Chapter Text
Between giant monsters with no face and getting a little extra growly throughout the month, Steve’s life has been pretty shit.
(Once upon a time, Steve would think he had it pretty good, but now all he can think about is not crawling into a corner and crying whenever he smells Nancy’s lingering scent. Which is just another issue he has to deal with. Stupidly good senses.)
He’s managing it, though, already thinking about plans to make it up to her, for whatever he did. He wouldn't be lying if he said he didn't consider it, spilling his biggest secret to a drunk Nancy. Try to explain that losing Barb broke him too - how he couldn't even step out into his backyard without gagging from the faint smell of blood that permeated the air.
Unfortunately for him, his awesome plan to win Nancy back (giving her flowers and maybe begging on his knees at her feet?) is cut short by a very feisty middle schooler. Steve has really only heard of Dustin Henderson from Nancy, who would sometimes mention him whenever the kid tried to be friendly with her. He didn't really understand why she would take offense to a kid just trying to be nice, but Steve had given up on understanding what goes on in Nancy’s head at that point.
But now, with Dustin snapping his fingers in front of Steve’s face, asking if Jonathan bashed his head in too hard or something, Steve understands Nancy a little better.
Steve snaps out of it, “Woah woah- hey, Jonathan didn’t- wait, you know about that?”
Dustin groans, opening Steve’s passenger side door. “No time! I was asking if you still had the nail bat.”
“What are you doing?” Steve reaches out to prevent Dustin from getting further into the car. “What about my bat?” Jonathan’s bat, really. But he hadn’t argued when Steve threw it into his trunk and left it there.
“I’ll explain it on the way to my house, now let’s go!” Dustin shrugs out of Steve’s grip, sliding into his car, like he’s done it a thousand times.
Steve’s starting to think he’s a bit of a pushover, but it doesn't stop him from mumbling about bossy children as he hops in and starts the engine.
-
“I don’t think it's in there, man,” Steve grumbles, hitting the door to the cellar with his bat. If he didn't have such a keen nose, he would've even accused the kid of wasting his time and lying, but the putrid smell that reminds him of gasoline-soaked carpets and faulty wiring tells him that there certainly was something in there.
He knows for sure that his little pet (Bart? Dart?) isn’t even nearby, as he can only hear his and Dustin’s heartbeats in the area. If he really focused, he could hear his next-door neighbor’s as well.
It sets him at ease, knowing there’s no active danger, but Dustin doesn't know that, and it’s fun to hear his heart jump whenever he bangs his bat on the metal.
“You got a key?”
-
Okay, so there's good news and bad news.
Bad news: Dart is for sure not here.
Good news? Dustin has a plan to lure him out.
Steve thinks it's a really stupid idea to try to lure out what might be a baby Demogorgon, but Dustin is really adamant about impressing this girl he likes, and who is Steve to discourage young love?
(Even if said young love now has Steve and three middle schoolers trapped in a junkyard with a pack of creatures clawing their way through metal to try and eat them.)
He’s bashing in clingy claws from getting in any further when he hears hearts jump, followed by Max screaming. Secrets be damned if he’s gonna let any of his kids get hurt. He’s pushing through the kids with speed and strength he hopes none of them notice, toning it down a bit to push Max behind him as he stares down one of Dart’s brothers. He is thankful for the life-threatening situation that keeps the kids' eyes on the creature instead of Steve’s own mouth, which had teeth that were growing sharper. He’s barely able to contain his growl in response to the Demo’s.
Distantly, he hears an alarm, something to the south of the junkyard, and the Demo seems to notice it too, head snapping towards it.
It's eerily silent as the Demos pull away from them, claws scraping the top of the bus as they scurry off.
“..What happened?”
“Maybe Steve scared ‘em off?” Steve’s a little flattered, but with distant sirens, he knows they didn’t back off because of him.
“No, no way. They’re going somewhere.” Where that is, he doesn’t know.
-
The kids are arguing, which Steve thinks is going to become a pretty common occurrence. Max is freaking out, because that was definitely not a dog, and Dustin is looking at Steve with admiration and what looks like.. curiosity? It’s a lot to unpack, but Steve’s too busy trying to keep himself from wolfing out. His teeth are still feeling a little too sharp, and the sound of the kid’s heartbeats is giving him a headache, while simultaneously helping him calm down. The shitheads are safe; he didn’t let them get eaten.
They’re safe.
It’s a mantra that he repeats in his head as he evens out his breathing, and finally peels his hand off the handle of his bat.
He’s about 70% calm before it goes eerily quiet, and then Dustin gasps.
“Steve! Y-Your leg!” Steve’s own heart almost jumps out of his chest, having already snatched his bat back before he relaxes. Can these kids stop with the screaming already?
“Jesus, Henderson! What?”
Dustin stutters, fingers shaking towards Steve’s leg. Looking down, Steve sees a gash in his jeans and the red that stains it. It must have happened by the door, when it was getting too awkward to swing the bat in the cramped bus, so he started using his feet. It doesn’t really look so bad, at least not enough for Dustin to be acting like his leg was about to fall off.
“Seriously? Relax, you guys, I’m fine! Besides, it’ll-” heal is what Steve wants to say, but the entire point of keeping a furry secret was not telling literal children to not worry about his open wound because in about twenty minutes it'll be like it was never there. Sadly for him, the shitheads he’s stuck with are smart ones, and Dustin catches him immediately.
“It’ll what, Steve?” The shithead asks, shining his flashlight into Steve’s face and blinding him.
“Shouldn’t we like, wrap it? Did any of you think about bringing a first-aid kit?” Max is rambling, already taking charge, and talking more than she has all night.
(Well, he did hear her and Lucas's cute little conversation up on the roof, but it didn’t involve him, so he doesn’t count it.)
Dustin is saying he saw one in Steve’s car, while Lucas berates him for not bringing it with them to the junkyard.
“Hey, shitheads!” He yells, catching their attention. “Relax, I’m fine-”
“No,” Dustin cuts him off. “It needs to be disinfected, Steve! What if those things had like, Demo-rabies!?”
Seriously, do these kids ever stop stressing out?
“Henderson, trust me. It’s fine.” And it doesn't even hurt! He turns towards the other two, “I’m fine. We’ve got bigger things to worry about, right?”
Dustin doesn't look like he wants to give it up, but thankfully, Lucas steers them back on track.
“Steve’s right, we need to find out where they're going!” It spurs the kids back into a heated debate, chattering along as they do another sweep of the junkyard before exiting the bus.
Max and Steve are the last ones out, watching the two best friends argue without a care in the world.
She’s clearing the last step before she turns to stare at Steve.
“Uh, you need something, Red?” Her staring is honestly starting to creep him out.
“I just- thank you.” It’s said so fast, and so quiet Steve barely catches it, but she’s darting off to join the boys before he can respond.
Ah, kids.