Chapter Text
“Hey, hey! What the hell do you think you are doing?!”
“It’s my car!” the redheaded girl howls back at him.
Steve had not even seen her get into the car. How the hell did she get to the driver’s seat so fast? And why, for the love of God, did they all have to yell so much? It took every bit of strength he still had in him not to snap right there.
“No, no, it is not” he answers, standing by the open door while the rest of the boys climb into the backseat of the already busted Camaro, noise filling the otherwise silent pumpkin patch. “It’s your psychotic brother’s ca-“
“He is not my brother!” another shout.
“Now” he continues forcibly, because, really! “For the sake of the heart attack I’m trying to avoid, move over, Red”.
She stares at him, fuming.
“My name is Max!”
“Guys, guys! We have to go!” it is Lucas, also yelling.
Steve’s hand makes its way to his forehead, but stops mid-motion. Pinching his forehead between his thumb and forefinger would only make the pain in his head worse. He settles for a glaring contest with the girl, wondering for the millionth time that day how on Earth did he end up here.
“Fine!” she acquiesces at last, moving to the passenger seat, still bristling.
As he sits, positioning his bat beside him on the seat, Dustin, sitting behind him, taps his shoulder twice. He has to fight the will to wince. Steve could feel the adrenaline leaving his body in quiet waves. His chest now ached every time he took a deeper breath, his face felt even more bloated and his grazed knuckles burned like blisters.
Right. He closes his eyes, putting his hands on the wheel. He just needs a moment to bring his thoughts back together.
Do you still have that bat?
King Steve!
CLOSE GATE
Do you love me?
It’s bullshit!
Abort! Abort!
He is going to kill me! He is going to kill us!
You’re bullshit!
Eleven!
Mike…
I’m a pretty damn good babysitter.
The destruction of our world as we know it.
Light her up!
No one tells me what to do!
It’s okay, Nance. It’s okay.
So keep us safe.
Steve. Steve!
“Steve!”
He opens his yes, for a moment forgetting the kids are still in the car. Four pairs of eyes bore into him.
“You okay in there, buddy?” Dustin asks.
“He is freaking out again…” Mike utters, impatient.
“No one is freaking out, okay” Steve regains his voice, starting the car. He needs to keep busy, keep the adrenaline flowing “Let’s go”.
There are no lights surrounding them and, after the Camaro headlights had flicked so brightly it had been borderline otherworldly just minutes ago, everything seemed darker. Silence had – finally – fallen upon them. The atmosphere inside the car, though, is thick with restlessness. Red (Max!) looks out the window, her arms unconsciously hugging herself. Steve can hear Dustin cracking his knuckles while Lucas cringes every time he does it. Mike, sitting in the middle, keeps jittering his leg, rubbing his hands together. The furrowed brows, the tormented look. The resemblance to Nancy is uncanny.
Nancy.
Nancy is going to skin him alive once she finds out they had left the house. Steve takes one side look at the girl beside him, taking in her scratched hands, the small bruise forming on her cheek, the murky dirt covering her from head to toe. He is sure the boys are in no better condition, making it impossible to hide their illicit adventure. Good intentions be damned.
He is such deep shit.
“Maybe…” Steve starts, running his hand through his hair while gripping the steering wheel harder with his other one “maybe I should just drive you all home. I mean, your parents, they must be worried sick…”
He trails off, wishing he didn’t sound so uncertain. He swears the look he gets from the four teens actually burns. They are, however, surprisingly silent.
And then…
“NO!”
Mike’s voice is thunderous; much more than Steve would have thought possible. He places one hand on the back of each front seat and, for a moment, Steve thinks he will lunge for his neck. The enraged statement is followed by a series of incomprehensible shouts from the others; the message, though, is quite clear.
“We are not going anywhere that is not back to Will’s house!” Lucas’ voice stands out.
“We can easily make you faint again, you know?” Max threatens, scowling, crossing her arms in front of her chest, her eyes giving Steve a once-over that is both ridiculous and scary. And, despite Steve’s indignant glower in response, he is not so sure the threat is all that empty.
“No one is going to make anyone faint, alright, because Steve here is driving us back to the Byers’, right Steve?” Dustin asks, his face showing up right beside his head, looking at his friends expectantly. Max huffs, going back to staring out the window. Lucas nods to his friend and Mike still looks at him as if he could murder him with a stare. “And we are staying there until we make sure Will and Eleven are okay. Right, Steve?”
This time, his hand does come to his forehead, his fingers massaging his temple. It doesn’t make the migraine go away. He should know better with these kids.
“Is the Chief even going back there?” Max asks. Bewildered eyes look at her, as if she just grew another head. She seems surprised “I mean… it’s just… he’s hidden her before, right? Eleven, I mean… All this time… maybe… maybe he will just… keep her hidden…?”
There is silence again. Through the rearview mirror, Steve can see the boys looking intently at each other. The yelling seems far more appealing now.
“I heard Hopper say something about Denfield…” Dustin starts, voice low.
Shit.
“Okay, that’s it!” Steve shouts. “Enough with the crazy plans, okay! We’ve almost been killed too many times for one single day. The idea is to keep you safe! I can’t do that if you come up with new ways to get us killed every other hour. Now, we are going back to the Byers’, as you wanted, and we’ll stay there!”
“How can you be so selfish?!” Mike roars at him. And that…
That kind of hurts. More than he would dare to admit.
“That’s rich coming from you, you selfish little brat!” Steve grips the wheel harder, both hands now, because he is fuming, trying really hard to not let his hurtful anger make him topple the damn car on a curve.
Mike looks livid. The others just look dazed.
“What is that even supposed to mean?”
“You heard me! Selfish. Little. Brat. You were the one giving the Chief shit for doing the right thing. And now you are giving me shit for trying to keep you idiots away from trouble!” Steve is shouting, but thinks he sounds old. He feels old. The whole situation is ludicrous: he is having an argument with a thirteen-year-old about his own wellbeing in a car. Steve has never had to defend himself for actually doing the right thing. Not even in his weirdest dreams could he have foreseen this.
“You think keeping El hostage was the right thing?!” rightful indignation fuels Mike further.
“Keeping her safe, you mean?! Keeping us all safe! Giving her a place to hide from those government men that were all over the place hunting her down, you mean?!”
“She wanted to see me!” Mike spells every word hard, as if to state the truthfulness of the fact that surpasses everything else.
“Yeah, but she didn’t, did she?” they are raging war through the rearview mirror.
“Because he wouldn’t let her, you moron!”
Hot-headed, defiant little shit…
“Are we talking about the same girl that killed a pack of dog-demons just hours ago? Killed that goddamn monster last year? And you think poor old Jim Hopper would be able to stop her if she really wanted to do something? Are you being purposely obtuse?”
Steve lets the information sink, still observing the boy through the rearview mirror as he deflates a little and his stance changes from lethal to perplexed.
“She didn’t go see you because she wanted to protect you. She did the right thing. It’s time to stop being a selfish prick and grow up, Wheeler!”. His tone is harsh, harsher than Steve wanted it to be, but this kid is driving him nuts. Too smart, too volatile and too goddamn in love to see clearly. “Sometimes, staying away is the right thing to do.”
It’s a simple statement, and it had just blurted out of him as a way to put some sense into Mike’s thick head. Yet, as the declaration leaves his lips, the truth of it downs on him with the weight of a thousand planets.
Steve…
It’s okay, Nance. It’s okay.
“Hum… is this still about Eleven?” Lucas, silent so far, asks a bit awkwardly.
Steve takes a deep breath, stopping the car. Max raises her hands, visibly confused, but he chooses to ignore her. Why the hell did he decide to give a life lesson to these kids in the middle of the apocalypse? He turns, looking at them in the eyes.
“Look… I’m just trying to help here, okay. I thought I made that pretty clear. But… but I can’t if you are going to be antagonizing me all the damn time.” Mike looks, for the first time in the evening, a bit ashamed. “You care for her, you care for Will, I get that. I do, too. But I’m on the brink here, and I need a little hand so we can make it through the rest of this night in one piece”.
They are silent again. Dustin looks expectantly between Steve and his friends. Lucas and Max exchange one quick glance before they both nod slightly. Mike, however, stares intently at the floor of the car, tears welling up in his eyes.
It pulls a string on Steve’s heart.
“Hey” he reaches for him, hand on his shoulder, coaxing him to look up “I’m sorry, okay. It’s going to be fine. We are all going to be fine”.
The boy still has his head down. “You don’t know that…” he murmurs.
Smart kid, indeed.
“No, but I’ll find a way. Whatever it is, I’ll find a way. We are all going to be okay. I promise”.
That does get a reaction out of him. A tear-stained face stares right back at Steve. Hope and confusion and maybe just a tiny bit of annoyance reflected on those dark eyes of his.
“I promise” he repeats for good measure. But also because, Steve realizes, it is the truth. He will find a way.
Mike closes his eyes, takes a deep breath and nods.
“Okay” he sounds confident.
Dustin smiles, claps his hands before throwing an arm at Mike’s shoulder.
“Okay, we should get going, now. We are in the middle of nowhere, you know” Lucas remarks.
Max turns to the front again, and looks eagerly at Steve.
“Alright, shitheads… let’s go”.
The bruises suddenly don’t hurt so much. He thinks, actually, he might feel lighter.