pool and Nancy laughing next to him, while Carol swims in the pool. “Oh my god, what the hell, Tommy?” Tommy just grins, jumping in after her. In the background, the song changes.

Steve walks a bit closer, pushing Nancy in, too, before jumping in after her. “Whoo!”

The water is decently warm. It hasn’t finished heating but when he laughs with the others and tries to catch Nancy to throw her across the pool, he doesn’t feel particularly cold anymore. It’s fun and the music is sweet and they have a very wet and very clumsy kiss underwater, which leaves both of them gasping for air by the time they’re on the surface again.

“That was”, Nancy laughs, then coughs up a bit of water. “That was very weird.”

He can’t help but laugh, either. “You’ve got to experience everything once, even if it’s weird.”

Nancy smiles. “You’re probably right.” And she swims closer to him, until his back hits the wall of the pool and she kisses him softly with still very wet lips and her long hair strands falling right into his face, but it’s great anyways.

When she pulls away, she’s still all smiling and wide eyes. “You’re so pretty”, he can’t help but say. She chuckles, looking away.

“Get out of the water before you catch a cold, lovebirds”, Tommy says from beside him, way too loud and way too close, making Steve shriek in on himself.

“You asshole”, he complains, but does heave himself up onto the ground and helps Nancy up after. Tommy is kind of right, anyways, because the moment his wet clothes touch the cold air, they’re all shivering. Carol’s already walking towards the house in her dripping clothes, probably to get a towel.

If his parents came home anytime soon, he’d never hear the end about all the water dropping off of them scaring the floor, but he can’t bring himself to care right now. Not with Nancy here. She’s shuddering, he realizes. They all are. He grabs a few towels, with colourful stripes all over, and gives one to each of them.

“I’m freezing”, Carol mumbles, wrapping the towel around herself. Steve can see her from the corner of his eyes while he’s drying his hair.

“Hmm… well, I hear his mom’s room has a fireplace”, Tommy says, grabbing Carols hand and already making his way through the corridor.

“Are you kidding?”, Steve yells after them, but he just hears laughter and Nancy’s shivering. Fucking assholes, they are. “Okay, well, you know, you are cleaning the sheets.” He’ll never touch those again. And they’ll have to get him a bottle of scent neutralizer.

“You alright?”, Steve says to Nancy.

It looks like her teeth are chattering, but she’s smiling at him. “Yeah.”

“Yeah? Come on, let’s get you some dry clothes”, he smiles at her, too, before throwing his towel over his shoulder and walking up the stairs. She follows after him, slower, but Barbara catches her on the way.

“Nance?”, she asks and for a moment Steve waits halfway up the stairs, but then decides to give the two of them some privacy. He can get Nancy a shirt by himself, after all.” Nancy, where are you going?”, he hears Barbara ask as he disappears into his room. Its warmer up here, he had turned the heater on earlier. He’s always freezing at night anyways.

Nancy comes after him a minute later, while he’s looking through his closet to find her something that isn’t from five years ago or full of stains he can’t get out anymore. He really needs to do some laundry again. When his parents aren’t home, they have been gone since Friday evening and won’t be back till Thursday, he never remembers it. He ends up finding a grey sweater, one which he didn’t know he owned but that looks like it should fit her.

Nancy is looking through his room, at the picture of Carol and him on the snowball in his last year of middle school and the one of his mother helping him walk when he was just a small child. There are a few more, but he can’t remember them all. It’s been a long time since he looked at them. “Everything okay with the two of you?”, he asks.

She looks up, walking to the window with soft steps. “Yeah, yeah, we’re okay. Barb’s just gone home already”, she says. Soft light falls through the window. He must have left the pool lights on.

“Good. That’s good”, he says, just watching Nancy for a moment. She stares outside, before looking back at him. He offers the sweater to her and she takes it. God, she’s so pretty.

“Thanks”, she says, just holding it in her hands for a moment. He can’t help staring. “Uhm, some privacy, maybe?”

“Oh, yeah, right. Sorry”, Steve chuckles, but turns around and walks a few steps away. He got lost in the moment and now she probably thinks he’s just here for one thing. His fingers are trembling as he holds the towel tighter. He can’t remember the last time he was so nervous just because of a girl.

“Steve?” Nancy asks from behind him, voice softer. He turns around, worried for a moment, but Nancy’s just standing there. She looks at him with her beautiful doe eyes, almost a bit scared, as she lets the towel fall to the ground and slowly pulls her wet shirt over her head. She’s just standing there, looking all sweet and soft in her pastel pink bra and he doesn’t know what to say.

“Damn”, he whispers, because it seems to be the only word his brain can form.

Nancy smiles. “Shut up.”

Steve can’t help but chuckle and walk over to her. His hands fit to her waist perfectly as he leans down to kiss her. She’s still cold and trembling under his touch, but her kisses are firm, sure, safe. Her tongue finds his way into her mouth, carefully. It’s the softest kiss he’s had in a while. When he has hook ups, it’s quick and unpersonal, but he wants to give everything to Nancy. He’s glad he’s kissing her, because if he had the ability, he’d probably spill all his secrets.

That’s when he remembers. When they pull back to catch their breath for a moment, Steve lifts his hand to scratch his neck to check his scent patch. It still sits secure, not letting his omega scent bled out. Good. At least the expensive scent patches his father gets for him, because he could never spend enough money on making sure nobody notices Steve’s second gender, are good for one thing. He probably would’ve exposed his secret more than once if those weren’t waterproof. He really needs to get better at this whole secrecy thing.

Nancy blinks up to him, just as beautiful and amazing as a moment ago, and Steve kisses her again. She laughs into the kiss, softly. He takes a few steps back to sit down on the bed and she follows easily, sitting down next to him. Her hands find a way into his hair, pulling softly, while he cups her cheek and catches her lips in yet another kiss.

When Steve’s close to her like this, he can catch just the slightest bit of her scent. It’s almost unnoticeable and still slightly milky, given that she hasn’t presented yet. He can catch something flowery, but he can’t quite tell what it is.

“Wait a moment”, he whispers, pulling back so that he can get his shirt off and throw it to the side. Nancy’s cold fingers touch his naked skin, it makes him shiver just slightly, but he doesn’t pull away. He can’t imagine ever wanting to pull away from her carefully touches.

Nancy pulls him onto the mattress, lying down under him. Steve smiles, leaving soft kisses all over her face and she tries a laugh. He pulls back a bit, looking down at her, fingers running through her hair. “Hey, what’s the matter?”

“Nothing”, Nancy shakes her head, looking up to him. For a moment, they just stare into each other’s eyes, before he leans down to kiss her again. His fingers run over her torso, slipping under the hem of her bra on occasion. She runs her hands over his chest in return, a bit clumsy but still determined.

“You’re so beautiful”, Steve whispers. She smiles, reaching for his hands in between the sheets.

November 12, 1983.

Steve feels like absolute shit. How come that earlier this week he thought that his life was finally going well, that he could forget about the whole omega shit for a while, and now the girl he liked, actually liked, was cheating on him with the same guy who took photos of his house in the middle of the night. Who took photos of her in the middle of the night.

Also, his parents were even more pissed than usual, because he had thrown a party in the middle of the week and Barbara had gone missing after said party. He was pretty sure, if they hadn’t been standing in the police office, his father would’ve slapped him right across the face. Probably would’ve still done so later at home, if his mother hadn’t told him to go up to his room with that stern, kind of scary look on her face.

Now, he’s sitting by the backyard, legs dangling in the pool. The water was cold, he hadn’t turned the heater on, but he wanted it that way. If they were cold enough, maybe it’d be enough to drown out the rest that hurt.

“Steve?”, its Tommy’s voice, yelling from the front door. “Are you home?”

He doesn’t answer, because if he’s quite honest, he doesn’t want to see either Tommy or Carol. He’s not sure if he can take their teasing right now.

But like usually, Tommy can’t read his thoughts, because just a moment later he hears the other climb over the fence into the backyard and walk over to him. “Hey, man. How are you doing?”, Tommy asks, stepping closer and squatting down next to Steve.

“Nothing much”, Steve answers, honestly. “My parents are pissed.” He’d almost cried last night after he’d driven back home and climbed back inside through his window, but he’d never tell Tommy that. He’d already gotten enough comments for liking Nancy.

“Isn’t that their usual state?”

He lets out a humourless laugh. Tommy is right, and it doesn’t exactly hurt, but it still feels bad. “Probably. Can’t remember the last time I’ve seen my dad smile.”

“I don’t think he’s able to”, Tommy replies, grinning. “Are they home?”

Steve shakes his head. “Mom’s at some aerobics class and dad’s working.”

Tommy nods. “Well, I was going to get Carol, buy some lunch, maybe plan some revenge on your little princess. If you’re interested.”

The idea was horrible. Most of Tommy’s ideas were horrible, from his art projects to his drunken decisions up to so called revenge plans. Steve’s also grounded, it was already hard enough to sneak around last evening, if his parents catch him now, he’ll just end up in another screaming match and get more insults thrown at him. But he doesn’t want to stay home either. It’s boring and he doesn’t know what to do by himself except watch some idiotic TV show. And somehow, Barbara was taken from here. Right by his house, maybe out of his garden, he doesn’t know, but it feels unsafe. Steve’s strong, obviously, he has to be, but he doesn’t like it.

So, company does sound just a bit better than that. Even if it’s Tommy and Carol and revenge plans, or whatever else they would get up too. They’ve all three done more than enough dumb shit.

“Yeah, yeah. Let me just dry my legs off”, Steve says, getting out of the pool and grabbing the towel he bought outside with him.

It doesn’t take long until they’re sitting in the small diner on main street, some form of fast food in front of each of them. Steve hasn’t eaten anything today, but he’s not particularly hungry either, so he only occasionally shoves one of the way too oily fries into his mouth.

“I still can’t believe that girl is a cheater”, Tommy mumbles, his mouth is stuffed with burger.

“You really don’t need to eat with your mouth full, Tommy”, Carol complains, looking at him just a little bit disgusted. “But yeah, she looks like such a nerd. Though, I guess, those stick together. I don’t know what she sees in that creep.”

Steve just shrugs, looking down at his fries. Tommy and Carol continue their conversation, but he doesn’t really follow it, instead focusing on trying to scratch through the red fabric covering the bench they’re sitting on. He can make out the words slut and pervert and swallows. Sometimes he really wishes his two friends would just shut their mouth. He wonders, if they ever found out, would they start talking about him like that, too? Call him a fairy or a whore, like they do with Jonathan.

“Hey”, he looks up, only to see Nicole. Steve doesn’t know Nicole well and he doesn’t particularly care, either. She hangs out with Carol at times and it was kind of nice of her to tell them about Jonathan’s pictures, but in the summer, she kept on trying to go on a date with him and he’s really not interested.

“Did you get us a little gift?”, Tommy points to the spray paint in her hand, grinning brightly.

“They didn’t have red anymore, so I got orange”, Nicole slides next to Stev into the booth, stealing one of his fries. She can have them, for all he cares. They taste just as bad as the cafeteria food anyways.

“Enough for me”, Tommy grins, grabbing the can. Carol leans her head onto his shoulder.

“What’s your plan?”, Steve asks.

“Don’t you think the whole world should find out what kind of slut your little princess is?”, Carol asks in return. She blinks up to him innocently. Steve’s well aware that she isn’t. Innocent, he means. Carol has just as much of a mouth on her as Tommy has, just with less violence compressed into it. Maybe it runs in their families. Steve knows that Tommy has problems with his father, like more than enough people do, and that they’ve had more than one fight with a rather bloody end. Carol’s family is not exactly like that, they just like to throw insults at each other’s head. But really, both of their families, just like Steve’s, are kind of shit. Maybe that’s what makes all of them shit sometimes, too.

Tommy finishes the last bite of his burger. “Well, let’s get going then. Movie theatre’s not far.”

Steve swallows, but doesn’t say anything. He feels like a coward, and he probably is. He doesn’t like the idea, not particularly. Even if Nancy’s a cheater, she’s not a slut, not really. Sleeping with two people doesn’t make her a slut. All of them have slept with more. If anything, he’s the slut.

An omega whore, the voice of his father says in his head.

Steve follows his friends.

The walk to the cinema really isn’t far. They just have to go through one of the small lanes on the side. Tommy and Carol walk ahead, arms around each other and the spray paint tucked safely into Tommy’s jacket. Nicole and Steve follow after, Steve has his hands buried in his pockets.

“I heard about the girl”, Nicole says, suddenly.

Steve looks up. “What?”

She raises an eyebrow. “Barbara? Going missing after your party?”

Right. That. He remembers now. There’s so much going on and his head is so busy, he feels like he can’t think straight. It’s all Nancy, and then there’s Jonathan in between, a camera clicking in the background. There’s Tommy and his harsh scent, there’s Carol’s mean laugh and of course, there’s his father. He’s yelling and screaming and the coffee mug falls to the ground, breaking into a thousand pieces. There’s himself, standing in front of the mirror every morning, pulling of the old scent patch only to imminently press the new one on. It’s all running around in circles, and it won’t stop.

“Of course. Sorry”, he answers Nicole. “Yeah. I really hope they find her.”

“If you ever want to talk, you know”, she starts. Steve just stares down at the ground, where his feet are moving slowly. “About what happened to Barbara, or about what Nancy did, you can always call.”

It’s nice, it really is.

“Thanks”, Steve says. “I might.”

He won’t.

“Jackpot!”, Tommy exclaims. Steve looks over to him. Tommy and Carol are a few steps ahead, standing just in front of the cinema. He jogs the last few steps to join them. Then he sees what Tommy’s talking about: the employees have just added the times for the showings next week to the sign over the entrance and left the ladder standing. Good for us, he thinks, but he’s not sure if it’s really that good.

Tommy shakes the spray can. “Will you pull up the ladder, Steve?”, he asks and Steve nods wordlessly.

He places the ladder right under the right part of the sign. The black lettering says “all the right moves”. He’d wanted to see that movie with Nancy, had asked her to, just yesterday.

“Thanks, man”, Tommy says as Steve holds onto the ladder, climbing up the few steps. “Do you think this’ll count as an art project?”

He hears Nicole and Carol laugh. This is such a bad idea, but Steve can’t bring himself to say anything. If Hawkins was just slightly bigger, maybe, it wouldn’t matter. But in this Hawkins, everyone knew everyone.

Tommy climbs the steps back down. “What’d you think?”, he throws the spray can into the air, catching it easily. Carol says something encouraging, to which Tommy presses a kiss against her forehead. Nicole smiles next to them. Steve can only look at the sign.

“All the right moves”, “starring Nancy the slut Wheeler”, in bright orange lettering.

He swallows. “Isn’t that beautiful?”, Tommy punches against his shoulder, softly. “That’s what she gets, man. For screwing you over.” Maybe Tommy’s right. Maybe Nancy really does deserve that. Maybe Jonathan deserved to have his camera broken, too. Maybe they both deserved it. But that doesn’t help the bitter feeling in the back of his mouth.

“Yeah, man”, he says, though. “You’re a real artist.”

Tommy laughs, brightly. “Thanks.” He throws his arm over Carol’s shoulder again. “Let’s get back, though. Really don’t want to have anyone catch us. Maybe we can make some more art on the way.”

The way back is the same one they came from. Down the street, into the narrow lane. Past the turquoise car and the trash cans in the back, to the parking lot of the diner were his car stood. Nicole and Carol are laughing, Tommy’s talking bullshit and Steve’s trailing after them, lighting a cigarette. He doesn’t smoke often, but he feels like he needs one right now. When Tommy asks for one as well, he throws him the package.

On the wall opposite of the turquoise car is a white door, probably to the back of the cinema. The ground is full of crushed cigarette butts. Tommy walks up the few steps to the door, starting on another artwork. Steve blows smoke into the air, and Nicole takes a step back from him. Good.

“Tommy, you write like a three-year-old”, Carol laughs next to him.

“Shut up”, Tommy grumbles, but it’s obvious that he doesn’t mind his girlfriend’s teasing. “I didn’t know you could spell”, Nicole adds, smiling, too. Steve catches the dirty look Tommy throws her. He feels almost a bit bad for Nicole. She just kind of happens to be here. She probably just wants to belong with them, with someone. It’s not her fault that none of them really like her.

Steve smokes the last of his cigarette, this time blowing the smoke into the opposite direction of Nicole, before letting it fall to the ground and crushing it with his feet.

“Done”, Tommy declares next to him. When he steps back, Steve can read what he sprayed. “Byers is a perv”, the letters are actually a bit messy, Carol wasn’t lying there, like she is sometimes when she’s mean just for the sake of being mean.

The others are laughing about something, but Steve doesn’t listen, not really, because then she’s there, Nancy’s there, walking towards him with red eyes and her hands balled up to fists.

“Aw, hey there, princess”, Carol says, grin on her face.

Tommy jumps the steps back down. “Uh-oh! She looks upset.”

Steve doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t even know what to say, can’t do anything but look Nancy in the eyes when she stops right across from him. A few strands have fallen out of her ponytail and frame her face. He blinks, and she does, too. And it takes another moment, but then he feels her slapping him right across the face, and ouch, it hurts. More than he’d expected.

He hears Carol’s shocked “oh” in the background.

“What is wrong with you?”, Nancy yells at him.

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you? I was worried about you”, Steve says. It’s surprisingly calm and steady. He doesn’t know where he finds the words, because the whole morning it felt like he was unable to speak anything at all. Now, it’s like they’re flowing out of him. “I can’t believe that I was actually worried about you.” He scoffs.

“What are you talking about?”, she asks, looking him right into the eye. He just stares. She must know, right? She’s probably just lying. He saw here there, with Jonathan, his arm slung around her neck and her head resting on his shoulder.

“I wouldn’t lie, if I were you”, Carol says, smiling sweetly. Like hot sugar that can burn your skin.” You don’t want to be known as the lying slut now, do you?”

“Speak of the devil”, Tommy says, and Steve follows his view. It’s Jonathan who’s walking towards them, in a dark jacket and with messy hair hanging over his face. “Hi”, Tommy greets him.

“You came by last night?”, Nancy calls Steve’s attention back to her. She looks him into the eyes, anger still written all over her face.

“Ding, ding, ding! Does she get a prize?”, Carol answers. Tommy laughs at her teasing, before he lights another cigarette and lays his arm around Carol.

Nancy turns away from Carol. “Look, I don’t know what you think you saw, but it wasn’t like that”, she says.

Steve can’t help but chuckle at that. “What, you just let him into your room to… study?”, he asks.

“Or for another pervy photo session”, Tommy laughs beside him.

“We were just- “, Nancy starts.

“You were just what? Finish that sentence”, Steve steps closer. Nancy doesn’t say anything. Instead, she blinks the tears in the corner of her eyes away. Weak, his mind supplies. He pushes it away. “Finish the sentence.”

She doesn’t answer, still. She just breathes, heavily, and closes her eyes for a second or two. Steve wants to cry, but he can’t. Not here, not with them, not ever, really. Nancy’s quiet, still. That’s enough of an answer, he knows, but it hurts. Even more than yesterday.

“Go to hell, Nancy”, he says, turning to walk away.

“Come on, Nancy, let’s just leave”, he hears Jonathan’s quiet voice from behind him. His scents subtle, but Steve can make it out in the crisp, cold air around them. It reminds him off the morning newspaper and fresh coffee, pancakes sizzling in the pan and laughter at the kitchen table. Undeniably omega. It’s the first time he’s smelt Jonathan Byers.

He’s not quite sure what makes him turn around and say something. Maybe it’s the anger, bubbling under the surface, maybe it’s the tears that are about to roll down his cheek. Maybe it’s the scent, or maybe it’s just him being an asshole. Maybe he’s just a horrible person who likes to hurt others and start fights.

And so, he turns back around. “You know what, Byers? I’m actually kind of impressed. I always took you for a queer, but you’re just a little screw-up like your father.” The words hurt, it’s obvious. Jonathan’s scent turns bitter and he stops walking until Nancy motions him to follow her. But that’s what they’re supposed to do, they’re supposed to hurt.

But that’s not enough. Steve pushes Jonathan against the shoulder, not with much force but very much enough for him to feel it and stumble slightly. “Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah. Yeah, that house is full of screw-ups. You know, I guess I shouldn’t really be surprised, just a bunch of screw-ups in your family.” Just like you, his father says in his head. It only fuels his anger.

“Jonathan, leave it”, Nancy says.

Jonathan doesn’t listen.

“I mean, your mom. I’m not even surprised what happened to your brother. I’m sorry I have to be the one to tell you -”, Steve starts. He, too, ignores Nancy telling him to stop. Instead, he pushes Jonathan again and again, more force behind it every time “- the Byers, their family, it’s a disgrace to the entire- “

That seems to be it, the weak spot, because Jonathan turns around it and punches him right across the face. He stumbles, only holding himself up against the cold stone wall. Jonathan’s fist hurts a hundred times more than Nancy’s earlier slap. The metallic taste of blood fills his mouth. The pain doesn’t stop. For a moment, it’s all he can think about, how much his face hurts. Suddenly, his mind is quiet.

It’s good.

He doesn’t want it to stop.

Steve looks up, breathing heavily. Jonathan’s still standing, looking at him like he’s the worst thing he’s ever laid eyes on. Before he can think, Steve runs against Jonathan. He pushes him right on top of the turquoise car standing in the lane. Someone’s shouting in the background, Jonathan’s hands find his waist to try and push him off. It hurts, but not enough. He throws Jonathan onto the floor, landing on top of him after a stumble.

He can’t make out everyone’s words, it’s only parts that find their way to his ears. Nancy yells, “Stop! Steve! Knock it off, you guys!”, while Jonathan rolls them around. The gravel of the ground scratches across Steve’s face. While he kicks up at Jonathan, Tommy screams: “Kick his ass, man!” When Jonathan kicks back, he hears Carol’s “Get off! Stop!”.

His mind feels like it’s running a few seconds slower than his body, because somehow, they end up standing again. Jonathan punches Steve, and it hurts, so, so good.

Tommy walks in between them, grabbing Jonathan’s jacket and telling them both to stop it. He must’ve taken his scent patch off, he was wearing it this morning, Steve remembers. Now there’s angry alpha all around them. He doesn’t like it, but is unsure if it’s because of the liquorice or because there’s an alpha who’s angry at him, which he shouldn’t be. But he knows that he’s thinking again, and he doesn’t want that.

Of course, he also wants to win. Losings against an omega is embarrassing, so he needs to win. He’s stronger than Jonathan, he’s strong, he’s not weak-

“Hey, get out of there, get out”, Steve says, words a bit slurred, but Tommy actually steps back after throwing him a look.

Jonathan doesn’t wait. The punch hits Steve imminently, but he in turn gets the next hit in. Jonathan is quick, though, and stronger than he looks. He gets Steve again, and again, and then Steve’s on the ground once more. His face hurts horribly, and through teary eyes he can see Jonathans contours above him. He’s angry, still, almost overtaken by it. He doesn’t stop throwing punches, left and right, and again, even when sirens start wailing in the background. Steve doesn’t move. He just lays there, taking it.

Maybe he deserves it.

In the background, somewhere far away, he can hear the others yelling. Tommy warning them about the cops, Nancy yelling at Jonathan, but it does nothing. Carol and Nicole get sent away by Tommy.

“He’s had enough man”, Tommy screams at Jonathan. Alpha, Steve’s useless mind supplies, angry. It’s like Jonathans punches broke it, too. “I said he’s had enough!”

Tommy pulls Jonathan away from him, and Jonathan finally lets go. The cops who have arrived are yelling, and Tommy pulls Steve up by his arm. “Go, go, go”, his voice is loud, too loud, ringing in Steve’s ears. He follows Tommy mindlessly, around the corner.

One of the cops runs after them, yelling loudly: “Hey, uh-uh. Come here, little guys! Come here!”

He follows Tommy, lets himself get pulled away by him. Tommy’s quick, he’s always been quick, on the basketball court or when he’s running from the cops after a party. Steve’s mostly stumbling, but they reach his car somehow and Tommy shoves him onto the driver’s seat. He just starts the engine without a second thought and just drives. Nicole’s standing by her own car, she doesn’t follow them.

Teary eyes aren’t good for driving. Steve’s usually a rather safe driver, but today he almost hits three different cars. It’s Carol who finally helps his mind come back to the real world, through picking out one of the cassettes he keeps in the car. The slow piano helps his racing mind calm down.

They drive through town two times because neither of them really knows what to do now, until Carol tells him to stop on the parking lot in front of the small supermarket. Carol and Tommy walk inside while Steve sits down on the trunk of his car, head in his hands.

Everything hurt, it still hurts.

Steve breathes, silently. The birds are tweeting in the trees around him. Wind runs through his hair. Blood drips down from his face onto his jeans.

He can’t even be sure why he did it. Jonathan had won, rather easily so. Why Steve hadn’t even tried to put up a fight anymore, though, he isn’t sure.

Tommy and Carol come out of the supermarket and stand next to him. “Hey”, Tommy says, throwing him a bottle of aspirin pills. Steve catches it and reaches for the coke. “You owe me a dollar twenty.”

Steve doesn’t answer. The words, there had been so many earlier, are lost again. Instead, he swallows a couple of pills, probably too many.

Tommy looks him up and down. “Don’t worry, he’ll need more than aspirin when we’re done with him.” It’s an attempt to reassure him, Steve’s well aware, but it doesn’t feel very reassuring. It feels like Tommy plans to corner Jonathan and beat him up. He doesn’t want that, because this isn’t really Jonathan’s fault. He had tried to provoke him, he had tried to hurt him and it had worked.

“Yeah, if the creep ever gets out. The cops should just lock him up forever”, Carol mumbles. 

Steve holds the can against his face. It’s cold and feels good against the wounds.

“Did you see the look on his face?”, Carol keeps on speaking, hitting Tommy playfully in a weak impression of Jonathan.

Tommy laughs. “He probably had the same look whenever he killed his brother, right?”

Steve doesn’t want to listen to them anymore. For some reason, he can’t even believe that Jonathan would hurt his family on accident. He knows why he thinks that, which is reassuring, because at least he knows something. It’s because Jonathan’s scent, before he had left permanent damage on Steve’s face, had smelled like everything Steve had ever wanted in a morning. Family and softness and laughter and coffee and oh god, he wants to cry again.

He didn’t even know an omega scent could be like that. He barely knows what his own smells like, since he has his scent patches on every time of day. His father had told him so. “Change it once a day, but keep it on, otherwise. I can’t have anyone coming over and getting a whiff of that.” His face had been as unemotional and harsh as any other day.

Carol chuckles. Steve can see her looking up at Tommy and pulls the coke away from his face. “Oh god”, she says. “I just got an image of him making that face while he and Nancy are screwing.” She grins and Steve can’t take it anymore.

“Carol, for once in your life, shut your damn mouth!”

Carol looks at him with wide eyes. “What?”

“Hey, what’s your problem, man?”, Tommy asks.

Steve gets off the car, still breathing heavily, but he can’t backtrack on this now. He doesn’t even want to. “You’re both assholes, that’s my problem.”

“Are you serious right now, man?”, Tommy looks at him like he’s crazy.

“Yeah, I’m serious”, Steve says, walking to the front door. The key’s still in the keyhole. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“Done what?”

“You know what.” It’s everything, really. Spraying those words on the cinema, spraying it against the door, joking about Jonathan being a murderer. Treating Nancy and everyone else like they’re worth less than them, Calling everyone who doesn’t fit into their world view a queer or a whore. There’s more, probably, if Steve thinks about it too much.

“You mean call her out for what she really is?”, Tommy asks. “Oh, that’s funny, because I don’t remember you asking me to stop.”

Tommy looks him directly in the eyes and even though Tommy’s a little shorter than him, Steve suddenly feels small under his stare. But he can’t let them notice that. He can’t let anybody notice that, just like he can’t let anybody notice that he’d basically let Jonathan punch him into submission earlier.

 “I should’ve put that spray paint right down your throat”, Steve says. He probably really should’ve.

“What the hell, Steve?”, Carol exclaims. She’s staring at him, too, both hands still stuck in the pockets of her jacket.

“You know, neither of you ever cared about her”, he starts, because it’s the truth. “You never even liked her, because she’s not miserable like you two. She actually cares about other people.” He leaves out the fact that he’s miserable, too.

“The slut with the heart of gold, then.” This time, she doesn’t smile at him, like she usually does when she tries to annoy him. This time, it’s serious. It works like always, though.

“I told you to watch your mouth!”

Tommy pushes Steve against his car. He swallows. “Hey! I don’t know what’s gotten into you, man, but you don’t talk to her that way.”

“Get out of my face.” Steve pushes Tommy away. He can’t stand the alpha so close to him, not while his mind is still racing.

Tommy isn’t that easy to get off, though. He grabs Steve’s collar and throws him against the car. There’s more strength behind it than when Jonathan had pinned him to the ground, but it doesn’t hurt. Tommy’s just showing off, trying to scare him.

“Or what?”, Tommy whispers. His breath is warm against Steve’s hurt nose. “Or what? You’re going to fight me now, too? Huh? You going to fight me now, too?”

It’s working. Steve is scared.

Tommy is stronger than him and he knows that, and he smells angry and mean and Steve is so, so scared. Tommy is all anger and fletched teeth and he wants to turn around, get into his car, and drive far, far away. Because he’s scared that if he doesn’t, he’ll let out a small whimper and not hold Tommy’s gaze anymore and instead drop to the ground.

Tommy grins down at him, as if he can sense Steve’s fear. “Because you couldn’t take Jonathan Byers… so I wouldn’t recommend that.” The words “an omega” go unsaid.

Tommy lets him go, and Steve immediately opens the door of his car. The seat is still warm as he sits down.

“Here let me get the door for you, buddy!” Tommy slams the car door behind him. With the closed window, Tommy’s scent is weaker and his voice subdued. That’s good. It makes Steve gain a bit of strength as he turns on the engine.

“That’s right! Run away, Stevie boy!”, Tommy yells and continues yelling as Steve drives off the parking lot. “Run away, just like you always do. That Nancy’s turning you into a little pussy!”

Steve drives.

He doesn’t know where he’s going, not really. He can’t go home, because his parents will be there and his face is ruined, he can’t take his father’s anger right now. He can’t take any anger right now. But he can’t go back either, because he just lost his two best friends and he doesn’t want them back.

His head is still swimming, caught somewhere between Tommy’s anger and his strong arms pulling Steve’s collar and Jonathan’s scent and his fist against Steve’s cheek.

Ever since Steve had presented, he hadn’t felt much different. Except for the occasional longer look into the mirror while he touches the patch over his scent glands or for those times when he’s lying in bed after a long day, hand wrapped around his dick and breathing heavily, and then his hand wanders lower, lower, until it touches the soft folds of his pussy. Apart from that, nothing much has changed and he tries to not dwell on those different moments too much. But today, today he has felt different.

Steve swallows, turning the radio louder. The cassette is still playing, and if he tries to hum along he can distract himself a little bit. Nothing’s wrong, everything’s okay. It had to be.

Because if something was wrong, that meant that Steve had almost submitted twice today. And that couldn’t be, that shouldn’t be. He wasn’t a real omega, after all, he just happened to be one. So, he didn’t want or need or could even do all that idiotic and weird submission stuff. He wasn’t weak like that.

And so, he pretended that everything was fine, like he always did, and that he wouldn’t like to curl up in his bed and cry until wet spots were visible on the blanket.

Instead, Steve parks his car in front of the small diner for the second time that day. Even if everything about him was okay, he had still been an asshole, he could acknowledge that. So, he had to make it right.

Walking to the cinema alone is weird and unusual. He’d never gone there alone. It had always been a date or a hang out with friends. The weird feeling is worsened by the fact that he had just gotten beat up here, barely an hour ago. When he walks down the lane, he’s sure that he can still see some blood splatters on the ground.

The ladder in front of the cinema is still standing. An old man in the cinema’s uniform is standing on the ladder, trying to wipe away the spray paint with a wet towel. A younger guy is holding the ladder for him.

Steve steps closer, a bit unsure. The old man seems to see him and sets down the towel. He raises an eyebrow, and Steve takes a deep breath. “Need a hand?”

“Did you have something to do with this?”, the man asks, like he already knows this is Steve’s fault.

“I just… I want to help.”

The employee slowly gets off the ladder. “All yours”, he says and offers Steve the wet towel. It’s cold in his hands. The younger man keeps on holding the ladder as Steve climbs up to reach the sign. He leaves his jacket on the lower steps, the cold air is nice on his skin, even if it makes him shiver.

Steve leans forward and starts wiping to get that disgusting saying off of there.

It takes him roughly an hour to scrub off both of Tommy’s “artworks”. Afterwards, he brings the towel back to the cinema. The old man from earlier, who’s now standing behind the counter, smiles at him just slightly and it makes him feel a little bit better. Everything’s much more enjoyable when people like you.

Back in his car, Steve opens the coke that Tommy had bought him earlier. It’s not cold anymore, but he hasn’t really drunken or eaten anything today, so it helps his throbbing head at least a little bit. He swallows another aspirin as well.

If he had already felt like shit this morning, this is even worse.

Too much had happened. They’d written stupid things about Nancy on the cinema, he’d gotten beat up by Jonathan Byers, he’d lost both of his longest and kind of best friends, he’d come back to the cinema to wipe those stupid things off and now he had to go apologize to Jonathan. He didn’t have to, not really, but he wanted too. He had said idiotic stuff he didn’t believe in just to hurt and rile him up, and Jonathan deserved an apology for that.

Would Jonathan even accept it? It wasn’t like he had just started saying stuff today. Jonathan had always been a part of the gossip and the list of people they looked at with a mean grin on while they walked down the hall. That had not been just to hurt Jonathan, that’d been because Steve had looked down on him, actually. And oh, he’d broken Jonathan’s camera as well.

There was a lot of stuff to apologize for. He just hoped he wouldn’t get beat up again. He didn’t think his face could take anymore, the wounds were still throbbing.

It was getting dark outside by the time Steve finally got the courage to drive to the Byer’s house. It laid on the outskirts of Hawkins and looked a bit run down. It was a stark difference to Steve’s own home, he couldn’t help but think as he parked in the makeshift driveway. Most houses were different to Steve’s home, though. He didn’t know anyone else his age who had a heated pool in the garden, after all.

Steve couldn’t help but remember Jonathan’s scent, though. He didn’t think his home would ever feel like that.

It’s quiet when Steve gets out of the car. Despite the forest starting just behind the Byer’s house, there are no birds chirping or wind rustling through leaves. It feels just a little bit eery.

He walks up the step to the front door, looking around once again. It looks like someone hit a hole into the wall on his right and patched it up with a few loose wooden panels. Steve shakes his head. He’s not supposed to judge, not right now. The Byers had just lost one of their children, who knew what had happened here.

There’s no doorbell, and so Steve takes a deep breath and knocks on the door. Quiet, at first, and when he doesn’t get an answer, louder. “Jonathan! Are you there, man?”

There’s no answer, still. He bangs against the door louder. Maybe he’s not home, maybe he’s still at the police station, or looking for his brother in the forest, or maybe he just doesn’t want to see Steve. Maybe he thinks Steve wants revenge for getting beat up. “It’s… It’s Steve! Listen, I just want to talk.”

He’s about to bang on the door again when he hears the lock turn on the inside. The door opens, just slightly, the chain lock still in place. It’s not Jonathan opening the door, though.

“Steve, listen to me”, is the first thing Nancy says. He blinks at her, confused for a moment.

“Hey, Nancy, what-”, he starts, but she’s quicker. What is she even doing here?

“You need to leave.”

He can’t leave, he has to finish this, finish apologizing and being an asshole and everything else included in that. “No, I’m not here to start anything, okay?”, he starts, but Nancy interrupts him once again.

“I don’t care about that, you need to leave, now.” There’s a sense of urgency in her voice, even worse than when she was worried about Barbara.

This seems to finish the conversation for her, because Nancy tries to close the door on him without another word. Steve shoves his hand in between to hold it open. He really hopes that won’t get hurt as well.

“No, no, no”, he starts, stammering a bit. “No, listen, I messed up, okay? I messed… I messed up. Really. Please. I just want to make things right. Okay? Please. Please…” His gaze falls on Nancy’s hand. She seems to have gotten hurt, dark red blood stains on the white bandages. “Hey, what happened to your hand? Is that blood?”

Nancy immediately pulls her hand away, out of his sight. “Nothing. It was an accident.”

An accident? “Yeah, what’s going on?”

“Nothing”, Nancy repeats, trying to close the door on him again.

Nothing is bullshit. It’s like when Carol asks Tommy where he got that blue eye from and he says “nothing”, even though they all know it was his father. Or when Steve’s mother asks if anything happened when he comes home late and he says “nothing”, because he just doesn’t want to tell her.

“Wait a second, did he do this to you?”, Steve asks, pushing against the door, still. Through the small opening, he can undo the chain.

Unlike Jonathan, Nancy doesn’t have much strength and so it’s easy enough to open the door like this. “No, no, no, Steve!”, Nancy yells at him, but he just pushes past her into the house.

It’s a mess, and that’s saying it lightly. There’s stuff laying around everywhere, Christmas lights hanging all over the place and is that the alphabet written on the wall in bold, black letters? There’s a baseball bat laying on the table, like the one Nancy had been swinging around just yesterday, now with nails rammed through the wood, which turned it into quite a scary weapon. The whole place also smells nothing like Jonathan did earlier, because something overshadows it all. Is that gasoline?

Jonathan himself is standing in the middle of what looks remotely like a living room, in the same clothes he worn in the morning, though not half as battered up as Steve is. His hand, though, is wrapped up in the same white bandages as Nancy’s is.

“What is… What the…?”, Steve stammers.

“You need to get out of here”, Jonathan walks towards him, grabbing him by the collar, just like Tommy did mere hours earlier, and like Jonathan already did before that, and Steve doesn’t get what’s going on here.

“Whoa, what is all- “, he can’t finish his sentence, because Jonathan’s grip gets tighter.

“Listen to me. I’m not asking you, get out of here!”, he repeats.

Steve doesn’t budge. “What is that smell? Is that gasoline?”

“Steve, get out!”, Nancy repeats, and Steve looks at her again. She’s pointing a gun at him, and holy shit, why does Nancy have a gun and why is she pointing it at him?

“Wait. What? What is going on?” Steve can’t think. He doesn’t understand this. Did he get a concussion and is hallucinating? Because this feels crazy, absolutely crazy. There is no other way to describe it.

“You have five seconds to get out of here!”, Nancy says, still holding the gun, fingers over the trigger.

“Okay, is this a joke? Stop. Put the gun down.”

Nancy doesn’t put the gun down, of course. “I’m doing this for you.” Over her head, the Christmas lights start blinking. She doesn’t seem to notice though, still watching him, gun held high.

“Nancy”, Jonathan says beside him.

“Wait. Is this a… what is this?”, Steve says, hand running through his hair. Nancy doesn’t let go off the gun. It’s almost as bad as Tommy pinning him against the car earlier, but different, because he’s standing in the middle of the room and no one is grabbing him and the lights are blinking like crazy and he’s once again scared.

“Nancy”, Jonathan repeats.

Nancy doesn’t even seem to hear him. She’s looking at Steve and starts counting. “Three. Two.”

Never before had Steve thought he’d be so damn scared of Nancy Wheeler. “No, no, no! No, no”, the words leave his mouth frantically.

“Nancy!”, Jonathan yells and finally, Nancy shifts her attention to him. “The lights. It’s here.” She looks up, watching the lights flickering in different colours.

“Wait, what’s here?”, Steve asks, watching the two of them as they panic. Jonathan grabs the nail bat Steve had noticed on the table earlier. “Easy with that”, he mumbles.

Nancy and Jonathan are standing back-to-back in the middle of the room, looking around frantically. “Where is it?”, Nancy asks, watching around as if she expects someone, something, to just appear in any corner of the room.

“I don’t know. I don’t see it”, Jonathan answers, looking just as worried and scared as Nancy is.

“Where is what?”, Steve yells, but nobody answers. “Hello? Will someone please explain to me what the hell is going- “

That’s when the ceiling starts breaking, big pieces of wood just falling onto the carpeted floor. Steve can only watch, but luckily Nancy is quicker than him, pointing her gun straight at whatever is trying to break into the house there. He doesn’t know what it is, can only make out something that looks a bit like fingers and claws covered in some of disgusting goo.

The creature roars as Nancy shoots at it, but doesn’t die or go back where it came from.

“No! Go!”, Jonathan grabs Nancy’s arm and pulls her after him, running away from the creature. “Go! Run! Go!”

Steve wants to go, wants to run and drive home but home’s not safe either, because Barbara was taken there and that thing comes from nowhere, straight through the fucking ceiling and his feet won’t fucking move. Why can’t he move? Why can he only watch as some sort of thing, monster falls through the ceiling and roars once more?

“Get out of here!”, Jonathan runs past him, Nancy’s right next to him, and he grabs Steve’s hand and pulls him with him down the hall. The monster screams again, loud and scary and disgusting. Steve’s shaking and shivering and he wants it to stop.

“Jump!”, Jonathan yells at him, jumping over something on the ground that looks like some sort of- is that a fucking bear trap?

“Oh, my god! Oh, my god! Oh, my god!”, are all the words he’s able to say.

Jonathan pulls them all into what looks like a child’s room, which is not quite as demolished as the living room, but still a lot more run down than anything Steve’s used to. Jonathan slams the door closed behind him and Steve holds onto the bed post, breathing heavily.

“Jesus! What the hell was that?”, he asks.

“Shut up!”, both Nancy and Jonathan yell, and he does, because they obviously seem to be the ones that know at least a little bit more about whatever the fuck is going on here.

The monster, an actual real-life monster, screeches again from outside the door. Nancy and Jonathan are standing in front of him facing the door, seemingly ready to fight. Nancy is holding the gun again and Jonathan has a lighter in his hand. The lights all around them are blinking.

“What’s it doing?”, Nancy asks, looking at Jonathan.

“I don’t know”, he says.

They’re both staring at a yellow yoyo with a bright smiley face on it, which is placed over a chair. It doesn’t move, though. The continuous smile is kind of eery. Then, the cold wind around them and thrills the monster had let out stop. Next to Steve, the light stops blinking.

 “Do you hear anything?”, Nancy asks.

Jonathan flicks the lighter off. “No.”

He opens the door, slowly, carefully, just a bit at first and when nothing comes in and they can’t hear any sound, he pushes it open further. Still nothing. It’s quiet again, like when Steve had first arrived.

Jonathan is the first to leave the room, once again with the bat in his hand. Nancy looks at Steve for a moment before following Jonathan into the hallway, her finger still hovering over the trigger. Steve doesn’t want to go out, not really, but he doesn’t want to stay back either, especially not alone. So, he follows them, into the hallway, where bear trap is still sitting just like it did a moment before. Untriggered.

They slowly continue walking through the house. Nothing.

When they’re standing back in the living room, looking around once again, Steve can’t hold back anymore. “This is crazy, this is crazy…”, he mutters to himself. “This is crazy.” What the fuck was that? There was a thing, a monster, in here and both Jonathan and Nancy looked like they knew, like they expected it. An actual monster.

When he sees the phone next to entrance, Steve stumbles over there quickly. He’s trying to dial 911 when Nancy pulls the phone out of his hand and just throws it across the room. Steve can only watch with big eyes. “What are you do- What are you doing? Are you insane?” Maybe she is. Maybe he is. Oh god.

“It’s going to come back!”, Nancy says, stepping closer and looking him right in the eyes. “So, you need to leave. Right now.”

Steve listens to her. He can’t tell exactly why, maybe it’s because she’s so serious or because of that monster trying to actually kill him but either way, he’s scared and he listens to her because he runs away. He runs out of the house to his car, slamming the door closed behind him. The key is in his pocket and he pushes them into the lock but they won’t go in and his hands are still shaking and he still can’t quite wrap his mind about what happened.

A monster. A monster falling through the ceiling. Nancy and Jonathan trying to fight the monster. A monster. There’s an actual monster in Hawkins.

Finally, his car door opens and Steve’s scrambling to get in the car. But when he’s about to get in, his view falls back on the Byers house. Through the window, he can see the lights blinking again.

Then everything’s black.

The monster roars again, and it makes a shiver run down Steve’s spine.

Nancy’s screaming, he can’t quite understand it but it sounds a bit like “Jonathan”. Steve breathes in deeply, then runs back towards the house. Even though he’s scared, scared shitless, he can’t leave them alone with that thing. They can’t die or get hurt or anything else, he can’t let that happen. Though he’s not quite sure how much he could do against that thing, but he has to try.

After all, he still hasn’t apologized.

When he’s at the door, he hears the gunshots. He scrambles to open the door. The view that awaits him makes shivers run down his spine once more. The monsters standing in the middle of the room, with Jonathan still lying halfway on the ground and Nancy in front of him, shooting at it. It doesn’t seem even remotely affected by the bullets, the way it just stays and continues to roar.

That’s when the gun just clicks. Nancy keeps on pressing the trigger, looking at the monster, eyes full of fear.

Steve reacts quicker than he’d ever thought he would. He grabs the bat from the ground, the one that Jonathan had earlier, and throws himself between the monster and Nancy. The bat lands in the creature and it screams at him as he hits it once more, and again, and again, as it gets even closer to him. The lights around him keep blinking.

That’s when it screeches.

„He’s in the trap! “, Jonathan yells. “He’s stuck!” Steve looks down at the floor, and really, it’s stuck in the bear trap.

“Jonathan, now!”, Nancy screams frantically, hand grabbing onto Steve’s arm as she pulls him the last few steps out of the hallway.

Jonathan throws his lighter onto the ground. The carpet immediately lights on fire and so does the monster. It screeches in pain, louder than before. Through the flames, Steve can see its shadows. It’s so tall, and it has that weird flower-like face full of teeth that could rip him or anyone else to shreds.

“Get back!”, Jonathan yells, turning on a fire extinguisher and pointing it towards the flames.

The smoke around him makes Steve cough, arm covering his eyes. When he opens them again, the lights are out. It takes a few seconds, one, two, three, four, before they turn on again and he can see Nancy and Jonathan again. They’re both panting and coughing, just like him, but appear to be fine apart from that. They’re both still standing and there’s no blood anywhere. Good. That’s good.

Steve looks back at the floor, following them closer to the bear trap.

“Where’d it go?”, Nancy asks.

“No”, Jonathan whispers, inspecting the trap. “It has to be dead. It has to be.” Steve’s not sure if anything could kill that thing. Maybe its immortal.

Something in the bear trap is burning and sizzling. It’s flesh, actual flesh, looking a bit like the monster’s foot that got stuck in it. The rest of its body is gone, though.

Above them, the Christmas lights start lighting up, but not in the way they did when the monster was here. It’s slow and steady, one after the other, and they’re not flickering. Still, Steve holds the bat in front of him, ready for yet another fight. He wants it to be over, wants it to stop, but he had decided to go back and he’ll finish it.

They follow the lights back into the living room. Jonathan walks past him, watching as the lamp in the corner turns on. He whispers something that sounds like “Mom”, but Steve’s not sure if he heard him correctly. He still doesn’t get it all.

The lights turn off again, and Jonathan scrambles past him once more to get out of the front door. From the porch, they can see the lantern on front of the house flickering.

“Where’s it going?”, Nancy asks.

“I don’t think that’s the monster”, Jonathan answers.

“Well, what the fuck is it then?”, Steve asks him. He’s a bit calmer now, his heart isn’t beating so loud that he can hear it in his head, not anymore. But it’s still weird and fucking crazy and he wants to know what’s actually going on here.

Jonathan sighs, sitting down on the step up to the porch. He runs his hand through his hair, looking down on the ground. Nancy sits down next to him, placing her hand on his knee. “I’m sure they’ll find him”, she says. “And then it’ll all get better.”

“Who is finding who?”, Steve asks.

Nancy looks up to him. “It’s a lot.”

“Yeah, no shit, Nancy. We just fought a fucking monster which came through the ceiling and disappeared into nowhere!”, he walks around to stand in front of them, arms crossed in front of his chest. “Don’t you think I deserve to know what’s going on here?”

“He’s right, Nancy”, Jonathan whispers. “He fought that thing with us. He should know.”

“Thank you”, Steve says. “Well?”

Nancy sighs, patting the area next to him. “Sit down and I’ll tell you.”

So, Steve does, and she starts talking. He doesn’t quite get it all, because there’s a lot about some game called dungeons and dragons and Christmas lights and some girl with superpowers who apparently ran from Hawkins lab, but he gets the gist of it. There’s a different Hawkins which is scary and wrong and cold that’s called the upside down, and the monster’s from there. Said monster is the thing that stole Barbara and Jonathan’s younger brother Will. Barbara is also dead, was killed by the monster, but Will’s still alive so Jonathan’s mother and the towns chief have decided to go into the upside down to go and rescue Will.

They all spend a little more time on the front porch. Steve knows he could leave, because he’s not even sure what he’s still doing here, but he doesn’t want to go home. He doesn’t want to be alone. That thing, that monster, had been at his house. It had stolen Barbara away from there, and what if it came back? They had damaged it, surely, but it still seemed to be out there. 

Steve’s not sure how long they sit there, but he is startled out of almost falling asleep against one of the beams of the Byers house by the ringing telephone. Jonathan’s already standing and runs back inside to pick up. Steve and Nancy watch him from outside as he wipes his eyes and wait anxiously for him to tell them what’s going on.

Jonathan’s eyes are still teary when he looks at them after hanging up. “He’s alive”, he says. “Will’s alive.”

Nancy is engulfing him in a tight hug only moment later. Steve steps closer, too, but stays a few feet away. They’re not friends, not even anything close to that. He’s not quite sure what to do, but then Nancy grabs his arm and pulls him closer. He stumbles and ends up almost falling into the two of them. Jonathan wraps his arm around Steve, too and Steve can’t help but smile, even though Jonathan is sobbing into his shoulder.

Then he catches it again. The scent, soft and subtle. Steve can see that Jonathan’s wearing a scent patch on his neck, just like he is, though it’s not sticking very well. It’s probably a lesser quality brand than the ones his father gets for him, which haven’t failed him yet.

Jonathan’s scent is still fearful and anxious, but it’s so, so lovely, Steve doesn’t think he’s ever smelt anything like it. It’s homey, except that Steve’s never had a home, but it’s what he would want a home to feel like. That’s weird, though, so he doesn’t say it and instead just enjoys the hug.

When Jonathan’s sobs turn into sniffles, he pulls away and a moment later Nancy does, too. “They’re bringing Will to the hospital”, Jonathan says, wiping the tear tracks from his face.

“I can drive, if you need a ride”, Steve offers. Then he remembers that Jonathan does have his own car. He’s so used to driving his friends, well, not his friends anymore, everywhere that he completely forgot about that.

“Thanks”, Jonathan says, though. “Not sure if I’m a very safe driver like this.” Steve nods, silently relieved, and they all follow him to his car. The cassette Carol put in earlier is still playing, so at least the ride isn’t uncomfortably silent.

It doesn’t take too long to the hospital.

Inside, Jonathan immediately disappears to look for his mother and brother. Nancy goes to hug her brother, who is apparently friends with Will. The pup, Mike, stares at him judgingly and Steve can’t help but remember the time Mike had caught him sneaking through Nancy’s window. Two other pups are there as well, and Nancy’s mother and father, and Hawkins chief of police Jim Hopper.

That’s how Steve ends up sitting on one of the uncomfortable waiting room chairs, next to Nancy’s loudly snoring father.

It’s weird. Everything’s weird. The whole day was weird. This really wasn’t what he’d expected when he’d woken up this morning.

It’s not bad, though. He doesn’t feel as shit as he did this morning, despite the wounds on his face and the fact that he basically didn’t have friends anymore and monsters existed and he’d fought one of them.

Sometime later, the clocks on the wall behind them so he’s not quite sure how late it is, Jonathan opens the door to the waiting room. He looks happy, for once he’s actually smiling. He gestures to Mike, the only of the children who’s still awake.

Mike’s face lights up and he basically jumps out of his chair to rush over to his friends. “Guys, guys, he’s up”, the other two take a moment longer to wake up, but when Mike repeats himself over and over again, they get the message as well. “Will is up. Guys, Will’s up.”

They run out of the room on the way to their friend, and Steve doesn’t think Tommy and Carol would’ve ever looked that happy to see him, even if he’d had been missing for a week. Jonathan follows them, most likely to actually show them where they need to go, and after a look to her mother, Nancy trails after them, too.

Steve waits a few minutes before he gets up, too. Now he can see that it’s just half an hour until midnight, he really should get home. He’ll get into big enough trouble with his parents as it is. Will is safe and alive and Jonathan is well and now everything should be fine, right? Even though nothing really felt safe.

“Steve, wait”, Nancy calls out for him as he walks down the hall, and he turns around. “Where are you going?”

“Home”, he answers. Should he have asked if she needed a ride? But her parents were here and she was probably still mad at him.

“Right”, Nancy wipes the hair strands that had fallen out of her ponytail behind her ears. “I just wanted to tell you that the demogorgon is dead. Eleven, I mean the girl who can do telekinesis, killed it. So, you don’t need to worry about that.”

That’s reassuring, even if it doesn’t feel that way right now. “Good”, Steve nods slowly. “That’s good. Uhm, also, I wanted to apologize to you, too.”

She looks at him, her head tilted slightly.

“About what we wrote on the cinema. It was idiotic and horrible and an asshole move and I’m sorry. I should’ve talked to you before assuming anything and spreading rumours because of it. You’re not a slut, I mean, you’re great, and you’re… you’re you.” She smiles. “I cleaned it all already. And if anyone’s an asshole to you because of that writing, you can tell me and I’ll handle it somehow. I mean, maybe not beat them up or anything like that because it seems I’m not very good at that, but I’d try. For you, I mean.”

“Okay”, Nancy says. In the background, he can hear the clock ticking. “It’s okay.”

“Really?”, he asks.

“It hurt, obviously. But you helped us earlier, and you… you’re not a bad person, I think”, Nancy answers. “I think I’ll need a bit, I think we all will, because of everything else that’s going on, but I still like you, Steve.”

He smiles, too. “So, I can pick you up on Monday for school? Like, as friends. I just, I don’t know what I’m saying, after today, with the monster and all, I think company would be nice-”

“Yeah, you can”, she interrupts him. “You’ll apologize to Jonathan, too, right?”

“Of course, yeah, sure. I was planning to do that anyways. That’s why I came by in the first place. I just think now is not the right time, with his brother back and everything. I don’t want to bother him.”

“Makes sense”, Nancy mumbles. “So, I’ll see you Monday.”

“Yeah, see you”, Steve says. They hug loosely before Steve walks out of the hospital. The night is cold and quiet and Steve can’t let go off the feeling that the monster is right behind him and will pull him with it any second.

Nothing happens, though. It’s dead, Nancy said. He tries to believe her.

November 20, 1983.

Jonathan looks exhausted, there’s no other way to put it. When Steve opens the door to the small hospital room, he hasn’t expected Jonathan’s thick eyebags, the messy hair and he's pretty sure those are the same pants he wore last week during their monster hunting activities.

Nancy had told him that Jonathan had stayed at the hospital the whole week, because his brother had been under observation and would be for one more week. Steve had obviously noticed that Jonathan wasn’t in school, but he didn’t think he’d look this bad. Or, not bad, but messy. 

“Hey”, Steve whispers and closes the door behind him carefully, because Will is taking a nap in the hospital bed way too big for his frail body. He almost looks sunken into the blankets. He can't believe that the boy had survived a week in that other dimension Hawkins. According to Nancy and her younger brother, who had told Steve all about it when he had picked Nancy up for school on Wednesday, said different dimension was scary and dangerous and Will was apparently very wise? He hadn't understood it completely. 

“Hey”, Jonathan asks, slower, watching him up and down like Steve is about to pull out the nail bat and try to beat him up. “You, here?”

Steve nods, looking to the side. “Yeah, well, I wanted to like, wish Will a good recovery. And, uhm, I bought some snacks. Because, you know, hospital food sucks and the vending machines are way too expensive.” God, this is awkward.

“Thanks”, Jonathan answers. “That’s … pretty nice of you.”

He places the packages on Will’s nightstand. “Course. No trouble at all. Uhm, is your mom here?”

Jonathan shakes his head. “Hopper came by earlier, and I’m pretty sure they’re smoking in the parking lot right now. She’ll be back in like ten minutes, I think. She never leaves for longer than thirty minutes.” Steve could go for a cigarette. At least then this wouldn’t feel as awkward and weird as it does.

“Do you have a minute to talk to me?”, Steve asks, fingers nervously scratching at the fabric of his jeans. 

Jonathan looks up to him, seeming almost surprised by the question. “I guess so. In front of the door, if that’s fine by you. I’d prefer to not wake Will up, but I can't go too far away.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure. That’s fine.”

They step in front of the door. It’s late afternoon already, about five, so there’s not much happening in the hallway anymore. Except for a few nurses walking by, it’s relatively quiet.

Jonathan leans against the doorway. Steve swallows.

“When I came by your house last week, I wasn’t actually planning on fighting some sort of interdimensional monster, if you can believe it”, he tries to laugh, but it doesn’t feel very real. “I wanted to apologize but I didn’t get to do it then, so I was hoping to do it now.” He looks up to Jonathan, who has his hands awkwardly buried in the pockets of his jeans. At least, Steve thinks, he’s not the only one around here who doesn’t know what do with himself.

“So, well, I’m sorry. For like, everything. The stuff I said last week, and the stuff we wrote on that wall, and breaking your camera and calling you a creep and whatever other mean thing I’ve said all the years before that. I was … I was a real asshole all those years, but I’m trying to be better. And I hurt you for no reason at all and you didn’t deserve that at all. You’re not weird, like, you’re not like everyone else either, but not in a bad way, you know?” Steve runs his hand through his hair. “You’re just yourself, and that’s great, and I’m really sorry for being an asshole about it. You’re not a failure or a queer, I mean if you are that’s fine, too, but like, not in that derogatory way I said it.”

And Jonathan actually chuckled at that.

Steve smiled, nervously. “Anyways, just… I’m sorry. For it all.”

For a moment, it’s quiet in the hallway. Then Jonathan says, slow and deliberate: “Thank you.”

Steve nods, not knowing what to say. What does thank you even mean? He’s never said thank you to an apology. Though he’s also not quite sure if he’s ever gotten a heartfelt apology. He’s not sure if he’s ever deserved one.

“I don’t really like you, Steve”, Jonathan says. Steve nods. He very much expected that, but he still doesn’t like it. Nobody likes it when someone tells you that they don’t like you, except if maybe they dislike that person even more. But Steve does kind of like Jonathan, even if just a little bit. “I mean, I don’t hate you, either. You helped us that night, and you came back when Nancy sent you away, you apologized and I did also beat you up, so I think that’s enough payment for now.”

That’s better. Not great, but better, and Steve can live with that.

“Just, if you would, keep your two friends away from me. Because while you’re like fine, I really can’t stand them”, Jonathan says, wrinkling his nose.

“You mean Tommy and Carol?”, he asks. “We’re not really friends anymore.”

Jonathan seems surprised to hear that. “You’re not?”

“No”, Steve mumbles, looking to the ground. It’s squeaky clean, like a hospital is expected to be. Not much to stare at. “After we ran off last week, we had like a talk or something like that. And Tommy said we’d get revenge on you and Carol said she can’t believe that I actually liked Nancy and then I told them to shut up and now we’re not friends anymore.” That was barely half of what happened, but Steve really didn’t want to share all of it with Jonathan, about how Tommy scared him shitless and how he was now the one Carol laughed about while standing by her locker.

“Oh”, Jonathan says.

Steve nods.

“I accept your apology, Steve. But if you act like an asshole again, I won’t just sit back and ignore you like I did before.”

“Of course. I won’t be an asshole, promise.” Steve smiles. Jonathan doesn’t, but he doesn’t look unhappy, either. “By the way, Nancy said she collected your school work for you. She’ll bring it by tomorrow afternoon, when she comes by with her brother.”

“That’s nice of her”, Jonathan answers. “So, are you two good then?”

“I think so”, Steve says. They’re not dating, but Nancy still smiles at him the same wonderful way she did before and they sit together at lunch. Sitting with Nancy is nice. It’s a bit awkward, still, but he likes her. Maybe even more, now, after seeing how badass she can be.

Jonathan nods. “Well, I’ve got to get back. Look after Will until my mom’s back. Are you, uhm, going to stay?”

Steve shakes his head. “I’ve got to get home. My parents are coming back from their conference in like an hour and I’ll get in trouble if I’m not there.”

“I’ll see you, then.”

“Yeah”, Steve answers. “I’ll see you. Uhm, tell Will that I hope he gets well soon.”

“Sure, I’ll do that.” Jonathan actually smiles, still careful and looking awkward and unsure, but he’s actually smiling at Steve. Steve can barely believe it. He smiles back, before waving awkwardly and turning to walk down the hall to the elevator.

He feels a lot better. Everything that happened is still fresh and raw, but he likes most of the changes. He likes that Carol isn’t around to call him an idiot, even though she probably does that behind his back now, and that Tommy’s scent doesn’t linger in his car anymore. He likes that he can drive Nancy to school and he likes the way her brother looks at her with admiration since she told him that Steve helped them fight the demogorgon. He likes that Nancy and Jonathan aren’t mad at him anymore and he likes that Jonathan smiled at him just then.

Of course, there’s stuff he doesn’t like. He doesn’t like that he’s alone more often and that he kind of dreads going to his classes because nobody’s there to send him funny notes or to laugh with him in the gym changing rooms. He doesn’t like that he dreams of the monster’s roars and of blood all around him and Nancy and Jonathan lying dead on the ground next to him. And he still doesn’t like that he’s an omega.

The elevator makes beeping sound as it reaches the third floor he’s currently on. Steve steps inside and presses the button to go back downstairs. He wishes he could call up Nancy and stay over, but she had said she needed time and to take it slow, and so that wouldn’t be very appropriate.

Steve dreads going home, though. It’s the last thing he doesn’t like, which is that he doesn’t feel safe in his own home anymore. It feels like any moment, the monster could break through the wall, grab him, eat him, kill him, pull him to the upside down. He doesn’t know how to make it stop, and it’s not like he can do anything about it. Who’d believe him? He’s not five anymore, he’s not supposed to be scared of monsters, and he doesn’t even dare imagine his father’s face if he told him.

And so, Steve gets in his car and drives home anyways. He’s not a weak and pathetic omega, he can get over this bullshit.

Dezember 31, 1983.

Last year on new year’s eve, Steve had been at what was called “the best new year’s eve party in all of Hawkins”. This year, he had barely gotten an invite to said party, and because it was from some girl who was very obviously trying to get into his pants, he had declined immediately.

He had hoped to spend the evening with Nancy, she was his girlfriend now and it was so, so great. They had spent Christmas together and that had been a lot nicer than going to the stiff work-Christmas party thing his father usually pulled him too. He liked Nancy’s family, and he thinks they like him too, at least a little bit. Holly, Nancy’s younger sister, always asks him to draw with her. Mike probably thinks he’s a bit annoying, but that’s fine with Steve. Karen had even gotten him a Christmas present which he hadn’t expected, some sort of fluffy blanket with kind of unformed reindeers on it, but Steve liked it either way.

But Nancy wasn’t here, because their family had some sort of new year’s eve tradition were they all went to visit their grandparents up in Wisconsin. It was okay, of course. No trouble, it was just a few days. At least he hadn’t been forced to come to Chicago with his parents. Unlike this year, his father had just signed and nodded when Steve had told him he wouldn’t go. He was probably happy to get away from his disappointing omega-son.

But that did mean that he had to spend the evening alone.

The house was too big to be alone here. It was already too big for all three of them, but it was even worse alone. Steve had ordered a pizza and bought himself some snacks in an attempt to make the evening nice and cozy and not feel so lonely, but it didn’t work out.

He had started on the couch with some old movie running on the TV, but the movie had been boring and the couch too big and too stiff to sit there comfortably. So, Steve had moved up into his room and finished the pizza on his bed, but it wasn’t good either. It was too open. There was moonlight shining through the window and it felt wrong.

Nancy had said the monster was dead, but Steve hadn’t been able to believe it. If the monster was gone, he should feel safe, this was his home, this was where he slept, this was safe.

All he could think about was what would happen to him if the monster came in. Through the ceiling, right by the corner of his bed, ready to pull him with it.

It wasn’t safe and Steve wanted to cry. He didn’t, of course. He never cried.

But where could he go that was actually safe? Nancy was safe. He had slept over at her place a few times, arms around her thin body, and that had been safe. Her room was always warm and smelt a bit like perfume and like her, of course. But Nancy wasn’t here, so he’d have to make do.

Steve takes a deep breath before looking around the room. Somewhere here had to feel safe. Somewhere here had to be good.

There wasn’t much going on in his room. His bed, which filled up the majority of the space, was too out in the open. He had a small desk, maybe under there would be safe? But it seemed just small enough to be uncomfortable. He’d probably bump his head there if he got up too quickly. There was the closet, too. It was built into the wall, and if he closed the door halfway, it would be open enough to not feel caught or cornered but still closed enough to feel safe and secure. 

Yeah, the closet should work.

Steve grabs the few pillows on his bed and the thick blanket, pulling them all into his closet. It doesn’t look like enough, though, so he goes to the guest bedroom down the hall which is barely used, the only people ever staying over are his grandparents at his mother’s birthday and that’s in July, to grab the spare pillows and blankets.

Steve arranges everything carefully, blankets on the floor to make it nice and comfortable and pillows cushioning the wall and shelves behind him. He even finds the small stuffed teddy he had as young child in a box under his bed, which finds a way into his blanket bundle, too. Lastly, he grabs the fluffy blanket he had gotten as a Christmas presents and makes himself comfortable.

It’s nice. Something’s missing, he thinks, but it’s safe, certainly.

That’s when he first realizes what he had been doing for the last hour. He had built a nest, an actual nest like … well, like omegas do. Last year, they’d talked about it in biology, though Steve doesn’t remember much from that. It was something about omegas building nests to feel comfortable, with scents they are comforted by and all kind of soft things.

Steve doesn’t want to have a nest.

But he made this one, and it’s so nice. He likes lying in here, curled into the soft pillows and fingers stroking the bear’s fur. He really doesn’t want to get up. The blanket smells just a little bit like Nancy. She’s still unpresented, so she doesn’t have much of scent, but she always smells just a little bit milky and sweet, like honey. Still some sort of puppy scent, those are usually milky, but it’s enjoyable, still.

There’s nothing else, though. Laundry detergent, mostly, from the clothes still in the shelves around him.

His own scent isn’t there. That makes sense, of course, but when he thinks about it like this, it feels weird. He doesn’t even know what he smells like, he’s always quick to take off the scent patch on his neck and immediately cover it with a new one.

Slowly, Steve brings his hand up to his neck, fingers running over the fabric off the patch. He wants, so bad. Wants to know his scent and wants to have it all around him.

But he can’t help thinking of his father. He’s acting like such an omega, such a weak and pathetic and idiotic omega who needs a nest to feel safe, which he built in his closet, for god’s sake. It’s embarrassing, there’s no other word for it.

He wants, though. A whine echoes through the closet and for moment Steve worries, is someone here, before he realizes that he was the one who made that noise. He whined. He clasps his hand in front of his mouth to stop himself. Steve Harrington doesn’t whine.

When he’s calmed down, his fingers wander back to the scent patch. He wants, still, even if it’s embarrassing.

His parents won’t be home for another two days. So, if he just kept his nest until tomorrow and then puts it all through the laundry machine with scent neutralizing detergent, that would be fine, right? It’s just one night, they’d never figure it out. He just wants to know, and if he knows then he won’t need it anymore. Then he knows his scent and then he’ll be fine.

Steve pulls the scent patch of, slowly. It pulls at the skin on his neck, it’s a bit uncomfortable but he’d gotten used to that, just like he’d gotten used to the way his scent gland is always a bit red and feels raw to the touch. He folds the scent patch together and throws it to the side, some glue sticks onto his finger. Then he lies back down, cuddling under the blanket again, fingers holding tightly onto the little bear.

He doesn’t know how long he lies there, he can’t see the alarm clock on his nightstand from his closet. From his… nest. But at some point, he can make out a soft vanilla scent. It’s subtle, barely noticeable, but it’s there. As time keeps on ticking by, the scent gets more prominent. He can make out an almondy undertone, sweet, and the vanilla surrounds him.

It’s nice. His scent is nice. He likes it.

And finally, for the first time in a while, Steve can close his eyes while lying in his room and sign in contentment. It's safe. Wrapped up and tightly cuddled into his nest, Steve falls asleep long before the first fireworks go off.

Chapter Text

January 2, 1984.

Steve folds the blankets carefully and places them in the wardrobe in the guest bedroom. It was working, his plan was actually working. Yesterday he had disassembled his nest, or well, maybe it was more of a temporary bed, yeah, that sounded a lot better. And after throwing all the sheets into the washing machine with some scent-neutralizing detergent they smelled just like everything else did around the house.

His parents would be back in a couple hours. Steve wasn’t quite sure if he was excited about it. Mom and father being gone was a weird thing. He usually missed them while they were away, then he anticipated the day they’d leave when they were there. When he had still been hanging out with Tommy and Carol, he’d barely been alone here if they weren’t there, one or both of them always seemed to be hanging around here. But since they were gone, or since he had left them, the house was quieter than usual.

If his parents were home, that changed, but not in a very good way. His father was too loud and too angry and mad, and his mother was hidden and too soft and never managed to open her mouth, even if Steve could smell she was sad or unhappy about whatever father had done.

So, he always is a little bit glad when his parents are gone again, even if he feels guilty for that.

Though, he wonders, did they feel guilty for leaving him here? His mother used to stay home when he had been younger, and they would take him with them during the holidays. That was until his mother told him that they needed some alone time as adults and that he was now grown enough to take care of himself. Since that day, he’d barely left Hawkins.

Steve closes the drawer in the guest bedroom, spraying some scent neutralizer through the room just to be extra safe. He doesn’t want to risk them noticing anything. Then he makes his way downstairs to clean up a little bit more. He hasn’t made much of a mess, he was usually pretty good at being clean especially since there were no more parties happening around here, but it was always better to wipe down everything again before his parents came home. If whatever business hadn’t gone well and his father was in a bad mood, he always found something to be mad at, like it was a secret talent.

While the radio plays in the background, Steve gets to wiping down the counters. He’s slept a lot better since the night in his nest-adjacent-thing, so he’s awake enough to quietly sing along to the music while he’s working.

It’s almost nice.

He misses Nancy and on the back of his mind is still that Barb had died in his pool, but it’s a nice day, for once. Maybe the nesting thing really did help for once- but, no. That couldn’t be. He wasn’t an omega like that. He just happened to be an omega, there was nothing omega-like about him. He was strong and athletic and dominant and not pathetic or weak like that.

And what if his father found out? He’d be so done. He’d be a “good for nothing” again. His father couldn’t know that he had acted like an omega. He could never find out, or Steve would be so done.

He hates this. Why did he have to be an omega? Why did he need to have these dumb instincts and why did they have to impact him? He could’ve just been normal and then his dad didn’t have to be angry and mad and hate him so much-

Steve sits down by the table, resting his head in his hands. He couldn’t deal with this. He needs to calm down and take a couple of deep breaths, in and out, in and out. The house was clean, there was no nest, not even remains of a nest, and everything was okay. Except for the monster stuff, but that- that wasn’t important right now. What was important was that his father never found out how he had acted like an omega.

And Steve could do that, obviously. He was great at pretending. He should become an actor.  

It takes another hour for his parents to come home, which Steve spends sitting on a chair by the pool. In the background, the radio host talks to some singer that Steve doesn’t really care about. He stares at the water, fingers holding onto the sleeves of the sweater he’s wearing. It’s way too thin to sit outside in the winter, he’s kind of freezing, but Steve can’t find the strength to go back inside and change. He’s not sure he even cares to do so, because the cold distracts him a bit from everything going on inside this head.

Steve is thinking about smoking a cigarette, which he hasn’t done in a while because it’s a bad habit he had picked up from Tommy, but also because Nancy didn’t like the smell and well, he liked kissing her, when he hears the car pull up in the driveway. Usually, they don’t particularly care if he greets them or if he’s out with friends, as long as they’re friends which wouldn’t ruin their reputation, but well, he’s home, so he should probably at least say hello before going to hide in his room again. It’s far off from playing happy family like they used to when he was younger, but it might be something.

So, Steve finds the strength to stand up and walk to the hallway. He leans against the stairs, suddenly tired again.

The lock turns, and his parents walk inside, pulling their luggage after them. “Hello, Steve”, his mother is the first to greet him after placing her suitcase, which is more than half her size and was probably ridiculously expensive, next to their shoe cabinet. “Did you have a nice new year’s eve?” She starts taking off her dark brown wild leather boots.

“Yeah, yeah, sure. Just had dinner with some friends”, the lie leaves his mouth ridiculously easy.

His father closes the door behind himself after he had bought in the last bag. “Are you finally letting go off that Wheeler girl?”

Isn’t that a nice greeting? Steve takes a deep breath. His father isn’t a big fan of Nancy. The Wheelers aren’t successful enough for him and spend their time with what was, in his father’s words, the lower class. But really, his father doesn’t really like anyone, so Steve tries not to let himself get influenced by those opinions.

“Nancy was just on vacation”, Steve says slowly. “She’ll be back on the fourth.”

His father signs, but doesn’t say anything else. Instead, he walks through the corridor to the downstairs bathroom. When the lock turns, Steve is just about to walk back up the stairs. “I’m glad you had fun, Steve”, his mother interrupts him. “Nancy’s a sweet girl.”

“Yeah, mom”, he answers. “Thanks. I’ll go upstairs, okay?”

She nods, her attentions already back on taking off the heavy winter coat to hang it up. Steve finally makes his way to his room. If his mother would be able to say that in front of his father, maybe he wouldn’t have such an opinion of Nancy. But she never did that, instead she waited until his father left to say something nice in an attempt to fix whatever fight they’d had and then go do her own thing and pretend everything was fine. Steve can’t help but wrinkle his nose at that.

She really is such an omega.

February 14, 1984.

Life is weird. It’s not good, but it’s not bad, either, and Steve doesn’t know how to deal with this weird in between. 

He’s not unhappy. He has Nancy, and Nancy is great and perfect and lovely, like she always is. He has basketball, which serves to take him out of his mind a bit. At least when he’s playing alone in his front yard, not when he’s in school and Tommy throws him those gazes in the locker room. School is, well, school, but due to Nancy’s motivation he’s doing a little bit better in most subjects. They even started studying together in the library. He’s getting C’s now instead of D’s, in everything except English. Fuck English, really. 

But not unhappy isn’t quite happy, either. The whole monster-stuff is still fresh on his mind, just as Barb’s death, and he knows it’s on Nancy’s mind too. Sometimes she just stares into nothingness while they’re studying, and Steve’s pretty sure she’s thinking about Barb because studying in the back of library was what they used to do. They usually only meet up at her house, too, because neither of them like hanging out at his.

Then there’s his lost friendship with Tommy and Carol. He doesn’t miss them, and he most definitely doesn’t regret letting them go, but he misses everything that came with them. He misses all the parties in Carol’s backyard and drinking too much and kissing people he’ll never talk to again, just for the sake of it. He misses gossiping on the drive home from school, even if they were always so unbelievably mean. He misses having someone to always hang around. Nancy is a busy woman, with school here and then looking after her siblings there and dealing with grief, she has a lot less time for him than Tommy and Carol used to have.

Maybe he doesn’t even miss Tommy and Carol and those parties and talking about others like they aren’t real people, maybe he just misses having friends. Because as much as it pains him to say, he doesn’t really have any other friends. A fall from grace, it would be called in those books Nancy loves.

Steve’s trying, though. He wants to be a good boyfriend and a good son and a good person altogether.

 That’s why he needs this valentine’s day to be wonderful. He had spent a lot of time thinking about what to do, because it had to be good, great, absolutely amazing. Maybe distract Nancy a bit from everything that had happened. She deserved to have an actual nice day.

Steve had planned said nice day for them. They’d go to the cinema, watch some romance movie that was all over the posters and go get dinner at the fanciest restaurant around, Enzo’s, after. It wasn’t that special, he’d originally asked Nancy if she’d like to leave town with him, maybe drive to Indianapolis and go to the museum or shopping or do whatever else she was currently into, but she had declined, because valentine’s day was on Tuesday and she had school until four that day. He had almost offered to just go on the weekend, but Nancy didn’t seem particularly interested, anyways.

So, cinema and Enzo’s it was.

Because his lessons ended earlier than Nancy’s on Tuesdays, he had driven home to shower and change for their date. Now, his hair is styled up like it always is, because even when people don’t really like him anymore, the least they can do is still admire his hair. He’s wearing a white button up, jeans and his favourite dark blue corduroy jacket. It’s a bit too fancy for the cinema, but it’ll be just right for Enzo’s after. He even bought a tie to look a bit more grown up and serious later, hopefully he can remember how to tie it.

Steve leans against the hood of his car so that he can see when Nancy leaves the school building. In between his fingers, he’s wrinkling the paper of the flowers he got for her. White, purple, light pink, fitting to the dress Nancy had been wearing earlier and to the light colouring of her room, because he knows that she likes it to all fit together.

He looks at the watch on his wrist. The bell rang a minute or two ago, but Nancy always needs a moment to pack up her things, so she’ll need a few more moments.

“Waiting on your little princess, Harrington?”, he hears a familiar voice. Steve turns around to see Tommy and Carol walk up the small path to the parking lot.  

Carol, like always, has her hands buried in the pockets of her favourite striped jacket. She got it for her birthday last year, Steve and Tommy were there to eat cake with her family, before they had a party in the evening. It feels like it’s been years since that day, even though it were barely five months. “Not like he has anything else to do”, Carol says, grinning. She blows a gum bubble and lets it pop.

Tommy’s smoking, and his other arm is thrown over Carol’s shoulder. He smokes more often now, Steve thinks. They used to smoke at parties or in his backyard, but never at school. “That’s because he’s all lonely now, stuck with Wheeler”, Tommy laughs. “How does it feel, hmm?”

Steve sighs, looking away. “Piss off.” He’s not in mood to talk to either of them. While he thinks about them way too often, in a weird mix of “I miss them” and “I never want to talk them ever again”, he’s well aware they’re just looking for trouble. Tommy does that in art class, too. Mrs. Noral won’t let them switch seats, so they’re still stuck sitting beside each other.

“You don’t even got a good comeback, huh?”, Carol asks.

“He’s turned weak, Carol”, Tommy says, the smoke of his cigarette mixing with his natural alpha scent. “What a surprise, after hanging out with the princess and the creep.”

Steve doesn’t answer. This was supposed to, is still supposed to be, a good day. He really does not want to ruin their date because all he can think about is Tommy and Carol trying to make fun of him. Nancy always tells him that there’s no use in entertaining their teasing, and she’s right, even though Steve wishes he could just do something to make them shut up.

“He’s probably turned into a creep too, now. Creep gang”, Carol grins. Steve hears her laugh as they turn, walking past him to Tommy’s car in the back of the parking lot.

“Bye, bye, Harrington!”, Tommy calls after him. Steve swallows. Tommy never calls him Steve anymore. Or Stevie, like they used to. It’s always Harrington now, sometimes loser, and he’s pretty sure Carol got her friends to call him fallen angel. At least that’s creative.

Steve tries to ignore it all, tries to bury the things he hears about himself, the things that Tommy and Carol say to him, deep in the back of his mind, right next to his memories of the monster and Barb’s death in his backyard. He needs to stay strong, stay in lane, not let himself be bothered by it. By how it hurts a little bit whenever he hears others call him mean names and laugh at him while he’s walking down the hallway. By how he hears the monsters screams in his sleep. By how he stills hasn’t had an actual heat.

He shakes his head. He needs to get over it. He’s fine. Everything’s fine. The monster stuff is over, and people may not like him, his father may not like him, but that’s okay. It’s not horrible, it’s not like how they treated Jonathan, he’s just being dramatic. He shouldn’t be dramatic, he’s a Harrington.

“Hey Steve”, Nancy’s voice pulls him out of his thoughts. Steve looks up, and oh, he didn’t even realize that she’s here already. She’s standing right in front of him, in the pretty dress she wore this morning already, but now with her hair open, falling over her shoulders. The earlier braids made it all fluffy and wavy.

“Everything okay? I called for you and you seemed lost in thought”, she asks.

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s okay. Just thinking”, he tries a smile, and it works, because Nancy always makes him smile. “You look great.” He offers her the flowers. Tulips, because she can’t stand roses.

“Thanks”, she says, smiling, too. “They’re really pretty.”

“I thought they might fit your dress, that’s why they’re purple, but also your room, so I tried to make it look lighter by adding the white.”

“Thanks for thinking of that”, she chuckles, holding the flowers and letting her finger run over the petals carefully. “I’ll put them in a vase on my nightstand when I’m back home.” She looks up at him, chuckling slightly, and a strand of hair falls over her face.

Steve tucks it behind her ear again, before carefully pulling her closer to not damage the flowers. Their kiss is slow and careful, like they usually are these days, as if they’re afraid of hurting each other. Nancy’s lips are warm in contrast to his, which feel ice cold thanks to the still freezing winter air all around them.

“You’re cold”, Nancy whispers against his lips. “You should’ve worn a scarf, and gloves, before you freeze to death.”. Her breath is nice and warm against his skin. She’s probably right, he should have waited in the car, then he also could have avoided Tommy and Carol. Hopefully he won’t get a cold.

“No trouble”, he just says and gives her another kiss, before stepping away. “Let’s get going? Movie’s starting soon.”

Nancy nods. “Let’s hope the cinema will be warmer.”

“Hot like me.”

Nancy just sighs, but he can see her chuckle as they both get into the car.

March 5, 1984.

Steve wonders into how many pieces the lunch tray would break apart if he let it fall. If it would even break at all, or if he’d just make a big mess of noodles and tomato sauce all over the cafeteria floor. Maybe he should let it fall. Maybe making a mess and then joking about it like an idiot was better than sitting alone.

Nancy was sick today. She had been sick the last few days already, but that had been the weekend, so Steve could sit by her side and offer her tissues and bring the soup her mother had made up to her room and read her the book she needed to finish for English class because her eyes always fell closed when she tried to do it herself.

Today is Monday, though, and Monday meant school. School without Nancy. It was the first time she was sick since he had stopped talking to pretty much everyone, and he didn’t know what to do about it. Maybe he should take the lunch tray with him into the hall, to the toilets or to the back of the library, like the nerds did in the movies. Steve wasn’t a nerd, far from it, but for some reason he thought about hiding in a bathroom stall anyways. Fucking embarrassing.

He sees Tommy and Carol sit at their usual table, where he had spent every damn lunch break with them just half a year ago. They were laughing about something, with some more people Steve couldn’t really give a shit about.

“Can you not stand in the way like that, Steve?”, a girl pushes past him and he takes a step to the side. Her blonde ponytail moves when she walks over to her friends.

“Sorry”, he says, but she’s already busy greeting the others at their table.

Steve sighs, and before anyone else can comment on him standing around he walks past the tables towards the back of the cafeteria. There are a few girls sitting on one of the tables, studying, and on another the local weirdos, guys with long hair who constantly have rumours about them selling drugs going around. On the last table, Steve spots Jonathan Byers.

Jonathan and him have barely talked ever since Steve apologized in the hospital. Steve hadn’t even given him the camera he bought as an apology himself, because he wasn’t sure Jonathan was going to accept it from him, so he had asked Nancy to gift it. She was better at wrapping it up anyways. The most they talked had been a few words loose words when Steve was hanging out at Nancy’s and Jonathan came over to pick up his little brother.

Back in November, Steve had expected them to become friends. They fought a monster together, after all. They were a good team, all three of them. And now Nancy was friends with Jonathan and dating Steve, and Steve and Jonathan nodded at each other on occasion. He didn’t think it’d end like that.

“Hey”, he says to Jonathan, who looks up from his sandwich. He’s wearing headphones, connected to a Walkman in the pocket of his zip-up jacket. “Can I sit here?”

Jonathan presses a button on the Walkman and pushes one of the earpieces to the side. “What?”

“Can I sit here?”, Steve repeats. His fingertips turn white from how hard he’s gripping the tray. If he’d let it fall now, tomato sauce would spread all over his light blue jeans and Jonathan’s shoulder bag sitting on the floor. He grips it tighter.

“Whatever”, Jonathan says a second later, head moving to look at the sandwich in his hands again. Steve can see his eyes follow him as he sits down, though.

They don’t talk while Jonathan takes little bites of his sandwich and Steve tries to swallow down the overcooked noodles. He wants to say something, anything, because he can’t stand the silence. He likes talking about anything at all, dumb stuff just to say anything at all. Everything’s better than the uncomfortable quiet.

“What are you listening too?”, he asks, because there’s really nothing else to say except for “What’s on your sandwich?” and Steve can see that it’s peanut butter and jelly.

Jonathan looks up like he’s surprised Steve’s actually talking to him, as if Steve isn’t the one who always tries to at least say “hi” when he sees Jonathan in the hallways or on the way to pick up the pups in the Wheeler’s basement.

“The misfits”, Jonathan says after a moment of contemplation. “Last caress.”

“I don’t know that band”, Steve replies. He likes music, but he doesn’t have much knowledge of it, like of basically anything else. When he drove to Indianapolis with Tommy and Carol for his birthday last year, they went to some big ass music store, but it was so overwhelming that he only ended up buying some mainstream stuff so that he didn’t have to listen to the radio all the time. Whatever Jonathan liked was probably what Tommy’s father had always referred to as “no real music”.

“It’s punk.”

Steve nods slowly and shoves the last bite of noodles into his mouth. “Cool”, he answers, because there’s nothing else to say. He wonders what the song sounds like, why Jonathan likes it, but he doesn’t ask because this is awkward enough as it is.

“Where’s Nancy?”, Jonathan asks. “You usually eat with her.” He takes the last bite of the first sandwich half, looking very much over it when he swallows.

“Yeah, yeah, I do, but she’s sick”, Steve says. “Her mom says it’s the flu. She’s been sick, like, the whole weekend.”

“Oh. Well, I hope she feels better soon.” Jonathan’s gone back to staring at his sandwich.

“Are you not hungry anymore?”, Steve asks, motioning to it. He hasn’t brought food to school in ages, the last time was probably back in elementary school, when his mother still used to pack his lunches.

Jonathan shrugs. “I’m kind of over it, I guess.”

“You can be over peanut butter and jelly?”

A small smile, just barely, forms on Jonathan’s face. “When you eat it every day for years, yeah.”

“You know you can pack something else, right? There’s other spread for bread”, Steve points out.

“Yeah, but this is easy. Easy and cheap.”

Steve nods. He doesn’t think about money too much, because he never had too. When he was younger, the fridge was always filled to the brim. Now, with his parents leaving more often, he was usually the only one going shopping which showed by the amount of ready meals, but still, he never went hungry because he didn’t have too much money. “We can switch, if you want.”

“Switch what?”, Jonathan asks, looking up to him. His hair has grown out, the bowl cut isn’t too recognisable anymore. It almost covers his eyes.

Steve grabs the pudding and spoon on his lunch tray and places it in front of Jonathan. “It’s chocolate, if you like that.”

Jonathan takes a moment, just looking from the pudding to Steve. “Fine.” He gives Steve the leftover half of the sandwich. “Thanks.”

Steve wants to say something, like “you’re welcome” or “no big deal”, but no words leave his mouth. In favour of not looking too awkward, he takes a bite of the bread. He seriously can’t remember the last time he had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Maybe he should make it more often, because this is seriously better than all those ready-in-three-minutes things he usually eats. Or maybe he should try actually cooking. He has enough time on his hands with no friends, after all.

“Pudding’s nice”, Jonathan says. “It’s been a while since I’ve had one.”

“Same here”, Steve replies, taking another bite of the sandwich. “I forgot that I liked these.” He stares at the bread for a moment, before he looks up to Jonathan. “You know, you can sit with me and Nance, too. If you want, I mean.”

Jonathan looks at him with wide brown eyes. “I’ll think about it. Maybe. Like… maybe.” He’s smiling at him, though, careful and uncertain, but he looks beautiful. Steve can’t believe he’d never noticed how pretty Jonathan Byers can be. He’s always looked at his outdated haircut or thrifted clothes or run down car but never at the actual Jonathan.

Well, except for when he had first noticed Jonathan’s scent. Right now, he can’t pick up on any scent except for the tomato sauce and peanut butter though, because most people in school are wearing a scent patch, like him, and probably like Jonathan.

Steve wishes he could, so that he could know if Jonathan thinks he’s being nice or if he wants Steve to go away. But most of all, there’s the selfish wish of wanting to pick up on Jonathan’s comfortable scent again. He had only smelled it once, but somehow, it left a mark on him.

“I’ve got to go”, Jonathan says, putting the now empty pudding cup back on Steve’s tray. “Lunch break’s almost over and I have to collect my photographs from the dark room.” He stands up, pulling his shoulder bag on the table to shove his water bottle and the empty lunch bag into. “See you, Steve.”

“Yeah, see you”, Steve answers, watching as Jonathan walks away. While walking, he puts his headphones back on, and only know does Steve realize that Jonathan had at some point during their conversation put them done. Had not just shoved an earpiece away so that he could entertain Steve as much as he needed to, but had instead actually listened.

And they had talked. A short and not very meaningful conversation, but it was … something. More than in the last few months.

Steve slings his own bag over his shoulder and grabbed the lunch tray to put it away. So, punk. What was that band called again? The misfit? The misfits? He’d probably remember it if he saw it in a store. Whatever the name was, it fit to Jonathan. Not that Jonathan was a misfit, he just didn’t fit into the crowd of Hawkin’s jocks and cheerleaders, and that was probably a good thing, because Steve knew from experience that most of those people were assholes. Jonathan probably had a different crowd he fit into, where he’d find his place. Like, he fit into their monster hunter group perfectly, Steve thought.

Maybe he should look for a cassette of that band at the small record store downtown.

March 27, 1984.  

“You know you don’t have to come with me, right?”, Nancy asks once again. She had said that at least a hundred times ever since Steve had agreed to visit Barb’s parents with her last Friday. Steve wasn’t sure how much more he could reassure here that it was okay and that he didn’t mind. Of course, this wasn’t the ideal evening, but it was important to Nancy and therefore, it was important to him.

“Yes, Nance, I know”, Steve says. “I want too.” Nancy doesn’t look entirely convinced, but she doesn’t say anything else anymore and instead rings the doorbell.

The house of the Hollands looks like every other house on the street. Single storied, green grass in the front yard, a big car in front of the garage, an ugly garden gnome by the door. There are weeds growing in between the stones leading to the front door. If that were their front yard, his mother would’ve ordered a gardener to come by, because what if anyone found out there were weeds growing in the Harrington’s garden?

Just like their house, Mr. and Mrs. Holland look like every typical American couple. “Hello, sweetie!”, Mrs. Holland is quite a tall woman with short, curled hair. Steve’s pretty sure she’s wearing some type of make-up, though it doesn’t look like half as much as what his mother likes to put on her face. “And you must be Steve. Welcome.” She has a sweet smile, though it looks exactly like the one most people put on when they have guests over.

He smiles back, trying his best to look like a good guest. He’s good at that. He did it at all kind of company parties and meetings when he was younger. His father used to take Steve with him so that everyone could call him cute and a sweet pup.

“Hello, Mrs. Holland. Thank you for inviting me”, Steve says and shakes her hand.

Mrs. Holland shows them to the dining room, which is a lot smaller than the one in Steve’s house, but almost every house is smaller than his house, so that’s just a pretty bad scale. It looks homey, though, with flowery wall paper and one of those clocks with a wooden bird on it. The windowsill is decorated with pictures of their daughter. Though, if Steve looks around, they’re really all over the room.

“Just take a seat wherever you like”, Mrs. Holland says, smiling at them still. “I’ll be back in a moment with dinner.”

Steve follows Nancy to one side of the small table and sits down beside her.

“What do you usually do at these dinners?”, he whispers to Nancy, because he can’t think of a single thing that he could talk about with these people. He barely knew Barb, had talked to her maybe four or five times, and it wasn’t like she was particularly keen on talking to him, either. She had always seemed to dislike him, and honestly, he couldn’t blame her for that.

“What we’ve been up to, Barb of course, and how they’re doing and you know, stuff like that”, Nancy whispers back, and that’s no help at all. Should he just tell them how they’ll lose the basketball championship? “That’s why I told you that you didn’t have to come, I know it’s awkward but- “

“No, it’s no problem”, Steve quickly interrupts her. “I just wasn’t sure what would be the right thing to say. But I’m glad we’re here. I want to be… there for you.”

Nancy opens her mouth to say something else, but in that moment, Mrs. Holland comes back into the room holding a steaming casserole dish. Mr. Holland follows behind her, a bottle of coke in his hands.

“I hope you like potato and beef casserole?”, Mrs. Holland asks while placing the dish on the table. “I made green jelly as desert.”

“Sounds great”, Steve answers, and Nancy nods along beside him.

“Lovely”, Mrs. Holland says, offering them a big scoop. Steve holds his plate up, and she dumps the casserole onto it.

“Would you like a beer, young man?”, Mr. Holland asks as he opens a bottle for himself. “I’m guessing you’re not 21 yet, but not like anybody would now…”

“Thomas!”, Mrs. Holland mumbles to her husband as she dumps another scoop on Nancy’s plate and reaches for the one of her husband. “He’s still a child, you can’t just offer him beer.”

“I drank when I was his age. Most pups drink at his age, I heard. Gary’s always complaining about his son drinking, and that one is, what, fifteen?”, Mr. Holland talks, mainly to himself. Mrs. Holland rolls her eyes, but still tries to keep up her smile when she’s looking at Nancy and Steve.

“It’s alright, I don’t want anything”, Steve says. “I like coke.” Mr. Holland nods and fills their glasses.

They all sit down for dinner and after Mrs. Holland says a quick grace, they dig into the food. Even though the whole thing looks suspiciously like cafeteria food, it actually tastes pretty good and Steve finishes his plate quickly. All the while, Nancy talks about her upcoming exams, with occasional comments about how she misses studying with Barb.

“And you, Steve? How are you doing?”, Mrs. Holland asks him while using a napkin to tap around her mouth, careful to not wipe her lipstick off.

“Oh, well, I play basketball”, he says, because he can’t think of anything to tell them. “We have a game on the weekend.” He’s also trying to study, occasionally attends a party with Nancy, but he doesn’t need to tell them that. Basketball is easier to talk about.

“Go tigers”, Mr. Holland throws in. Steve nods along.

“Ah, we saw you play last year then. Barbara was in band, so we attended all the games”, Mrs. Holland picks the napkin up again to wipe her eyes. “Good luck to you!”

“Thanks”, Steve says. He’s pretty sure they’re going to lose, the team they’re playing against on the weekend is the best one currently. And well, the Hawkins team is just kind of shit. Steve’s never really thinking about basketball anymore when he’s playing basketball, he’s pretty sure Tommy’s thinking of how to best take his anger out on everyone, and he’s not sure if the others are thinking at all. “I’m sure we’ll win it!”

Mr. Holland lifts his beer bottle. “Cheers to that!”

“Cheers!” The glass clunks against each other. Steve takes a sip, the coke is warm by now.

Nancy looks over to him, looking like she wants to bury herself in the jiggling, bright green jelly Mrs. Holland just placed in front of them. Steve knows this is important to her, because she misses her best friend and because she has a good heart and feels bad for them and they don’t even know the truth about what happened to their daughter, but he can’t help but chuckle at her expression.

“It’ll be okay, Nance”, he whispers when the Hollands aren’t looking. “I love you.”

She leans her head on his shoulder, offering him a spoonful of her jelly. “Thanks, Steve. I love you too.”

May 30, 1984.

Steve needs his father to leave. To take a business trip or a vacation or go to a damn strip club, he doesn’t care, he just needs him gone. His parents have been home for almost three full weeks, three full consecutive weeks, Steve can’t stand it anymore. Sometimes, he wishes his parents were home more often, that he wouldn’t mostly live off of ready meals and cafeteria food, that he had someone who cared. Now, he promises himself, he will never ask for any of that again.

“Where are you going, Steve? We aren’t done yet! We’re still talking”, his father’s voice is as loud and unrelenting as always. Like thunder, like the screams of that monster. “I can’t believe you think this is good.”

“It’s not like you ever cared before”, Steve yells back, grabbing the exam paper from the kitchen table. His father is standing in the doorway to the corridor. “When was the last time you even asked about my exam’s?”

“Of course I care. And a B- is just not acceptable.”

Steve wants to cry. A B- was good, for him, at least. He had studied hard for this dumb biology exam, Nancy had helped him make flashcards and had quizzed him with them every possible moment, until he was able to answer them perfectly. And she had told him she was proud of him and then he had gotten his first B- in biology since what, third grade? That had felt good, and now his father was ruining it all.

“It’s better than what I usually get, but you don’t know that, because you don’t care! You just care about your dumb reputation and your company and- “

“That’s no way to talk to your father, Steve”, his mother says. She’s cutting vegetables, into fine little cubes which look annoyingly perfect. “Of course he cares for you.”

“Then he’d know that I’m shit at school and have always been shit at it. And that I worked hard for this!”, Steve is screaming, now. And he knows he shouldn’t, because getting louder never works, because it only makes him cry and everyone around him even more angry, but he can’t stop. He wishes he had something different than that damn exam paper in his hand so he could throw it at his father.

“You need to work harder, then”, his father says, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. “I want you to get into a good college and have a good GPA so that one day, you can follow into my footsteps and take over the company. It’s the least you can do after…”, he sighs heavily. “…that disappointment last year.”

Steve swallows. That’s what it’s all about then. That’s what it’s always been about. “You just can’t take that I’m an omega because it doesn’t fit into your image of the perfect suburban family, so now I suddenly need to be perfect at everything?”

“I don’t have the time to discuss this with you, Steve, if you’re being so childish”, his father says, pulling on a suit jacket over the white button up he’s wearing. It’s ironed perfectly, like always.

Steve doesn’t see how this is childish. First, his father gets angry at him about grades he never cared about before and then calls him a disappointment, which is arguably the childish thing because how is it Steve’s fault that he presented as an omega? He surely never asked for this.

“It’s not my fault that I’m an omega! I never wanted my own father to call me a disappointment!”

“Steve”, his mother sighs in the background, but he doesn’t listen.

“But I can’t do anything about it now! And I’m literally doing exactly what you told me, I… I take my suppressants every day, I always use scent blockers, I wash everything in scent neutralizing detergent, I spray my room with scent neutralizer every morning even though there’s nothing to neutralize!”, his heart feels like it’ll jump out of his chest, that’s how fast it’s beating. Steve gasps for air. “And I haven’t even had my first heat yet, even though you told me I’d have it at a more convenient time. But here we are, and there’s no convenient time because you simply think it’s inconvenient that I’m an omega and hope it’ll just magically go away!”

His father steps closer. Unlike Steve, he’s not wearing blockers, and his alpha scent, bitter almond and coffee, fills the room up. It makes it hard to breathe. Somehow, the coffee note in father’s scent is so different than the one in Jonathan’s. It’s not warm and comforting and homey, but harsh, cold, like someone is dumping coffee all over Steve’s for ditching them.

“I’m giving you the chance to apologize here, Steve. You will apologize and then you will go upstairs to your room and think about what you just said”, his father’s voice is calm, but the anger in the air around him is only getting stronger with every word. “I don’t have the time for your teenage problems. You will work to get actual good grades so that you can follow the plan that has always been laid out for you.”

There are tears gathering in Steve’s eyes, and they won’t go away, no matter how many times he blinks. It feels like they’re taunting him, so that he can see how weak, how omega he is.

“Fuck you”, Steve says. It feels just as scary as fighting the monster, only there’s nobody behind him who can help him. He wants Nancy, he almost even wants Jonathan-

His father’s hand hits Steve’s face perfectly, and the tears fall freely.

“Don’t you dare talk to me that way”, his father starts, but Steve’s already running past him into the corridor, the exam paper crumbled up in his hand. His face hurts, surely not half as bad as in his fight against Jonathan, but everything else about the situation makes it worse. It’s more something deep inside of him hurting than his face.

„Steve! Where do you think you’re going?”, his father follows him to the front door. Steve wipes his eyes with the back of his hand, but they stay blurry. Behind him, he can hear his mother’s heels clicking against the tiles in the kitchen. “Steve, dear, come back”, she calls for him.

Fuck her. Fuck his father. Fuck them.

Steve doesn’t answer. If anything, he’d make it worse by screaming at them more, and with the added tears, it’d only serve to have his father call him weak and pathetic for breaking down like this. He already feels shitty enough. Instead, he pulls open the front door and runs onto the gravelly driveway towards his car. After a moment of struggling, he pulls the keys out of the pocket in his jeans and manages to open the car door.

“Steve, please”, his mother calls for him again, like it’ll do anything. Like she did anything when his father slapped him across the face. Like she did anything when he blamed Steve for being an omega.

He slams the car door closed and throws the crumbled exam paper on the seat beside him. He needs to get far, far away. That’s all that counts. He can hear his parents yell after him as he starts the engine and pushes down on the gas pedal, but they’re easily drowned out by the music blasting through his speakers.

And Steve drives. He wipes his eyes again, because they’re still clouded with tears and he can barely see the street in front of him. It does not feel safe driving like this, even though it’s late and the streets are pretty much empty.

He turns the music even louder. It’s a new cassette he bought, one that the record store employee told him would be similar to that band that Jonathan liked and that if he liked that one, he’d like this one as well. Steve had taken a liking to it. It was loud and strong and great for turning the volume so high it’d drown out any other thought. A few leftover tears run down his cheek while he mumbles along to the lyrics of “death or glory”. His face fells clammy from the tears that dried on his cheeks.

Steve’s not completely sure where he’s going. Hawkins is a small town and there’s only so much space to drive around aimlessly. He gets through three more tracks on the cassette and drives by the supermarket two times before he parks just down the street of the Wheeler house.

The Clash is still singing it away in the background while Steve stares at the empty street in front of him. Every car is orderly parked in the driveway, the green grass in front of the houses is mowed and perfectly green. Steve can see the lights in the Wheeler house, the one in the living room is still on, as is the one in Nancy’s room.

He wants to go to Nancy, but he’s not sure if that’s the right choice here. It’s not like he could tell Nancy about it all. He could tell her about the grades and college and what his father had apparently planned for him, but he couldn’t tell her the real reason for it all.

Some part of him wanted too. Some part that wanted to hear “it’s okay to be an omega, Steve, it doesn’t change who you are”. But that wouldn’t happen. Nobody could know. Nancy wouldn’t tell anyone, he knew that, but if his father figured out he told someone? He had slapped Steve across the face for being rude and getting bad grades and Steve didn’t want to find out what would happen if he went against direct orders like “under no circumstances let anybody find out that you’re an omega”.

However, he didn’t want to be alone and he didn’t want to go home either. It was okay to want that, right? He’d just complain a bit to Nancy about his parents and his grades, get a hug from her and then he’d go home. It wasn’t like he was telling her the serious stuff.  

Steve turns the engine off and gets out of his car. The walk to the Wheeler house is quick, as is the short climb up to Nancy’s window. By now, he’s done it often enough to get used to it, even though it still feels a little bit cool every single time.

The curtains are almost completely closed, but Steve can see Nancy sitting on her bed, reading some book he’d never even think of touching based on how thick it is. He really loves how much she is into that stuff, though. He could listen to Nancy talk about how great or how idiotic the book she’s currently reading is all day long.

He knocks on the window, carefully, and Nancy looks up immediately. He tries to wave at her and wipes his cheeks again, the tear stains are probably still visible and his eyes are cried red. Suddenly, he feels a lot more embarrassed. “Harringtons don’t cry”, his father used to say when he was eleven and came running to his mother after falling while playing with Tommy.

Nancy has put her book aside by now and walks over to the window. She doesn’t seem all that happy to see him here, though Steve takes no offence from that. It’s late on a school night, he knows how much she usually likes to follow her evening routine and go to sleep early.

“What are you doing here, Steve?”, she asks after opening the window. “I was about to go to bed.” But she steps aside anyways to let him inside. 

He slips into her room, smoothing his shirt over. “Sorry, I’m not trying to disturb you or anything, I just- “

Nancy sighs. “You just what? You know what my mother will do if she ever finds out you snuck in, right? We’d be so done for- Wait, what happened to your cheek?” She pushes his hair to the side to get a better look at his face. “Were you crying?”

Steve tries a chuckle. For once, it doesn’t really work, it just makes the tears well up again. “Yeah, like, it’s a long story. Though, not really, it’s just… hard to talk about.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Actually, he would like her to hold him tightly and cry into her lilac shirt, but he’s not going to say that.

“Maybe, I mean, yeah…”, he trails off. It’s hard to get the words to leave his mouth. Talking is usually something Steve is good at. Small talk, flirting, motivating the basketball team, running his mouth in class. He’s never talked about things like this, though. Real things. Tommy and Carol knew that his relationship with his parents wasn’t great, it had never been, and especially not after he turned twelve or thirteen. But he’d never had to say it, like Tommy had never said that the bruises on his arms were from his father. They just knew, and they told each other that everything would be okay. That had always been enough.

“Sit down, then”, Nancy says. Steve nods, pulling of his dirty sneakers before finding a comfortable position next to her on the bed. She’d left the window slightly open, a light breeze runs through his hair.

“Thanks”, he mumbles, pulling his knees close. Nancy’s blanket, with a cute floral pattern, covers his feet. He’s not cold, it’s already ridiculously warm for May nights, but his hands are shaking anyways.

Nancy looks over to him, placing her hand on his knee. “So? What happened?”

“Okay, uhm, you remember the biology test you helped me study for?”, Steve asks. He had never thought he’d like studying, not like he’d ever done much of it, but it had almost been kind of fun with Nancy by his side.

“Yeah, sure”, Nancy answers. “We made like, what, forty flashcards? And you got a B!” She smiles at him and looks almost proud. Steve swallows.

“A B- “, he corrects her. “But yeah, that one. Well, my parents have been home for a few weeks now because my father had to do some stuff at the office here. And when he gets home he’s always agitated, I don’t know if it’s because of the office or because of me or if he just can’t stand Hawkins, but- “

Nancy doesn’t say anything, but she does look a bit confused at the sentence. Steve knows she doesn’t understand completely, because while her father doesn’t do much more than work, eat and fall sleep on the couch, he’s pretty sure he loves Nancy with everything he has.

“Sorry, I just got of track with that”, Steve interrupts himself. “I just mean he’s already in a bad mood when he comes home. And then today, I had left my exam out on the counter because I had told mom about it and forgot to put it back. Dad saw it when he came home and he got really mad and started complaining about my grades, even though he’s never cared before. I’m pretty sure he didn’t even see my report card last year, because he never cares.”

“Oh”, Nancy whispers. “But he cared today?”

Steve nods, gripping tightly onto the edges of Nancy blanket. “Yeah, yeah, he thinks that my grades are, you know, kind of shit. And I guess he’s right, I’m not that good in school, but I tried this time and all he had to tell me was that a B- wasn’t good enough and that I’m ruining the plans he had for me. Apparently he wants me to go to some ivy league college and graduate with honours so that I can step into his footsteps and take over the company. Like, I don’t even know if I want that.”

“I’m sorry, Steve”, Nancy says, laying her head onto his shoulders. She smells like fruity shampoo and fresh laundry. “I know you worked really hard for that exam. And I’m sorry he ruined it for you, because you know, I thought you were doing really well.”

Steve tries a smile, but it doesn’t really work. “Thanks, Nance.” He sighs. “I got really angry at him and started screaming at him that he doesn’t care, and he told me he didn’t have time for problems.”

“He’s an ass”, Nancy lifts her head, staring at Steve with wide eyes.

“Told you, my dad’s a grade A asshole”, he laughs, even though they both know it’s not funny. “It was an idiotic fight, but it hurt, somehow. I drove off after, and I didn’t know where to go but I didn’t want to go home, so I came here. I hope that’s okay.”

“Of course, Steve”, Nancy says. “That’s what a relationship is about, right? Being able to talk to each other.”

“Yeah, yeah, I guess”, Steve runs his hand through his hair. Was it a lie when he didn’t tell her the complete truth? “Before you, my relationships weren’t really like that. We just made out and went on dates and it was fun and all, but I couldn’t tell them stuff. Like, I never would’ve fought a monster with anybody else.”

“Yeah, that’s… that was something.” Nancy grabs for his hand, intertwining their fingers. They don’t talk about the monster often. They talk about Barb and about Nancy missing her and once after a dinner with Barb’s parents she cried into his shoulder about how unfair everything was. Steve had tried to make her feel better, had told her that it’d be okay, that it was all over now, but he’s not sure if it had worked. So usually, they try to keep to the actual topics and avoid too much monster-talk. “I’m glad you trust me, Steve”, Nancy whispers, once again laying her head on his shoulder.

Steve swallows. He wants to tell her everything, the whole truth, not about some idiotic fight about grades that Steve had worked hard for and unrealistic college expectations. He wants to tell her that his father had slapped him and thought he was a disappointment. He can’t, he’s well aware, but that doesn’t change his feelings. It feels shit to lie to Nancy, to keep this from her. It feels shit to be an omega, and it feels even worse to have nobody who understands.

“Course, Nance. I hope you trust me, too”, he answers, voice low. He can feel her nodding. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

They sit like that for a bit, leaning onto each other and holding their hands tightly, like they’d break apart if they let go. Steve wants to cry again.

“What do you want to do, now? About your father, I mean”, Nancy asks into the silence.

“I don’t know”, Steve shrugs, looking up to her ceiling. “I’ll avoid him until they leave for their next business trip on Saturday, and then I’ll avoid them when they come back, which is only for like two days anyways. Not like I can do much about it except try harder in school, right?”

“Probably”, she answers. “Do you even want to do what he has planned for you?”

“I don’t know”, Steve shrugs again.

When he had thought of his future, he’d always kind of guessed he’d end up taking over the company somehow, though he had never particularly wanted it. But what he actually wanted? He had once wanted to become a basketball star, but he was well aware that he wasn’t good enough for that. After that, he had simply wanted to have fun. And now, he couldn’t think of anything. Maybe he just wanted something to want.

“I had always thought I’d get in somewhere with a basketball scholarship, but I never particularly thought about what I’d actually do. I guess I’ll probably take the company over, some day. If dad happens to be home that day.” It’s a shit joke, and neither of them laugh. Steve looks over to Nancy. “What do you want to do?”

“I’m not sure yet. I want to go to college, maybe for literature or English or something similar.”

“I can see you there, you know, writing and reading all day. And you certainly have the talent for it. I much prefer reading your work than the books for class”, he leans over, giving her a kiss on the forehead.

“Oh, come on. You have to read To Kill a Mockingbird for your course, and that’s a great book”, she grins up to him.

“Well, I’m sure it’d be better if you had written it”, Steve says easily.

Nancy rolls her eyes, but lets him kiss her anyways. “You’re such a flatterer”, she whispers, cupping his head before kissing him again. Their lips move against each other softly, warm and innocent. When he pulls away, she’s smiling up to him, and he feels so much better than half an hour ago.

“Could I maybe stay over tonight?”, Steve asks, carefully. “I don’t really want to go home.”

“Yeah, fine”, Nancy pushes the loose strands of her hair behind her ears. “But you’ve got to climb out tomorrow morning, my mom can’t see you here.”

Steve nods while Nancy gets up to give him one of her oversized t-shirts and a pair of sweatpants he had left here when he spent the night last time. “Course. You’ll sneak me some of your breakfast, right?”, he asks.

“You’re lucky you’re pretty”, she mumbles, letting the clothes fall onto the bed in front of him. He can’t help but smile at the compliment. “Yeah, I will.”

Steve quickly changes into the clothes while Nancy shuts the window and pulls the curtain close. The street light still lets in some light, but Steve’s fine with that. He prefers a small light after the whole monster thing.

They end up cuddled closely against each other, Steve can feel Nancy’s warm breath on his neck. It’s comforting, he loves feeling her close to him. Because then he’s not alone, but also because it reminds him of the small nest he had built at the beginning of the year. With Nancy close to him like this, he can almost imagine that nest with her in it.

“Good night, Steve”, she whispers and yawns.

“Sweet dreams, Nance”, he mumbles, almost asleep already. It’s unusually easy. But sleeping next to Nancy is always easy, because it’s one of the rare moments where Steve feels safe.

July 15, 1984.

Steve lies on his bed and stares at the ceiling. There’s nothing to stare at, really. It’s white wooden panels, arranged perfectly in order, with not even a water stain anywhere. Steve blinks.

It’s a Friday evening and he’s alone in his room with nowhere to go. Nancy is out with a friend of hers, Allie, to watch movies and make pizza together. He hopes they’re having more fun than he is having.

Steve had thought about attending a party he was invited to. He could still go there, it was only ten, but he didn’t really want to. It was always the same, anyways. Someone would hit on him thinking he’d cheat, Tommy would act like they were friends while making underlying, hurtful comments about him being just as much of princess as Nancy was, and he’d drink just enough to end up with a headache the next day, so that’d be able to ignore and laugh about everybody else.

He's not sure if lying around here by himself is a much better choice though. The music he had turned on is just a bit too loud to concentrate on anything but not loud enough to forget. He’s still thinking about things he doesn’t really want to think about. Like how his father has now started pressuring him to get better grades and how his mother never really does anything and how Nancy doesn’t really like going on dates. How the monster could climb out of his wall at any moment. How Steve’s been an omega for a year now.

It still felt a bit unreal, sometimes. He doesn’t know what to do with it. Steve Harrington is actually an omega. It’s real, he knows, he has to accept it at some point. After all, he had built the nest on new year’s eve. And then he had asked his father if he could have a heat in that fight a few weeks ago. Even if he had known that it wouldn’t happen, his father would never allow it, it made it feel realer.

Steve knows he is an omega, and he is… he doesn’t like it, but he is fine with it. He had presented as one and there was nothing to change about that now. He would keep it hidden and then it would be okay.

He looks at the calendar on the wall. His parents won’t be back until Tuesday, they were travelling on the west coast, something about summer holidays and his mother wanting to go to Los Angeles. That were three more days alone, with nobody else in the house.

Steve knows he shouldn’t, but he’s still mad at his father and he also kind of … wants. If he’s an omega, he deserves to smell that every once in a while, right? Smell and feel and know. So, he sits up, hand reaching for the back of his neck and carefully peeling off the scent patch. It hurts slightly, his scent gland is still sensitive from having the patches cover it constantly. Taking it off feels like taking a fresh breath.

Really, he’s not sure what he had expected to happen, but it was more. Except for the cool feeling on his neck, nothing happens. The music’s still playing, the summer night is still way too warm, the world’s still turning.

“Bullshit”, Steve mumbles to himself, turning on the soft mattress. Only when he presses his face into the pillow he had just been lying on does he smell hints of his sweet vanilla scent. It’s barely there, but it’s something, at least. He kind of likes it.

Like this, when he could smell himself, when there wasn’t a band aid covering the back of his neck, it feels actually real. Steve is an omega. He would maybe go into heat one day, if his father would ever allow it or if he happened to move out and run away and not look back earlier. And maybe he would have a real nest, one that he wouldn’t have to clean up after a single night. It felt weird to think about all these possibilities, but Steve would lie if he said he hated them.

For the first time, he wonders what it would be like to be an omega. An actual omega, not one hidden under thick scent blocking patches.

He watches the last sunrays disappear behind the trees through his window. He doesn’t like the night, not usually, but like this it doesn’t feel as scary. His scent spreading makes his room feel more like himself, like he’s actually living here, and with that comes a feeling of safety. Not completely safe, because he can’t help but wonder what would happen if his father burst inside and noticed that he was going against what he had been told, but at least less likely to become another crime scene following a monster attack.

Steve’s hand moves to his scent gland, feeling around the edges. It’s sensitive, makes something tingle between his legs, something that he usually tries to ignore.

Today, he decides he doesn’t want too.

He’s wearing loose sweatpants, so it’s relatively easy to let his hands slip under the waistband. He doesn’t touch himself right away, because what he’s thinking about doing still makes his heart beat faster. He barely masturbates anymore anyways, mainly because Nancy and him do have sex often enough to satisfy any needs he might have, but also because he doesn’t like it when he only has himself to fill the silence while jerking off. It gives him too much room to think, to fantasize, about things that he had always classified as being omega-like and not for him.

Still, it feels good where his cold fingers rest on his thighs. Steve can feel himself getting wet, and it’s unusual to let himself feel it for once. Usually, he tries to bury the feeling somewhere in the back of his mind and focus on Nancy in front of him. But Nancy’s not here, and he wants to know what it’s like to touch himself like this.

Steve shiver’s when his right-hand dips beneath the cotton of his boxershorts while the left is clutching the waistband of his sweatpants. He’s wet and slick, undeniably so, and wraps his hand around his cock first, stroking himself a few times. It feels good, obviously, but it’s not what he had wanted to do, not really.

So, with his eyes pressed shut, he lets go of himself and dips his fingers lower.

He touches his clit first, and a shiver runs over him. It’s sensitive, more so than his cock, and feels good but also entirely different than what he’s used to. He touches it again, with just a bit more confidence. With his lips parted, breathing heavy, he rubs himself, up and down, in circles, in an attempt to figure out what feels best. It’s good, great, either way. New and exciting.

What would it feel like if someone else was touching him like this? Would it feel better, make his breath hitch even more, make his legs tremble? And then Nancy is there, leaning over him, smiling like she does when she knows she’s got the right answer to a question nobody else can answer, like she does when she knows she’s riling him up by wearing that blue bra that makes her look even more beautiful.

“Nancy”, the word slips out of his mouth when he rubs himself harder, breathy and winy in a way he had never heard himself sound before.

“Steve”, Nancy might say, blink down at him and flick his clit again. His fingers are too big and rough to feel like hers, but he tries to imagine it anyways. “So desperate”, Nancy whispers, and he can only nod. Yes, he is so, so desperate. So, he dips his middle finger lower, because Nancy’s right, he’s desperate and he wants more.

Slick coats his finger, thick and wet, and he slips the finger inside. The sensation is unusual but not unwelcome. It hurts a bit, just slightly, because he’s never had anything inside him before and he’s tight. It doesn’t feel as good as touching his clit at first, just like there’s, well, a finger inside of him.

But Steve had been with enough girls to know that it could feel good, so he should be able to feel good, too.

“Touch yourself”, Nancy leaves wet kisses all over his neck in his imagination. “Be a good omega.”

He tries to move his finger up and down, the slick makes it easier, and when he curls his fingers slightly he hits a spot that makes him gasp, makes him blink up at the ceiling with his eyes blown wide open. He adds a second finger, the fit is tighter, but he makes it work somehow. When he manages to hit the spot again, it’s even better.

His palm presses against his skin as he tries to do it harsher, deeper, add more pressure. “Please”, Steve begs to nobody. “Please, oh god…” He curls his fingers, searches for that sensation again.

“I bet you wish that was me”, Nancy says in his mind. “Do you want me to touch you like that? Do you want me to fuck you like that, omega?”

“Yes, Nancy, please, please”, he begs for her, choking back tears.

He fucks himself on his fingers, not being able to think of anything else than Nancy Wheeler knuckle deep inside of him. Nancy leaning over him, whispering in his ears how good he was, how he listened to her so well, like an omega should. Nancy leaving hickeys all over him, up from his neck down to his thighs. Nancy calling him pretty and sweet and her omega. Nancy licking stripes over his scent gland until his whole body is shivering and he can’t do anything except beg her for more.

“Fuck me”, he says out loud.

“Is that what you want, for me to fuck your pretty little pussy? Knot you and never let you go?” He knows that isn’t possible, Nancy isn’t even an alpha, she doesn’t have a cock or a knot, but it feels so perfect to him. Nancy taking him, coming deep inside of him and keeping him locked tight to her.

Steve rolls his hips again, hitting that sweet spot right on now. There is a warm pressure building in his stomach, which makes his whole body shiver and his toes curl. It’s familiar somehow, but also so different, so much more intense than any orgasm he’s had before. He increases his pace, trying to chase his fingers with his hips. His thumb flicks his clit, a bit clumsy, but just enough to push him right to the edge.

“Cum for me”, Nancy whispers. “Be a good omega.”

“Nancy, fuck!”, Steve exclaims, his left hand clenching onto the waistband of his sweatpants. His hips buck up one last time as he cums all over his fingers. It shakes through his whole body, a completely new sensation.

Then he’s gasping, unable to do much more than stare up at the ceiling and blink. He feels spent and is probably sweaty all over. The vanilla scent he’s now practically covered in smells sweeter than before, almost nauseatingly so.

His fingers slide out of himself. He’s soaked up to his wrist, and it makes him blush as he wipes it off on his pants. They’ll have to be thrown in the washing machine anyways. Still, it feels dirty to look at the dark spots on the light grey fabric.

It’s just a fantasy, obviously. As much as he wants Nancy this way, she can’t find out. And even if she would, there’s no guarantee she’d want and treat him like this. But that doesn’t stop his imagination nor the satisfied omega scent that’s filling up the entire room. 

September 8, 1984.

Saturday nights meant sleepovers at Nancy’s. They’d eat dinner with Nancy’s parents, Steve would kiss her goodbye, drive his car to the parking lot down the street and climb back in through Nancy’s window. It worked wonderfully, every weekend, it was something he found himself looking forward too.

For one, because he didn’t have to sleep alone. Sleeping next to Nancy made it easier. She held his hands usually, her feet lying in between his legs because she always complained about being cold and he ran hot. That way, he knew that someone was there, and he wouldn’t end up dying alone with nobody finding him for days because his parents weren’t home to check up on him.

He also enjoyed it because every Sunday morning, without fail, Karen made the most amazing pancakes, light and fluffy and topped with fresh fruit. Nancy would go downstairs, grab a big plate of them and they’d eat together, sitting on Nancy’s carpet and listening to music. Sometimes, she read him passages of whatever essay or story she was working on right now.

It is by far Steve’s favourite part of the week.

Right now, he is lying on her bed, hugging one of the soft pillows placed on it. It smelled like Nancy and a bit like the laundry detergent they used in the Wheeler household. Nancy herself was sitting on the carpet in front of her bed, scribbling stuff into the notebook Steve had bought her for her birthday a few weeks ago. In the background some sort of soft pop music plays.

“What are you writing?”, he asks.

“You’re noisy”, she says and doesn’t look up from the pages.

“I gave it to you!”, he complains, though she can probably see the smile on his face out of the corners of her eyes. She smiles, too. Steve wants to get closer so that he can kiss her, but he doesn’t really want to get up. Nancy’s bed is so much nicer than his, he could probably stay here forever.

“As a gift”, Nancy answers, but puts the pen aside anyways. “It’s kind of like a diary, I guess. Just little notes about every day, so that I can remember what was nice and what wasn’t and remember it if there’s anything I want to do.”

“You do that every day?”, he asks, raising an eyebrow. Nancy nods. “I wanted to start a diary once because I saw it on TV, but I could barely make it four days before forgetting about it.”

She chuckles. “Why do you think I asked you for three notebooks and not just one?”

“I don’t know”, Steve answers, honestly. “I was just happy to get you something you liked.”

“You also got me the biggest bouquet I’ve ever seen and that dress I told you was cute in like, May.”

“I like gift giving”, he replies, blinking up at Nancy. “It’s something that makes people happy and I have more than enough money for it. Better to make use of it to see you smile.”

Nancy smiles at him, going back to writing into her notebook. “I know. You got Jonathan that crazy expensive camera, even though you two barely like each other.”

Steve looks away. “I… don’t dislike Jonathan. I mean, we’re not friends, but I still kind of like him”, he says slowly. It’s a bit weird to hear himself say those words. It sounds unlike him, somehow. “He’s cool. Well, I didn’t know that like a year ago, but now I do. He has good music taste, he’s really cool for caring for his brother like that and his pictures are great, too. I think he could really end up doing something with them, you know? I don’t know too much about that artsy stuff, but I’m pretty sure Jonathan could get a degree in photography or something like that.”

Nancy sets her notebook to the side and stands up. She walks over to Steve, motioning him to make room, and he moves back to the side of the bed he had claimed as his when they first started sleeping over at her place. “Why don’t you befriend him?”, she asks after lying down next to him, pulling her blanket over her legs. Like this, Steve can see right into her light brown eyes following his every move.

“I don’t think he likes me much. Which, I know, is my fault, obviously. And I don’t blame him, I wouldn’t want to hang out with anyone who had hurt me before.”

“I think you two would get along well”, Nancy says. “But maybe it’s too early for that. Maybe he needs some more time.”

“Maybe”, he whispers. “Do you two still hang out much?” Steve knows they’re friends, at least kind of. He doesn’t mind it, Nancy can hang out with whoever she wants to hang out with, though sometimes he wishes Jonathan would want to hang out with him to. He always tries to say hello and make some small talk when he meets the other guy, but Jonathan’s answers are usually shortcut and uninterested, so Steve had started to accept his fate. Ever since that one conversation in the cafeteria half a year ago, they had barely exchanged more than fifty words, if anybody was counting.

“Sometimes more, sometimes less”, Nancy answers easily. “It’s getting closer and closer to the day Will went missing, and I feel like he’s even more reserved than usual. I try to get him to do things, but I’m not sure if he really wants to do anything at all and I’m just not very good at motivating people. That’s your thing.”

“That’s good”, Steve says, reaching for her hand. It’s cold against his, like usual. “That you’re trying, I mean. And thanks for the compliment, I guess.”

She smiles at him, intertwining their fingers. Her fingernails are painted in a light blue, just like the nail on Steve’s pinkie finger. It was their activity last weekend. They’ll do a new colour next week. “I’m serious, Steve. You’re like, really good at making people feel important. You always talk about my writing like it’s some sort of New York Times bestseller, even if it’s just some weird poem that I made while I was bored in class. And you do the same when Holly asks if you like her paintings.”

“I try my best”, Steve says. He can’t remember the last time he’s gotten a compliment like this. He’s called good looking or hot often, and his teammates always tell him when he’s done a good shot, but that doesn’t mean much. This is real, realer, this is Nancy noticing something about him. And he likes that she does, but he likes it even more that Nancy thinks he’s good at something.

“I just wanted to say”, Nancy continues. “Thank you. For always saying it when you like something and helping the others. I think you’re becoming a really good person.”

Steve loosens one hand from the pillow to wipe his eyes. “Thanks, Nance”, his voice is quieter than usual. “I really want to be one. A good person, I mean. I did a lot of bullshit.”

“You are, Steve”, she says and scoots closer, giving him a kiss. It’s careful, because both of them lying on the bed and holding onto either the blanket or a pillow isn’t really the most convenient position.

He smiles at her, reaching out with the hand that’s not holding hers to run it through her hair. She cut it short just a week ago and he’s still not quite used to it, but it looks good on her. She always looks good anyways.

“Can I tell you something?”, she asks, big brown eyes blinking at him.

“Yeah, yeah, sure”, he answers, easily. That’s what they’re here for. Just like he had told her that his father was an asshole, she could tell him anything that was bothering, hurting her. “Always. You don’t even have to ask.”

“Sometimes…”, she starts, but it seems to be hard to get the words out. “Sometimes I feel like we… like we…”  It feels like she stares right through him for a moment. “I was just thinking about Barb, and sometimes I think…”, she trails of again.

“Take your time”, Steve says in an attempt to help.

But Nancy stops, anyways, looking away. “I’m sorry”, she whispers. “I don’t think I can say it right now. It’s like the words are stuck in my throat, you know?”

“No trouble, Nance”, he answers and yawns. “You can tell me when you’re ready.”

She nods, moving closer to him, until they can wrap their arms around one another. It’s warm and safe, so unlike anything that had happened the days when Barb died and Will went missing. “I just miss her. A lot. And sometimes I wonder if it could’ve gone differently.”

“I wish it would’ve”, he says.

Nancy nods, and Steve kisses her on the forehead.

October 31, 1984.

School had never been one of Steve’s talents. His grades had always been mediocre or less and nobody had ever really cared for them. At some point, Steve had stopped caring about school in general. It wasn’t any fun, more of a chore, and he had begun to avoid working more than needed for a passing grade. The rather new development of his father pressuring him about GPA’s, early admission and ivy league colleges didn’t help his motivation in the slightest.

Nancy helped a bit. She liked studying for some weird reason Steve didn’t understand, and she was always open to looking at his essays and helping him make flashcards. His grades were better now, but not by much, and Steve knew from Nancy’s facial expressions that the essay drafts he had showed her over the last few weeks were kind of shit.

It was unfair, really. He was trying, he was working, and he was still fucking it up.

That didn’t matter, though, not really, because his father didn’t care if he was trying, he cared if Steve was accepted to some idiotic college he didn’t want to go to. So, here he is, sitting in the school library next to Nancy and attempting to rework his essay. Yesterday evening he had already redone the introduction, Nancy had luckily made a few notes for him on the side of the page. He looks over to her, chewing on the end of her pencil without even noticing that she’s doing it, while working on some math problem. He doesn’t understand how school and learning come so easy to her.

Steve sighs and tries to focus on the task in front of him again, but nothing really works today. He’s too busy thinking and worrying.

After yesterday’s dinner with Barb’s parents, Nancy had been looking like a kicked puppy all morning, and none of Steve’s attempts to cheer her up were working. Also, his chemistry test had resulted in a B, but in the English exam he was stuck with a C. And his parents had been at home for a while and would only leave on the weekend, which made anything at home dreadful.

Steve wipes his eyes, blinking at the paper lying on the table in front of him, and tries his best to fix the mistakes Nancy had marked for him. The essay still didn’t sound great, but better, hopefully. It might help if he actually wanted to go to that college, or to any college for that matter, but he didn’t. It was as simple as that.

Next to him, Nancy sighs and gets up. Steve watches her walk over to the pencil sharpener. He looks back at the paper in front of him. He had written five sentence in the forty-five minutes they had spent in the library already. A new low.

The sun is shining through the blinds of the window, Nancy’s still standing by the sharpener, turning it again and again while staring into nothingness. Steve stands up and walks over to her. She doesn’t notice, and now he can see what, or rather who, she’s staring at. He follows her gaze to a red headed girl taking one of the books of the shelves.

Oh. So this was still about Barb.

Steve grabs her shoulder, which makes Nancy finally look at him. “Nancy? What’s going on?”, he asks. “Are you okay?”

He knew the answer to that already, but it felt right to ask anyways. The girl walks by them and Nancy looks after her, wiping one of her eyes. “Not really”, she whispers, finally taking her pencil out of the sharpener. It’s half its original size now.

“You want to talk about it?”, he asks, quietly. Nancy nods, and he pulls her after him into the small copy room. It’s cramped and kind of stinks, he doesn’t even want to imagine the kind of things people have already got up to in here, but it has a door that closes and nobody will be able to hear them.

After Steve closes the door behind them, he turns around. Nancy looks just as miserable as she had yesterday when he had driven her home after the dinner.

“I can’t keep doing this”, Nancy says.

“Doing what?”, Steve asks.

“Pretending like everything’s okay”, she answers, and while he can understand that she’s upset about Barb and about the whole upside-down thing and the fact that Barb’s parents are selling their house, that he doesn’t understand. What else were they supposed to do, really? What else was he supposed to do?

“What are you talking about?”

“Barbara”, she specifies, rubbing her temples and sighing. “It’s like everyone forgot, it’s like nobody cares. Except her parents, and now they’re selling their house and-”

“Nance”, he starts.

“And they’re going to spend the rest of their lives looking for her”, Nancy finishes her sentence.

“I know, I know”, he tries to comfort her, even if he doesn’t really know how. Pretending that everything’s okay is what they’ve always been doing. That’s what everyone is doing. It’s what he was doing with Tommy and Carol and with his parents and now with Nancy as well.

“It’s destroying them!”

“I know, okay? I get it. But listen, there’s nothing we can do about it.” She has to understand that, right? He doesn’t see any way at all where he wouldn’t have to pretend.

“Yeah, we could tell them the truth”, Nancy says, like it’s easy.

It isn’t, Steve wants to yell. There’s nothing easy about the truth. People are always talking about it, Nancy’s brother and his friends are apparently really big on it, on being truthful and never lying. Steve can’t see a life where he isn’t lying. He has never known a life without lies. His mother is lying about being happy, his father is lying about not cheating on her, he is lying about the monsters and his second gender and if he really thinks about it, he has probably lied about a lot more stuff. His parents have too, he thinks. Hell, Nancy’s probably lying about something, too.

“Well, you know that we can’t do that”, is all he says, though.

“We don’t have to tell them everything”, she tries, looking to the ground.

“This isn’t some game, Nance. If they found out we told any-“, Steve looks out the window into the library. The blinds are down, but not closed, and it makes him nervous. He walks the few steps over and closes them. Even though it doesn’t change anything about people hearing them, it feels a bit safer.

He looks back at Nancy. “They could put us in jail. Okay? Or worse, they could destroy our families. They could do anything they want. Just think about what you’re saying.” Sometimes, he wishes that there were no lies as well.

Nancy looks obviously unhappy with what he’s telling her. Steve sighs, sitting down on the table and reaching out for her. She’s still not looking, so he only touches her arm, holding it softly. “Hey, hey, hey, it’s…”, he sighs. Nancy smiles at him, the sadness written all over her face.

“It’s hard, I know”, Steve tries. “But let’s… let’s just go to Tina’s stupid party, wear our stupid costumes that we have been working on for a stupid amount of time and just pretend like we’re stupid teenagers, okay? Can we just do that, just for tonight?” He wants to help her, offer her another way out, but he doesn’t see one.

“Okay”, Nancy whispers, nodding slowly. She’s still looking away, staring at the ground and blinking in an attempt not to cry.

Steve pulls her closer, carefully. “Come here”, he mumbles, and she lets him hold her tightly.  

They drive home soon after, neither of them being able to really concentrate on their work. Nancy’s watching the town pass by, she’s quiet, and Steve doesn’t really know how to make it better. Instead, he tries to get her mood up while they get themselves ready at her house, but it doesn’t seem to make it much better.

Karen tells them to join them for dinner, so they each eat a small portion of pasta. Steve isn’t really hungry, and with the way Nancy pokes around on her plate she doesn’t seem to be either. Still, he likes Karen and the food is good, so he finishes it and tells her what a good job she did, she should show him the recipe sometimes.

They leave for the party soon after. Steve parks in the next street, it’s busy already. He wonders how the neighbours aren’t reporting this, but maybe they’re not as stuck up as in Loch Nora on this side of the town.

Inside, someone hands him a cup of beer and he greets a few guys from the basketball team. Nancy follows him as they take a look through the house. She looks a bit lost, which is unusual, because any other party they have been to, Nancy had been fun and smiley and greeting people she knew from whatever advanced course she was taking right now.

It looks like half of the damn town is at Tina’s party, that’s how crowded it is. They had ended up standing at the side of what seems to be a living room, though today it looks like something between a dancefloor and hell. The music is too loud and Nancy still looks unhappy next to him, like she has the whole afternoon. Steve doesn’t know how to make her feel better, and he tries not to be bothered by it too much. Just get through the night, try to make Nancy happy, and then it would be fine-

Steve sees Tommy and that new guy, tall and handsome and with a so overpowering alpha scent that seems to cover every room he steps into, walk into the room. He’s pretty sure the guy is doing it on purpose. Suddenly, Steve is very happy about all the people around him, because like this it’s at least bearable.

Billy, he’s pretty sure that’s his name- though, who is Steve lying too? Everybody knows the new guy’s name, he had immediately gotten a reputation. Billy stands in front of him, cigarette between his lips. Tommy’s just a steps behind him. “We got ourselves a new keg king, Harrington!”, Tommy grins at him.

“Yeah, that’s right!”, someone yells. “Eat it, Harrington!”, another guy grins brightly.

Steve takes of his sunglasses, staring at Billy. He wishes he wouldn’t care, but he does, somehow. Nancy, however, does not. She just sighs at the sight of the guys he would’ve once referred to as friends and walks away towards the bar. Steve looks after her, while Billy doesn’t take a single step back. It’s crowding and uncomfortable, worse than all the people he had already bumped into tonight.

“Well, Harrington? Want to get back your record?”, Billy grins at him.

Nancy’s right, though. He shouldn’t care, and so he just shakes his head. “Piss off, Hargrove”, he answers, following Nancy through the crowd. He’s pretty sure Billy yells something after him, but the words get lost between music and everybody talking. The scent doesn’t, the cinnamon fills Steve’s nose until it feels spicy.

He finds Nancy rather easily, standing behind the makeshift bar on the kitchen island, swallowing down a cup of punch like its fruit juice. “Hey, whoa, whoa”, he tries to pull her towards him, but she doesn’t even seem to hear him. Or maybe she doesn’t want to. “Hey, whoa, whoa! Take it easy, Nance, Nance…”

When she finally looks at him, she doesn’t even look miserable anymore, just… mad. “We’re just being stupid teenagers for the night. Wasn’t that the deal?”, she asks, like it’s a bad thing he said that. Is it? He just wanted to make her feel better, get her mind off of everything else.

There’s nothing that Steve can do while Nancy finishes the cup of punch, some of the red liquid drops down onto her cheeks. She wipes it off easily, her eyes never leaving him as she puts the cup down and disappears into the crowd.

Now, the party really feels like it had been a bad idea. Why had he ever liked parties? They were loud and stank and with Billy and Tommy bothering him and Nancy mad at him, he wasn’t sure what to do. Shit, they shouldn’t have gone. They would probably be better off trick or treating with Nancy’s little brother.

Steve doesn’t say that, though, because it’s not like it would change anything. Instead, he follows Nancy onto the dancefloor. If she wants to get drunk, fine. He’ll just try to make sure she doesn’t get wasted too badly and pretend to have fun while doing that. He’s good at pretending, anyways.

The more punch Nancy drinks, the more she gets into what would probably be called party spirit. She’s laughing again, smiling again, not looking like she wants to just curl up in her bed. But the more she drinks, the more she slurs her words when she yells jokes that really aren’t that funny into his ear.

It’s a bit weird to see Nancy drunk, because while they went to the occasional party together, neither of them had gotten particularly drunk at any of those. But like this, with Nancy just short off wasted while Steve has barely had half a cup of beer, he can’t help but think that he doesn’t really like it when she gets drunk. Especially the way she seemed to be craving more and more punch. What was this, now? Her fifth cup?

Steve’s trying to enjoy the party, or at least look like he is doing so, moving along to the music. With every step, the sunglasses on his nose move. In front of him, Nancy is twirling on the spot. Her smile looks like she’s having the time of her life, but she stumbles so often that Steve can’t help but wonder if she’ll fall over.

“I’ll get some punch”, she says after finding her balance again, walking through the crowd back towards the bowl on the counter.

Steve sighs, following his stumbling girlfriend. He doesn’t want to act like an asshole and tell her “you can’t do that”, but he doesn’t think anymore alcohol is good for her. And also, he doesn’t think he can stand her with anymore off that in her system.

“No, no, no”, he says, trying to grab the cup from her.

“Get off”, Nancy’s pulls away from him.

“No, you’ve had enough, okay?”, he asks, but it’s not really a question as he tries to get her to walk away from that dumb punch.

“Screw you!”, Nancy yells, her words still slurred. She doesn’t listen, of course she doesn’t. Usually, this is a quality Steve loves about her, but now he doesn’t want to do anything more than drive home. Nancy, though, fills her cup with punch once more. Steve doesn’t think he’ll ever drink punch again. This is night is going shit, really, and he has the sneaking feeling that it’ll only get worse.

Still, he has to try, at least. This is Nancy, he loves Nancy, he can’t just leave her alone here. Even if she can’t stop drinking and is mad at him. “Nance, I’m serious”, Steve tries. “Hey, hey, hey, stop. No, I’m serious!” He tries to take the cup from her, but she’s surprisingly strong. “Put it down.”

“No!”

“Nance, put it down”, he says again.

“Steve! Stop”, Nancy looks at him angrily, almost glaring. He wants to go home, he wants the non-drunk Nancy back.

“Stop, stop”, he tries to take the cup, but Nancy is quicker, pulling it towards her. It tilts, and suddenly her white shirt is covered in the red liquid. Around them, everyone goes quiet. Steve tries to take a deep breath, staring at the stain. This really was a shit day.

“What the hell?”, Nancy asks, before moving towards the bathroom.

“Nance!” Steve follows her, even though he doesn’t really want too.

The bathroom is empty, luckily. Steve sees the curious eyes of people looking after them, so he closes the door while Nancy wets a cloth and wipes it messily over the big, pink stain on her shirt. He doubts that’ll help.

“I’m sorry”, he starts. She doesn’t answer, only continues wiping. “That’s not coming off, Nance”, Steve says.

“It’s coming”, she grumbles.

Steve sighs, breathing. “Come on. Let me just take you home, okay? Come here”, he wants to go home. He can’t stand another moment off this shit evening. Nancy, though, doesn’t budge. “Let me take you home. Come on.”

“You wanted this”, Nancy says. She’s right, of course. He’s already regretting his earlier decision. But he hadn’t expected this, a drunk-out-of-her-mind-Nancy. Hadn’t wanted it, either.

“No, I didn’t want this. I told you to stop drinking”, he mumbles, mainly to himself.

“It’s bullshit”, Nancy says, loudly. “Bull-shit.

“No, it’s not bullshit. Okay? It’s not, Nancy.”

“No, you”, she says. “You’re bullshit.”

It makes him stop in his tracks. “What?” What is she talking about? How is he “bullshit”?

“You’re pretending like everything is okay. You know like we didn’t… like we didn’t kill Barb. Like, it’s great. Like, we’re in love and we’re partying.”

Steve doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t understand, because what is Nancy talking about? They’re not murderers, they just… they were just idiots, but how were they supposed to know about an evil monster lurking in Hawkins. And they were in love, right?

“Yeah, let’s party, huh? Party! We’re partying”, Nancy looks at him, eyes wide open. “This is bullshit.”

They were in love, right? Right?

“Like we’re in love?”, Steve asks, voice breaking. She doesn’t notice, just as she doesn’t notice him shivering when he moves to cup her cheek, because she’s drunk as shit and apparently everything is bullshit.

“It’s bullshit.”

“You don’t love me?”, he asks, because he can’t quite believe it. It seems so impossible. They had been dating for so long, they had said I love you to each other, they had just said it yesterday. And now they were murderers and not in love.

“It’s bullshit”, Nancy repeats.

Steve doesn’t know what to say. There are no words left in him anymore. Just the bullshit, bullshit, bullshit. It’s all bullshit. He’s bullshit, they’re bullshit. Their relationship is bullshit. He turns, leaving the bathroom with a newfound sense of urgency. He doesn’t want to leave Nancy there, drunk and alone, but he can’t stand to be in here a second longer. Also, there are tears gathering in his eyes, and the last thing he needs is everybody seeing him cry. He had already ruined his reputation enough.

While walking out, he catches a glimpse of Jonathan, talking to some girl with thick eyeliner and her face painted entirely wait. He feels Jonathan watching him as he scrambles to put on the sunglasses again, feels his gaze follow him as Steve storms out of Tina’s house. Tommy yells something after him, he’s standing by the front door smoking, but Steve isn’t in the right mind to listen. He needs to get away from here, from everyone.

The walk to his car seems entirely too long, he wishes he had parked closer. He can barely see the street in front of him, with sunglasses on and teary eyes it’s all blurred. He can’t bring himself to take them off while he’s still walking though, worried that someone will see him and he’ll humiliate himself even more than he already did tonight.

When he had thought this night wasn’t going well earlier, this wasn’t what he had expected. He had expected to drive home a drunk, mad Nancy later and go home alone to hopefully avoid his parents while wondering what he had done wrong, not that Nancy would tell him she wasn’t in love with him.

Steve finally reaches his car and scrambles to open the door with shaking hands. He can feel tears run down his cheeks and tries to wipe them off with his sleeves, but the residue stays, sticky and wet. It doesn’t matter though, because new tears immediately follow.

He manages to open the car door and slips inside, pulling his feet up onto the seat so that he can curl up on himself. For once, he doesn’t care about dirtying the fabric, too busy with the chocked-up sobs leaving his throat. The sunglasses end up thrown somewhere on the back seat. Steve can’t stop trying, and hidden inside his car, he doesn’t try to anymore.

“It’s bullshit” won’t stop reverberating in his head. Nancy’s slurred words and her big brown eyes staring up at him as she says “we killed Barb” and “like we’re in love” is playing over and over like a broken videotape, and Steve doesn’t find the button to turn the TV off.

How long had she felt this way? Had she ever really loved him? Was this a recent development or had every single “I love you” been a lie? Steve sobs again, and it sounds ugly and horrid. He can barely breathe through all the tears, and every single inhalation hurts. Had Nancy lied about other things, too? If she thought they killed Barb, did that mean she thought they were murderers? Had she lied when she had called him a good person?

Suddenly, it really does feel like bullshit. Their whole relationship feels like a big, fat lie. Steve doesn’t know what to do with himself like that. Maybe he’s still a bad person, a bully, an asshole, and apparently a murderer too. He had thought before that maybe, if they had acted just a bit differently that night, they could’ve changed the course of it. But he had never considered them murderers, because while they had been assholes for leaving Barbara alone like that, it wasn’t their fault that she had been eaten by an interdimensional monster, right? Right? He hadn’t known, and he had been an asshole in different ways that night, but he wasn’t a murderer. He couldn’t stand the thought of being a murderer, he could barely stand the thought of being a bully again. 

Steve had wanted to change and to be better, but right now, he feels worse than ever before. He wishes he could pull of his scent patch, because it usually made him feel just a little bit better if he could smell himself. And he wants a nest, something soft and comfortable and safe. He doesn’t want this.

He wants Nancy back and he wants her to say “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that, of course I love you”. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to believe that. Maybe she’ll just be pretending again.

Fuck her and her “let’s stop pretending like everything’s okay”.

Nothing was okay, but Steve didn’t know how to stop pretending in front of others. He had barely been able to stop pretending in front of himself. He had only accepted that he was an omega and that that wasn’t completely horrible a few months ago, and he still couldn’t really be one, because his father might notice.

His body shakes through more tears and sobs, but at some point, it just stops. He can’t cry anymore, his eyes hurt and it feels like his eyes are dried out, and all energy has left him. Instead, he just stares out of the windscreen onto the dark street and tries to keep Nancy out of his thoughts. It doesn’t work, of course, so he turns on the radio. Nancy’s favourite tape of Cindy Lauper is still playing, and Steve turns it off again.

If he had any more tears left in him, he’d start crying again.

Instead, he turns on the engine and drives home. He doesn’t really want to go home, his parents are there and it holds too many of those horrid memories, like when they killed Barbara, but there’s no other place he could go to. Somehow, he wants to go to Jonathan, maybe because Jonathan is the only person his age who actually knows of the monster. But maybe also because ever since that fight, Steve hadn’t been able to get that stupidly sweet breakfast scent out of his mind. He wants that now, that homey, safe feeling.

But Jonathan was at that party, and hopefully he was with Nancy now, taking her home. Steve knows he shouldn’t have left her there, not with Billy and Tommy and all those other assholes around, but if he can’t even stand thinking about her right now, there’s no way he can be around her after what she had just told him.

The words replay again, and suddenly they killed Barb and were never in love and everything is bullshit.

When he gets home, he walks through the backyard and climbs back inside through his window. He’s scared that his parents are downstairs and he can’t stand the thought of them seeing him like this. When he’s finally lying in his bed, tear stains washed off but eyes still red and hurting, his hand finds the scent patch on the back off his neck. He strokes it carefully, the fabric’s soft and smooth under his fingers. It needs to get off, he needs to know that he’s actually here and himself, but his parent’s bedroom is just across the hall and he can feel his father snoring.

So it stays on, and Steve falls asleep with pillow-muffled sobs shaking through him.

November 2, 1984.

Steve loves Nancy and Nancy loves Steve, except she doesn’t.

All those times she had said “I love you” to him she had been lying. It was all a lie, just like when she had told him he was a good person and good at making people feel important and just good altogether. Nancy Wheeler was a fucking liar.

And with everything he has, Steve wants to hate her for it. He wants to do something idiotic like the teenage girls on TV when their boyfriend is being an asshole, or get himself a new girlfriend to make her jealous. He won’t, of course. Because for some reason, he still loves Nancy. He loves her smile and her hair and her writing and the way she hugged him and all those late nights in her room. He wants her to go, but he wants her back.

Everything that happened the last few days, the party and the bathroom and their breakup replays over and over again in his head. Steve wishes he could put headphones on and shut it out, but there was no way to stop this. “Bullshit”, he whispers, and regrets it the moment after. He pulls the blanket up higher, until he’s practically hidden under it.

Steve has to get up, though. He wishes he could stay home, but his parents were in Hawkins for a few more days and with the way his grades were looking his father would most definitely make sure he went. Just another thing that made the day another bit worse. Somehow, he missed the times when they hadn’t cared. He couldn’t get through anymore talks about early college admissions and grades and whatever essays he was supposed to write.

He pushes his blanket away, rubbing his eyes while getting up. School, basketball, find somewhere to spend the afternoon to avoid his father. He could get through this. Well, he had to, somehow.

Driving to school alone is still something he has to get used too. Before, Nancy had taken a cassette with her every morning that she wanted to listen too. It was always something fun, poppy, energetic. Now, only the radio is playing in the background. It made the day feel even more different.

Was this what breakups were like? Lonely, weird, different? Any breakups he had been through before hadn’t been real, because he hadn’t really loved those girls, he had just loved attention and being admired and having someone to fuck on occasion. Nancy had been different. He had thought he’d spend the rest of his life with her just a few days ago, and now here he was.

At least there was no game on the weekend. He wouldn’t be able to get through that, not with Billy on the team now.

Steve couldn’t stand Billy. He couldn’t stand the way he was so undeniably alpha that he basically commanded all attention to be on him, he couldn’t stand the way he spread his scent so that nobody was safe from it, and he couldn’t stand the way Billy looked at him.

The school day goes by unusually slow. Math, chemistry, history… all subjects blend into one another, and for the first time in a while Steve actually doesn’t understand anything that’s going on. Instead, he scribbles angrily into his notebook, until the paper has holes.

He skips lunch, because he’s not really hungry anyways, and instead sits in his car. In an attempt to do at least something, he sorts through the mess of cassettes he has accumulated in the car, because they are all messily thrown into a bag on the back seat. He doesn’t get far, because most of them hold to many memories he doesn’t want to think about.

Basketball is his last period on Friday. Ever since the new school year started and Tommy had been elected as team captain, Steve had been dreading the sport he used to love once. He used to be the best on the team, in middle school they won the state championship once, but now he’s just kind of pretending to do something and trying not to think about Nancy.

Billy being there doesn’t make it any better. The guy has barely lived in Hawkins a week, and he’s already gotten on Steve’s nerves. He knows Tommy doesn’t really like him either, he can see it in his eyes, because despite everything, he still knows Tommy. Maybe Billy had tried to flirt with Carol, because even though they weren’t together anymore, everybody knew that they still hooked up with each other after getting drunk and hadn’t kissed anyone else. Whatever complicated thing they really have going on, Steve isn’t sure.

He tries not to dwell on it. But today is a day where he misses Tommy and Carol even more so than usual. Or well, he misses having friends.

Instead, he’s stuck in the stinky school gym with alpha pheromones stinking it up even more. His thoughts are somewhere else, so his attempts to block Billy are rather weak and kind of embarrassing.

“Let’s go. Pass it up now. Get open!”, their coach yells from the sidelines.

Despite Steve trying to grab the ball out of the air, Billy catches it with ease, and dripples it in front of him with a grin on his face. Like he’s making fun of him. Like he’s just waiting for Steve to run off and yell about Billy being mean to him, as if this was kindergarten. Steve kind of wants to.

“All right! All right, all right”, Billy laughs, the ball bouncing on the gym floor. Steve feels detached from what’s happening. He can’t concentrate, all he can think about is how many bacteria are covering the ball right now. He doesn’t think he’s ever questioned that before today. “King Steve. King Steve, everyone! I like it. Playing tough today.”

He really isn’t, he’s just kind of watching Billy and hopping lightly. It’s pathetic, almost. “Jesus! Do you ever stop talking, man?”, Steve replies. “Come on!”

Billy grins and comes a bit closer. He smells like cigarettes and spicy cinnamon. Steve’s not sure if he likes it, but what he doesn’t like is the way it clings to him. Still, it’s unfair how effortlessly Billy plays basketball. Like someone with actual talent, almost, and not just someone who dreamed of becoming famous as a child. “What? You afraid the coach is going to bench you now that I’m here, huh?”, with that, Billy runs past him, pushing Steve to the ground in the progress. He groans, his back hurts, the floor is too hard. He can hear the rivalling team shout when Billy makes the shot.

Steve sighs.

Then Billy’s standing over him, still with that shit-eating grin on his face. He offers his hand, and Steve honestly doesn’t know why he grabs it. Billy pulls him closer just a bit. “You were moving your feet”, he offers him unwanted advice. Steve knows how to play basketball, he knows how to make sure he won’t get pushed over, he just doesn’t find it in him to care right now. And maybe he was searching for some kind of dumb fight, like last year, with Jonathan. “Plant them next time, draw a charge.”

Billy doesn’t help him up, of course he doesn’t, because he’s obviously an asshole who takes pleasure in riling Steve up and bothering him. Instead, he pushes Steve onto the ground again, and then steps over him.

Steve groans, before standing up by himself. Jonathan’s fist against his face was a lot more enjoyable, somehow. He finds himself almost missing the sensation, Jonathan’s anger and him above him, like he’s telling Steve where he belongs.

A shiver runs down his back, but Steve swallows it down. Now is not the time to think about stuff like that. Now he needs to concentrate on playing at least a little bit of actual, good basketball, and not letting Billy Hargrove make him look as bad as he feels.

It doesn’t get much better, not really. Steve gets a few more shots in and doesn’t fall again, but his team loses anyways. The gap between the numbers isn’t close, either.

That’s how he ends up in the showers.

Over the last year, Steve had ended up hating showers after gym. He had never liked them before, but that had just been a vague feeling. Now, he had something to be scared of. Originally, he had thought about wearing swim trunks while showering, but that had been a dumb idea. It would just make it more obvious that he was hiding something.

So, nervously standing around and trying to ignore everyone else it was.

Hargrove, of course, wouldn’t let him get away with that. Was trying to piss of Steve comedy for him?

Water runs down his face, his hair has grown long enough to fall over his eyes. It’s cool, like always, somehow the water in the boy’s showers never gets particularly hot and in the girl’s room, it doesn’t cool down. Carol used to complain about it all the time.

Billy steps to the shower beside his, turning it on. “Don’t sweat it, Harrington. Today’s just not your day, man”, he says. God, does that grin never leave his face? Does he have facial expressions other than grin and cigarette?

“Yeah, or not your week”, Tommy steps under the shower opposite of him, laughing loudly. His body is sprinkled with freckles. Tommy used to be really insecure about them, but Steve always told him that they were cool and that he wanted some, too. Now Tommy is laughing in his face anyways. “You and the princess break up for one day, she’s already running off with the freak’s brother.”

Steve shouldn’t be surprised, not really, because Nancy and Jonathan had always been friends. Why would Nancy not go to her friend after a break up? Still, it hurts. Especially because he knows that Jonathan’s the one who bought her home after that party, that Jonathan isn’t the one she called “bullshit”.

Tommy doesn’t need to know that, though, and so Steve stays quiet. Stay quiet, don’t be bothered. Pretend.

But just as Steve knows Tommy, Tommy knows Steve.  “Oh, shit. You don’t know”, Tommy says, chuckling. “Jonathan and the princess skipped yesterday. Still haven’t shown. But that must just be a coincidence, right?” He laughs as he turns off the shower and walks into the locker room.

“Don’t take it too hard, man. A pretty boy like you has got nothing to worry about”, Billy says to him, leaning closer. Despite the shower, his scent is still so overpowering. “Plenty of bitches in the sea.” He turns of Steve’s shower. “Am I right?”, he asks. “I’ll be sure to leave you some.” His hand hits Steve’s back in what could be a playful slap if they were friends, but they aren’t. They aren’t anything close to friends.

Steve looks after Billy as he walks past him out of the showers, turning off Steve’s shower in the progress. He wants to run out, to his car and drive far, far away. Instead, he just sighs and turns the shower back on, to get the new whiff of cinnamon Billy had left on him off.

November 4, 1984.

Hawkins wasn’t safe. Had it ever been safe? Steve wasn’t so sure anymore.

Once again, he is standing in the Byers house, and the world is ending around him. Monsters, multiple monster, not just one, are loose in the town. He had fought them, with nothing more than a fucking baseball bat with a few nails rammed through it. That had only been a few hours ago, but it felt miles away.

After they had all driven back from the lab and regrouped at the Byers house, Nancy’s brother, Mike, had filled them in on everything that had been going on there. It is quiet here, eerily so, and Steve couldn’t help but worry that something was going to happen, something bad, right now. He had put the bat on the kitchen counter, ready to grip if anything happened. Still, he wishes he had a gun or similar, a bat simply felt like it wasn’t enough against everything that was waiting for them out there.

Whatever everything was.

Will, a small, frail pup, had been placed on the couch. Jonathan is sitting next to him, stroking through his brother’s hair. Nancy stands behind him, arms crossed in front of her chest and watches them quietly. Almost protective. Steve looks away. Had Tommy been right and they were dating now? He doesn’t want it to be true, though it probably is.

He doesn’t want to be hung up on it, because Jonathan’s brother was taken over by some weird monster from a different dimension and more of those monsters were running around Hawkins without a care in the world. There were really more important things to be worried about. But it hurts anyways. Just a few days ago, Nancy had called him “bullshit” and said she didn’t love him, and now she had a new boyfriend.

Maybe. Probably.

Steve turns around, he can’t look at those two right now, and walks past Chief Hopper into the kitchen, where the pups are sitting at the table.

“I don’t know how many people are there. I don’t know how many people are left alive!”, Hopper yells into the telephone he’s holding and sighs. “I am the police! Chief Jim Hopper!”

Steve leans against the kitchen counter, one hand on the bat next to him.

“Yes, the number that I gave you, yes. I will be here”, Hopper says and hangs up. He looks exhausted, they all are, because it’s the middle of the night and nobody has slept in quite a while.

“They didn’t believe you, did they?”, Dustin asks from his seat at the kitchen table. Next to him, Max looks like she’s about to fall asleep. Steve can’t blame her, though he wonders how she does it at a time like this. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to close an eye the next weeks, if this ever ends and if he isn’t killed in the process.

“We’ll see”, Hopper just says. Nobody seems to be satisfied by that answer.

“We’ll see?!”, Mike asks. “We can’t just sit here while those things are loose.”

“We stay here, and we wait for help”, Hopper answers, in a tone that leaves no room for discussions. Steve can smell the alpha scent radiating off of him, full of worry and anger. It only makes Steve even more nervous, but he’s glad it’s not too overpowering, like his fathers or Hargrove’s scent.

Hopper walks down the hallway out of their sight. For a few moment, it’s quiet. Steve doesn’t really like it, it leaves to much room for thoughts and feelings. He doesn’t have the time for those right now. In an attempt to not spiral, he keeps on squeezing his fingers, one after the other, left to right, then right to left. He can see Dustin draw out circles on the kitchen table with his index finger and Max making little braids in her hair.

Mike stands up, walking over into the living room, to a small table next to the couch. He grabs something that Steve can’t quite see. “Did you guys know that Bob was the original founder of Hawkins AV?”, he asks. Steve doesn’t even really know who Bob is, except for the short summary Mike at given them off the earlier events, which mainly narrowed Bob down to “Joyce’s boyfriend” and “a hero”.

“Really?”, Dustin asks.

“He petitioned the school to start it and everything. Then he had a fund-raiser for equipment. Mr. Clarke learned everything from him. Pretty awesome, right?”, Mike answers, turning back around to them. Steve remembers Mr. Clarke, at least, his middle school science teacher, though he doesn’t remember much about the man or the lessons.

“Yeah”, Dustin and Lucas say at the same time.

Mike places the blue block on the table. “We can’t let him die in vain.”

“What do you want to do, Mike? The chief’s right on this”, Dustin argues. “We can’t stop those demo-dogs on our own.”

“Demo-dogs?”, Max asks.

“Demogorgon. Dogs”, Dustin says. “Demo-dogs. It’s like a compound, it’s like a play on words- “

“Okay”, Max interrupts him, rolling her eyes.

“I mean when it was just Dart, maybe…”, Dustin mumbles.

“But there’s an army now”, Lucas finishes the thought for him.  

“Precisely.”

“His army”, Mike says slowly.

“What do you mean?”, Steve asks, raising an eyebrow.

“His army. Maybe if we stop him, we can stop his army, too.” With those words, Mike runs out of the kitchen down the hallway, the other pups immediately follow him. Steve sighs, but he walks after them, too. He’s still not quite sure whose army these pups are talking about. God, they talk so much. They couldn’t keep their mouth shut earlier, while in the bus or in the forest, either.

Was he like that at their age? Probably, a little bit. But not really. In his last year of middle school, he was captain of the basketball team and kissed a girl for the first time, and did not care even a little bit about the AV club or that game they like to play that Dustin told him about. He also was not fighting against interdimensional monsters.

They shouldn’t either. God, they’re so young. Steve walks a bit faster the last few steps into what he assumes is Will’s room.

Mike grabs a drawing of a spider-like creature and holds it for everyone to see. Steve watches them over Dustin’s shoulder.

“The shadow monster”, Dustin points out.

“It got Will that day on the field”, Mike explains. “The doctor said it was like a virus, it infected him.”

“And so, this virus, it’s connecting him to the tunnels?”, Max asks, eyes blown wide open.

“To the tunnels, monsters, the upside down, everything.”

“Whoa, slow down, slow down”, Steve says, because he’s not following. Which field? How did it “get” Will? How is that thing a virus? It looks gigantic. Aren’t viruses, like, small little things that end up inside of the bloodstream? He’s pretty sure he learned that for his last biology exam. It was on one of the little green flashcard. Yeah, viruses didn’t look like that in his notes. Though, he also thought monsters weren’t real, and they are very real. Maybe those interdimensional things don’t act like viruses on earth.

“Okay, so, the shadow monster’s inside everything. And if the vines feel something like pain, then so does Will”, Mike explains.

“And so does Dart”, Lukas adds.

“Yeah, it’s like what Mr. Clarke taught us. The hive mind”, Dustin tells him.

“Hive mind?”, he asks. Maybe he should’ve listened better in middle school.

“A collective consciousness. It’s a super-organism”, Dustin expands on the concept. A “hive-mind”, huh?

“And this is the thing that controls everything. It’s the brain”, Mike shakes the drawing he’s still holding.

“Like the mind flayer”, Dustin says, like he just found the answer to everything. Lucas and Mike nod, they seem to get it, but there are only question marks popping up in Steve’s head.

“What?”, him and Max ask at the same time. At least Steve is not the only one who doesn’t understand it.

“Wait, wait, wait”, Dustin mumbles while walking over to the bookshelf next to Will’s bed. He pulls out a gigantic thing, thicker than every book that Steve has ever owned. “It’s all in here. Come on, we’ve got to tell the others!”

They end back up on the kitchen table, Steve leaning over Dustin to watch what he’s looking for in the book. “Dungeons and dragons”, is printed on the cover. What does that game have to do with anything?

The pups get Jonathan, Nancy and Hopper to join them at the table, too. At the sight of the book, Jonathan raises an eyebrow, and Steve almost wants to say: “Yeah, I don’t get it either. But hey, pups are pups, right? And these ones are pretty smart.” He doesn’t, of course. Instead, he pulls his lower lip between his teeth and watches as Dustin opens the book.

“The mind flayer”, Dustin points at one article on the page. It shows a small illustration of something that looks like a scary octopus with a cloak on?

“What the hell is that?”, Hopper asks. Steve would like the answer as well.

“It’s a monster from an unknown dimension. It’s so ancient that it doesn’t even know its true home. Okay, it enslaves races of other dimensions by taking over their brains using its highly-developed psionic powers”, Dustin explains.

“Oh my god, none of this is real. This is a kids’ game”, Hopper sighs, running his hand through his hair.

“No, it’s a manual. And it’s not for kids”, Dustin says. He looks like he also wants to say something about adults playing it too, but he holds himself back. “And unless you know something that we don’t, this is the best metaphor- “

“Analogy”, Lucas corrects him. Steve doesn’t really know the difference.

“Analogy? That’s what you’re worried about?”, Dustin asks, sighing. “Fine! An analogy for understanding whatever the hell this is.”

Nancy leans over the book to take a better look. “Okay, so this mind-flamer thing- “, she starts.

“Flayer. Mind flayer”, Dustin interrupts her.

“What does it want?”, Nancy questions.

“To conquer us, basically. It believes it’s the master race.”

“Like the Germans”, Steve says. Is that a metaphor or an analogy?

“Uh, the Nazis?”, Dustin asks.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, the Nazis”, Steve mumbles.

“Uh, well, if the Nazis were from another dimension, totally”, Dustin says, nodding slowly. “It views other races, like us, as inferior to itself.”

“It wants to spread, take over other dimensions”, Mike adds to the explanation

“We are talking about the destruction of our world as we know it”, Lucas’ gestures make the whole thing seem even more dramatic.

“That’s great, that’s great, that’s really great”, Steve sighs and runs his fingers through his hair. “Jesus!” Are they being dramatic or is that thing really trying to destroy their world? The octopus-monster doesn’t really look like the spider on Will’s drawing. Maybe it’s a different thing, but maybe, this thing is trying to end them all. There’s a shiver running down his back. He doesn’t want to die, not like this. Not when there’s so much he hasn’t got to do or say.  

“Okay, so if this thing is like a brain that’s controlling everything, then if we kill it…”, Nancy says, like it’s simple. She’s calm and collected, and Steve doesn’t understand how she’s doing that. He needs to calm down, too, breathe. He can do this.

He looks over to the counter, where the bat is still lying. Just two steps and he can grab it. Good. It might not be much, but it makes him feel just a tad better.

“We kill everything it controls”, Mike finishes Nancy’s thought.

“We win”, Dustin says. Yeah, win. Winning sounds good.

“Theoretically”, Lucas mumbles.

“Great, so how do you kill this thing? Shoot it with fireballs or something?”, Hopper asks.

Dustin chuckles and shakes his head. “No. No, no fire- no fireballs. You summon an undead army, uh, because…”, suddenly, he seems to realize how everything he’s talking about sounds to Hopper. “Because zombies, you know, they don’t have brains, and the mind flayer, it… it likes brains. It’s just a game, it’s a game.”

“What the hell are we doing here?”, Hopper closes the book and rubs his eyes.

“I thought we were waiting for your military backup”, Dustin says.

“We are!”

“But even if they come, how are they going to stop this? You can’t just shoot it with guns!”, Mike yells.

“You don’t know that! We don’t know anything!”, the chief yells back. Steve tries to take a deep breath. There’s too much going on, and he doesn’t like any of it.

“We know it’s already killed everybody in that lab”, Mike says.

Lucas nods wildly along with him. “And we know the monsters are going to moult again.”

“We know it’s only a matter of time before those tunnels reach this town”, Dustin finishes the thought. If they weren’t about to die, Steve would find it endearing how they add to each other’s sentences. It’s sweet to watch, how well they know each other. He wishes he had friends like that, that just understood him.

“They’re right.” Steve is pulled out of his thoughts by Joyce’s voice. She’s standing in the hallway, wide eyed and still in those hospital clothes. “We have to kill it. I want to kill it.”

Steve wants that, too. He needs it gone. He doesn’t want to die, and he… he wants to feel safe again.

“Me too, me too, Joyce, okay? But how do we do that?”, Hopper walks towards her and places his hands on her shoulders. “We don’t exactly know what we’re dealing with here.”

“No, but he does”, Mike says suddenly. He gets up from the kitchen chair and walks over to the living room, where Jonathan’s brother is still lying on the couch, looking pale and breakable. “If anyone knows how to destroy this thing, it’s Will. He’s connected to it, he’ll know its weakness.”

“I thought we couldn’t trust him anymore”, Max questions, and Steve nods along with her. “That he’s a spy for the mind flayer now.”

“Yeah, but he can’t spy if he doesn’t know where he is.” When Mike actually explains his full plan to them instead of talking in cryptic messages, Steve can’t do anything but accept that that idea sounds pretty smart. As much as Mike has a big mouth, he’s quite smart. They all are, really.

Joyce offers them to use the shed in the backyard, and everyone gets to work to make it unrecognisable. While the pups search for all kinds of sheets and cardboard to cover the walls, Hopper gets to dumping out all of the stuff inside in the backyard. Steve finds a stappling gun, and after Max offers him some tarpaulin, he gets up onto the small ladder and begins stappling it to the wall.

Nancy steps inside, a piece of black fabric in her hand, which she rips apart so that it’ll fit the wall as well. Neither of them says anything, and for a moment, Steve only hears the stapples and Dustin and Lucas arguing outside.

He doesn’t know what to say to Nancy, he doesn’t even know if he wants to talk to her. He doesn’t think he wants to apologize to her anymore like he wanted a day or two ago, he’s not sure how long it’s been. The roses are probably drying up in his car right now. He still doesn’t know what he would be apologizing for.

Nancy is the first one to talk. “Hey”, she says.

Steve looks up to her from where he had been grabbing more tarpaulin. Despite the end of the world being near, Nancy looks more collected than he’s seen her in days. Was that because she was just good at focusing on the important bits or was that his fault?

“What you did, uhm, helping the pups, that was… really cool”, she says, throwing him a careful smile.

Steve swallows. He wants it to be true, but he’s not sure if he can believe Nancy right now. But he doesn’t say that. Instead, he just nods and climbs back up the ladder to continue stappling. “Yeah. Those little shits are real trouble, you know?”

“Believe me, I know”, Nancy answers, now really smiling. Like it’s fine. Like they’re fine. But Steve isn’t fine, not at all. He wants to start crying and run away from this shitty town, but he doesn’t. He stapples more fabric to the wall of the shed and smiles, too.

Maybe Nancy’s right, and he needs to stop pretending, but now is not the time for that.

Luckily, he doesn’t have to think about this much longer. “Here, Steve!”, Dustin runs into the shed, holding big pieces of cardboard. “We got more stuff for the walls.” Lucas follows him, carrying even more.

“Looks great”, Steve offers, grinning at them. “Just dumb it right there.”

With everyone working hard, it only takes twenty more minutes to make the shed unrecognizable. Steve watches as Jonathan secures his brother against the chair while he closes the door. As much as he dislikes what Nancy and Jonathan have going on, he can’t help but think that Jonathan is so, so cool. Cool and strong.

Steve closes the door quietly and walks back into the house.

While the pups stand in front of the kitchen window to watch if anything happens in the shed, Nancy leans against the counter, looking at her shoes. When she doesn’t do anything, she looks a lot more worried as well. It’s a bit comforting, to know that he isn’t the only one quietly panicking. The eery, cold feeling doesn’t leave his body as he paces through the house nervously, so he ends up grabbing the bat and walking over to the living room to practice swinging it. It’s a bit better, because at least he has some sort of weapon, but he can practically feel Nancy watching him. 

Maybe he should say something, anything at all, but he doesn’t find any words.

That’s when lights flicker. Immediately, with a tight grab onto the bat, Steve runs over to the pups, who are still sitting under the kitchen window. Nancy is next to him, looking all over the room, but there are no sounds, no screeching, anywhere. The lights flicker once more, then it stops.

Steve takes a deep breath, but he doesn’t feel anymore calm.

It takes ten more minutes of nervously leaning against the kitchen counter while Lucas, Max and Dustin debate the best course of action against the mind flayer if this plan happens to not work out, when Hopper comes storming into the kitchen, grabbing a piece of paper off of the fridge. Mike, Jonathan and Joyce are following him as he walks over to the kitchen table.

“I think he’s talking, just not with words”, Hopper explains while drawing a series of dots and dashes onto the paper.

“Hey, what is that?”, Steve asks.

“Morse code”, those nerds answer all at once.

“H-E-R-E”, Hopper decodes the morse code.

“Here”, Mike whispers.

„Will is still in there. He’s talking to us”, Hopper says. “It’s working. We’ll go back, hopefully reaching Will and you all here figure out what he’s saying, yes?”

Everybody nods, and alongside the pups and Nancy Steve works on deciphering the morse code. Where did that kid learn morse code? Was that something that people did these days? Was it a hobby?

“Done!”, Lucas exclaims, excited.

Steve leans over so that he can see the message Will is sending them, too. “Close gate”, they read.

In that moment, the phone rings. Dustin, who’s standing closest to it, immediately runs over with Nancy right behind him. “Shit, shit, shit”, he mumbles while disconnecting the call. The next second, it rings again. Oh, god, Steve thinks. This is it.

With a surprising amount of strength, Nancy grabs the phone and pulls it off of the wall. She throws it straight across the room, until it ends up right in the middle of the living room floor. It’s quiet again, with only the wind rustling through the leaves.

“Do you think he heard that?”, Max asks, taking a step closer to Lucas.

“It’s just the phone, it could be anywhere”, Steve wants to be optimistic, but he can’t really bring himself to believe in it. “Right?”

But there’s roaring in the distance, a screech, and that feeling again. Fear, so much fear. Goosebumps run down Steve’s back.

“That’s not good”, Dustin whispers, looking out for threats through the window. Steve wants to yell at him, but Hopper is quicker. “Hey, get away from the windows”, the chief yells as he hurries inside with two guns in his hands.

For once, the pups listen, moving into the middle of the living room. Joyce and Jonathan run inside, carrying Will. Steve grabs his bat, holding onto it as tight as possible. It doesn’t feel like enough, he needs more, maybe a flamethrower or something like that. They were better prepared last time, but the threat is bigger, how are they going to get out of this?

“Do you know how to use this?”, Hopper yells towards Jonathan, offering him one of the guns.

“What?”, Jonathan asks, confused, overwhelmed, always keeping an eye on his brother.

“Can you use this?”, Hopper repeats.

“I can”, Nancy answers, catching the gun from Hopper. Steve watches her as she gets ready for a fight next to him. How does she not look scared? He doesn’t understand it, how she can be so calm and collected in situations and then worry so much about things were there’s nothing at stake.

He takes a deep breath and looks forward. Now is not the time to think about Nancy. She doesn’t love him anyways, so what does it matter? She has Jonathan now. He needs to concentrate on the problems at hand, which is the possible end of the world. Steve’s grip onto the bat never loosens.

There’s more noise all around the house, screeching here, snarling there, and he doesn’t know where to look. Which direction is it coming from? Will they even be able to protect the pups?

“What are they doing?”, Nancy whispers as she watches through the windows, were the leaves on the bushes are rustling. 

But then they can hear a snarl on the opposite of the house, and turn again. These noises will haunt him in his nightmares, Steve thinks, as the monster’s screams get louder. Louder and desperate, almost, until they stop abruptly. Then the window shatters, and a demo-dog lands on the wooden floor, directly in front of him.

Steve screams, as do the others. But the monster doesn’t move, not a single bit. It doesn’t even twitch, just lies there, lifeless on the ground.

“Holy shit”, he hears Dustin whisper.

“Is it dead?”, Max asks.

Hopper walks towards the thing, touches it with his foot. Nothing. Is it dead? Really dead? Steve wasn’t even sure if those monsters could die, but this one looks like there’s nothing left in it.

He’s about to loosen his grip on the bat, when the front door creaks. He watches, breathing heavily, as the lock turns. Nancy’s gun is lifted high, pointed directly at it. Then the door swings open, quietly, too quietly for any of those monsters. Which monster would open the door, anyways?

In front of the door there is no monster, at least no demo-dog or anything like that. Instead, it’s a girl, dressed all in black with her hair gelled back. Who is that? How did she open the lock from the outside? Does she have some sort of magic power, or what is going on here?

Next to him, Hopper lowers his gun, and Mike steps past him, walking towards the girl.

Steve is so over all this supernatural stuff.

November 5, 1994.

Steve can hear the church bells strike midnight from the backyard of the Byers' house. 

He sorts through all of the stuff Hopper had messily thrown out of the shed into one big pile, in search for the heater Joyce was sure is in here somewhere. Nancy lights up the mess with her flashlight, trying to find the thing as well.

Steve hates that she’s with Jonathan. He’s sure they’re dating now, because earlier he saw them standing next to Will’s bed and Jonathan had given Nancy a careful kiss. It’s so unfair, not even because Nancy dumped him after lying to him for god knows who long and immediately got together with another guy, but because Jonathan’s an omega, and he gets to be one. Earlier, when they had all been talking to Will, Jonathan had taken of his scent patch, and Steve had gotten just a whiff of his coffee-breakfast scent. It’s so unfair that Jonathan gets to be an omega, gets to tell others about it, while Steve is stuck with living in hiding.  He'd never thought he’d be jealous of Jonathan Byers, but he is.

He wants Nancy back, and he wants to tell her that he’s an omega and he wants her to understand and hug him and say it’s okay and that she loves him, but she won’t. Because she doesn’t love him. Nobody does, not really.

Steve swallows, throwing an old children’s chair to the side. Who cares what he feels? He can pretend again. Even if he can’t be happy, Nancy can.

“You should go with him”, Steve says, even though the words burn in his throat like he has a really bad cold.

“What?”, Nancy asks.

“With Jonathan”, he answers, pulling the Christmas lights spread all over the pile to the side.

“No, I’m…”, she sighs. “I’m not just going to leave Mike.”

“No one’s leaving anyone”, Steve says, walking over to her to look under the garden table she’s lifting up. Joyce was right, a heater’s sitting there. “I may be a pretty shitty boyfriend, but turns out I’m actually a pretty damn good babysitter.”

He’s not sure if he was that shit of a boyfriend. He had always tried his best, and the things he had lied about were things she still didn’t know about. But maybe… he’s just not what she needed. Nancy was so ambitious, so smart, so strong. And while he was a coward at times, she was thinking of ways to get justice for Barbara.

It hurts, anyways.

He offers her the heater, and she takes it carefully while looking up to him. Big, brown doe eyes, just like always. Like all those nights they had spend lying next to each other on her bed, sitting in his car before school, kissing in front of her locker.

“Steve”, her voice is small, barely a whisper. He looks away for a just a moment. He’s good at pretending. He can do this.

“It’s okay, Nance”, Steve says. “It’s okay.” It doesn’t feel okay, but she doesn’t have to know that. And so, he turns, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his jacket while walking back into the house. Babysitting duty it is, then.

It doesn’t take much longer for everyone to get ready for their part of the plan. Mike says goodbye to the little girl, she was introduced to him as Eleven, and they all watch the cars drive off. Hopper and Eleven in one car, Joyce, Will, Jonathan and Nancy in the other. It’s good that Nancy’s gone, the Byers probably need all the support possible, but selfishly, Steve also couldn’t stand her around him anymore. Not like this, when she was with someone new already.

“Let’s get inside now”, Steve opens the front door again, ushering the pups to go inside. “Before you all freeze to death.”

Dustin immediately corrects him that it is not cold enough for that yet, but Steve doesn’t really listen. They listen to him anyways, even if Mike very obviously rolls his eyes and mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like “you’re not my mother”. Steve pretends he doesn’t hear it and closes the door behind himself.

“What are we doing now?”, Lucas asks. “We can’t just sit around here until it’s over.”

“There’s a lot to do”, Steve signals over to the living room. The house is still a mess, the dead demo-dog lies on the living room floor and there are glass shards everywhere. Everywhere are those drawings of the tunnels, even on the floor. Steve can’t help but sigh when he looks at the mess.

“We’re not just cleaning up, right?”, Max asks. “That’s not helpful at all!”

“Well, no”, Steve answer. “We’re also disposing of a body.”

“You can’t just throw it away!”, Dustin yells, at the same time as Max exclaims very enraged: “You’re putting us on clean-up duty?”

“Yes, and yes.” Mike rolls his eyes once more. “Look, you don’t want your friend to come home to a dead monster in his house, right? And broken glass everywhere that could hurt him?”

“No”, Max mumbles. “But we could do something much more useful- “

“Make yourself useful with cleaning up first”, Steve cuts her off. “We can talk about other stuff, later. Maybe.”

“But we can preserve the body of the demo-dog, right? So there can be research done on it later?”, Dustin asks.

Steve isn’t quite sure what research Dustin is talking about, because who is going to do that? And how? But frankly, Steve doesn’t want to continue this discussion. “Fine. How do you plan on doing that?”, he asks.

“We’ll put it in the fridge! Go grab it!”, with newfound enthusiasm, Dustin begins pulling everything out of the Byers’ fridge to make room for the demo-dog. After Steve throws the others a dustpan, a broom and a bucket, they also make their way to get rid of the glass shards, though with not half as much motivation.

Steve walks over to the demo-dog, which is laying just as lifeless and weird looking on the floor. When it’s not screaming at him and threatening to eat him with all those sharp teeth, it doesn’t seem that big and scary. Though, this is also not its full size, not like the one they fought last year. It looks disgusting and slimy either way, so he grabs a blanket to pick it up and not get the weird goo all over his clothes.

It’s not terribly heavy, but very unwieldy to carry. The head almost hits him in the face every step he takes to bring it into the kitchen, which is now cluttered with everything that actually belonged in the fridge. Maybe he shouldn’t have convinced the pups to clean up, because this was arguably worse than before. Especially because nobody wanted to open the fridge and find a dead monster from a different dimension in it.

“All right”, Dustin says after throwing the last divider to the rest of pile on the floor. “It should fit now.”

“Is this really necessary?”, Steve asks, looking at all the groceries. He had really thought he was helping, but this? This didn’t look like help.

“Yes, it is, okay? This is a ground-breaking scientific discovery.” There wasn’t anyone they could show this to, anyways. Absolutely no reason at all to keep this dead thing. He really didn’t want any reminder of everything upside-down related. “We can’t just bury it like some common mammal, okay? It’s not a dog”, Dustin continues talking.

“All right, all right, all right”, Steve sighs. “But you’re explaining this to Mrs. Byers, all right?” He pushes the monster into the fridge, only for the head to fall right out and drip the slimy liquid all over the sleeve of his jacket. “Christ, help me out”, he calls out for the pup still standing behind him.

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Get the door, man”, Steve answers as he finally manages to push the head inside. Now the legs are about to fall out, though.

“All right, I got the door”, Dustin tells him, pushing the door closed while Steve works on shoving every part of the demo-dog back inside.

“Ew, Jesus”, some of the slime drips onto his hand. It feels sticky and dirty, why is he doing this again? When the thing finally is not about to fall out anymore, he takes a quick step back and closes the door as fast as he can. “God- “

Luckily for them, the door stays closed and the demo-dog doesn’t fall out again. “Phew”, Steve mumbles, patting the pup’s head in celebration. He gets a weird look for that, but it’s cute enough that he only chuckles.

From the kitchen, he can watch the others in the living room. Max and Lucas are still working on swiping up the last of those shards, while Mike just nervously paces around the room. Steve wants to sigh because of course it’s that pup who won’t stay put, but he can’t really blame him. The whole thing makes him nervous, too. But there’s nothing they can do, there’s no way he’ll risk them.

“Mike, would you just stop already?”, Lucas complains.

“You weren’t in there, okay, Lucas? That lab is swarming with hundreds of those dogs!”, Mike starts, though Dustin immediately interrupts him: “Demo-dogs!”

“The chief will take care of her”, Lucas tries to calm his friend down.

“Like she needs protection”, Max mumbles beside him.

“Listen, dude, a coach calls a play in a game, bottom line, you execute it. All right?”, Steve walks over to the pups will wiping the slimy demo-dog goo off his hands.

“Okay, first of all, this isn’t some stupid sports game. And second, we’re not even in the game, we’re on the bench”, Mike tells him. And well, he is right there. At least a little bit.

“So, my point is…”, he can’t help but start stammering. What exactly is he trying to say here? “Right, yeah, we’re on the bench, so, uh, there’s nothing we can do.”

“That’s not entirely true. I mean, these demo-dogs, they have a hive mind. When they ran away from the bus, they were called away”, Dustin corrects, Steve sighs as he rubs his eyes.

“So if we get their attention…”, Lucas starts.

“Maybe we can draw them away from the lab”, Max adds.

“And clear a path to the gate”, Mike finishes. Steve can’t believe how smart they are, and how well they compliment each other. He won’t let the plan they’re making happen though, no way.

“Yeah, and then we all die!”, he exclaims.

“Well, that’s one point of view”, Dustin mumbles.

“No, that’s not a point of view, man. That’s a fact”, Steve corrects him to further prove his point.

Mike doesn’t seem to care and pushes past them, while mumbling “no, no, no” and “I got it” to himself. He leads them all to the fridge, where the tunnels intersect with one another. “This is where the chief dug his hole. This is our way into the tunnel. So…”, Mike’s already walking back into the living room, where the tunnels all seem to lead into one big cave. “Here, right here. This is like a hub. See, you got all the tunnels feeding in here. Maybe if we set this on fire- “

“Oh, yeah, that’s a no”, Steve tells them immediately. They don’t listen to him, of course they don’t. Instead, they continue making a plan to somehow help their friends. Steve sighs. Whatever is not staying here is way too dangerous. He can’t risk the pups.

Said pups, however, are already building on their idea. “The mind flayer would call away his army”, Dustin says.

“They’d all come to stop us!”, Lucas argues. At least one sane person here, that is aware of the risk.

“Then we circle back to the exit. By the time they realize we’re gone- “, Mike reasons.

“Hey!”, Steve tries to intersect. “Guys!”

“El would be at the gate”, Max adds.

Nobody’s listening to him because they all talk over one another. Steve sighs, clapping to get their attention. “Hey! Hey! Hey!” Finally, the pups eyes are on him. “This is not happening”, he says. Never, he wants to add. Never would he put a couple of children at risk when he’s just sworn to Mrs. Byers fifteen minutes earlier that he’ll do everything possible to keep them safe.

“But- “, Mike tries to argue, but Steve is quick to shut it down.

“No, no, no, no, no. No buts. I promised I’d keep you shitheads safe, and that’s exactly what I plan on doing. We’re staying here, on the bench, and we’re waiting for the starting team to do their job”, none of them looks particularly excited at that decision, but at the least they could give him is a reaction other than staring at him like he’s done something stupid. “Does everybody understand that?”

“This isn’t some stupid sports game”, Mike complains.

“I said does everybody understand that?”, he repeats. There’s not a single sound coming from the pups. “I need a yes.”

That’s when there’s an engine revving just outside the house. Who is coming by the Byers house just shortly after midnight on a Monday night? Did something go wrong? Oh shit, what if the plan didn’t work out, what would they do then, if that shadow monster took over Hawkins, oh shit…

Steve sees Max run over into the living room to look through the window, Lucas following behind her immediately. He pushes past Dustin and Mike to watch, too.

“That’s my brother”, Max says, the same moment that Steve recognizes Billy Hargrove’s car. “He can’t know I’m here. He’ll kill me, he’ll kill us”, she looks at Steve, eyes wide open in panic and fear. This was the last thing they needed.

“Shit, shit, shit”, Steve mumbles, running his hand through his hair nervously. “Okay, then, go hide, all of you. Don’t let him see you, okay?”, Steve says, shooing them away from the door. “I’ll go talk to him.”

“There’s no use talking”, Max mumbles. “He’s crazy.” 

“Did none of you listen to me? I said to hide”, Steve repeats, because they’re all still standing in front of the window without a muscle moving. Instead, they’re looking worriedly at each other. “Hide!” That’s what gets them to walk down the hall towards Will’s room, but Steve catches Mike looking around the corner as he walks to the front door. Outside, the engine of Hargrove’s car reeves again. “Hide”, Steve mouths towards Mike, before opening the door and stepping outside.

He closes it behind him, watching as Hargrove parks in front of the house. Billy opens the door, in a leather jacket and with a cigarette between his lips, leaning against the hood of his car. “Am I dreaming or is that you, Harrington?”, he asks.

“Yeah, it’s me, don’t cream your pants”, Steve answers, walking down the few steps towards the alpha. Hargrove smells like cigarette and that spicy cinnamon he leaves everywhere like the world belongs to him.

“What are you doing here, amigo?”, Billy throws the leather jacket into the car and slams the door. Now he’s only in a dark red button up, which is barely buttoned at all. He pisses Steve off, in every way possible. His scent, his attitude, his style, his basketball skills, but what pisses him off the most is that Max is scared of him.

“I could ask you the same thing”, Steve says, crossing his arms. “Amigo.”

“Looking for my stepsister. A little birdie told me she was here.” Billy exhales the smoke of his cigarette into the cold air.

“Huh, that’s weird, I don’t know her”, Steve lies. He’s once more glad that he uses the best scent blockers on the market, because he couldn’t stand anyone knowing how nervous and scared he is.

“Small? Redhead? Bit of a bitch?”, Billy asks.

“Doesn’t ring a bell. Sorry, buddy.”

Billy sighs. “You know, I don’t know, this…” He clicks his tongue. “This whole situation, Harrington, I don’t know… it’s giving me the heebie-jeebies.”

“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?”, Steve tries his best to play dumb. Protect Max, that’s the priority.

“My 13-year-old sister goes missing all day, and then I find her with you in a stranger’s house.” The cinnamon in the air gets stronger, spicier, angrier. Shit, shit, shit. “And then you lie to me about it.”

Steve chuckles, looking to the side nervously. He can do this. Billy’s a typical alpha, he probably gets pissed at stupid, little arguments. If Billy gets pissed at him, maybe he’ll forget about the pups. “Man, were you dropped too much as a child, or what?”, he asks. Billy grins at him, as he blows the cigarette smoke right into Steve’s face. “I don’t know what you don’t understand about what I just said. She’s not here.”

Billy points over Steve’s shoulder with his cigarette. “Then who is that?”

Steve looks towards the house and immediately spots the four watching them through the window. Those shitheads.

“Oh, shit. Listen- “, but he never gets to finish his sentence, because Billy pushes him onto the ground with ease. Steve groans as his shoulder connects with the concrete, ouch.

He blinks upwards. Billy is leaning over him, smoking the last of his cigarette calmly like he isn’t absolutely raging inside. The cinnamon scent spreads over him like a blanket that leaves him no room to breathe, heavy with alpha pheromones. He wants to get up, get away, but when he tries to heave himself up onto his arm Billy is quicker. “I told you to plant your feet”, the alpha whispers and then kicks Steve right into his gut.

Steve groans in pain, curling up on himself. Billy grins as he walks right past him to the house.

Shit, shit, shit. His stomach hurts, that’ll be a nasty bruise later, but he can’t let Billy get to the pups. They can’t be hurt, he has to protect them. He already can’t protect them from the upside down, so he has to do this at least. 

Steve gets up slowly, stumbling a few steps before managing to stand upright. As he walks to the front door, he wipes his eyes before his hand wanders to the back of his neck. His scent patch is still on, every corner of the plaster glued down. Good, that’s good. Billy really is the least person to whom he wants to reveal his second gender. He can’t help but feel unsafe and scared whenever Billy’s pheromones cover him like this and his scent sticks to Steve. “That’s what omegas get”, Steve hears his father’s voice in his head.

There’s no time for that, though. The pups come first, and so he opens the front door and runs inside. They’re all standing at the kitchen entrance, except for Lucas. “You are so dead, Sinclair!”, Billy yells. Steve pushes past Max and Dustin and runs over to them.

“You’re dead”, Billy repeats, just as Steve pushes his shoulder to lead his attention away from the pup leaning against cabinet, breathing heavily.

“No, you are!” Steve punches the chuckle right off of his face. Behind him, Lucas escapes to his friends.

“Looks like you got some fire in you after all, huh?”, Billy laughs. His nose is bleeding. “I’ve been waiting to meet this King Steve everybody’s been telling me so much about.”

Billy walks closer, but Steve pushes him away with two fingers. He didn’t even win against Jonathan last year, he doubts that he’ll win against Billy now. Maybe, if he wasn’t pumped full of suppressants and somehow got an adrenaline rush to keep the pups safe. “Get out”, he says.

All gets from Billy is another chuckle, before his right hook swings at Steve. He ducks away, managing to get a second hit in. And another, and another, there’s more blood running out of Hargrove’s nose as he walks back against the kitchen counter. In the background, the pups are cheering him on.

Steve wants to get another hit in as the plate hits his head, and ouch, fuck, it feels like the porcelain shards were pressed into his skin. “Fuck”, he whispers as he stumbles back, holding his head. The shards touch his fingers as he tries to get them out of his hair. “Oh shit!”

Then Billy is there again, landing a hit right on Steve’s nose. He stumbles another few steps, past the pups into the living room, Billy following him immediately. He grabs Steve’s collar, and the scent is back, cinnamon and cigarettes. It only hurts his nose even more. God, this is so much worse than Jonathan. When Jonathan had fought him, Steve had practically asked for it, because he had felt like he deserved it.  He doesn’t want this.

“No one tells me what to do”, Billy tells him, and Steve’s lying on the floor, and oh god does his head hurt. Fuck, fuck, fuck. This needs to, he needs to do something, but what? His limbs are so heavy and they hurt, and then Billy is above him. His fist connects with Steve’s face once more. It’s all alpha and spice and pain. The pups are yelling something in the background, but he can’t hear them. Billy gets him again, and again.

Steve doesn’t want this, he wants the pain to stop and he doesn’t want Billy above him. He wants… he wants Nancy and her sweet words and smile, and he wants Jonathan’s worry and his scent. He wants the pups to be safe.

He tries to lift his arms, to do something, but Billy’s grip immediately pins them to the floor before he can move a muscle. Steve feels tears leave his eyes, no, no, no… His head gets thrown to the side again, and then it all turns black.

Everything hurts. His stomach, his hands, his head, his eyes, his nose, especially his nose. And everything moves. There’s something red next to him, but it won’t stand still. What is there? There’s something on it that looks like letters, but he can’t read it because the letters are dancing and jumping around. He looks further up, away from the red thing. There’s something else, beige, with many other colours like black… and blue… It has a cute nose, not like his. His feels very bad, so it probably looks like that, too.

“Nancy?”, he asks, the words come out slurred. It, no, he, looks at him, face scrunched up. The slightly milky pup scent hits him first, and oh shit, that’s Mike.

Steve groans, hand moving to touch his face and feel what’s wrong with it.

“No, don’t touch it”, an echo says, moving his hands away from his face. It’s coming from the other direction, and Steve moves his head slightly to look at the echo. “Hey, buddy…” Curls, more milky puppy scent, Dustin? “It’s okay, you put up a good fight. He kicked your ass, but you put up a good fight. You’re okay.”

Was he in a fight? Is that why his face hurts and feels so swollen? He moves his hand to the cold thing that’s placed on his forehead. It makes this a bit better. He grabs it to place it on his nose, when his eyes finally fall onto what’s in front of him.

“Okay, you’re going to keep straight for half a mile, then make a left on Mount Sinai”, Lucas says. He’s echoing too, fun. Why’s he doing that? Steve looks to the left, and is that Max behind a wheel? What is happening?

“What’s going on?”, he asks, words still slurred like if he drank too much. And then he remembers the upside down, the pups, Billy and the fight and shit, his head hurts. Steve doesn’t think he’s ever had a headache like this. His nose feels fragile and like it’s not quite in the right place. He can’t really see because his eyes are swollen and everything around him still kind of melts together.

From the front seat, the redheaded girl looks back at him, and yeah, that is definitely Max. Max, behind the wheel of a car. Max, driving. “Oh my god”, he yells, so loud that he makes himself wince.

“Just relax. She’s driven before”, Dustin tells him and holds his hand. The cold thing, an icepack probably, is placed back on his head.

“Yeah, in a parking lot”, Mike mumbles next to him.

“That counts”, Lucas yells at him over the backseat.

Steve can’t only groan. Fuck, it hurts. Fuck, they’re on the road and the thirteen-year-old is driving! “Oh my god”, he says, louder.

“They were going to leave you behind. I promised that you’d be cool, okay?”, Dustin asks, but Steve can only stare at the road in front of them.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, what’s going on?”, he asks, panicked as he realizes what is actually going on. He was beat up, they’re driving through Hawkins in the middle of the night to do whatever plan the pups had set their minds too. And then Max drives faster, and they’re all thrown back into their seats. “Oh my god, no! Stop the car! Slow down!”

“I told you he’d freak out”, Mike yells beside him, right into Steve’s ear.

“Stop the car!”, Steve repeats.

“Everybody shut up! I’m trying to focus!”, Max yells, practically screams, and it’s quiet for just a second.

“Oh, wait, that’s Mount Sinai!”, Lucas says, then. “Make a left.”

“What?”, she asks.

“Make a left!”, Lucas screams.

The tires of the car screech as Max makes the turn. Steve screams, as do Mike and Dustin next to him. He’s pretty sure they hit something. There’s a dull noise coming from the front of the car, but Max continues onto the next road.

Steve takes a deep breath, fuck, what has he gotten himself into? This is crazy, this is crazy. Absolutely batshit crazy. He looks at the pups in front of him, one after the other. Mike is yelling that Max should never be allowed on the road again and Lucas tells him to shut up. Otherwise, they seem… okay. Noone seems to be hurt. He looks at Dustin, raises his hand to run it through the pup’s curls.

“You’re okay?”, Steve asks. “You’re all okay?”

“Yeah, buddy, we’re fine”, Dustin tells him, though he doesn’t look to excited to have someone pat his head. “We’re all well.”

“Good, good”, Steve mumbles, blinking slowly. God, his head is throbbing. The world isn’t standing pretty still and Dustin doesn’t sound like an echo anymore. And they’re not hurt, so he didn’t fail completely. “What happened with Billy?”

“Max gave him a sedative”, Dustin explains, and Steve can only look at him in shock.

“She did what?”

“Yeah, and then she told him not to bother us again. So I think we’re okay now, and we took his car, got some supplies, fixed you up a bit and started driving.”

What the fuck. Steve doesn’t know what to say to that. At least they’re not hurt, he tells himself, even though it doesn’t make the situation much better.

“Now go right”, he hears Lucas tell Max, and she turns with enough force that Steve falls right onto Dustin. There seems to be a field, he can feel the uneven ground as she drives, now at least significantly slower.

“This is it!”, Mike exclaims, looking out of the window. “Stop!”

“You don’t need to yell”, Max tells him, though she’s yelling, too. It hurts Steve’s heat, brings the ringing in his ears back. “I can hear you!” She does park, though. The whole call jerks as they get to a stop, and Steve lands back in the middle seat. His cheek hits Mike’s shoulder, fuck, this feels horrible.

Lucas and Max get out of the car first, Lucas pulls back the front seat so that they can get out, too. Dustin goes first, Mike climbs over Steve and follows him. Steve stumbles after them, still very much out of it. The cold air hits his face and makes him shiver. Like this, he can actually feel the broken skin and swollen eyes.

He leans back against the still open car door. The pups are standing by the trunk, putting on, what is that, googles? “Guys”, Steve groans. They are actually planning on going down into those tunnels. Oh shit. Shit, shit, shit. “Oh, no, guys.”

They don’t listen, Mike just walks past him, carrying gasoline and a map. “Hey, where do you think you’re going?”, Steve yells after him. Nobody reacts. “What, are you deaf? Hello? We are not going down there right now, I made myself clear! Hey, there’s no chance we’re going to that hole, all right? This ends right now!” Max and Lucas walk past him, too. He tries to grab for them, but his legs are weak and now that he’s standing, everything around him is moving again. Fuck. Why can’t they just listen to him? He was supposed to protect them, keep them safe, and he couldn’t even do that. Instead, he got beat up by Billy Hargrove, fainted, left the pups to themselves and then he actually let them drive here.

Steve stumbles towards Dustin, who’s still standing by the trunk. Maybe he’ll listen at least, though he doesn’t have much hope. Especially not with the way Dustin looks at him while he’s about to put on the googles.

“Steve, you’re upset, I get it”, Dustin starts. Steve can’t be sure if he is upset, exactly. He’s definitely not happy, and the whole situation with the upside down is very upsetting. But he’s not upset about the pups wanting to help, he’s actually pretty proud of them. They made an admittedly good plan and took initiative and they did safe him from Billy Hargrove. Steve surely would have looked a lot worse if they hadn’t done that. He was just … worried. Very worried and a bit guilty. They shouldn’t have to put themselves in danger like this. They should play that game they liked and eat too much fast food and have fun, not try to fight interdimensional monsters.

“But the bottom line is, a party member requires assistance and it is our duty to provide that assistance”, Dustin continues. “Now, I know you promised Nance that you would keep us safe. So keep us safe.” He pulls another backpack out of the car, with the nail bat sticking out of it.

Steve shakes his head, but that’s bad idea, it only makes the pain worse.

He doesn’t want to do this. Of course he wants to help, but he’s endangering the pups and going back to those demo-dogs. Mike, Lucas and Max are probably already down there, though. And what good will it do if he just stands around here? That won’t work either.

So, he grabs the bag from Dustin, who grins at him as he puts on his googles before giving Steve his own pair. Steve pulls them on. They make his eyes hurt like shit, his skin is probably swelling up even more underneath. He tries to not let the pups notice as he follows them down into the tunnels, a bandana around his head so that.

The tunnels look, for lack of a better word, crazy.  They’re surprisingly big, he can stand up easily, and overgrown by vines. The scene reminds him a bit of a subway, except for the eeriness and quiet. It smells weird, as well. Not particularly like anything, just cold and clammy. He’d never thought being cold and feeling like he’ll freeze would have a smell, but it does. It’s this.

The air is full of particles that float all around them. It makes it even harder to see, as the path is only lit up by flash lights. Steve turns on the one Dustin gave him earlier. “Holy shit”, is all he can mumble to himself.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure it’s this way”, Mike says a bit deeper into the tunnel system. He’s standing in front of a branching, holding a map in his hand while shining into the left tunnel with the flashlight.

“You’re pretty sure or you’re certain?”, Dustin asks beside him. Steve walks towards them

“I’m 100 percent sure. Just follow me and you’ll know”, Mike responds, but oh, no, no, no, Steve can’t let that happen. He hurries over to them, his head hurts a bit more with every step. At least the cold in here might be good for his wounds?

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hey, I don’t think so”, Steve tells him.

 “What?”, Mike asks, sighing.

“Any of you little shits die down here, I’m getting the blame. Got it, dipshit?”, Steve asks, pushing to stand in front of Mike. He grabs the map in the progress. “From here on out, I’m leading the way. Come on, let’s go. Come on.”

He walks straight into the tunnel and hopes the pups don’t notice his shaky exhales.

Walking down here is weird to say at best. It’s dark, the vines spread over the ground and the walls and sometimes they make small screeching noises that always make the group flinch. There’s a looming threat that the demo-dogs might find them here and that they’ll all die. Steve’s whole body still hurts, but he tries to push it away as far as he can to focus on protecting the pups. They’re more important than his bruises.

They walk into another, bigger room where four tunnels lead into. There’s a big flower like structure right above them on the ceiling, with even more particles around it. “God”, Lucas mumbles behind him. “Disgusting.”

“What is this place?”, Max asks, her flashlight pointed onto the thing.

“Guys, come on! Keep moving”, Steve calls for them, in front of the next tunnel already. For once, they listen and follow him rather quickly. This tunnel seems a bigger than the one before, probably because it’s supposed to lead them to what Mike called the “hub”.

“Oh god! Help!”, Dustin’s screams stop him in his tracks. “Help! Help!” When he turns around, Lucas is already running back, Mike and Max following him immediately. He runs, too. Shit, shit, shit. They can’t loose someone here, they can’t loose anyone here, god, why did he agree to this? Why was he so weak that he couldn’t fight off Billy Hargrove, had to have the pups drug him and then let them drive here and walk into the tunnels like they were a demogorgon snack.

Dustin is lying on the ground by the entrance to the tunnel, pulling off the fabric over his mouth desperately. The other’s surround him and repeatedly ask if he’s okay.

“What happened? What happened?”, Steve kneels down in front of Dustin, holding onto his leg because that’s the part closest to him. Dustin doesn’t look like he’s bleeding, and there’s no demo-dog or demogorgon or anything else around, not that he can see it at least, so what is going on? Dustin can’t die, no, no, no.

“It’s in my mouth! Some got on my mouth! Shit!”, Dustin leans to the side, coughing wildly. The particles around him are floating like there’s a storm, but nothing else happens. What is Steve supposed to do? What do you do in a situation like this, fuck. He feels so entirely useless.

Dustin’s coughing slowly lets off, and when he looks back up, he seems pretty much… fine. There’s even the usual grin on his face. “I’m okay”, he says, breathing heavily. “I’m okay.”

Steve sighs, taking a deep breath. What the fuck was this pup thinking, scaring them like this?

“You serious?”, Max asks, apparently wondering the same thing.

“Very funny, man”, Steve mumbles, getting up from the cold ground. They needed to get out of here, as quickly as possible. They needed to get this over with. “Let’s go.”

Mike helps Dustin up and they continue their journey through these godforsaken tunnels. The further they walk, the colder it gets. The particles flow slower and slower around them. Every corner they pass, Steve worries that a demo-dog might be there. He made sure that the bat is always ready to grab, but he’s still scared. If he couldn’t even fight Billy, how can he fight a hoard of demo-dogs and keep the pups safe in the progress? But there’s no answer to that question.

After yet another corner, Steve is met by the sight of biggest cave yet, with tunnels feeding into it from every direction. The size rival’s the Byers’ house, he can’t quite believe this whole tunnel system is just sitting under Hawkins and has been for god knows how long. “All right, Wheeler”, he says. “I think we found your hub.”

With all their flashlights lighting up the place, it looks even more gruesome. There’s a small hill in the middle of the room, which looks like it’s made out of bones? Almost like this is a graveyard for whatever those monsters ate. It makes Steve want to puke.

“Let’s drench it”, Mike says. Steve nods, there’s nothing he’d rather do.

They begin spraying and pouring the gasoline all over the cave. Nobody talks while they work, they just try their best not to notify any monsters of their position. Steve can’t help looking at the slightest noise. When Max gasps because she almost stepped on one of the vines, he’s by her side immediately.

“I’m not a pup”, she whispers to him when he asks if she’s okay, but then nods anyways. Steve sees her as one, anyways. They all still have that typical pup scent to him, though it’s not very noticeable anymore. With every passing day, it’ll become less and less noticeable until they present and grow into their own scent. Now though, they’re still young and small and very much pups. Pups that need to be protected. That’s an omega job, right? Maybe he’d be good at it. Hopefully.

It doesn’t take much longer until they’re finished. At least, with the first part of the plan. Or was the first part of the plan the driving, and the second the walk, and this is the third part? Steve isn’t quite sure.

He shoos the pups back into the tunnel they came from and pulls out a lighter. It feels unreal, still, everything about this place. Steve’s face still hurts, but from the cold and the adrenaline it kind of morphed into the background. There are more important things to care about.

“You ready?”, Steve asks into the group, which is standing behind him at his order.

“Yeah”, Mike answers.

“Ready”, Lucas and Max confirm.

“Light her up”, Dustin says.

Steve looks at them, but they all seem determined and sure of themselves. Oh god, what are the other’s going to think when he comes back with the pups from this? “I am in such deep shit”, he mumbles to himself, before he flicks on the lighter and throws it onto the ground in front of them.

The fire catches immediately. In a matter of seconds, the whole cave is lit up by bright flames. It feels like everything around them screeches, the vines in the fire move in pain and the ones around them because they feel it, too.

Steve takes a moment too long to stare at the flames before he turns around. “Go, go, let’s go!”, he yells, and they run.

The way back towards the exit takes all too long. Steve’s the fastest, so he runs next to the pups to be able to keep an eye on all of them. “Let’s go, let’s go!”, he tells them, though it doesn’t do much, they’re already going as fast as they can it.

“Hey, this way”, he leads Lucas into the right direction back in the cave with the flower-thing on the ceiling. Max runs after him, and when Steve sees Mike and Dustin behind them, he runs after them, too.

Only three meters further though, Mike’s screams stop him in his tracks.

“Help!”, Mike yells, and Lucas is already pushing past Steve on the way back to him. “Help!” Steve follows them as quickly as he can.

Mike’s lying on the ground of the cave, a vine wrapping itself around his leg while the pup desperately tries to get it off. “Help”, he repeats again, looking up at them. Dustin, Max and Lucas immediately find their place behind Mike to offer him the little comfort you can get in a place like this, while Steve pulls out the nail bat.

“Hold on”, he says, and hits the vine for the first time. Then two, then three, and the thing breaks apart, screeching desperately. He pulls the part wrapped around Mike off of him and throws it into the opposite corner.  

“You okay?”, Lucas asks, and Steve catches Mike’s shaky nod.

He wishes he could give them more recovery time, but there’s no option for that right now. “Guys, we’ve got to go”, he tells them, still gripping tightly onto the bat. He doesn’t want to spend a second longer in this place.

A scream interrupts them. This time, it’s not human though, it belongs to a demo-dog, which is standing directly in front of the tunnel they have to go through to get back to the exit. Steve swallows as the demo-dog roars again, showing off its hundreds or thousands of teeth. He grabs Dustin’s shoulder, because the pup should not be standing in the first line, he should get behind Steve so that he can protect him, but Dustin doesn’t move an inch.

Instead, he whispers: “Dart.”

“Get behind me, now”, Steve tells him, at the same time as Lucas says: “Are you going crazy?” Mike and Max mumble something too, but Dustin shushes them.

“Trust me, please”, he says, giving Steve a hopeful look before taking slow, careful steps towards the demo-dog. Steve wonders if something is wrong with him, there’s no way he should be allowing it. That’s an interdimensional monster which could probably kill them in seconds. That is not Dustin’s pet.

But Dustin said to trust him, and Steve wants to try that. He takes two little steps closer anyways, just to be closer if it didn’t work.

“Hey, it’s me, it’s me. It’s just your friend, it’s Dustin. It’s Dustin, all right?”, Dustin does talk to the thing like it is his pet, though, and not like it ate his cat. He even kneels down in front of it. “You remember me? Will you let us pass?”, the pup asks.

The demo-dog, or Dart, just snarls loudly and shows its teeth once more. Steve grips onto the bat even tighter, his knuckles, which are still torn from the fight, start to hurt.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I’m sorry about the storm cellar. That was a pretty douchy thing to do”, Dustin says, smiling at the demo-dog. “You hungry? Yeah?” He reaches into his backpack.

“He’s insane”, Lucas whispers next to him

“Don’t”, Mike says.

“Shut up”, Steve tells them. Whatever Dustin is doing, the monster, demo-dog, Dart, isn’t attacking them, so it seems to be working. Even though it looks crazy and he doesn’t have any good feelings about this situation.

“I’ve got our favourite. See? Nougat”, Dustin unpacks a nougat bar and places it in front of Dart. It looks at the nougat for a moment, before it actually swallows it. “Look at that. Yummy. Here, all right? Eat up, buddy. Come on.” Dustin grins at them and waves them past the demo-dog while he unpacks a second nougat bar.

They wait for him a few meters down the tunnel. Dustin places yet another nougat in front of Dart, before he stands up slowly. “Goodbye, buddy”, Steve hears him whisper. It makes him sigh, Dustin is too good of a pup.

“Let’s go, let’s go”, he hurries them down the tunnel anyways, because he doesn’t want to stay another second, even if Dustin is now friends with one of those monsters. No need to risk it.

He turns another corner, and then he’s finally back in the tunnel with the exit, the rope hangs down just a few more steps. The pups run past, seeing the rope as well.

Just then, everything around them trembles. It feels like what Steve had always imagined an earthquake feels like, as if the ground was shaking and everything was about to collapse on top of him. Nothing collapses, though. The trembling is gone just as quickly as it came, but it’s followed by the monsters, Steve can’t tell how many, roaring and screaming.

“They’re coming, they’re coming! Run! Run!”, Mike yells. They hurry the last few steps to finally reach the rope, even more desperate to leave this place.

“Come on, come on”, Steve tells them, helping Max climb out of the hole. “Let’s get out of here.” Lucas is the next one he helps up, Mike follows.

Then, the roars are back. They’re louder, this time, and followed by what seems like desperate paws hitting the ground. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Steve hopes they don’t choose this way, but when the noise gets closer so quickly, he doesn’t have any hope left.

So, he grabs the bat again and shoves Dustin behind him. “Climb up”, he whispers to the pup. “Now!”

But Dustin just shakes his head, even though Steve can see that he’s trembling. The milky scent, which is mostly overshadows by the cold scent of these tunnels, has turned rotten in fear. “No one is left alone”, Dustin says. “Party rules.” Steve wants to tell them that he’s being stupid, that Steve is not even in that party and has no idea what he’s talking about, but there’s no time for that.

Above them, the pups are screaming something down at them, but Steve can’t hear them. He can only hear the demo-dogs which come running around the corner, directly towards them. Fight, he needs to fight. Fight, and keep Dustin save.

The demo-dogs are quick, so quick. Steve is about to try and swing a hit against the first one, but it doesn’t jump him. Instead, it runs past him and Dustin, deeper into the tunnel behind him. The other ones follow it. There’s so many, and they surround them, but none of them seem to care. Dustin opens his eyes a few seconds later, hand gripping tightly onto Steve’s jacket as he watches the demo-dogs run by. “Woah”, Steve hears him whisper.

He can’t count how many there are, because they’re so fast, but at some point there are no new ones coming and the screams and steps get quieter with every passing moment.

“Come on”, he tells Dustin. “We were down here long enough.”

The pups help pull Dustin up, and grab Steve’s arm too when he climbs up after him. Immediately, the air feels much cleaner, and warmer, too. He pulls off the bandana and the googles, which have probably left red marks around his already black eyes. But feeling the fresh air around him again makes it just a bit better. He’s so glad to get out of here.

Steve is still breathing heavily and is slowly starting to feel his headache again, when the car lights suddenly turn on. Steve holds his arm in front of his eyes, he can see the pups doing the same, as he watches the lights turn brighter and brighter. “El”, Mike whispers. “That’s El.” Steve’s almost afraid they’ll break and someone will have to explain to Billy Hargrove why his lights are burned through, but before they do that, it turns off like a switch was flipped.

It’s quiet.

Is it over? Steve’s not sure. It should be over, right? The lights are out, the gate is closed. Should be closed. When he takes a few steps back towards the hole to look down, he doesn’t see anything. It’s still dark and cold, but he can’t see any of those particles floating anymore. Maybe it really worked. He can’t bring himself to believe it.

“We need to go back and see if everyone’s okay”, Mike decides. “I need to check on Will, and on El, and…”

“You need too? Shouldn’t we all look for them?”, Lucas asks, and they’re back in their usual little arguments.

Steve sighs as he walks to the trunk off the car to throw the backpack in there. He watches the pups argue for a moment before interrupting them. “Well, what are you waiting for? Can’t drive if you’re still standing around there.” They’re quick to throw everything into the trunk. Steve closes it afterwards and walks over to the driver’s door, where Max is about to get in.

“What do you think you’re doing there?”, he asks, hands on his hips.

“Driving”, she answers.

“Yeah, I don’t think so”, Steve snatches the key off of her. “No way I’ll let you drive back. Get in the backseat.”

“You probably like, have a concussion or some shit. You shouldn’t be driving”, Max tells him, and Dustin agrees with her from the backseat.

“And you’re a minor and don’t have a license. If my head wasn’t fine, I wouldn’t have been able to run around with you down there”, he pushes the seat forward so she can get to the backseat. Mike sighs as he sees that he’ll have to slide over into the middle seat. “Get in there.”

Max rolls her eyes at him, but does so anyways, and Steve sits down and starts the engine. For the fact that Billy is such an asshole, he drives an exceptional car. Steve wishes he could appreciate it more, but after half of the drive his head is throbbing even worse than before and he’s pretty sure his lip is bleeding again. They were probably right, telling him not to drive. Luckily, Lucas tells him where to go and the streets of Hawkins are completely empty at half past one in the morning, so they manage to make it back to the Byers’ home safely. Or well, as safe as this operation was.

When Steve parks in the driveway, Jonathan’s car is already back. Just his luck, that they’ll all see the danger he put the pups into. God, why is he so shit at everything.

The pups don’t seem to concerned, because the moment the car stops they are all scrambling to look for Will. Steve just opens the door and follows them significantly slower, because with all of it over, his mind is registering his injuries once again. His body hurts with every step, he can’t see out of his left eye as well because it’s so swollen up. 

He forces himself to walk into the house anyways. What else is he supposed to do, either way? He’ll have to explain to Mrs. Byers somehow that there’s a demogorgon stuck in the fridge, that all her groceries are lying on the kitchen floor, that Max’s step brother is unconscious in their living room and that they went to the tunnels and lit them on fire. It sounds even worse when he lists it off like that.

The door is still wide open from when the pups ran inside, so Steve doesn’t have to knock.

The room looks just as messy as when they left it. Billy is lying next to the couch, they probably couldn’t lift him up there. The pups, Mrs. Byers and Jonathan are nowhere to be seen, but Steve guesses they’re in his room as that is one of the few left mostly unscathed.

Nancy’s standing in the kitchen, putting the groceries onto the counter. Steve wants to say something, maybe something like “Hey, we’re back! Sorry that I got your brother and his friends almost killed!”, but he doesn’t find it in himself to speak. Instead, he leans his head against the wall. Oh, it’s nice to have something stable beside himself, because he doesn’t feel stable at all. He closes his eyes for a moment, and that makes it even nicer, without light bothering it. The throbbing pain doesn’t stop, though.

“Steve?”, someone asks, and Steve blinks. Jonathan is standing in front of him, looking him up and down. He’s sweaty and his shirt is clinging to him. “What happened to you?”

Nancy is standing beside Jonathan just a moment later, watching Steve in the same manner. “Steve? I thought you were already back there with the pups?”

“Billy Hargrove”, he answers to Jonathan’s question, still leaning against the wall. “We had like a fight. He won.”

Nancy looks at him like he’s some kind of crazy. Like he wanted to fight Billy, maybe. “That’s why he’s here? Why would you fight him? You were supposed to take care of the children, and instead you’re getting into fights?”, her voice gets louder with every word, until Jonathan places a hand on her shoulder.

“Sorry”, Steve mumbles. “He’s Max’s step brother, and he wanted to kill Lucas.”

It takes moment until one of them answers. “What?”, Nancy asks then, now quieter.

Steve nods. The world turns faster for a second, then he blinks it away. “Yeah, he knocked me out, and I think Max gave him some of that anaesthesia they bought for your brother, Byers. I don’t really know, just what Dustin told me, but we were on the road and my head was killing me and I panicked and- “

“Wait, wait, wait”, Jonathan interrupts him. “I think you’re better off asking Mike what happened, Nancy. He seemed a lot more coherent than Steve when he was talking to Will just now.”

Nancy sighs. “Yeah, probably. I’m sorry for screaming, Steve. I was just worried and … too quick to judge.”

“It’s fine”, Steve tells her.

“I’ll go look for them”, Nancy says it Jonathan more so than Steve, which makes sense, because they’re dating now. Steve looks away and tries not to be bothered by the way her eyes turn soft when she looks at Jonathan.

After Nancy leaves, neither of them talks. What is Steve supposed to say to the new boyfriend of his ex-girlfriend? He wishes he could tell him “you took her away from me, this is your fault, I hate you”. But none of that is true. Nancy wasn’t taken from him, it wasn’t Jonathan’s fault, and Steve most definitely didn’t hate him. Even though he kind of wishes he did.

Jonathan was just so good. He was kind and sweet to the people he liked, he was hardworking and protective, he was a good caretaker, and he fit to Nancy so well. He complimented her, almost, made her shine next to him. Steve hadn’t been able to do that. Instead, he had held her back by telling her that they couldn’t do anything, he should’ve known that Nancy was smart enough to find a way.

Steve can’t help but find it unfair how Jonathan was allowed to be an omega next to her, something that had always been denied to him. It made him angry, frustrated, but that wasn’t Jonathan’s fault either.

“How are your wounds?”, Jonathan asks and pulls Steve out of his thoughts.

“What? Oh, yeah. Fine, I guess. I think the pups tried to fix me up while I was unconscious”, he tells him. The light from the kitchen was just a tad too bright, which gave him a headache, and really, everything hurt.

“Want me to clean them? You’re kind of like, covered in that stinky upside-down stuff.”

“What?”, Steve asks again, a bit slow to comprehend Jonathan’s words. Jonathan Byers, fixing up his, Steve Harrington’s, wounds? In what sort of parallel universe did he end up here?

“We have a first aid kit in the bathroom”, Jonathan tells him, already turning to walk there. Steve is too shocked to say anything and just follows him there, almost mindlessly. Maybe Billy Hargrove beat his brain into mush.

Jonathan tells him to sit down on the toilet, which Steve gladly does, anything is better than leaning against the wall again. He watches as Jonathan pulls out a big first aid kit and grabs a bowl of warm water and a wash cloth.

“Why are you doing this?”, he finally asks when Jonathan offers him painkillers and a glass of water to swallow them down. His voice is quiet, and the words are still a bit slurred. He thinks if he laid down now, he’d fall asleep immediately. “You hate me.”

“I don’t hate you”, Jonathan corrects him. “I don’t particularly like you. But I don’t want you to die from an infection or rabies. And it’s good to have something to distract myself with. Mom’s already fussing over Will, so he’s overwhelmed enough.”

Steve nods and sits still as Jonathan begins cleaning the blood off of his face. Jonathan is surprisingly good at this, gentle and careful. Despite the pain, Steve is almost enjoying this. But that might also be because Jonathan is completely covered in his scent, he’s still wearing that sweaty white t-shirt, and it’s like a wonderful attack on Steve’s nose. Especially after Billy’s scent earlier.

“Your scent is nice”, Steve says, and wants to slap himself right after. Jonathan stops in his movements for a moment. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine”, Jonathan replies, slowly. “I didn’t expect to hear that. Especially not from you.”

Steve nods. He had never had a reputation for being nice. Except for maybe the girls he was interested in at that moment. “I’m nice, though. Or I try to be.” Jonathan doesn’t say anything, just continues washing off Steve’s face. “Like, I listened to that band you liked and I like it, too.”

“What?”, Jonathan stops again, now fully taking the cloth away from Steve’s face to stare at him instead.

“We talked in the cafeteria that one time, and you told me what you were listening too. And a bit later, when I was at the record store, I bought a cassette tape. Oh, and I got another one the employee recommended. I think it’s called The Clash?” Jonathan’s eyes only get wider at that story. Steve wants to know why, but his head hurts when he thinks about it too much. The lights above the mirror are just so bright.

“You like The Clash?”, Jonathan asks.

“Yeah”, Steve answers. “Not right now, though. My head hurts.” Maybe it’s the pain killers that make talking so easy, or maybe it’s Jonathan’s scent, or maybe it’s because of how tired he is.

“Right”, Jonathan mumbles, and carefully peels off the bandages that the pups put on his face earlier. Steve can’t help flinch when they pull at his skin. “Still can’t believe that, though.”

“My favourite is Death or Glory”, Steve tells him, and yawns. God, he’s so tired. He wants to go to bed, no, scratch that, he wants his nest. Oh, he misses his nest. He’s tempted to just pull off the patch on his neck, before Jonathan touches his chin to put on a new bandage, and he remembers where he actually is. What the fuck is he doing? Why can’t he control himself?

It only takes a few more minutes for Jonathan to finish putting the last few bandages on Steve’s face. Steve puts quiet while Jonathan spreads a cooling ointment over the bruises on his eyes and head. Afterwards, Jonathan washes out the bowl and the dirty water runs down the drain. For a moment, they just stand there, not quite looking each other in the eye.

“About Nancy…”, Jonathan starts, but Steve is quick to interrupt him. He doesn’t want to talk about Nancy, not right now, not with her new boyfriend, certainly not with her new omega boyfriend.

“It’s okay”, he says, just like he told Nancy a few hours earlier. The lie doesn’t come as easily, but it works anyways. “I’m serious. It’s fine. Nothing to worry about.”

Jonathan nods as he packs the supplies back into the first aid kit and places it under the sink. The tap drips slowly. Outside, he hears a car, and then the pups running down the hallway. Probably Hopper. Steve watches Jonathan work. The sweet scent surrounds him, he almost wants it closer.

He swallows. “Do you think me and Nance killed Barbara?”, he asks, and yes, those are definitely the painkillers.

“What?”, Jonathan asks, but Steve can’t stop now. He wants to wipe his eyes, because there are tears gathering there once more, but they hurt the moment his finger grazes the skin.

“Nancy said we killed her. At the party.”

Jonathan doesn’t say anything for a moment. Maybe he’s thinking that Steve is so stupid for asking that question, or maybe he thinks that Steve is actually a murderer. Steve notices that his eyes hurt from the tears leaving them, too.

“I don’t think so”, Jonathan says, though. “I mean, I was there too.” Steve can see Jonathan’s Adams apple bop as he swallows. “And she was just gone, from one moment to the next. I don’t think anybody could’ve done anything about it, really.”

Steve nods slowly.

“She probably just wishes that she and you had done something differently. I do, sometimes, too, and Will came back. Unlike Barb.”

“What could you have done differently?”, Steve asks, careful.

“The night that Will went missing, I was supposed to be home. But I took a double shift at the cinema and I got home late, and I didn’t even check on him because I was really fucking tired, and then this year he gets taken again even though I tried to look out for him, and I’m not even here because I did that whole thing with Nancy- “

“That’s not your fault. If it’s not ours that Barb got taken, this isn’t yours, either”, Steve interrupts him. Jonathan is staring at him again. “I think you’re a pretty great brother. If that means anything.”

Jonathan takes a moment to reply. “Thanks.”

“You should talk to Nancy about that, maybe. You two understand each other.” He gets up, but the sudden movement makes his head turn and he almost falls over, if it wasn’t for Jonathan grabbing his arm and holding him up until he could see the world straight again. Jonathan’s hand is warm, Steve feels cold as he lets go.

“You’re not a murderer”, Jonathan tells him, quietly. It feels real and honest, because his scent is just as warm and comforting as it was a moment ago. Steve feels like he can believe him. He wants to believe him.

“Thanks”, he answers before he leaves the room on careful steps, one hand on the wall.

Hopper ends up driving them all home, him, Lucas, Dustin and Max and Billy. Steve is the third person he drops off, Max and Billy being the last, because apparently Hopper wants to talk to their father. Steve watches the car drive away into the dark. His own car is still parked on the street by the Henderson’s house, he’ll have to walk there later today or some time tomorrow to pick it up. Now, though, he barely has strength left to drive up the stairs, there’s no way he’ll live if he tries to drive now.

His parents aren’t home, they already left for Miami on Saturday. Something about missing the summer, and of course, whatever business there was too attend there. Maybe his father’s secret second family and his mother’s young affair or some similar dumb shit.

Steve just barely manages to get out of his clothes and slip into a t shirt and a pair of sweatpants before he buries himself under the covers. He knows he needs to shower, but he’s pretty sure he’d pass out if he did that now. He needs to wash these sheets anyways, because his hand immediately moves to the back of his neck to peel of his scent patch.

With the soft vanilla scent filling the room, Steve’s brain feels like mush once more. And when he pulls his blanket, the one from Karen with the reindeers, his childhood teddy and the two newest items in his nest-collection for which he will feel so damn ashamed for when he wakes up, closer, it seems almost okay. Nancy’s sweater is just so soft and Jonathan’s scarf smells so good, Steve couldn’t help but grab them from where they were laying on the couch. If they get to have each other, then he gets to have this small thing. 

November 9, 1984.

Steve takes three days off to lie in his bed and contemplate everything that had happened. He tells himself that it’s because he wants nobody at school to see his beat-up face and therefore waits until it looks halfway normal again, but that’s not the complete truth. Mainly, he’s avoiding Nancy and Jonathan. He doesn’t want to see them together in the halls, he doesn’t want to sit alone in the cafeteria and he doesn’t want them to notice how much it’s affecting them that they’re dating and that they just fit together. He wants to fit to Nancy.

Also, when there’s no apocalypse barely avoided and no more highs on painkillers, he feels embarrassed for what he told Jonathan and even more embarrassed for just taking their things without a second thought. What the fuck was he doing that night?

Steve knows he should give them back, but he doesn’t really want to. His nest is the one thing that makes these days, with the headaches and nightmares just a little bit more bearable, and their things very much contribute to that. He might’ve barely left it the last few days, but nobody needed to know that.

He has to get back to school at some point though, and he’ll also have to disassemble his nest and do some sort of cleaning session, because his parents are returning on the weekend and they can’t get a whiff of it.

So, on Friday, he gets out of bed early to take a shower with the expensive scent neutralizing soap his father buys and, for the first time in days, puts a scent patch on. The drive to school is filled with music, neither the Misfits or the Clash though, because those make him think of Jonathan too much.

Lessons go by slowly. He decides to skip basketball the moment he sees Billy grin at him in his second period Algebra class, even though Billy also looks roughed up sufficiently. Steve’s pretty sure that wasn’t all him, though he can’t be sure. He doesn’t really care for basketball right now, anyways. He thinks about it throughout the entire lesson, and if he’s quite honest with himself, he hasn’t cared for basketball in a long time.

He tries to care about what the teachers talk about. It’s already hard in the morning because he’s constantly getting distracted by the smallest noises, but halfway through the day his headache is back, just like it was the last few days. He hopes it’ll not be as present next week, he has to submit that stupid early admissions essay there and it’s still not finished.  

Basketball is his last lesson after lunch, so he decides to just skip lunch entirely and drive back home instead. Next-week-Steve will have to deal with eating alone.

He sees Jonathan in the hallway when he walks out of the classroom and slips back inside for just a moment. He’s not sure why, because Jonathan has never talked to him in school before last weekend, at least not on his volition. Why would he start now? But Steve waits another minute anyways before he walks out to leave.

On the way, he stops by his locker to dumb all his books except for English in there, because while he doubts that it’ll help him with his essay in any way, it’s worth a try. Something needs to go right, at least.

Steve is about to close his locker and walk over to his car, when someone taps him on the shoulder. He flinches. “Sorry”, Nancy says as he turns around. She smiles apologetically. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s fine”, he answers, which seems to be his usual reply these days. It’s just as much of a lie as any other day. He doesn’t want to talk to Nancy, but of course she had to find him here. “What do you need?”

“Can we talk?”, she asks. “Not here, maybe.” Steve nods and follows her.

They end up leaning against the hood of his car. It’s gotten colder, there’s supposed to be a storm on the weekend, but at least it doesn’t agitate his headache even more. The sky is grey, so it’s not as bright as in the classrooms, either.

“How have you been doing? You know, with everything.” Like he could forget it. Nancy looks so at him so carefully though, he can’t be mad at her. “You weren’t in school the last few days.”

“Yeah, you know, my face was even more blue and purple than it is today”, he answers, which is at least part of the truth. “But I’m okay. What about you?”

“It’s getting better. Since the gate is closed and everything, it feels a bit more over than before. And Will is doing better too, Jonathan says.”

He nods. “Tell him get well from me if you see him.” Hopefully the other pups are doing better, too. Dustin had told him that he was feeling better when Steve picked up his car there on Tuesday, so that’s something, at least.

“I will”, Nancy says. She stops for a moment, her hands nervously holding onto the strap of her shoulder bag. “You know, I wanted to… apologize.”

Steve raises an eyebrow. “For what?”

“I lied to you, and that wasn’t okay. I shouldn’t have done that, and I definitely shouldn’t have told you that way. That was… really shit.” She looks at him now, actually, and not at the gravel in front of her feet. “I did love you, you know? You were there for me and you went to all those dinners with Barb’s parents and you always tried to listen- “

“I want to apologize, too”, he interrupts her. Nancy stays quiet, waiting. “For… holding you back. I thought there was no way we could make this better, or help the Hollands, but you… you managed that, somehow. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have just shut you down.”

“Thank you. I didn’t want us to end like that”, she whispers, slowly. Steve hadn’t wanted that, either. “Maybe, we could start over, you know. As friends.”

Steve wishes he could say yes to that, because it would mean that he could at least have some part of Nancy. A piece of Nancy was better than no Nancy at all, right? He knew he couldn’t take that, though. He still wanted to kiss her, and he still wanted to say “I love you” and he still wanted to lie on her bed and look into her big, brown eyes and imagine a disgustingly perfect life for them.

“Not now, Nance”, Steve answers her, voice quiet. “I need some time.”

“Right. That’s okay”, Nancy says, but he watches as she goes back to staring at the gravel. “I just wanted to tell you that I’m sorry that I lied to you, and I’m sorry that I called you a murderer. I didn’t mean that, I was blaming myself for Barb’s death and then I blamed you and I didn’t want to hurt you like that. You’re really important to me.” But I don’t love you goes unsaid. Nancy’s still looking at the ground, before she gets up from her place on the hood of his car. “Barb’s funeral is next Sunday. If you’re free.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure”, he nods. “I’ll be there.”

Nancy smiles, careful and shy in a way he hasn’t seen her in a year or longer. “Well, I’ll see you then, I guess.”

Steve nods. “I’ve got to go now.” He could stay longer, probably. He doesn’t want to. He needs this to end and spend at least an hour or two more in his nest to recover from this conversation and cry into the covers. He has been doing that an awful lot these last few days.

“Bye, Steve”, Nancy waves before she walks back down towards the school. Steve doesn’t wave back, and instead hurries to get into his car and drive away.

Why can’t he just hate her? Her and Jonathan, too. It would make everything so much easier. But there was no anger to be found anywhere inside of him. She’d even apologized, though it didn’t make the whole situation hurt any less. It feels unfair, that they get to be happy and that Jonathan gets to be an omega with Nancy, but it’s not their fault that Steve is still stuck pretending.

Steve does get home and lays in his nest until the late afternoon, when he goes to wash his sheets and spray scent neutralizer over the whole house. He hides the scarf and t-shirt in a box under his bed, though. He thinks about giving them back, secretly of course, but can’t bring himself to let go off them. He justifies it as an act of rebellion, against who, he doesn’t know.

December 3, 1984.

Steve hadn’t been particularly surprised when Dustin Henderson called him on Sunday afternoon. The pups had asked him a few times over the last few weeks if he could either drive them somewhere or if he could come over while their parents had to work. He had grown closer with them, especially Dustin, whose mom was working to support them both and therefore often came home late. The pup had taken a liking to letting Steve invite him to the cinema or some fast food chain.

What he had been surprised by was when Dustin told him that his mother had to work tomorrow, would Steve go buy a suit for the snowball with him? That seemed a lot more serious than taking the kid out for a happy meal so that he could get some figurine he liked.

He said yes anyways, because Steve Harrington didn’t really have friends anymore except for this pup that liked to cling to him. And now he’s parking in front of Hawkin’s middle school, smiling at the pup climbing into his car. “Hello, buddy”, he grins.

Dustin is smiling just as big, if not more. Over the whole drive, Steve listens to the pup tell him what new things they learned in Mr. Clarks science class today. He doesn’t remember learning half of that, but Dustin has shown to be surprisingly good at explaining it. He’s about to start an explanation on how there is a space craft currently on its way to the outer part of the solar system, when Steve shuts him down. He gets headaches when people talk too fast. Though recently, he has been getting headaches from pretty much everything.

“Alright, alright, you really like that space ship- “, he starts.

“Space craft”, Dustin corrects him immediately. “Spaceships are carrying people, spacecrafts are not.”

“Whatever, whatever”, Steve says, stopping at the red light. “Shouldn’t you focus on our task at hand here? You want a nice suit for your dance. Where should we look for that?”

“Can we go to the small shop next to the bookstore? Lucas told me all about how they bought his suit there and it looks really good. I wish we had gotten there first”, Dustin tells him. The last sentence he mumbles with a frown on his face.

“I’m sure we’ll find a great one”, Steve tries to make him feel better. “Especially with your hair plans, you know? You’ll be the best-looking guy around, buddy.”

Dustin grins next to him. “I’ll be the best-looking guy around”, he repeats, more to himself.

“You will be. You’ll get all the girls, bud.”

Dustin’s smile gets wider. “All the girls.” He does that weird purr that he had taken a liking too, though Steve isn’t sure what the point of that is. To his ears, it just sounds like the new cat the Henderson’s have. Cat probably isn’t the best way to go.

“Ah, buddy, you don’t need that”, he answers as the traffic light finally turns green. “You really don’t need that.”

Dustin looks a bit deflated for a moment and Steve is about to apologize because by god, he cannot stand seeing the pup sad. Or any of them, for that matter. They’ve already been through enough with the upside-down stuff, Steve knows that Dustin gets nightmares occasionally, so now he can’t help but want to protect him from everything else.

It’s nice, though. To have someone looking up to him, who always smiles brightly when Steve buys him popcorn or watches a movie with him and tells him how cool his hair looks. He hasn’t had that in a long time, and having it from someone who seems all sweet and honest still, Steve can actually believe it for once.

Luckily, Dustin gets distracted from Steve disliking his cat-noise rather quickly. “Can we get a slushie before, Steve? I want a red one, please!”, he asks, pointing to the diner just a few houses down the street. “Then I’ll have enough energy to choose the best suit. With a bow tie, mom says those are the best.”

“Fine”, Steve answers, already putting on the turn signal. “But only this once.” They both knew it wouldn’t be just this once. Steve didn’t mind, though. He liked making Dustin and his friends happy, and if that meant spending his money on slushies, so be it.

December 28, 1984.

Last year, Steve had been the loneliest he’d ever been. This year, he was new kind of lonely. Where he didn’t even have Nancy, who he had barely talked ever since Barb’s funeral. Where he just had a few thirteen-year-olds asking him for rides or hangouts occasionally.

At least he wouldn’t be alone on New Years eve, because after visiting him once and seeing that he had a heated pool, Dustin had convinced the party, as they called themselves, that they should hold their annual New Years campaign at Steve’s house instead of in Mike’s basement. Steve had agreed, of course. Because he couldn’t really deny Dustin, or any of the pups for that matter, anything, but also because he really didn’t have anything better to do. He tries not to dwell on how sad that sounds.

His parents had been home for Christmas, they had gone to a fancy Christmas dinner with his grandparents in Indianapolis, but they were gone again over New Years. So, just like last year, Steve had pulled off his scent patch and build himself a nest in his room. He’d have to clean the rest of the house and lock his room when the pups came over, but that was worth the few nights of good sleep.

He had even gone so far as to rearrange his room and place his bed in a corner, it just felt more secure that way. Like this, he didn’t have a view onto the pool from his bed. Also, the mattress was softer than his first nest in the closet had been.

It wasn’t perfect, though. His nest was nice, comfortable and secure, but something was missing. Because when Steve pulls Nancy’s shirt or Jonathan’s scarf close, it just smells like vanilla. There’s nothing left of the original scent that made him want it, now it’s just him. Only him. It doesn’t help the lonely feeling, just makes it worse.

Steve had tried adding something from his mother to the nest, but it didn’t have the same effect. For once, his mother’s scent was incredibly similar to his, just a tad sweeter. But also, it just didn’t feel as safe. Jonathan and Nancy could fight, could hold a gun and get rid of those monsters that Steve dreamed off every other night, but his mother couldn’t do that.

He can’t think of another way to fix this except for somehow getting his hands on another article of clothing from them, but there’s no way that’s possible. So, he’s stuck like this, all alone. His vanilla scent turns sour if he thinks about it too much.

Steve just… doesn’t want to be the only person in his nest. He wants someone to hug, and cuddle, just someone, anyone, at all. God, he feels so omegan when he says that. But that’s okay, right? He is an omega, he can feel like one, even if his father doesn’t like it. Sometimes he has to remind himself of that, still.

But there’s nobody he can ask to enter his nest. The only person that comes to his mind is Dustin, and he can’t put the burden of his secret on the pup just so that he can have someone here with him. He doesn’t even know if Dustin would want that. They’re friends, of course, at least that’s what Dustin told him. Steve can’t quite believe that the pup wants to be friends with him and doesn’t just see him as a driver or a babysitter, though it made him undeniably happy.

Sometimes, he can’t help but get jealous when he drops Dustin back off at his house, and sees his mother and him hug and smile and be an actual family. He wishes his mother had been more like that. Steve thinks they used to cuddle when he was younger, but now he knows, his mother wouldn’t let him take off the scent patch either. Not with the looming threat of his father above them.

Not that she’s home for him to ask, anyways.

At the same time, he wishes he had someone like Dustin, as well. He dreamt of it recently, on Christmas night, of a small puppy looking up to him and running to him after kindergarten and sitting on his lap while they’re watching a movie and laughing while playing on the swings. And god, he wants that so bad.

A year ago, children had been nothing more than a background thought. Something that had always been expected from him. Grow up, get a good job, get a wife, have kids. He’d never really wanted them, just thought, oh yeah, I guess that’ll happen. But the more time he spent with pups and the more time he spent alone, the more he wanted children.

Steve still isn’t quite sure what exactly he should do after school. He is sure that he won’t get into any of the schools his father had chosen for him and even if he did, he didn’t really care for them. But at least he had something he wanted now, something to dream off and look forward too.

He wanted a puppy, or maybe even two, and he wanted to care for them like he had wanted to be cared for. He’d nest with them, he’d help them with their homework even if he’d barely understand it himself, he’d walk to the playground with them and make sure to hold them if they got hurt there. And he wouldn’t leave them alone for days and they wouldn’t have to be scared of him. And they could choose their own future and it wouldn’t matter if they were an omega or an alpha or a beta, because he’d love them anyways.

Steve doesn’t notice that he has been crying until the tears drip down onto his nose. He grabs the corner of the blanket to wipe them off, sniffling a few times. The vanilla scent isn’t sour anymore, instead it’s all sweet and warm, surrounding him like a blanket. It smells almost like a freshly baked cake, just out of the oven and dusted with a layer of powdered sugar. He likes it even more than the usual notes of his scent. It even makes him smile and think of all the birthday cakes he can make for his puppies. One day, hopefully, he’ll get to do that.

Maybe being an omega isn’t so bad, Steve thinks. Maybe it does actually fit him.