Chapter Text
Steve isn't quite sure how long he lays there on his hands and knees, dry heaving.
But by the time he leans back on his haunches and wipes the tears from his eyes, the sun is setting over the quarry. The sky looks painted, brushstrokes of golden orange, bright pink, and the lightest blue melting together in the clouds. The light shines down onto the water below, making the surface glitter and sparkle.
It's so pretty.
Too pretty for what just happened here.
Steve squeezes his eyes shut and flinches as he sees the ruin of Neil's face projected on the back of his eyelids.
There's a reason that he hasn't let Baby take the wheel in so long.
Because something like that always happens.
And no matter how necessary it might be... Baby always takes things just a step too far.
Steve sighs as he opens his eyes again and looks at the view in front of him.
He takes a peek over the edge.
Thinks.
It would be so easy...
But no. He leans back, and like every other time that that thought pops into his head, he closes his eyes, breathes deeply, and waits for it to go away.
In, 2, 3, 4...
Because no matter how much he may want to do it... and he does want to do it... he can't.
Hold, 2, 3, 4...
Because if Steve does it, he'll take two others with him.
Out, 2, 3, 4...
He opens his eyes.
Steve may deserve it. Baby definitely deserves it.
But Miles doesn't.
Steve... doesn't know what's wrong with him. Doesn't even know if there's a name for his specific brand of crazy.
Technically... it's not even something that's wrong with him. It's something that's wrong with Miles. Steve is as much a product of... whatever's wrong with their brain as Baby is.
Steve wasn't here first. He wasn't even here second.
He remembers everything that Miles went through, everything that Baby learned in that first summer before moving to Hawkins, but... his first memory is of Carol's blushing face, staring down at her shoes in Mr. Templeton's classroom.
He isn't a person. He's a fucking bodysnatcher.
Steve doesn't know why he exists. If he truly even does exist.
But it doesn't matter.
He's here.
And he's got work to do.
He wipes his face one last time and grunts as he pushes himself to his feet, the muscles in his arms and legs trembling.
He turns his back to the cliff edge and snatches up the trashbags, throwing one over each shoulder.
And then Steve begins the long walk back to Loch Nora.
Steve grunts and grumbles as he walks along the side of the road down Kerley Boulevard, stumbling through the ditch next to the treeline.
He isn't really sure who to blame for his current predicament,
Baby, for ditching Neil's car instead of dropping the bags off at home first? (No, they couldn't risk anyone seeing Neil's car in Loch Nora before he disappeared.)
Himself, for telling Max to go to his house instead of having her wait for him at the quarry? For giving her the option of Code Atlanta in the first place? (No, he doesn't want her to be any closer to this whole situation than she already is. And as horrific as today was... he doesn't regret giving Max that option for a second. Who knows if she would've even come to him without it.)
Neil, for surprising him with a quarter of a million dollars and just being an all around complete piece of shit?
...Y'know what? Yeah, blaming Neil sounds pretty good right now. Fuck you, Neil.
Steve sighs and uses his aching arms to shift the trashbags into a more comfortable position. He winces as the nails of his bat poke through the bag and dig into his back.
He can definitely blame Baby for taking so many goddamn swings. Especially when he knew that he was literally going to leave Steve holding the bag(s).
Steve grumbles under his breath, "'Quit bitchin', Steve...' I'll bitch all I want, you goddamn psycho. You're not the one who has to walk all the way home carryi-"
He stops in his tracks as his good ear picks up a noise on the wind.
Is that... Jim Croce?
Steve startles as a car flies past him and then slams on the brakes, squealing to a stop twenty feet down the road.
His blood runs cold.
It's a Chevrolet Blazer. With a pair of red and blue lights on the roof.
You Don't Mess Around With Jim cuts off in the middle of the second verse as whoever is driving switches off the radio.
The reverse lights blink on.
Steve can't run, he's already been spotted and with how exhausted already he is, he wouldn't make it far, even if he dropped the trashbags.
So, he takes what little time he has to put on his absolute best poker face. Making sure to keep the wriggling eyebrow that Carol told him about frozen in place.
He takes one last deep breath as the truck approaches. Here we go...
The Blazer comes to a gentle stop next to him, window already rolled down.
"Harrington? What are you doing out here?" Hopper's mustachioed face asks him.
Steve bites back a giant sigh of relief. If it were any other cop, he'd be completely fucked. With Hopper, he has a chance. A slim chance, but still... a chance.
Now, c'mon, Steve. Lie. You were made to do it. You're literally a born liar. You did it for years. You're fuckin' good at it. You just have to lie. One more time. Just lie.
Lie.
...LIE.
Steve opens his mouth, his most believable and valid excuse for what he's doing locked and loaded.
What comes out is, "I don't wanna talk about it."
His grip on the trashbags is the only thing that keeps his one of his hands from flying up and smacking himself in the forehead as hard as he fucking can.
NOW!? NOW IS THE FIRST TIME YOU'RE DECIDING TO TRY THAT OUT!? ON HOPPER!?
Hopper raises an eyebrow and looks Steve up and down. Takes in his sweaty face, set in stone. The strange clothes and shoes. The trashbags.
"Get in the car, kid."
Steve swallows, "...I'd rather not."
Hopper's eyes narrow, "It wasn't an offer, Harrington. Get in the car."
Steve clears his throat and glances down the road. Takes a look over his shoulder towards the treeline and considers running one last time...
He sighs. Hopefully this won't be as bad as the back of that fucking station wagon.
Then, he walks up to the passenger door and yanks it open, tossing the bags in the floorboard and climbing in.
His skin immediately starts crawling.
Hopper studies him for a long moment as he puts on his seatbelt. Then he turns his eyes back to the road and starts driving again.
Steve's heart starts to race, beating faster as the speedometer climbs.
They're both silent for a few moments, Steve shuts his eyes tightly and tries to pretend that this isn't happening.
Hopper breaks the silence, "What's with the trashbags?"
Steve exhales a sharp breath through his nose, Well... if it worked once... "I don't wanna talk about it."
He hears the leather of the steering wheel squeak as Hopper tightens his grip, "I'm gonna need more than that, kid."
Steve crosses his arms to hide his shaking hands and pushes his luck, "Well, you aren't gonna get it."
Hopper whips his head toward him, "I think I am. I've been a cop for a long time, kid. You think I don't know what blood smells like?" Steve winces, "Doesn't help that you're walking down the road in a bloody jacket I know for a fact isn't yours."
What? Bloody jacket?
He opens his eyes, avoiding looking out of the windows, and his gaze lands on a couple of nails poking through the trashbag, dried blood rubbed off of the tips.
...God fuckin' dammit.
"So, what the hell did you do?"
Steve shuts his eyes again and chews the inside of his cheek as he considers his answer.
"...Nothin' you wouldn't have done."
Steve flinches as Hopper smacks a hand against the steering wheel, "We aren't talking about me right now, we're talking about you! What did you do?"
Guilt and panic mix together in his stomach, actually making him nauseous.
Steve takes a shaky breath and opens his eyes to look at Hopper, "Let me ask you somethin', Hop-"
"I'm asking the questions-"
His breath comes in short and uneven bursts.
"If Ellie had-"
A finger flies up in front of Steve's face, "Don't you dare bring up-"
His skin is burning hot and ice cold, all at once.
"If you had come home one day, and half of Ellie's face was purple and swollen, and her fuckin' eye was-"
"DO NOT-"
Sloughing off layer by layer.
"And her eye was completely red, vessels totally burst and you knew who did it, what would you do!?"
Hopper's mouth flattens into a thin line, "I don't know, why don't you tell me, Harrington?"
Leaving behind nothing but red fucking paste.
Steve scoffs, heart beating out of his chest, "You know exactly-"
"What did you do, Steve!?"
'If you ever hit him with that goddamn belt again, I'll slit your fuckin' throat you basta-' *CRUNCH*
Steve leans forward, trembling with rage, and snarls, his teeth gnashing, "FINE! YOU WANNA KNOW WHAT I DID!? I WENT TO NEIL HARGROVE'S HOUSE, CAVED HIS FUCKIN' SKULL IN, THREW HIS BODY IN THE TRUNK OF HIS CAR, AND SENT THE DAMN THING FLYING OVER THE EDGE OF THE QUARRY! THAT'S WHAT I FUCKIN' DID!"
Then he whips back around in his seat to stare out the window, stewing in anger.
Silence.
The anger quickly drains out of him.
Did... did he just...?
Then the panic falls away too. Until he just feels... numb.
Steve lets out a tiny hysterical giggle and brings his thumbnail up to his mouth to bite on it, "...You're wasted in Hawkins, y'know that, Chief? Jesus... got a confession out of me in less than a minute..."
Hopper ignores his rambling, "...So, the trashbags?"
Steve stares down absently at the trashbags between his feet. Well. It's over now anyway. Might as well. He tilts his head toward the radio, "'And when the cuttin' were done, the only part that wasn't bloody was the soles of the big man's feet.' Didn't think walkin' home painted red was a good idea, y'know?"
More silence.
Then, finally, "Why?"
Steve lets out a humorless snort, "Why do you think? Max!" Hopper goes silent again. Steve turns to glare at the side of his head, "C'mon, Hop. You knew. Cops always know. Especially in towns like this. 'Noise complaints.' 'Disorderly conduct.' 'Domestic disturbances.' You'll call it anythin' other than what it actually is. And you definitely won't do anythin' to stop it. Oh, you'll show up in the aftermath. Take a few notes and leave a card. But besides that? 'Sorry, Ma'am. Nothin' we can do.'" Steve leans back in his seat again and sneers as he looks out the window, "Well... I'm not a fuckin' cop. When I figured it out, I knew exactly how to stop it. And that's what I fuckin' did."
"...You sound like you're speaking from experience."
Steve snorts again, "'Course I fuckin' am. You have any idea how many times my Mama had to hear, 'Nothin' we can do'? How many goddamn cards she collected over the years? How many fuckin' times she answered the door with a black eye, and me, hidin' between her legs, my back still stingin' from that FUCKIN' BELT-" Steve gasps and has to hold back tears as a wave of emotion rises up and hits him like a goddamn truck. He takes a calming breath as he rubs at the scars on his forearms, "And every single time, those useless fucks would look her right in her swollen face and say, 'Sorry, Ma'am'... half the time they actually had the nerve to sound like they meant it too." Steve swallows, "Eventually, she just started lyin'. It was easier. Took up less time. 'Walked into a door.' 'Fell down the stairs.' 'Had an accident.' Y'know, the classics... Talkin' to 'em wasn't worth the fuckin' hassle anyway."
After that... silence reigns over the car again.
Steve looks out the window as they drive, watching the sunset filter through the passing trees.
He doesn't feel a thing.
Well... it was a good run. But...
A memory of Buddy whispers in his ear, 'You can't run forever, Baby!'
Can't run forever...
If he's gonna go down for somethin'... he's glad it was this.
'It was worth it... every fuckin' swing.'
...Too fuckin' right, Baby.
Steve furrows his brow as they blow past Randolph Way.
He mumbles under his breath, voice emotionless, "Missed your turn..."
Hopper clears his throat, "What?"
Steve looks over at him just as Hopper wipes his face, "You missed your turn."
Hopper clears his throat again, "Unless Loch Nora grew legs and moved since the last time I've been there, then I don't think I did."
Steve looks at him incredulously, "...You're not takin' me in?"
"Am I gonna get a call tomorrow that Neil Hargrove was found dead?"
"...No. M-Maybe a call from Susan that he's gone. I... I made it look like he just skipped town."
Hopper shrugs, "Doesn't sound like my problem then. No body. No evidence. No investigation." He looks Steve right in the eye as he bitterly concludes, "'Sorry, Ma'am, nothin' I can do.'"
Steve's face twists up as he slumps back in his seat, staring at Hopper in disbelief, "Hop... I-I don't... Tha-"
Hopper quickly shakes his head, "Don't. Don't." He takes a deep breath, seemingly to steel himself, "You're right... I would've done the same thing. I know what it's like... growing up with a father like that."
That doesn't surprise Steve one bit. Yet another son of Hawkins to add to the shitty fathers club... maybe Steve should start handing out membership cards or something.
Steve doesn't know how to respond. What do you say to someone who held your life in their hands and showed you mercy because they saw themselves in you?
...Words don't suffice, he supposes. So, he gives Hopper a tight nod and turns to rest his head against the window as they make the turn in to Loch Nora.
"So, what's in the other trashbag? Because it looked way too heavy to just be clothes."
Steve lets out a tiny laugh through his nose, "Some things that belong to Max. And that's all you're gettin' out of me this time, alright?"
Hopper shakes his head, but the corner of his mouth tilts up ever so slightly, "Fair enough."
They spend the rest of the drive in silence and in no time at all they're parked in front of Steve's house. He allows himself a small grin upon seeing his Beamer parked diagonally across the driveway, the front left tire edging onto the lawn.
They'll have to work a little harder on getting parking down.
Thanks to Hop... they'll actually be able to do it.
"Steve..." He looks over at Hopper, "I just want to say... If I had known, I would've done something."
Steve furrows his brow, "Shit, Hop... I was just... Angry when I said that, y'know? About my own shit. Neil was-"
Hopper cuts him off, "No, not about Neil. About you... Your Dad. I... I always knew he was an asshole but I never thought he was that kind of asshole."
...What?
Steve's eyes widen and his face pales, his head starts to list to the side as his heart rate spikes again. It takes every ounce of his self-control to keep Miles firmly pushed down and docile.
That's not... That isn't possible... How could he have...
"You... You knew my Daddy?" Falls out of his mouth completely involuntarily.
Hopper scoffs, "As well as anyone could ever really know that sociopath. I went to school with him. Same grade. Elementary through High School."
...Okay, Steve is really fucking confused now. His Daddy never left Georgia once in his entire life. And as far as Steve knows, Hopper grew up in Hawkins.
Wait...
"...What was he like? Back then?" Steve asks, digging for information.
Hopper sighs and scratches his face as he thinks, "Well... like I said, he was an asshole, he never could do much to hide that. He was smart though... really smart." Hopper lets out a snort, "Everybody in our damn grade knew that Danny Harrington was going to medical school to be a doctor. He wouldn't shut the hell up about it. How he was going to 'dodge the draft' at his Dad's alma mater in Atlanta... God, what a dick."
Steve's jaw drops.
Danny Harrington.
Medical school.
Atlanta.
Fucking Doc.
Hopper looks at him with confusion as Steve barks out a shocked laugh.
"Danny fuckin' Harrington..."
Hopper raises an eyebrow, "Kid?"
Steve shakes his head with a grin before looking back at Hopper. He studies him for just a moment.
"Hop, can you do me a favor?"
Hopper's eyebrow rises ever higher, "Alright...?"
Steve clears his throat, "There's a missing persons case in Atlanta... Miles Aaron Davis. Went missing... in the Fall of '75 if I remember rightly. Nine years old." God... has it really been almost ten years? Already? Only? "When you get a chance, just... take a look at it and let me know what you think. It might explain a few things."
Hopper looks nearly as confused as Steve probably just did a few seconds ago, but he nods, "Sure, kid. I can do that."
Steve nods back and pulls the handle, climbing out of the car. He lets out a tiny relieved sigh as he steps back onto solid earth. Then he snatches up the trashbags and goes to shut the door.
Hesitates.
"Hey, Hop?"
Hopper looks at him sternly, "Kid, if you're gonna try to thank me again-"
Steve cuts him off, shaking his head, "No, no, I just..." He looks away and sighs, "I'm only saying this because... I think I'd need to hear it if I were in your shoes." He looks back at Hopper, making sure to look him dead in the eye, "You aren't him. You're a good man. Ellie couldn't ask for a better father."
That seems to hit Hopper hard and he closes his eyes as he processes it. And Steve understands exactly why.
That same fear lives within all of them, deep in their souls, those proud members of the shitty fathers club.
That deep down... they're all just like the people who hurt them.
That they're all just one bad day and a drink away from becoming monsters.
For some of them it's true.
Billy's smirking face flashes across his vision.
Steve isn't sure whether it's true for himself yet. He hopes not.
But he knows for a fact that it isn't true for Hopper.
Hopper opens his now shining eyes, and his words seemingly failing him, gives Steve a tense nod.
Seeing that his words have landed, Steve hits Hopper with a playful glare, "You could stand to let her out of that goddamn cabin a little more often though."
Hopper lets out a wet laugh, "God, not you too. I already get enough grief from her and that little vampire she calls a boyfriend."
Steve grins, "Hey, I'm game for whatever pisses off that gangly little asshole. I'm just askin' you to find another way to do it, that's all."
Hopper snorts, "I knew I liked you for a reason, Harrington."
Steve feels his grin grow wider as he shuts the car door, "And here I thought it was because of my charmin' personality."
Hopper rolls his eyes, "Not on your life, kid." He takes a moment, then, "Listen... Next time you have one of those little get-togethers, I'll make sure she's there, okay? I promise."
Steve's face twists up a bit. It... honestly means a lot that Hopper would still trust him around Ellie after today.
"Sounds good, Chief. Tell her I said 'hi'." Then he points at Hopper sternly, "And that she better keep on practicing without me! I swear, if that girl can manage to find a good work ethic, she's gonna be the best shortstop Indiana has ever seen."
A proud smile lights up Hopper's face upon hearing that, "I'll make sure she gets the message." Hopper's face suddenly grows serious as he says, "Hey. Take care of yourself, okay, kid?"
Steve nods, "You too, Hop. I'll see you around."
Hopper nods back, "See you around."
Then he puts the Blazer in gear and drives off, Jim Croce blaring out of the speakers once again.
Steve waits until the truck disappears around the corner...
And then collapses to the ground, holding a hand against his chest as he hyperventilates.
Any other cop... and he would've been on death row before he could blink.
Steve may have been ready to accept that, but still, that doesn't mean he wasn't scared fucking shitless.
He always was good at putting on a brave face.
He gives himself just a minute to freak the fuck out, laying his forehead against the pavement as he tries to get his breathing under control.
'C'mon, Steve. The hard part's over. We're completely in the fuckin' clear. Got the Chief of Police on our side and everything. Even if he does change his mind, you didn't incriminate Max or Will. We're good. Just stand up and go inside.'
As much as it pains him to admit it, Baby's right. They did it. Got away with murder. Once again. He's not gonna throw it all away by having a breakdown in the middle of the street and letting one of his snobby neighbors call the cops on him.
Steve slowly makes his way to his feet and takes one last calming breath.
Just a couple things left to do. Then they're done.
He hitches the bags over his shoulders and walks up to his front door.
Steve elbows the handle down and tries to shove it open.
Locked.
Smart kids.
He twists to the side and nudges the doorbell with his hip. Then he waits.
Steve startles as the door opens a crack and a brown eye peeks out at him. Jesus, this kid really is fuckin' sneaky.
He gives Will a tiny smile, "Heya, Will. Wanna let me in?"
The door opens another few inches and Will looks up at him with wide eyes, "Oh! Steve! Uh, yeah, come on in!" Will cringes, Steve isn't sure why, and steps aside to open the door wide for him.
Steve walks through and drops the trashbags on the floor with a groan, shaking out his arms. He takes a look around the living room and finds Max sitting on the couch looking up at him with a wide eye, the bruised half of her face covered by a bag of frozen peas. She's wearing one of his sweaters. God... what is it with these girls and stealin' his fuckin' clothes?
There's a moment of tense silence.
Steve clears his throat and awkwardly gestures at the TV, "Damn... you guys are watchin' Blade Runner without me? That hurts, man."
Max continues to stare up at him.
Will leans his head into the corner of Steve's vision, "You like Blade Runner?" He asks curiously.
Steve gives him a smile, "Are you kiddin' me? It's a fuckin' masterpiece. I can quote the tears in rain speech word for word. Just ask Robin and Carol." Steve pauses, "On second thought, don't ask them. Never ask them anythin' about me actually. They're liars and frauds and anythin' they tell you about me is totally untrue."
Will bites his lips as he holds back a laugh, a light dusting of pink growing on his cheeks.
"So..." Steve's head snaps back towards Max, "It's, um...?"
The smile falls off of Steve's face as reality hits him again. He sighs, "Yeah. It's done. Just a couple more things to do." He turns back to Will, "You know how to start a fire?"
Will clears his throat and nods, "Yeah."
Steve picks up the lighter trashbag, "There's matches in the junk drawer in the kitchen. Head out to the backyard and get the firepit started up. Take this with you and wait for us." Will reaches out to grab the bag but Steve holds out a cautioning hand, "The nailbat's in here, so be careful, okay? Don't stick yourself."
Will reaches out again, much more carefully this time, "Got it." Then he's off, walking into the kitchen to grab the matches.
Steve hauls up the other trashbag and looks at Max, then tilts his head towards the stairs and says, "Come with me, Red."
Max gulps and then stands up from the couch to follow him up the stairs and to his room.
Steve drops the trashbag on the floor and flops face first onto his bed. He knows he's still got work to do, but... he just needs a fuckin' minute. And his bed is so goddamn comfortable.
Max clears her throat from behind him, "Um... Why are you wearing Billy's clothes?"
Steve sighs into the mattress. That was a nice three seconds of rest. He rolls over to face the ceiling so that his voice won't be muffled, "Things got-" He cuts himself off. Steve has never walked on eggshells with Max, but even he isn't stupid enough to say, 'I covered my entire body in your stepdad's blood' directly to her face. "Sorry. I, uh... I needed a change of clothes. Billy was my size."
Max hums in acknowledgement, "It's stupid, but... for just a second when you walked through the door... with your highlights... I thought you were him."
Steve winces, that had to have been a hell of a feeling for her to experience. Hope, fear, and grief all rolled into one. He sits up to look at her, "Shit, I'm sorry, Max."
Max shrugs, hugging herself, "It's okay. Like I said, it was stupid."
Steve sighs, "It's not stupid, Max... I don't know what it is, but it's not stupid."
Max shrugs again, avoiding his gaze.
Steve stands up and goes to take Billy's jacket off.
He pauses as something jostles around in the pockets.
Oh, right!
"Oh, I, um, grabbed a couple things for you while I was there. Didn't know when you'd feel up to heading back, y'know?" He pulls out the Ramones tapes and hands them to her. She stares down at them with a tiny little smile on her face. "And... I found this in Neil's safe. Didn't know if you'd want it, but... figured I should at least ask you." Steve holds out Billy's necklace.
Max stares at it for a moment, face blank.
Then the line of her mouth starts to tremble. "I had wondered where that went... I looked everywhere for it after that night at the mall."
From the tone of her voice, Steve can tell that this is important to her, so he asks, "Wanna put it on?"
Max sniffles, "Yeah."
Steve spins a finger in the air to motion for her to turn around. She listens, her sniffling steadily getting louder as he gently wraps the chain around her neck and links the ends together. He gives her shoulder a quick squeeze, "There you go. Now it's yours."
Max looks down at it for a long moment as it hangs over her chest. She sniffles again and reaches up to rub a thumb against the pendant.
Then, in the blink of an eye, she spins around and wraps her arms around Steve's waist, squeezing the air right out of his lungs.
"Jesus Christ..." Steve says quietly, slightly strangled. He still sucks it up and hugs her back. "I'd bet anythin' you were a fuckin' anaconda in a past life... My poor ribs."
Max lets out a laugh that's just a step away from being a sob, "Tough luck, loser."
Steve chuckles as he remembers their conversation after the mall and he decides to follow the script, "Never. I'm the luckiest guy in the world right now."
Max giggles.
Freezes against him.
Steve pulls back, smiling from ear to ear, "I knew it! I fuckin' knew it! You really did giggle!"
Max goes red and scowls up at him, "I did not!"
Steve pokes her in the arm as he sticks his tongue between his teeth and grins, "You totally fuckin' did! Sorry, but I don't have a concussion you can take advantage of this time. Caught you red-handed, Maxamillion."
Max goes even redder and her eyes narrow as her scowl intensifies. But after a few seconds it morphs into a smirk, "No one will ever believe you."
Steve belts out a laugh and smiles down at her, "Doesn't matter. Mad Max Mayfield, the badass, rebel, zoomer, all the way from sunny California, fuckin' giggles. And I know it for a fact."
Max slugs him in the arm but smiles as she does it, "Shut up, asshole!"
He scoffs, "Never. Hell will freeze over before Steve Harrington ever learns to shut his big fat mouth."
Max snickers and bites her lip as she grins up at him. Then, once again in the blink of an eye, she's wrapped around his waist again.
Steve lets out a strangled grunt, but once again hugs her back, "Ugh... I don't know how I feel about Anaconda Max. As much as I hate Hurricane Max at least she has the decency to let me breathe while she's tormenting me."
Max snickers again, "Shut up, idiot."
And for once he listens to her.
They stand there together for a long moment, before Max breaks the silence with a soft, "Hey, Steve?"
Steve absently hums as he runs a hand through her hair.
"Thank you."
Steve exhales a soft laugh and decides to steal a line from Robin, "For what? Being annoying?"
Max exhales a soft laugh of her own, "Seriously... you know what for."
"It was nothin', Max."
Max looks up at him, "No it wasn't. It was... so much. You know how much."
Steve sighs. Yeah, he really fuckin' does. "Yeah, well... It was for you, y'know? I'd do it all again in a heartbeat. No hesitation."
Max looks up at him incredulously, "Why?"
Steve furrows his brow at her, "Why what?"
Max sputters, "W-why would you... do it all? For me?"
Steve tilts his head in confusion. Does she really not know? She's already used it against him once.
...Did she think it was a joke or something?
Steve scoffs and gives her a tiny disbelieving smile, "For the same reason I gave you the Codes in the first place. Same reason I'm teachin' you how to drive, taught you how to steal a car..." He snorts, "Same reason I let you annoy the shit out of me on a near daily basis." He shrugs, "Because I love you."
And honestly it's that simple. To him at least.
Max leans back in his arms to look up at him.
Her eyes are as wide as dinner plates and the right side of her face is nearly as red as the wounds on her left.
Steve abruptly remembers that Max has a crush on him and may currently be interpreting his words incredibly differently than he had intended them.
"LIKEASISTER!" He belts out, strangled and entirely too high pitched. Max blinks and flinches back at the volume of his voice. Steve clears his throat, "I, um. Like a- Like a sister. I love you like a sister... Yeah."
Steve's heart sinks into his stomach as her face twists up and she looks down to avoid his gaze, leaning the top of her head into his chest.
Her shoulders are shaking.
Oh no no no no no! This is exactly what he was fuckin' worried about! 'It's baby's first crush on the local teen heartthrob, Steve! It's not that big of a deal!' Well, look at what happened, Robin! He made Max fuckin' cry! So much for 'not that big of a deal'!
Steve grimaces as he lays a comforting hand on her back, "Shit, Max, I-"
He startles as Max throws her head back, cackling like a goddamn witch, one hand on her stomach and the other still firmly wrapped around Steve to keep herself from losing her balance. "Oh my god!" She gasps out between laughs.
Steve looks down at her in complete disbelief, "You're laughing!?" He spits out, half in relief and half in total outrage, "Are you fuckin' kiddin' me!?"
Max wipes a tear from the corner of her good eye, "You should've seen your face! I've never seen you look that scared! Never! Not even when you were going up against those fucking demodogs!"
Steve scowls, "Oh, you wanna talk about faces? Because when I said 'I love you', yours went about as red as a fuckin'-"
He startles again as Max suddenly belts out, "SO WHAT'S THE DEAL WITH THE TRASHBAG!?" Her face once again beet-red.
"Jesus fuck, I hate when you do that, you little brat! Also, once again, I'm not fuckin' concussed! That won't work this time!"
Max just bites her lip and shrugs, looking just a little embarrassed by her actions.
Steve rolls his eyes. Screw it, he's about as ready to move on from this clusterfuck as she probably is. "Whatever." He throws a hand out toward the trashbag, "Open it up and take a look."
Max finally lets him go and walks over to it. She grabs the edges and hesitates for just a second before pulling them apart and looking inside.
Her jaw instantly drops.
She looks back over to him, eyes wide, "Where the hell did you get this!?"
"Neil's safe."
She looks back down into the bag, silent for a moment, then she mutters, "Where the hell did he get this?" Under her breath.
Steve shrugs, "Doesn't matter. It's yours now."
She looks back up at him, eyes even wider this time, "...Mine?"
Steve nods, "Yours. Call it... reparations. For severe emotional and physical damages."
Max sputters, "Steve, I-I can't just... How much money is even in there?"
"'Bout a quarter of a million."
"A QUARTER OF-" She gives her head a quick shake, "Steve, I fucking... I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm thirteen! I can't just walk into a bank with $250,000 and make a deposit without having to answer a few questions! I don't think I'm even old enough to open an account!"
Steve snorts and a grin spreads across his face. Most kids would've just started bouncing off the fucking walls as soon as they heard that that amount of cash now belonged to them. Max isn't most kids though. She may be a little hellion, but she's smart as a whip too. Not exactly in the same way as the other kids in the Party are. She's street smart. Practical. Responsible.
It's part of the reason why he loves her to fuckin' death.
"You're right. That's why I'm gonna be holdin' onto it for you."
"Where!? Again, you can't just take that much cash into a bank and drop it off without raising about a hundred red flags!"
Steve turns around to kick the bedpost, sliding it off of the one loose floorboard in his room. He sits down and crosses his legs underneath his thighs before prying it open and tossing the board to the side. He leans back so Max can take a look at what lies in the empty space, "National Bank of Harrington. Proudly serving Hawkins since 1977."
Max freezes as she peers inside the gap and sees band after band of dusty cash, some of it having been hidden in there for almost a decade. She repeats herself, much more quietly this time, "Where the hell did you get this?"
Steve sighs, "After I told you about my parents, did you ever wonder why I moved to Hawkins? Why I spent eight years usin' a fake accent? Why I live alone in a big, empty house? ...Why I know how to drive the way that I can?"
Max down at him and nods. From the way her face is paling, he thinks she might've connected the dots, but just to be sure, "As much as I wish it was true, I wasn't a racecar driver back in Atlanta. I was a getaway driver."
"Oh..." She says in shock, "But... eight years... you would've been younger than me."
Steve grimaces and simply replies with, "...Yeah. Pulled my first job a couple weeks before my thirteenth birthday."
Max slowly sinks to her knees to sit next to him, "Jesus..."
Steve snorts, "Trust me, that silent bastard wasn't involved in anything I did back then."
Max scoffs, "Of course you would find a way to joke about it."
Steve gives her a wink, "Deflecting with humor is just one of my many talents."
Max scoffs again, but she softly sways into him to lean a head on his shoulder.
"...Can I ask why?"
Steve gently knocks his head against hers, "Always." He inhales a quick breath, and says, "After my folks died, I lived on the streets for a while. Long story short: Stole the wrong car, ended up in debt to the type of guy you really don't wanna be in debt to. I guess he saw... potential in me. Trained me up. He sent me here to lie low during the school year and then every summer I'd go back to Atlanta. To work. Pay it off, y'know?"
"Did you? Pay it off?"
Steve hums, "Yeah. I did actually. Almost two years ago now. Took me four years and..." Steve does some quick math in his head, three months a year, a job every week... "Almost fifty jobs. But I paid it off."
"And this guy just... let you go?"
Steve closes his eyes and swallows as he fights off memories of that last hellish fucking summer. They're mostly Baby's, but that doesn't mean they don't hit just as hard.
"No... he didn't. I, uh, had to find my own way out."
Max is silent for beat, leaning into him just a bit harder, then she says, "I'm sorry."
Steve shrugs his free shoulder, he appreciates it, but it's not like it's her fault, and, "It is what it is. I'm just glad it's over."
They're both quiet for a while.
"Hey, Steve?"
Steve hums.
"Thanks for telling me."
Steve wraps an arm around her, "'Course, Red."
They're both quiet again, leaning against each other as they stare down at Steve's floor.
Max glances over at the trashbag, "That's my first car. College. Anything I could possibly need... for years."
Steve nods, "It is."
Max looks back at him, lip trembling, and softly asks, "...It's really mine?"
Steve smiles, "Every fuckin' cent, Maxamillion."
She leans further into him, burying her face in his chest, and lets out a tiny muffled, "Thank you..."
Steve gives her a tight squeeze and leans down to give the top of her head a kiss, "Anytime. In a heartbeat. No hesitation."
Max just sniffles and continues to lean into him. He holds her tightly as they settle into a comfortable silence.
After a while, once it seems like her breathing has evened out, Steve breaks the silence with, "We might have to update your nickname to Max-quarter-of-amillon, though."
Max lets out a wet laugh and leans back to glare up at him, "Don't you dare."
Steve smirks at her and shrugs, "Ah, I'll workshop it a bit." He reaches out to ruffle her hair, "Now, why don't you go check on Will? Make sure he didn't get bored and try to burn down the backyard."
Max snorts and stands up, "As if. That kid is an angel."
"Hey, you never know with those braniacs. Maybe the kid's a closet pyro and he turns into a total menace once he gets his hands on a box of matches."
Max barks out a laugh, "Yeah, right. There's nothing wrong with making sure though, I guess." She starts making her way towards the door.
Steve shoots her a wink, "Exactly. I'll be down in a bit, okay?"
"Okay."
Steve turns around and reaches over to slide the trashbag into the space Max just left. He pulls out the first band and throws it into the hole.
"Steve?"
He turns around. Max is on the other side of the door, peeking back into the room at him.
Steve raises his eyebrows, "What's up?"
Max hesitates for a long moment. Just before Steve opens his mouth again to ask her what's going on, she bursts out, "Iloveyoutoo!" And slams the door shut before he can respond. He hears her footsteps quickly running down the hall before they fade away entirely.
Pressure spikes behind his eyes and he fights off tears.
But that doesn't stop a wide smile from lighting up his face.
It only takes Steve about twenty minutes to get everything squared away.
Once his floorboards are $250,000 and three handguns richer, he slots the board back into place, moves his bedpost back over it, and pops up to change into his own clothes and shoes.
It's hard not to let out a sigh of relief as he shrugs Billy's jacket off of his shoulders. He thinks that denim might've given him a fucking rash.
He stops by the laundry room to toss Billy's clothes into the washer. He's not sure if Max will actually want them, but either way, he's not giving them back to her with fucking bloodstains all over them.
If she ever decides to wear that jacket though, he will make fun of her endlessly. Maybe not the first time she does it... because of all the emotions or whatever. But the second time? Oh, he's gonna eat her alive.
He snickers as he walks down the stairs and imagines the denim themed puns he's gonna torment her with.
Steve makes his way down the hall and quietly slides the back door open before stepping through and closing it behind him. The sun is fully set now, the moon and stars glowing down onto the backyard. Will and Max are standing by the firepit, deep in conversation, illuminated by the flames. As he approaches them, he starts to pick up their hushed words.
"-ecause if it's anything like what was in that other trashbag, we're gonna want to see it!"
"You still won't even tell me what was in that one! Why would-"
"What is it with you dorks and privacy!? I'm allowed to have secrets ya know!"
Will's hands fly into the air, his face incredulous, "You're the one asking me to look in the bag! Steve said to bring it out here and wait. He didn't say anything about looking inside it!"
Max groans and cranes her neck up to look at the heavens, "Ugh, oh my God, you are such a goody-two-shoes. Seriously, have you ever broken a rule in your entire life?"
Will's entire body spasms in outrage, his voice cracks as he squeaks out, "I literally just helped you cover up a murder!"
They're both silent for a few seconds.
"...Okay, but that doesn't count."
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN THAT DOESN'T COUNT!?"
They both startle and whip around to look at Steve as he bursts out laughing, "Holy shit! You did it, Max! You were so annoying you broke Will!" He gives her a round of applause, "That's honestly fuckin' impressive, man. Truly masterful work."
Max quickly recovers from her shock to smirk and take a bow, "I learned from the best."
Will just blushes bright red, crossing his arms and looking away.
Feeling just a little guilty, Steve walks up to him and ruffles his hair, "Seriously though, good job holdin' her off." Will looks up at him with a tiny smile. Steve grimaces as he looks over to the trashbag, "I, uh... don't think you guys would've liked seein' what's inside of it."
Max raises an eyebrow at him as he walks over and crouches down next to it, "So, what's in it then?"
Steve sighs and gestures vaguely to the fire, "Last step."
Max and Will share a look and then look back at him expectantly.
Steve sighs again, "Seriously, I... You guys don't have to hang around for this next part. You can go back in-"
Max cuts him off with a scowl, "Steve. We've seen way worse. Just get it over with."
Will shrugs, "We've come this far, right?"
Steve looks between them and sighs one last time, "Okay." Just to prepare them, he says, "It's my bat. And bloody clothes."
They both look totally unaffected. Yeah, it doesn't sound like the worst thing in the world, but hearing it is a completely different thing than actually seeing it.
Steve peels open the bag and pulls out the bat first, laying it down in the grass next to the firepit.
It's stained red. All the way up to the handle. Not an inch of the wood grain is visible below the knob.
That gets Will, and his face starts to go pale as he looks down at it.
Max just stares down at it, scowl still etched on her face.
Then, Steve grabs the bottom of the bag and dumps out his clothes and shoes.
The blood has dried by now, but it's still... not great to look at. The worst are his shoes. Crisp white Nike's with a red checkmark on the sides.
Now, they're just... red.
That gets Max, and she joins Will in going pale, she quietly says, "Wow. Um... Did... Did we really-"
Steve's head snaps up to look at them and he cuts her off firmly, face set in stone, "Now, let's get one thing straight. 'We'?" He points a finger back and forth between him and them, "Didn't do anything. I did. And on the off chance that things go wrong, that's exactly what we're all gonna say."
Max and Will immediately open their mouths to argue, and then flinch back as he cuts them off before they can speak, "NO! You're not fightin' me on this one!" He stands up to look down at Will and points at the bloody clothes, "Are those your clothes?"
Will is silent for a moment, looking up at him wide eyed, then he says, "...No."
Steve turns to Max and points down at his bat, "Is that your bat?"
Max looks up at him much more angrily, almost snarling, but she still says, "No."
Steve looks between them, "Then it sounds like we didn't do shit. You showed up at my house beat half to death, Will came over to keep you company, and I disappeared for a few hours. If the cops show up at your door askin' about Neil? That's the story."
They both cross their arms and avoid his eyes.
Steve doesn't feel good about this, but, "I'm gonna need to hear a yes!"
Will looks exceptionally sad about it, but he sighs and says, "...Okay."
Steve looks to Max.
She doesn't look sad, she looks fucking furious, she glares up at him, "No."
Steve sighs, "Max-"
"No!" She spits out, "I'm not doing that to you! Not when I'm the one..." She trails off, but before Steve can interrupt her she starts back up again, "I- I mean... th-the Codes-"
"Who's the one who gave them to you, Max?"
"BUT I'M THE ONE WHO USED THEM!" She shouts, fists trembling and eyes shining, "You gave me every other option! Talk to my Mom, come to your house, go to Hopper! And I-"
"And I went in there and fuckin' killed him! You're thirteen, Max! I'm a goddamn adult! You aren't a drill sergeant, I don't take orders from you! I could've dragged you to Hopper kickin' and screamin' if I wanted to, but I didn't! I went in there, and I killed him, because I fuckin' wanted to!" He takes a shaky breath to calm himself and gently says, "This isn't on you. This is on me. No one but me."
Max goes silent at that. She looks away from him, her lip trembling.
Steve fights off an insane amount of guilt and kneels down in front of her, laying his hands on her shoulders, "Listen. We've got Hopper on our side. This is a last last last resort, okay? Like I said, the slimmest chance."
Max looks at him and quietly says, "But if it does happen... I-I can't..."
Steve lowers his voice to a bare whisper, "Max, if I end up in a cell... I'm goin' down for life no matter what. You know that now." Max's face starts to twist up, "I am not takin' you down with me. Please. Just say you'll do it."
Max trembles as she looks at him, eyes watering, and after a few moments of silence she nods and tearfully says, "Okay, Steve."
He gathers her up in a tight hug and says, "Thank you... I'll never leave you if I can help it. I promise."
Max just sniffles into his shoulder and holds him tight.
Steve glances to the side and sees Will watching them, nervously biting his lip. He raises an eyebrow and holds an arm out towards him. Will goes red and hesitates.
Steve narrows his eyes and gestures sternly at Will with a grabby hand.
Will smiles and bites down a snort before walking over and joining the hug.
"URGH-"
Jesus fuckin' Christ... If Max is an anaconda, then Will is... Steve can't think of a witty comparison right now, his brain isn't getting enough oxygen.
Quietly enough that he probably didn't mean to say it out loud, Will whispers, "Wow, he's so warm..."
Oh no... not another one. He already has to deal with Robin and Carol treating him like their own personal space heater, he doesn't think he can handle yet another strangely cold parasite clinging onto him everywhere he goes.
Max whispers back, "...I know, right?"
A sharp pang of betrayal runs through him. Max... not you too...
Will lets out a tiny little squeak in surprise and somehow starts to squeeze Steve even harder than before.
Steve lets out a strangled laugh and says, "Guys, I love you so much, but if you don't let me go I think I might pass out..." He has made a crucial error.
Silence meets that statement, and then he's suddenly being squeezed even fucking harder.
...I think I can see the light...
Is this some kind of weird form of revenge for yelling at them!? He's gotta admit, it's smart. He never saw it coming.
He hears what might be two tiny, "Love you too..."'s and then he takes in a giant gasp of fresh air as he's finally let go.
Steve sways for a moment as blood rushes back to his brain, he clears his throat and blinks a few times, "So, uh, you guys ready to burn some shit?"
Max snorts, "Hell yeah. Gotta let Pyro get his fix, right?"
Steve snickers as Will furrows his brow, "Wh- Pyro?"
Max nods, the picture of innocence, "Mhm. You. The Pyro."
Will's jaw drops, "I'm not a pyro!"
Max tilts her head in mock confusion, "Aww, come on, Will! You don't have to pretend with us!" She pats him on the shoulder consolingly, "This is a safe space."
Will stares at her for a moment, completely blank-faced, then turns to Steve and asks him in a monotone voice, "What is happening right now?"
Steve feels like he makes a valiant effort to keep any amusement off of his face, but apparently it wasn't good enough, because Will's eye is starting to twitch. Steve begins to explain, "Okay, it's just... you're amazing, right? Like, a complete and total angel. Seriously, you're the only one of the kids who's never once pissed me off. Not even a little bit!"
Will doesn't even flinch at the praise, "Steve..."
Max stage whispers to him, "I don't think flattery will work on him right now... he's in fire mode."
And holy shit, that's fucking scary. A chill runs down Steve's spine as Will hits Max with the most terrifying glare he's ever seen. For a moment, he swears that Joyce Byers is standing in front of him, scolding him for trying to sneak out of Melvald's with a sixer again.
Steve decides to jump in before Will can involve himself in his second murder of the day, "S-So, uh, we figured, y'know, as a joke, 'he's gotta be hiding something under all that amazing niceness and genrosity'... right?"
Will closes his eyes in exasperation, "And you landed on... Pyromaniac."
Steve grimaces.
Max clearly wasn't lying about learning from him though, because despite being about five steps over the line already, she doesn't quit, "I mean... you came out here and started a fire, didn't you?"
Will's eyes widen and he reaches his hands out towards Max, like he's just barely restraining himself from wrapping them around her neck and strangling her, "Steve literally told me to!"
Max opens her mouth to reply and makes a noise of outrage as Steve quickly uses a hand to cover it up. If she says another word, Will might genuinely lose it, and based on that glare, Steve never wants to find out what Hurricane Will looks like.
"I did! I did tell you to do that! And you did such a good job! Good job, Will!"
Max starts to shake with silent laughter as Will turns his horrifying glare onto Steve.
...All three of his lives flash before his eyes.
And then, Will crosses his arms, turns his nose up at them, and says, "I am totally and completely normal."
...
Uh...
Steve's jaw drops in disbelief and he feels Max's do the same under his hand. They both turn to share a look and then turn back to Will.
I really was trying to help you, kid, but, "Nahhhh, no fuckin' shot."
Max pries Steve's hand off of her mouth to say, "You're best friends with Mike fucking Wheeler. Something has to be wrong with you."
Will closes his eyes and brings his fingers up to his temples as he seemingly summons every ounce of patience in his body.
He sighs and tiredly looks up at them, "Let's just burn the damn clothes already." Then he turns toward the fire.
Max opens her mouth and Steve quickly smacks a hand over it again, whispering to her, "We barely made it out of that alive, I am beggin' you to just take the fuckin' win here."
Max rolls her eyes and shoves his hand off to smirk up at him, "Fine." Then, she walks up to Will and wraps an arm around his shoulders, "Come on, Pyro! Cheer up! We've got shit to burn!"
Will mutters something under his breath that sounds a lot like, "God, I hate girls..."
Steve snorts, he can't blame the kid. Nearly every girl in his life has seemingly made it their life's mission to annoy the absolute piss out of him.
...Then again, nearly every boy has too.
Except for Will, the absolute (possibly fire-loving...?) angel.
Max and Will migrate to the chairs around the firepit and bicker back and forth as Steve burns item after item of bloody clothing.
Maybe it's paranoid of him, but he's not taking any chances.
He's kinda mad at himself for not wearing different clothes. He was totally fucking panicking, but still... A Members Only jacket and his second favorite pair of Nike's? You couldn't have chosen a slightly cheaper outfit to murder someone in, Past Steve?
...It's fuckin' July, why did you even put the goddamn jacket on!?
Steve sighs as he tosses them in. Whatever... It's not like he can't afford to get another one.
Max pipes up from behind him, "That's everything, right?"
Steve sighs again, much more deeply this time, "Not quite..."
He looks down at his bat.
...Steve can't afford to be sentimental about this.
He picks it up.
Looks it over, memorizing every scratch and dent in the surface.
Counts the nails.
...Jesus, is he really tearing up right now? It's a fucking bat.
'Not just any bat though.'
...Yeah. It's his.
'Ours.'
It's gotten them through more than one life or death situation, always light as a feather in his hands. Ever dependable. Unbroken.
Steve is half-convinced the thing might be fucking invincible.
Well... he's about to find out.
Steve lets out a shaky breath, "See ya on the other side, old friend." He brings the thankfully still clean knob up to his mouth to give it a kiss goodbye.
"Uh... Steve?"
One last deep breath.
Then, Steve tosses his most faithful protector into the flames.
Max and Will both gasp as one and shoot up to stand next to him, staring down at the bat with wide eyes as it catches fire.
Will stutters, "W-Why did you..."
Steve shrugs, "It was evidence."
Max looks up at him, "I mean... couldn't you have just washed it?"
"I could've washed the clothes too. It's not worth the risk."
"...You've had that thing for as long as I've known you."
Will looks up at him, "Me too, actually. As long as I've really known you anyway."
Steve sighs, "Yeah, well... Listen. I can buy more clothes... another bat." As much as the thought is currently making his skin crawl, it's true. "Everything in that fire is replaceable." He looks down at them, "You two aren't. I'm not riskin' your safety over a fuckin' bat. I may be stupid, but I'm not that stupid."
Max reaches out to grab his hand, "You aren't stupid, Steve."
Steve shrugs and smirks, "Wellllll..."
To his surprise, Will reaches out to snatch up his other hand, scary glare once again etched on his face, "You aren't."
Steve is shocked into silence for a moment, then he exhales a tiny laugh out of his nose and says, completely sincerely, "Well. If Will Byers said it, it must be true."
Will gives him a shy grin, and then the three of them turn back to the fire. Holding vigil over the burning piece of wood that's protected all of them at least once.
They stand there in silence for a long while, holding hands while the wood crackles, before Max finally says, "So... What now?"
Steve thinks for a moment, "Hmm. We could finish Blade Runner?"
Max rolls her eyes, "I meant, like, 'what's next', ya know?"
"Oh. Um..." He looks to Will, "How did setting up our alibi go?"
Will smiles up at him proudly, "Luckily, Jonathan answered. I've always been able to lie to him."
Steve snickers, "'Course you have." He looks back to Max, "What, um... What do you wanna tell the others?"
Max furrows her brow, "What do you mean?"
"I mean... do you wanna tell them you bailed skateboarding or do you wanna tell them the truth?"
Max's eyes glaze over as she thinks, "I... I don't know. I'm not sure if I could pass this off as a skateboarding accident."
Steve winces, "Yeah. Either way, it's up to you. You can tell them as much or as little as you want. It's your choice."
Max nods, "I know."
Steve nods back, "Good." He takes a deep breath, "So, here's our story. After the funeral, Neil took you home and you snuck out to come over here. You haven't seen him since." He turns to Will, "You forgot something after you left and came back to grab it. Then, you decided to stay and hang out with me and Max. We spent the whole night together. Never left the house."
Will tilts his head, "Wait... didn't you tell the others that your Dad was coming home?"
Steve grimaces as Max looks up at him wide eyed, "Ah, shit... Yeah, um... Okay, I can explain that away I think. Either... He stayed for a couple hours and took off or I made it up as a way to hang out with Max alone. They'll definitely give me shit for that, but it'll work."
Will nods, "Okay, sounds good."
Max's eyes dart between Steve and Will, seemingly trying to communicate, 'Uh. Are you gonna tell him, or no?'
Steve sighs. Shit, if Max deserved to know, then Will definitely does. "By the way, um..." Will raises his eyebrows as Steve trails off. He clears his throat, it's a hell of a thing to just come out and say, but, "My parents died when I was eight, so... that whole thing was even more of a lie than you probably thought."
Will goes pale and his eyes widen, "Oh..."
That seems to be the end of Will's sentence, so Steve rambles on, "My, uh... my Daddy was a lot like Neil. So, that's why..." Steve shrugs and, his words failing him, vaguely finishes, "That's why."
Will pales even further and repeats himself, "Oh..."
"Yeah."
Will shakes his head to snap himself out of his shock and gives Steve's hand a squeeze, "I-I'm sorry, Steve."
Steve gives him a grim smile and squeezes Will's hand back, "It's alright. Like I said, fucker's dead anyway."
Will grimaces and Max covers her eyes in exasperation, "Jesus Christ, Steve."
Steve glances between them, "What? I mean... he is."
"That's not the..." Max sighs, giving him a tiny grin, "Whatever. So... We're actually done, then?"
He nods, "We're done."
Will looks back and forth between them, "So, uh, Blade Runner?"
Steve is just about to agree, but... now that he thinks about it, sitting silently with his thoughts for a couple of hours sounds like a horrible idea. It probably wouldn't be great for the kids either.
He thinks, what else could they do?
...Decorate Max's room? Eh, no. He wants to save that for her birthday and he doesn't even have everything they'll need to get it done yet.
He suddenly remembers one last promise he made to Max that he's yet to fulfill.
Oh... That could work. In fact, that could work really fucking well.
Steve turns to Max with a smile, "Actually, I just remembered our other deal."
Max furrows her brow for a moment before her eyes suddenly go wide with excitement, "Wait, now?"
Will's face scrunches in confusion, "What deal?"
Steve ignores him for the moment, "Mhm. Now. Why not?"
Will flinches back as Max nearly pokes a finger directly into his eye, "What about him?"
His eyes cross as he glares at Max's finger, "What about me?"
Steve shrugs, "I think it's safe to say he's earned it. Don'tcha think?"
Max brings her hand back to her face to cup her chin, considering, "I suppose..."
Will is starting to look just the tiniest bit nervous, "Earned what!?"
Steve finally acknowledges Will's presence with a grin, "The gift of music, Baby Byers. My music."
Steve rubs his hands together and hums a tune as he looks through his tapes.
Let's see, let's see... what would-
"What the fuck, Steve?"
Steve whips around to look at Max and Will. Both of their eyes are wide with awe as they take in his recording studio.
"What?"
Max throws her arms up and looks at him incredulously, "What the fuck!? When I found out you made music, I was expecting a couple of guitars and a shitty drum-kit in your garage! This is... This is..." She trails off, her words failing her.
Will takes a couple steps forward to start exploring the space and mumbles, "Professional."
Max throws a hand towards Will in agreement, "What Pyro said!" Will is still so shocked that he doesn't even react to the new nickname.
Steve shrugs, "Yeah, well... If I'm gonna do something I kinda go all out, y'know?"
Max scoffs, "Yeah, no shit."
Will spins around the middle of the room, taking in all of the instruments scattered across the space, "Can you really play all of these?"
"Yeah. It'd be kinda weird if I had them and didn't know how to play them."
Will stops spinning to look at him curiously, "How did you learn?"
"Taught myself."
They both stare at him for a long moment.
Max mutters, "Jesus, is there anything you can't do?"
Steve tilts his head as he thinks for a few seconds, "...Math?"
Will snorts and Max rubs her face in exasperation, "You can't be serious either, apparently."
Steve smirks, "Hey, I am being serious! The only reason I passed algebra is because my baseball coach was the teacher. Oh, and chemistry? Fuckin' forget about it. I cheated my ass off in that class."
Will furrows his brow, "But chemistry is so easy!"
Steve gives him a deadpan look, he pitches his voice up a couple of octaves and says, "Ohhhh, look at me, I'm Will Byers! I'm the sweetest kid alive and I know what a covalent bond is!" Steve pitches his voice back down, "That's you. That's what you sound like."
Will just stares at him, completely unimpressed. He points a finger back and forth between Steve and Max, "Are you sure you two aren't related or something? Because I'm seeing a strong resemblance here."
Max smirks, "I mean, it's a definite possibility."
Steve tilts his head thoughtfully, "Y'know, technically everyone is related. We're all probably like... Tenth Cousins or somethin'."
They both stare at him for a few seconds, then Max cringes and claps her hands together, "OKAY! Moving on from... that. Let's listen to this music! I have a feeling it's either gonna be insanely good or incredibly bad, and either way I'm fucking pumped to hear it!"
Will bounces in place a few times in excitement.
Max runs over to the shelf and grabs two random tapes to hold up, "What about these?"
Steve grimaces as he sees the labels on the cases, Small Hands and It's Over.
It's just his luck that Max would pick the songs he made in the aftermath of his and Carol's friendship breakup and his and Nancy's actual breakup.
Steve lunges forward and snatches the tapes out of her hands, "About that!" Steve's thought about it and sitting around listening to music doesn't completely solve the problem of escaping from their thoughts, so... "Why listen... when you can play?" He finishes with a grin and a dramatic flourish.
Max gives him a deadpan look, "Because we can't play anything, Steve."
Ah. Right. "Ehhhh.... Well! You have vocal cords, so you could si-"
Max cuts him off with a no nonsense look on her face, "Absolutely fucking not."
Steve turns to Will.
He receives a grimace and a firm shake of the head.
Goddammit... Curse you, teenage shame...
Steve looks between them as he scrambles for a solution.
"Well... You guys like hitting stuff, right?"
Will raises an eyebrow and cautiously resumes his excited bouncing.
Max manically smiles from ear to ear.
It takes about half an hour to walk Max and Will through the intricacies of the drum kit.
Deciding that, with their inexperience, the best thing they can do is divide and conquer, Steve splits their duties in half. After much debate, Max takes over the snare and bass, while Will is responsible for the toms and the cymbals.
With that done, Steve returns to looking through his tapes, "So!" He glances over his shoulder at Max and Will, they pause their vicious fight over the seat to give him their attention, "What are we feelin'? What's the vibe?"
Will furrows his brow, "'The vibe?'"
"Yeah! Like..." Steve turns back to the shelf, "Are we thinkin'... Top 40 Trash? Or... Garage Rock Garbage? Or maybe... Country Boy Bullshit?"
Max snorts and points at the snare, "Uh, whatever lets me hit this thing as hard as humanly possible."
Will nods his head up and down like a bobblehead.
Steve snorts, "Garage Rock Garbage it is, then."
He runs his hand over the tapes as he thinks, Hmm... No, no, definitely not, Maybe...? Actually, no, that wouldn't be very appropriate. Jesus, this is a little harder than he thought it would be.
Umm... What about-
"Jesus fuck, Henrietta! Obviously! It's perfect!"
Steve startles and whips his head around.
Someone is lounging on the piano bench, tossing a tennis ball up and down in boredom.
He's wearing a Letterman jacket that is currently at Carol's house, a pair of black Ray-Bans that are in the cupholder of Steve's Beamer, and a pair of Nike's that Steve just watched burn to a crisp.
Other than his hair being much shorter and still completely brown, he's Steve's mirror image.
His evil twin.
Baby snorts and looks over at him, "'Evil twin'... You are such a drama queen, y'know that?"
Steve glares at him, he can't respond without looking insane, so he decides to think 'Fuck you.' as hard as he can.
Baby mockingly gasps, "Steve! Language! There are children present!" He tilts his head towards the loveseat in the corner of the room.
Steve glances over.
He freezes and has to fight back tears.
Miles sits there with his knees pulled to his chest, looking up at Steve through dirty bangs. He gives Steve a shy little wave.
Steve gives him a smile back.
It seems the promise of music was enough to wake him from his seemingly eternal slumber.
The kid never could resist a chance to rock the fuck out.
Miles gives him a very tiny grin.
"Uh, Steve?"
Steve whips around, Max is staring at him with raised eyebrows.
He clears his throat and wipes his face, "Sorry, I was just, uh... thinking."
"Sure..." Max doesn't seem completely convinced, but luckily, she seems to be willing to let it go for the moment.
Steve turns around again to glance between Baby and Miles.
They've been around, obviously. They're never truly gone, just... dormant maybe. But... It's been a while since Steve has actually seen them.
In the flesh, for lack of a better word.
His brothers.
Baby gives him a wide smirk, "So... Henrietta, right?"
Steve considers it for a moment.
'Clean out the bank and I'll bump off your daddy...'
He chuckles, "Yeah. Henrietta."
Baby lets out a whoop of celebration and Miles claps his hands together in excitement.
"I'm guessing that means you finally figured out what we're playing?" Max sardonically asks him.
"Hell yeah, I did." He looks through the tapes until he finds Henrietta and snatches it up, "Y'all are in for a treat."
"Who's Henrietta?" Will asks.
"She's a song, my bowl cut wearing friend. Just a song."
He spends just ten minutes going through drums of the song with Max and Will before walking over to the stereo to mute the drum loop. The vocals were muted from the moment he put the tape in the player. He wants them to be a surprise.
He hesitates for just a second.
Fuck it, he feels like showing off just a bit. He mutes the guitar too.
As he walks over to the wall to grab a guitar and throw it around his neck, Max asks him, "Wait, that's it?"
Steve furrows his brow at her as he tunes it, "What do you mean?"
Max scoffs, "I mean, we're only practicing for ten minutes and then we're just... playing a whole song?"
Steve shrugs, "Well... yeah. You're each only handling half of a drum kit. Shouldn't be too hard. And I don't wanna mess with your flow, y'know?"
Will's face scrunches in confusion, "Flow?"
"Yeah, your flow! It's like... Uh..." Steve shakes his head, "Whatever, you'll get it soon enough."
Max snorts.
Steve glares at her, "Shuddup. You guys ready or what?"
Max and Will share and look and then turn back to him to shrug, "Guess so."
Steve nods, "Alright, just remember, as drummers you're driving the whole song, so whatever you do, d-"
They cut him off and roll their eyes in unison to say, "Don't hesitate!" Max continues, "We know, Steve! You only told us like a hundred times!"
Steve glares again, "Yeah, so you'd remember! Looks like it worked!" He mumbles under his breath, "Goddamn brats..." He claps his hands together, "Okay! Let's do this!" He runs over to the stereo and sets it up to play after a fifteen second delay, then he runs back over to the mic, facing towards Max and Will. "Let's have some fuckin' fun."
Max grins and nods, giving her drumsticks a twirl.
Will lays the tips of his sticks gently on the cymbals and stares down at them, completely focused.
Steve takes one last deep breath.
He bobs his head and counts them in, "One, two. One, two, three, four!" Then he jumps in to start the opening guitar lick. Steve nods his head towards Will and Max to cue them to start.
Will taps the cymbal a few times ever so slightly, tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth in concentration.
Max hesitantly kicks the bass and hits the snare a few times before leaning forward to give them a harsh drum roll.
"Hello!"
They all start to bang their heads up and down as the song really kicks into gear. Steve grins as Baby pops up and starts to stomp around the room to the beat, making Miles laugh.
Steve bangs his head a few more times to the beat as he prepares to belt out the first verse.
"Henrietta, we've got no flowers for you!
Just these three miserable cunts, sittin' in the backseat, shoutin' on the offbeat!
We know ya love us, and ya probably do!
Although your husband may kill us heisananimalthoughanythin'ispossible!
Give us a kiss and maybe we can go out!
It's hard to miss ya when ya follow us abou-ou-ou-out!
Buy us some shoes and maybe take us for cola!
We'll get ya there in some, filthy big gondola!
And it's, clean out the bank and I'll bump off your daddy!
You can, come live with us amongst the has-beens and the addicts!
These are, crazy times down at Costello Music!
You can, answer the phone and talk anyway ya choose it, c'mon!
Oh, c'mon!
Oh, come on!
Wah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-owww!
Woo-hoo-hoo-hoooo!"
Steve smiles as he glances up and looks around the room. Max and Will are smiling widely and red-faced, much less hesitant in their drumming now that they've gotten into the song. Baby has snatched Miles up off of the loveseat and is carrying him on his hip, spinning around to the music. Miles is cackling, his dirty mop of hair flying around behind his head as Baby spins him.
Steve strums his guitar and grins as Baby and Miles sing the next line along with him.
"Dear Henrietta, we're just three lonely boys!
Though the girls love us we're so intoyouincrediblywe'dlovetoseeyaterribly!
We'd love to hate ya but we don't have no choice!
Come be our wa-HA-HA-HA!
HoneyHoneythreefouronetimeoncemore!
Give us a kiss and maybe we can go out!
It's hard to miss ya when ya follow us abou-ou-ou-out!
Buy us some shoes and maybe take us for cola!
We'll get ya there in some, filthy big gondola!
And it's, clean out the bank and I'll bump off your daddy!
You can, come live with us amongst the has-beens and the addicts!
These are, crazy times down at Costello Music!
You can, answer the phone and talk anyway ya choose it, c'mon!"
Baby puts a hand on Steve's chest and shoves him back to hold Miles up to the mic. Steve bites down a grin as he shyly sings into it in time with the guitar.
"Wah-wah-wah-wowwwww!
Wah-wah-wah-wah-wah-wah-wow!
Wah-wah-wah-wowwwww!
Wah-wah-wah-wah-wah-wah-wow!"
Baby ruffles Miles' hair and then reaches forward to snatch the mic up for himself, shaking his head wildly as he sings.
"Wah-ah-ha-howww!
Oh, I'm gonna shake it now! SHAKALAKALAKALAKLAKIT!
GONNA SHAKE IT NOW, WAH-HA-HA-HOWWW!"
Steve pulls Baby back and steps forward again to play another guitar lick and shouts, "ALL TOGETHER NOW!" He raises a hand up to signal Max and Will to cut the drums.
And then, all together, they howl at the ceiling,
"CLEAN OUT THE BANK AND I'LL BUMP OFF YOUR DADDY!"
Steve signals them again and they raise their drumsticks high before bringing them down in an overhanded strike to hit the snare and cymbals as hard as they can, continuing their playing even louder than before.
"You can, come live with us amongst the has-beens and the addicts,
These are, crazy times down at Costello Music!
You can, answer the phone and talk anyway ya choose it, C'MON!"
Baby and Miles lean into the mic to scream along with Steve,
"CLEAN OUT THE BANK AND I'LL BUMP OFF YOUR DADDY
YOU CAN, COME LIVE WITH US AMONGST THE HAS-BEENS AND THE ADDICTS
THESE ARE, CRAZY TIMES DOWN AT, COSTELLO MUSIC!
YOU CAN, ANSWER THE PHONE AND TALK, ANYWAY YA CHOOSE IT, C'MON!"
Steve lets his hand travel up and down the neck of the guitar as he leads them through the outro,
"Oh, come on!
Oh, c'mon!
Oh, come on!
Oh, c'mon!
Oh, come on!
Oh, c'mon!
Wah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-oww!"
Steve gives one last giant waving strum at the same time Will crashes a stick down against the final cymbal and lets it fade out, breathing heavily as he looks up at the ceiling.
It's completely silent for a moment, then Max and Will collapse against each other in breathless laughter.
As Max cackles, red-faced and exhausted, Will mutters under his breath, "Okay, 'flow'... I think I get it."
Steve takes a moment to just smile and watch them, catching his breath, then says, "So... you guys wanna play it again?"
There's another second of silence, then three voices say in unison, "Hell yeah!"
Steve looks over towards Miles, he doesn't say anything from where he's propped up on Baby's hip, just gives Steve a very rare wide smile, showing off his still missing front tooth.
Steve smiles back, "Well... let's play it again, then."
They play music together for the rest of the night, somehow getting louder and more energetic with each song.
Max and Will can't get enough of it, laughing and joking and smiling through every second of music played.
Steve lets them play themselves into exhaustion, only stopping them after the third time he catches them dozing with their faces smashed against the toms, well after 1am.
They groan and grumble the entire time over having their fun interrupted, but they don't even make it all the way to the guest rooms before fully passing out, instead falling face first onto the couch in unison and immediately starting to snore.
Steve just snorts and lays himself down next to them to keep an eye on them as they sleep.
Baby lounges in the recliner and smirks, Miles tucked firmly into his side.
Steve sits there and keeps his eyes open for as long as he can, before letting them flutter closed and joining them in slumber.
By the time Steve wakes up, inhaling a sharp breath as he does so, Max and Will have migrated across the couch to lay on top of him, stealing his heat for themselves.
He glances over at the recliner.
Miles and Baby are gone.
Steve sighs and takes a calming breath as he holds back tears.
They'll be back. He's not sure when, but they will.
For now... Steve has one last thing to do.
He digs himself out from underneath the pile of limbs, being sure not to wake up Will or Max, and groans as he stretches.
He yawns as he walks down the hallway and opens the sliding door into the backyard.
It's twilight, the sun just beginning to rise, painting the world in a blue-grey light.
He approaches the firepit and starts to dig through the ashes.
Steve grins as he finds the first nail and counts as he picks out the rest of them.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Until he's sure he's collected all of them.
He smirks as he looks down at the twisted nails in the palm of his hand, blackened by the fire.
Thirteen of them.
A devil's dozen.
He takes them inside, upstairs, and into his room, then he dumps them into his desk drawer.
There, they will wait until Steve needs them again.
He has a feeling they won't need to wait very long.
Steve takes a deep breath.
Then he shuts the drawer and turns around to get ready for the day.