remember to do the biphobia/queer hangout post!!
i rlly wanna read it!!<3
Assumption Make an Ass Out of You
Prompt by @whomst-the-hell: steve always knew he was queer fic where steve keeps trying to invite himself to Queer Hangouts w eddie and robin and they keep being like “uhhhh this isnt really your scene…” until steve is finally like “listen i get it ok theres all this fucking stigma but you two are the last people i expected this from!” and eddie and robin are like “youre a very good ally and we appreciate it but the truth is you just cannot relate to some of our experiences and you need to accept that!” and then steve is like “woooaaaahhh hold on i think we’re having two different conversations. i thought you were doing that thing gay ppl do sometimes where they treat bi people like we arent really queer or whatever. did you guys genuinely think i was heterosexual? lol that’s embarrassing”
Gave it a spelling and grammar check before putting it on A03: Assumption Make an Ass Out of You - technically-a-writer-technically (RegularRainbow) - Stranger Things (TV 2016) [Archive of Our Own]
Eddie calls Robin: Birdie
Tags: Angsty, probably a bit ooc, they mean well, their tough love is tough though. Original Male Character/Steve Harrington. I tried learning 80s Slang for this, it lasted several hours and then I wrote this all-in-one sitting, so probably not 80s accurate, especially towards the end. Not beta read, we die like men.
1. Never met an Ally so Good
Tall, Olive Skin, Green Eyes, passed Steve a drink, something pink and yellow, blended ice, with a tiny umbrella and a cherry.
“I didn’t know what you were drinking, but I took my best guess” He said, smile bright as fluorescent lights. The guy was cute in a clinical type of way, clean cut, clean-shaven.
Steve smiled, took the straw from his melting ice in a cup, and gave it a taste, twisting the straw around his tounge. “Ah. Tastes Perfect,”
“Oh, you’re a real maneater aren’t you,” He slipped between Steve’s legs, resting his hands on either side of Steve, boxing him in, “Come on Pretty Boy let me take you for a spin.”
Steve smiled, red decorating the tips of his ears and nose. “Sorry, can’t stay that long gotta drive back to nowhere-ville”
“Alright, Just one dance then, and maybe your number?”
Steve bit the corner of his lip, and smiled “Maybe …” All doe eyes, looking up from under his lashes,“ … maybe you could kiss me?”
“Hey, why don’t you back off” said Eddie, stepping between the two, pushing the guy back with an extended hand.
“Really! I don’t see your name on him” The guy squawked, Steve hadn’t even gotten his name.
“That’s not,” was Eddie’s reply, he sighed “look I’m helping you, trust me, he’s just being nice.”
“Looks like a fucking Belle to me,”
Eddie tilted his head and fixed him with a look, throwing his hand up as if to shrug, and said, “He’s just too nice to tell you to go away.”
“Look there are better ways to get dudes off your guy, you don’t gotta lie,” Then he peeked behind Eddie to get a good look at Steve one more time, and with a wink, he said, “If you ever find yourself in need of French lessons you know where to find me.”
Steve giggled, twirling his straw. (Fucking Flirting.)
Then, Steve said, “You really didn’t need to do that Eddie, I was fine, he was fine.”
“No, he was not fine. He was hitting on you, Steve” Robin chimed in.
“Isn’t that, like, the point of all this. Aren’t we here to get hit on? Flirt a little,” Steve leaned in and whispered, “Wave the white flags, you know what I mean?”
“Yeah, but it’s not cool to lead people on Steve, especially not here.” Eddie said.
Steve winced a little, his smile falling slightly, before he picked it back up, “I mean, there’s no harm in flirting, I didn’t know you guys were gonna get all riled up because I didn’t want to take him home.”
“Look it’s not all about sex, this is about community.” Robin said.
Steve sucked his teeth, and took a swig of his beer, “Okay, uh, whatever, I’m gonna pay for my drinks, and uh, sit in a fucking corner I guess.”
“Grow up, King Steve” Eddie said.
“Fuck you, Eddie, King Steve thinks you should find your own ride home.”
“I mean, we should probably leave.” Robin said.
“No, Rob, if it’s gonna be like that, I’ll just wait in the car.” Steve said. He gathered his things, throwing his coat on, fluffing his hair up and out from under the collar of his a letterman style jacket.
Steve stepped out into the cool night air, face hot with fury. He sighed, trying to release the tension that had begun to build.
“Hey, Pretty Boy, I didn’t get your name before your guard dog cock-blocked.”
“It’s — He’s just a friend. And, Uh, It’s Steve, Yours?”
“My friends call me Ian,”
“Well, Ian, thanks for the drink”
“Really,” Ian said, and it was almost a laugh, “I just had the bartender throw something together, I don’t like that fruity shit, I mean not like that, I just don’t like fruit juice, from fruit,” His talking tapered out. “You’re super cute, and it kind of fries my brain. I mean those pants are too tight.” (Ian say too tight, like he doesn’t mean it, like those pants make him think of something else.)
Steve laughed and looked down at himself, before smiling back at Ian. “Still want my number?”
2. Lavender Menace
Steve dyed the bottom layer of his hair purple. The faintest shade of lavender, barely it, In fact, it was practically silver. But, still, he was sure that everyone who needed to know that it wasn’t silver, would notice. They would notice.
“Did you dye your hair, Steve?” Robin asked, leaning across the Book Store counter to get a good look at his peek-a-boo dye job.
Steve resisted the urge to shake his head and show off. It took a long time to get his hair all nice, he wasn’t gonna mess it up for five seconds of Rob’s appreciation, not after the stunt she and Eddie pulled with Ian.
“Joyce helped,” Steve said, and brushed his fingers through the thick of his hair to show off the dye, just a little bit.
“Don’t you think you should have gone with another color,” Rob said, “You don’t want people to get the wrong idea about you.”
“I —“
“The hoard has arrived,” Eddie declared, as Mike, Will, and Dustin ran in straight for the new comic book section. “Whoa, your hair.” he said.
“Yeah, my hair.” Steve felt the weight of a frown pull at the corners of his mouth.
“You sure that’s the right color?” Eddie grabbed a lock of Steve’s dyed hair, and twirled it between his fingers, “You let the toner sit too long, it’s all purple-y now.”
With a huff, Steve said, “I was going for purple-y”
“Yeah?” Robin said.
“Why?” Eddie said.
“Because I want people to know I’m down with Dorthy” Steve said.
“You shouldn’t have dyed your hair purple, though” Eddie replied.
“Yeah, I agree, I think it’s a bit much … you’ve gone a bit too far this time, and after the bar” Robin said
“W-What do you mean after the bar that was all you guys, I was just having a good time.”
Eddie sighed and looked away, throwing his head back, and disappearing down an isle. “You explain it to your pet jock, Birdie, my head hurts.”
“Look Steve, people don’t need to know you’re ‘down with Dorothy’ it’s better if your not loud about it actually, keeps everyone safer anyway.”
Steve gets hot in the face, bright white-hot red in the cheeks, breaks into a sweat, he’s so mad. Then he’s close to crying, clearing his throat some, but it’s closing in on him. He’s so furious, he’s near tears about it. Dancing around breaking into tears.
If they didn’t like his hair, they could have just said that.
“Whatever you say, Robin” he said, wetly.
“Steve come on, it’s not your life, it’s ours” was Robin’s reply.
He doesn’t speak to her for the rest of their shift.
When Steve got home, he dialed Ian’s house. Ian was there in five minutes flat (He lived 15 minutes away).
“Wow,” Ian said, “Your hair”
“Yeah, I know it’s awful” Steve said, the memory of his earlier conversations brought up sour thoughts.
“No, no, you look pretty, a real bodacious babe.”
Steve smiled, for the first time since he got of shift. “Shut up,”
“Kiss me about it,” was Ian’s reply.
3. Steve’s House Doesn’t have a Purple Door.
“You could have your party at my place?” Steve said, “My parents aren’t gonna be home for another like month anyway”
Eddie smiled at Robin,
“Plus, I’m great at throwing parties, you remember my parties.”
“I don’t think we,” Eddie gestured between himself and Robin, “Were ever invited to King Steve’s famous parties.”
“Yeah, sorry about that,” Steve said, “But they were famous for a reason. Have it at my place, it makes sense. The venue is like 50% of a party.”
“I was thinking, no allies though” Eddie said, “Just queer deviancy,” Eddie brought the devil hands up to his head like ears and smiled at Robin. They fist bumped.
What they meant was no Steve it seemed.
“Hey, can you pick us up? Robin voice came through the phone loud, like she was shouting on her end of the line.
“From where?” Steve asked.
“A party,” Robin said, Steve felt her wiggle her eyebrows, and she giggled softly.
“I need the location?” Steve said.
“Oh, um, were near Byrock Ct,”
“Okay, I’ll be there in a few.”
Steve got in his car and drove to the Byrock Bar, with its purple backdoor. Ian took him there once, and they danced. Steve loved dancing, it was nice letting go.
This didn’t feel nice.
Robin and Eddie crammed into the backseat of his car, laughing, tipsy, and maybe a little high. Covered in glitter. Eddie had red lipstick on and smeared down his chin. Robin was wearing, glitter gloss and a silvery highlighter.
“You guys look like you had fun,” Steve finally said, before he pulled off.
“I thought you guys were gonna stay in tonight,”
“Steve,” Robin said, it seemed with no real purpose at all, except maybe to stop Steve from going on.
“No, I remember you guys saying that nothing fun was happening tonight so you guys weren’t going out, that’s what you told me!” Steve said, he was white-knuckling the steering wheel.
“Look, Steve, Birdie’s not gonna tell you, but sometimes we’ve got to leave poor ol’ Stevie at home.” Eddie said, kicking his feet up on the block of an armrest between the driver’s and passenger’s seat.
“Not every night is meant to include you, sometimes daddy’s got to come out and play” He said with a smile and a laugh.
Robin sputtered, “Ew, ew, I never want to hear you say something like that again.”
The drive home consisted of laughter and chatter between Eddie and Robin.
Steve pulled up to the entrance of Eddie’s trailer park, it was a short walk, maybe two trailers in was Eddie’s home. Usually, Steve drove him right up to the entrance, any closer and Eddie would fall into his home after opening the door.
“We’re here” Steve said, and put his car in park.
Eddie balked, “Really, are you being serious right now Stevie?”
“Shut up, don’t call me that.” Steve said, quickly, afraid he sounded like a petulant child, but angry enough that it didn’t matter much. “Get out of my car.” He said each word, one by one.
“Okay, King Steve, I’ll never ask for a ride with getting you your invite.”
“You’re a real fuck head, Eddie.”
“Whatever,” Eddie said, and slammed the door.
“That wasn’t fair dude,” Robin said. “How are we supposed to trust you if-”
Steve turned around, giving Robin a death stare, “Nothing, I don’t want to hear it, I, fuck Rob, I trusted you guys”
“Steve?”
“Shut. Up. Shut up.”
He dropped Rob off in front of her house, didn’t even pull into the driveway. He watched her get home safe, same way he did Eddie.
4. Steve’s Queer Agenda
Steve hasn’t been talking to them. He’s not gonna apologize first. And he’s not gonna speak to them until they apologize. Even if he felt like a bitch laying the silent treatment on thick.
Ian was rubbing his back, letting him lay all over him.
He mumbled into Ian’s lap.
“I can not understand jibberish.”
“Play with my hair, loser”
“Ooh, be nice.” Ian said, threading his finger into Steve’s hair.
There was a knock at the door, nice and sweet. Then another, practically knocking the door off its hinges.
“Okay, okay, coming” Steve shouted.
“Harrington residence, how can I help you?” Steve said.
Eddie smiled, pushing himself and Robin into the Harrington homestead.
Ian leaned up, peering over the sofa. He was looking for Steve, evident by the smile on his face, that fell quickly when he saw the culprits making Steve so, well, sad. Sad was the only way to put it. Beneath the quiet anger was hurt, and it hurt more than it made Steve angry. “Well, well, if it isn’t the terrible two-some”
“Bar guy?” Eddie said.
“Ian. My name is Ian.”
“Well, what are you two doing here because I don’t hear enough ass-kissing.” Ian said.
“Look,” Eddie said, looking from Ian to Steve “Maybe we all have the wrong idea,”
“Steve, I’m sorry we told you not to come out with us, and then had you come pick us up,” Robin said.
“Me too, I’m sorry” Eddie said.
“You’re a good ally” Eddie started.
“Are you fucking kidding me!” Steve interrupted. “Why even come if you’re just gonna fucking invalidate me to my face, what’s the point? I get it, I’m bisexual. I’m not gay. Fucking, Steve’s not queer enough to come out with us and get shitfaced. Whatever, call me whatever you want behind my back, but in my house? Really!”
“What?” Robin and Eddie said, practically in unision.
“Look, be biphobic somewhere else, okay. I don’t feel like dealing with this ever again.”
“No, no, I thought you were straight,”, “We,” Eddie gestured between himself and Robin, “thought you were straight.” Eddie practically tripped over his words, he was speaking them so fast.
“Are you fucking with me?” Steve said, “You thought I was straight.”
Eddie hesitantly nods, “We maybe thought you were straight.”
“Fucking, fuck you guys,”
“Yeah, fuck you guys” Ian said, repeated from the couch, laying down ergo he wasn’t visible anymore. “You made my boyfriend cry”
Robin looked horrified, “Steve, I didn’t know, I’m so so sorry. I never meant to make you feel like you didn’t have a community.” She quickly wiped away her tears, evidently determined not to cry right now, as she got red and sniffly. Robin walked toward Steve arms out like she was going to try to hug him. She was.
Robin said, “Can I hug you, Steve”
Steve, who had been trying to keep it all together, sniffled. He wasn’t going to cry if she wasn’t. He was supposed to be mad. He wrapped his arms around her, and buried his head in her shoulder.
Steve wanted to be angry, or he felt like he should be angry. Yet, he wasn’t, he was mad at them for making assumptions, for excluding him.
But, they were family. He’d been mad at them for as long he could, and then he’d taken to gray, blah, sadness. Not crying, but like trying to stave off a rainstorm. There was nothing he wanted to hear more than: we accept you.
It helped take the edge off. He could be mad about it later, take in all their forgiveness now.
“I’m really sorry, Steve, really, really, sorry” Robin said.
“We fucked up, Steve, I fucked up. I’m sorry too. I’m really sorry.” Eddie said.
“Now kiss,” Ian chimed in.
Steve laughed.
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only i must wander, pt. 4
[on ao3] [pt 1] [pt 2] [pt 3]
content warnings: discussions of death, kidnapping, drug use, and cannibalism, internalized homophobia, character considers self-harm
Colors looked different inside the Munson trailer. Steve didn't know if it was the lightbulbs, flickering in the ceiling, or how cramped the living room was, but everything was so warm that it made the world seem yellow. And it was cramped, the furniture pushed out into the middle of the floor to make room for the shelves and shelves of mugs and hats on the walls. It was more cluttered than Steve cared for, haphazard in a way that made his fingers itch-- He kept his room bare of his own volition, needing as much space as possible so he didn't wake up thinking the walls were closing in on him. It would make him claustrophobic to stay here for too long, Steve thought, but it was cozy enough to spend time in. It seemed kinder than his house, for sure.
And for all its mess, it was obvious that someone worked very hard to keep it clean. Under all the clutter there was no dust or debris. He could see where stains had been before and then scrubbed until they had come clean, the spots dots of lightness amongst the dinge of age. Some parts of the couch and the old, big recliner had been patched up, fresh blocks of fabric and clean, white stitches.
Steve hesitated in the doorway, taking it all in. It was hard to imagine that they were standing in the lair of two werewolves. He knew they weren't real werewolves, at least not the kind he'd seen in horror movies, with the moons and silver and freaking out once a month. It still seemed weird to imagine one cradling porcelain in his big paws, or curling up on a neat, mended couch.
Eddie came up behind Steve, shoulder-bumping him out of the way to get into the trailer. Steve moved for him, wordless, but Eddie turned before he had even really cleared the door.
"Probably not what King Steve is used to, huh?" Eddie said, the kind of nonchalant that echoed so often in highschool hallways, the kind that meant they were itching for a fight. "Sorry about that."
Steve's first impulse was to ask Eddie not to call him that. He'd always hated it, thought it was a pretty stupid nickname for a guy whose life was spiralling out of control, but Billy had made it into something toxic. Billy had wanted it so badly that it warped itself to meet that want. Not a stupid nickname his friends had given him, but a title that meant something-- Something that Steve had never wanted to be. Thankfully, after graduation the name had fallen out of use. Largely, Steve assumed, because outside of school it became extremely apparent that he wasn't the King of much of anything. But here Eddie was, still stuck within those walls, and calling Steve that name that made his skin crawl.
He couldn't make himself put a stop to it, though-- Mostly because he wasn't sure if Eddie would listen. Eddie had never been a bully, to Steve's knowledge, but he was obviously looking for a fight. Steve hadn't learned much in school, but one of the lessons that had stuck was that an angry man will use any weakness to his advantage; If Eddie knew the name bothered him, it might be his name until the end of time.
And, if Steve were being honest, Eddie made him a little nervous. Always had. It was something about the eyes, Steve thought, because they were so big and honest and... Well, Steve had always been a little afraid of Eddie seeing too much when he looked at him. Or feeling too much from what he saw there. Maybe both. Maybe Steve couldn't stand the thought of either. It had been enough to make Steve avoid Eddie in high school, and now it left him frozen under Eddie's challenging stare.
"It's, uh-- It's really warm in here," Steve said, wincing at his own words. He honestly had no idea what to say; He'd barely learned to talk to Robin like a normal person, and Eddie seemed like a much harder sell. Just to smooth things over, Steve muttered, "I like it."
Eddie just looked at him for a moment, eyebrows furrowed, and when the silence grew too long, Steve looked away and shuffled over to the couch, dropping into the seat between Robin and Dustin. Wayne had taken the over-stuffed recliner across from them, and after a moment, Eddie followed him, propping himself against the large back and staring down at the odd group on his couch. It might have been menacing, if Eddie hadn't look so confused.
"So, Harrington," Wayne said, so abruptly that Steve sat up straighter on reflex. Wayne Munson wasn't anything like his high school coaches, but he commanded the same level of respect. An air of minor authority surrounded him, his jurisdiction small but his control total. " You gonna tell me what the hell you were thinking, coming to a Blutbad's lair in the middle of the night, poking around? With two kids with you, no less."
As Steve flushed at the gentle reprimand, Robin protested."I'm only, like, a year younger than Steve, you know."
Wayne didn't seem too swayed by that knowledge, and Steve knew he was content to simply wait for an answer. He didn't look pissed, just concerned, which made Steve squirm under his gaze. There was nothing worse than someone who was just genuinely worried you might be a complete idiot. It would be so easy to tell him all the truth and blame it all on Dustin, but that wouldn't fix the problem. Steve was trying to present himself as an adult, someone who was grown up and put together enough to be out hunting down a kidnapper. Being bullied into stupid shit by a literal child wasn't exactly the best proof of that.
Steve had never been a great liar, though. His parents had all but demanded it of him, when they still cared enough to be around. Nothing huge, of course, nothing that could be traced back to them, but enough to present their son as a better version of himself. He'd struggled with it for awhile, and then figured out that while he would never be a good liar, he was pretty good at pretending.
It was startingly easy to pretend to be his father, for instance. That had been an easy one, to start with-- He'd been cataloguing his father's every gesture for years, after all. Watching the movements of his hands and the way he held his head was the only way Steve had ever been able to predict his father's moods. So when it came time to lie, Steve just did what his father obviously wanted him to, and... became him. The way he put his hands in his pockets when he didn't want to say hello to someone beneath him, the way he pouted, gently disapproving, whenever anyone else spoke. His parents adored it; Thought it was a sign of him growing up. Their friends ate it up.
That little trick of his had gotten him far in school, too. The boys that terrified him were always nicer when he mirrored their own bodies back at them, and whenever that failed, Steve just copied Tommy. It had kept him alive in middle school, and when his growth spurt hit in the summer before high school, it was enough to catapult him into popularity.
It worked like a charm until everyone realised he was stupid. Then, at least, they called him well-behaved, teachers and his father's coworkers alike, but there was always a trace of pity to it. Like they were looking at an animal, kicked often but too dumb and well-trained to run. Of course, that offered its own benefits, especially with girls. They liked someone they didn't have to worry about hitting on their friends, and their mothers liked that their daughters might marry someone who wouldn't put their own ambitions above their families.
Steve had never liked it, not his own behavior or the way people responded to it, but it was necessary.
He doubted Wayne would appreciate it, though. He didn't seem the type to be impressed by Bradley Harrington, much less a cheap imitation of him. Mirroring Wayne was too much of a risk, of course; The man was miles smarter than the dumbass teens of Steve's youth, and if he fucked it up it would come off mocking. Steve could mirror Eddie, easy, because he knew Eddie's mannerisms and they were large and loud and beautiful, but Eddie didn't exactly strike Steve as an effective negotiator. If he was, Steve doubted he would have signed up for a third senior year.
Who did that leave? Steve considered Hop, but too much of the man's personality was tied up in being a cop. The last thing Steve needed was to be accusatory after getting caught in the man's yard in the middle of the night. It needed to be an adult, though, Steve knew. He needed to be an adult.
The only other adult Steve knew was Joyce Byers.
That... could work, Steve thought to himself, watching Wayne's face shift into annoyance. Joyce was motherly and kind, when she wasn't ripping apart the universe to get to her son. People liked her. People liked her a whole lot more than they liked Steve, that was for sure. Plus, she was the kind of person Wayne would like-- Stubborn and passionate, but down to earth. Relatable. And, the best part was, she almost always got her way, no matter how hard to please she was.
So Steve kept his face open and honest, blinked slower. He relaxed his shoulders but kept his body tight, crossing his legs at the ankles. He settled further into the couch, keeping his elbows by his side and his hands in his lap. Steve felt Robin shift nervously next to him, probably wondering what the hell Steve was doing, and without thought Steve reached out to pat her on the leg. Not the possessive, stroking way a boyfriend would, but... chaste and gentle. Maternal.
Robin made a small noise of surprise as Steve returned his hand to his own lap, but Steve was focused more on the look of disgust that flashed across Eddie's face.
"I'm sorry for the trouble," Steve said, polite but not overly refined. Plain. Upfront. That was him, now. "We didn't mean anything by it, I promise. We're just in a tough spot, and we were hoping you knew somebody that could help us."
Wayne shifted in his chair, looking faintly amused. "I'm listening."
Steve sighed, reaching for the deeper emotions he'd seen written all over Joyce's face. Frazzled and determined. Tired. Make eye contact, widen the eyes. Lean forward and drop the volume. "Something bad is happening to the kids in Indiana right now, Wayne," Steve said. His hands clenched in his lap. "I don't know if you've heard anything, but Robin and Dustin both came to me with stories of kids who have just gone missing. No sign of them. And I know there's always a runaway or two, but this is a lot of kids. Most of them Wesen. And I've been looking into it, and there's... There's evidence that it might be a Blutbad who's doing it. And I--"
As he spoke, Wayne's face hadn't changed, but Eddie's had. His expression got darker and stormier with every word, and when Steve brought up Blutbader, he nearly exploded. "If you think you can come in here and accuse us of--"
"No, Eddie," Steve said, soothing. Thinning his voice out a little, to sound a little more worn. Exhausted. "Of course not. You wouldn't-- You've more than proven you wouldn't do that, okay? We may not have ever been friends, but I was paying attention for the past four years, you know. Besides, Robin wouldn't have let me get this far if I hadn't been."
"The kid was less convinced," Robin said, and Steve could practically feel her pointed smirk.
"How was I supposed to know!" Dustin protested from the other end of the couch. Steve looped an arm around his shoulders, rubbing squeezing him just a little. He needed the kid to chill out. "I'm not allowed in the high school yet! I've tried!"
"And what's the reason you think this is a Blutbad?" Wayne asked, with the air of a man who was very used to speaking over a loud child.
"The lack of a pattern. I know it's not much to go on, but-- Most of these kids have nothing in common," Steve said, laying the case out as best he could. "There's no school that crops up more than the others. They're all different ages. Even the gender is split right down the middle. Whoever-- or whatever -- is doing this doesn't have a type, and from what I understand that would strange with a human culprit."
"Most other Wesens have strict seasons and grounds for hunting," Robin added. "Some of them even have preferred species. There's none of that, here. It's all just random, like it's going for whatever Wesen kid crosses it's path."
"With a few human kids in the mix for good measure," Dustin said, and Steve nodded.
"Unless someone has lost it so hard they've warped their own prey drive, it's hard to imagine that this could be anything other than a Blutbad whose chosen prey is... well." Steve hesitated, not sure how else to put it. "Kids. Does that sound like anything you've heard of before?"
Wayne shifted in his chair. To someone else, it might have seemed like an old man settling further into his favorite chair, but Steve clocked the stiffness in Wayne's shoulders and the nervous twitch of his fingers. Something had unsettled him. That either meant he hadn't considered it before, or that he hadn't expected anyone to figure it out-- And either was a pretty good result for Steve.
"Can't say I've heard of that specific type, no," Wayne eventually said, his drawl elongating further with thought. "But... can't rule it out, either. Lots of Blutbads I knew had weird types. No one really talks about them, of course. Isn't polite. But you know how it is."
Steve didn't really want to think about the intricacies of Blutbader culture right now. "... Right," he said, shaking his head. "So, you can see why we thought it might have been--"
"So why come here, then?" Wayne said, interrupting Steve's effort at pushing the conversation along. "If you didn't think it was me or Eddie, why come here at all?"
Joyce's shrug was deeper than Steve was used to, almost an anxious twitch, with both shoulders high around his ears. "To be honest with you, sir," Steve said, "I don't know very much about Blutbader. We were hoping you could fill us in on anything that might help. If there's anything you know about any other Blutbader in Indiana, especially."
"Uh-huh." Wayne's eyebrow stayed high, and it didn't look like it was going to budge anytime soon. "And what's that got to do with you snooping around in my backyard?"
Oh, fuck it, Steve thought. He was going to have to throw Dustin under the bus, anyway.
"... Well, Dustin insisted on coming along," Steve said, with a mother's rueful smile. "I didn't expect him to rush back there, either, but, well... Kids, you know?"
Before Steve could finish the sentence, Dustin had dug his heel full-force into Steve's shin, and he aimed to hurt. Usually, Steve would have just grabbed the little shit in a loose chokehold and shook him around until he begged for mercy (or, more likely, until Steve got bored) but that wouldn't be very Joyce of him. Instead, Steve smacked Dustin's arm with the back of his hand, lightly, like he had seen Joyce do to Hopper when he made jokes she didn't think was funny.
Before Dustin could escalate things further (and Steve just knew he was raring up for it, too, the bitchy little gleam in Dustin's eyes brighter than ever), Wayne's laughter broke through their quiet squabble. Steve looked up at the Blutbad, a little shocked, and felt that shock grow when he saw the fond, wistful smile on Wayne's face.
"Y'all remind me too much of my little brother. He never knew how to keep out of trouble, either," Wayne said, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. It was a memory, a compliment, and a warning all at once, Steve realized, though it was one he really didn't have context for. He glanced up at Eddie for a clue and all he found was pain, Eddie's face creased with a grimace.
Steve wanted to help, to smooth out the lines of Eddie's face, but that was a little hard when he knew he was the one causing Eddie to make it in the first place. Looking back at Wayne, Steve forced himself to concentrate, so he could stop ruining the Munson's night and let them live their lives in whatever peace Hawkins could grant them. It was the least he could do.
Wayne also seemed to sober, though his eyes were still faraway and hazy. He said, "I won't lie to you, son. I heard about the kids. There's been people whispering about it for years now, way back to when that Byers boy came back. Didn't know it had gotten so bad currently, though. Only thing I've heard recent was... God, must have been gone six months or so, now. There's a man who used'ta work the line with me, most nights. One night he doesn't come in, and everyone's worried because, well, Rick ain't the kind to forget to call in. But then the office girl comes out, near tears, talkin'bout how the cops can't find him, neither. Turns out he'd gone to the store before work to pick up some things for dinner, and when he'd come home she was gone. She was just a little thing, six or seven, I think. Not old enough to run away. Craziest thing was, the doors were still locked. Everything was exactly the way he had left it. The cops couldn't find no trace of anybody in that house but Rick and his wife. The man didn't take it well, apparently. When the cops called us, we knew he didn't do nothing wrong, but... Well, they found him a couple days later, in the woods, still looking for her. Can't say I blame him."
Steve struggled to unstick his tongue from the roof of his dry mouth long enough to ask, "They never found her?"
"Nah," Wayne said, shaking his head. "I wasn't following the case real close, of course. Felt too weird, knowin' Rick and all. Last I heard, they didn't have much to go on."
Horror filled Steve's lungs with every heartbeat. Steve was no stranger to his own reaction to the stories of the missing kids, but he had at least hoped that with all he'd read over the past week, he might have built up a tolerance. Apparently, he'd had no such luck. If anything, it was worse now. It wasn't fictional, and it wasn't in the impersonal voice of the crime reporter. It was just a man who'd seen his friend lose the one person he loved most in the world, and Steve's chest ached with it.
He thought, as always, of Will. And Barb, if he was being honest. Because while he knew what happened to Barb, it never got any easier to imagine what her parents must have felt, not knowing. No matter what Nancy thought, he had never forgotten. He tried, all the time. When the guilt got too big to hold on his own, he tried to limit it to Will, tried to force things back into the size a teenage boy was supposed to handle. But then it only grew, as Steve had to acknowledge he was only abandoning Barb again.
He tried to reach for Joyce's character, but there's no help there. She would be perfect-- Incredibly compassionate and understanding. She would take Wayne's hand, even, and ask if there was anything she could do. Steve can't do that. Not because he doesn't want to; Wayne looks haunted by something he never even saw, and Steve wishes he could fix that, but he also knows he's not allowed.
Fixing things was never Steve's role in the story. He never got to be the one who loved or the one who heals for very long. When he was very lucky, he got to be the hero, but most of the time he felt like some impersonal, distant villain. At the very least, some rich asshole who stood at the edge of a grieving community and watched, never really understanding.
So, instead, Steve froze.
"I... I'm so sorry, Mr. Munson," Robin said, her voice genuine but unsure. "That must have been terrible to go through."
"You don't gotta apologize to me, girl," Wayne said, gruff. "Wasn't my burden. I'm lucky enough to say that my kid is right here at home, safe as anything." Despite his words, Wayne looked disturbed by his own story, as if he was imagining a world where Robin's apology was a little more apt, and there was no nephew to stand guard behind his chair.
Anticipating his uncle's mood, Eddie said, "I can take care of myself, Wayne."
Sheer contrariness pulled Wayne out of his melancholy. He shifted back in his chair to stare up at his nephew with a stern frown. "Did I say you couldn't?"
Steve still wasn't sure what to say, his brain instead latching on to the ease of the dynamic between Eddie and Wayne. Eddie definitely wasn't a kid, but it seemed... sweet, that Wayne still thought of him as one. As his kid. Steve wasn't sure his own parents had thought of him that way in years. Before he could descend too far into self-pity, he felt Dustin tuck himself further in Steve's side.
Immediately, his attention was on the kid. Although Dustin wouldn't look at him, staring angrily at a burn mark in the carpet, Steve had to assume that it was fear that pushed him into Steve's arms. Fear or grief, one. If it reminded Steve of Barb, then it had to remind Dustin of Will. And Dustin was a child. Just a kid, and none of this was his fault, and if Steve couldn't shake off his own grief and do something about Dustin's, then could he even call himself an adult?
He ran his hand up and down Dustin's back, the way his favorite nanny used to do for him when he got upset, and hoped it helped. There was nothing else he could do right now, besides finding more information about whatever did this.
"That's exactly why we're here, Mr. Munson. I... I know it's probably a long shot," he confessed, "but I'd like to bring that little girl home, if I can. And if I can't, then... Then I at least want to make sure that no more kids go missing. More than that, we need people to know that their kids are safe again. When parents start to connect the dots, it's going to get bad out there."
"It's bad enough after what happened to Will and Barb," Dustin said, sullenly, and Steve fought not to flinch at her name said out loud.
"No more dangerous animal than a scared animal," Wayne said, softly, and Steve couldn't help but tilt his head at the familiarity of the phrase.
"...My dad says that all the time," Steve said, wondering if it was some Wesen parable that he'd missed.
Wayne didn't confirm or deny Steve's implication, just smiled wryly and said, "Well, I reckon he would know."
And then, after a moment where Steve searched for the right words to say, Wayne continued, "You know, you keep poking into this, you're gonna end up facing something a lot more dangerous than some scared parents. Blutbader have been hunting for longer than Grimms have even existed. That's old power, especially for a youngin' like you. You sure you're willing to risk your life for some monsters just because they look like kids?"
Steve knew he didn't really believe that. Wayne didn't seem the kind to hate himself, no matter what he had done in the past. He seemed level-headed, realistic, in a way that just didn't line up with calling kids monsters. But that didn't mean it didn't piss Steve off. It was Wayne's tone of voice that got Steve more than anything, really.
There was a voice that adults only used when they were testing you, when they knew the answer and they probably knew what you were going to say, but they wanted you to say it out loud. Steve hated that voice. He hated that every adult in the world thinks he needs to be tested. He hates that they're all so sure that they deserve to test him. He hates that they just can't seem to ask what they're really asking. He hates that they can't believe him when he speaks.
He hates that everyone on earth seems to think he's either evil or incompetent.
Steve can feel the woge settle across his face, jerking like a twitching muscle, but he doesn't try to stop it. Adrenaline surges in his blood, but he doesn't feel the usual compulsion to fight and tear and rend. It's easy to keep himself in the chair, and for once Steve doesn't feel out of control. He feels powerful.
When he speaks, his voice is clear.
"I know you don't really believe that," Steve said, because it's less confrontational than telling Wayne that he's the reason Steve hates people older than 18, as a general rule. "They're children, not monsters. And even if they were, that doesn't mean they deserve to be hurt."
Steve's woge forces Wayne's, the same instinctual shift that Steve seems to inspire in Wesen, but unlike with El or Robin, Wayne's Blutbader face was gone just as quickly as it came. And that was... interesting. Steve's eyes narrowed as he took in Wayne's unbothered appearance. It was all odd, wasn't it? They had been looking into each other's eyes the entire time, and Wayne had never so much as flinched away until Steve woged in his face. There was no shock or horror in whatever he found in the shadowy depths of Steve's eyes, and Steve very much doubted that Wayne had less to be guilty about than Robin Buckley.
Was it all Blutbader who could fight their own instincts so well, or was Wayne Munson special?
Unable to stop his own curiosity, Steve looked up and deliberately met Eddie's eyes. Eddie didn't woge again, but he met Steve's gaze only for a moment before awkwardly shifting his weight and looking away. Steve supposed that answered his question. It was less of an inherited skill and more of a learned one, though it was obvious that Wayne had taught Eddie a little of it. That was the only reason that Steve could think that the likes of Tommy Hagan and his merry bands of meatheads were still alive after tormenting Eddie and his friends for five years.
It was impressive, to be sure, but also a little bit worrying, if Steve was honest with himself. The eyes, as far as he understood, were supposed to be a Grimm's last fail-safe. Something to protect himself with, give a raging Wesen pause, when traditional means failed. The fact that some Wesen could just ignore that last line of defense wasn't a great sign for Steve's future odds of survival.
More than that, if the eyes were supposed to inspire guilt and self-loathing, why were the Munsons so immune to it? The only options Steve could figure were that they were really good at controlling their own feelings, or they just weren't capable of feeling guilt. And Steve would love for the first to be reality, he really would, but the idea of a Wesen in Hawkins with no genuine conscience unsettled him.
Even as Steve promised himself to keep an eye on these two, he wished he didn't have to. He wished he was allowed to believe the best in people, wished he didn't have to make lists in his head of people most likely to hurt children. Because, when it came down to it, he liked Wayne. A lot. He thought that Wayne would get along with Hopper, probably, if Hopper could accept the way Wayne didn't seem to be moved by much. A dad like him would have been amazing. Steve couldn't imagine Wayne freaking out because of the color of shirt Eddie wanted to wear, or if he wanted to try out for the school play.
Steve wanted Wayne to be a good person. He really, really did. He just didn't know if he could believe it, yet.
"I have to admit, Mr. Munson," Steve said, settling back into the couch and forcing his muscles to unclench. "You're not what I thought you'd be."
Wayne laughed, though there wasn't much humor to it. "I could say the same thing about you, Harrington. Eddie always told me you were at least gracious enough to keep your teammates from publically humiliating him and his friends, but I figured that would change once you were... aware," he said, and Steve flushed at the idea of Eddie bringing home stories about him. God knew the kind of things Wayne must have heard. "It's a nice surprise to see it hasn't. Guess I should have figured, since you didn't cause problems for Eddie last year."
"Last year?" Steve asked. Did he even talk to Eddie last year? He didn't think so, but so much of last fall was a blur. He looked up at Eddie, askance.
"Last autumn, when you-- After you quit basketball, I noticed something was off," Eddie said. He still wouldn't make eye contact, and a light blush was beginning to creep across his face. Steve got it; It was never fun being caught caring more than you should. "Figured it was probably you coming into your Grimm... ness. Sorry if you didn't want anyone to know about it, but I was freaked out and needed to tell Wayne. You never did anything, though. Not even when Billy--"
"Billy isn't worth it," Steve said, quickly. That was the reason he had given himself, anyway. He meant it, too. Billy was an asshole, and Steve would do anything to keep him away from Lucas, but it wasn't worth living with the guilt of ruining a huma like Steve knew a Grimm could. At least, that was the only explanation he had now for why he couldn't beat one teen boy after taking down several demonic dogs in a junkyard. He hadn't used his bat on Billy, after all, and some part of him hadn't wanted to fight back.
So maybe Eddie was right. Maybe Steve's powers had started coming in after one too many fights against the demodicks. It certainly made more sense then them coming upon him randomly one spring day. Then again, Eddie didn't know about demogorgons or El or any of it, so to Eddie it must have seemed pretty random, anyway.
Steve was pretty curious about the logic there. "Wait, why did you think it had to do with my powers?"
Eddie shrugged, gaze darting all over the room. "You didn't... care about anything. Not, like, in a 'cool' way. You didn't talk to anyone, not even when they were yelling in your face. You quit the basketball team, you were sitting right next to me everytime the principal lectured us about our grades... I mean, fuck, man, I'm pretty sure you didn't even flinch the first time Wheeler and Byers walked into the cafeteria holding hands," Eddie said, and Steve couldn't even remember the day he was talking about. "Whatever happened, it had to be huge, and I figured discovering monsters were real was about as big as it could get. I skipped as much school as possible trying to dodge the oncoming woge."
It was a surprise to know that Eddie had noticed. Sure, the malaise his life had been consumed by that semester didn't actually have anything to do with being a Grimm-- If he had to guess, Steve would say it was probably the lingering concussion. But Eddie had been looking enough to notice. And that was... That was a lot to think about. Steve was a little dismayed to learn that he'd had Eddie's attention on him all this time and he hadn't had the opportunity to do anything about it. He would have to chalk it up to another thing the Upside Down had taken from him, he supposed.
"So you can see why we were a little suspicious when you showed up tonight," Wayne said. And, yeah, that made sense. They thought he was a full-fledged Grimm, completely in his power for going on a year. That would be enough to scare anyone.
Clearing things up would make working together in the future, Steve realised, but keeping his own past in mystery would offer him more control. It turned out that adults weren't that different then high schools; They all feared what they didn't know. They worshipped the mysterious, mocked the sincere, and gossiped incessantly. Still, Steve was tired of ruling with fear-- Tired of ruling anything at all.
"I'll be honest, the whole 'Grimm' thing has been slow going. I only started to woge after graduation," Steve confessed. "I've been getting stronger-- I think you were right, it started last year, but it comes and goes. Everything else is... sporadic, at best."
"Kinda young for a Grimm," Wayne remarked, which was news to Steve. Not much in the books had been mentioned about other Grimms' awakenings. "Your parents must have been surprised."
"Yeah, they definitely... Definitely were not expecting it," Steve said, stuttering around the fact that he had no plans to let them know. He can't have them asking too many questions, can't just show the big, blinding weakness in his own chest. "I don't think they planned to tell me until later, I-- I still don't feel very... Grimm. It hasn't really settled in yet, I don't think. My abilities still feel like me, not some magic thing, and I... Sorry, I guess what I'm trying to say is, you have nothing to worry about. I'm barely a Grimm. I've spent the last six months just trying to keep the people I care about safe."
He doesn't elaborate, hoping they will simply assume he's talking about his parents, or Dustin and Robin beside him. There's not enough time to go into all the details of the things he's had to do in the past two years, and he doesn't trust them enough to mention El, yet.
It was just a throwaway half-lie, a small justification as to why Steve wasn't trained as a Grimm that didn't go into all the stupid drama his family brought with them, so Steve was surprised to see a frown on Eddie's face. He still wasn't looking at Steve, but to the right of him, his eyes all but boring into Robin's forehead. Steve's mind caught on that, long enough to be embarassing, until he realised what it meant-- What it would always mean, for boys like Steve.
Because it made sense now, why Eddie had looked so upset when Robin was the one by Steve's side. Why he had immediately tried to start a fight. It was so blindingly obvious, the only kind of signs that Steve had ever been good at reading: Eddie had a crush on Robin.
The jealousy was swift and unpleasant. Before Steve could even really process the emotion, he could hear himself bemoan how unfair it was, how Steve hadn't even gotten to look at Eddie properly, and how he was already untouchable. And, really, the pettiest part of him complained, what did Robin have that Steve didn't?
They were ridiculous, unfair thoughts. Steve felt his stomach churn, and he made himself look away from Eddie, his eyes unfocusing in the swirl of colored mugs. It was a bad habit, these little obsessions of his, one that apparently he hadn't kicked as well as he thought. And Steve had thought he'd beaten it. It had been months since he sat up at night, thinking about another man's hands. He'd really thought it was over.
Part of him wanted to blame Eddie for it, even though his rationality knew it was no one's fault but Steve. There was always a part of Steve that had known Eddie was pretty, always paid a little more attention to him than others, but at the time Steve had been mostly tied up in Tommy. Tommy's hair, Tommy's smile, Tommy's freckles. Whatever Eddie Munson was faded into background noise. Being with Nancy had let him pour all his compuslion into something good, something wholesome, but now he was alone and Eddie was here. Steve couldn't stop the tug in his stomach when he thought about Eddie's eyes.
The worst part was how selfish it was. People were hurt. Steve had a job to do. It was the worst possible time to be thinking about the plushness of Eddie's mouth, or the way his curls would get frizzy at the temples after gym. The worst possible time to linger over the strength of his hands, or the way his nose wrinkled when he smiled. The worst possible time to focus on trying to see the flash of his tongue when he spoke or--
Steve was the most selfish person in the world. It was the only explanation for why he was doing this now, when so much was at stake and he knew Eddie wanted someone else, anyway. It didn't even make sense, really, why he felt so suddenly betrayed. He had been able to put his own emotions to the side when Nancy showed up with Jonathan last fall, because the kids needed all of them focused and ready. So why couldn't he stop thinking of ways to make Eddie look at him when he barely knew the guy?
"So why aren't your parents the ones trying to find these kids, then?" Wayne said, breaking through Steve's panicked thoughts. The pool of guilt in Steve's stomach grew as he flushed, embarassed to have been caught daydreaming about Wayne's nephew in their own living room.
"Wh-- Like I said, they're out of town," Steve replied, trying to gather the scattered thread of his own lies. "Business trip."
"Uh-huh. And is that Grimm business?" Wayne asked. A little too curiously, for Steve's taste. Though he supposed he did owe the man whatever information he wanted, at this point.
"Honestly, sir, my parents aren't really the kind of people who let me in on that sort of thing. They come and they go and business is business," Steve said, trying to sound confident that this was all completely normal and absolutely did not bother him at all. Which, it probably wouldn't if monsters hadn't gotten involved. He was sure there were tons of people who practically raised themselves after age 12.
"Fair enough," Wayne said, and to his credit he didn't even look disappointed. "If I had to do what your parents do, I can't say that I'd be letting Eddie get involved."
It was a sweet sentiment, but Steve doubted that was why his parents kept him in the dark about so much of their lives. He didn't tell Wayne that much, though. It was difficult, though, because Steve was almost sure that Wayne knew more about Steve's parents than Steve himself. It was his best bet towards getting any kind of information, but to get it he'd have to admit that he was going into all this blind. That wasn't exactly a smart play, even if Wayne was completely on the up-and-up. The last thing Steve needed was for people to start talking about how the only Grimm in Hawkins didn't know what the fuck he was doing.
"Since my parents won't be coming to fix this anytime soon, what can you tell me about Blutbader packs in the area?" Steve asked, trying to steer this mess of an evening back on course.
"I hate to break it to you, son, but officially there are no Blutbader packs in Indiana," Wayne said with a sigh.
"I told you!" Robin hissed in Steve's ear. He shoved her away, gently, watching Eddie's face crease with pain.
Fuck.
"When Eddie and I moved here, I chose Hawkins for a reason," Wayne continued. "Your parents offered me a deal that was hard to refuse, of course, but ultimately it was the lack of a proper pack that made it a good place to raise a wieder cub. Of course, that's probably their doing, too. Most packs don't move through a Grimm's territory without a good reason. Living this close to the city means Eddie can go off with his friends on the weekends without running into something he shouldn't."
"Sorry, I--" Steve paused, unsure where to start in the dozens of questions he suddenly had. "What does wierder mean? And why does it have to be away from packs? Am I allowed to ask that?"
"Well, let's start simple," Wayne said, and his eyes drifted towards Dustin. "Would you want your little one around a strange Blutbad alone?"
Steve hesitated, unsure if this was a trick or not. "I... You and Eddie are the only Blutbader I've ever met," he said, every word carefully measured,"so I'm not... I don't want to say for sure, but from what I've read? Not... exactly."
"And it's the same with me." Wayne shrugged, as if it was a simple fact of life there he was nothing he could do about. "Murderers aren't great with children, even if they are their own."
"So you left the pack?" Steve confirmed.
"We more than left. We went wieder," Wayne said. Steve frowned when he heard the unfamiliar German.
When he turned to Robin, she was looking at Wayne as if he had just started babbling like an infant. "I'm guessing that doesn't mean what I think it means," Robin said, as if she was as afraid of upsetting Wayne as Steve was.
"Nah, wieder is older than that," Wayne said.
"Older than German?" Robin asked, her voice rising into 'I'm about to freak out' levels of pitch. Her eyes flew to Steve, widening. He shrugged; He didn't know why she thought that he, of all people, would have answers, but he didn't even have context for what they were talking about. God, he really needed to learn German, but the idea of learning a second language when the kids already confused him in English was exhausting.
"Since the creation of monsters, there's been those of us who didn't want to be monsters," Wayne said, as if that explained anything at all. Maybe for Robin, it did, because she began to nod thoughtfully. "For Blutbader, though, leaving is... hard. We're real big on the pack, and stepping away from that goes against everything we are. Can't stay, though, without getting pulled back into the hunt. And even now, every second I'm alive, I can feel myself trying to go back to them."
"How do you do it?" Dustin asked, voice quiet.
"Don't listen," Wayne said, as if it was the easiest thing in the world. Steve had to assume that it was a very practiced nonchalance, because he couldn't imagine talking about his own compulsions this way. "There's a lot of things I don't do anymore, because it makes the wolf louder than the man. I don't eat meat, I don't wear red, I don't suffer assholes and, most importantly, I don't keep company with other Blutbader anymore."
And that almost made sense, except that Steve was certain he would have noticed Eddie doing literally any of that. One incident especially came to mind, and Steve was quick to say, "I... have definitely seen Eddie eat meat before. In fact, I'm almost positive I once saw him eat an entire chicken in one sitting."
"I've never hunted before!" Eddie protested, as if he and Wayne had this argument every day. "Eating a chicken isn't going to make me start craving human."
"It's like an alcoholic having a drink versus someone who's never had a drop a day in their life," Wayne explained, and Steve was grateful for an explanation he had literally any chance of understanding. "Sure, the second guy could become an alcholic, but he can also just have a beer on a Friday night. First guy can't go back."
"So Eddie could--" Steve didn't want to think about it, about Eddie acting like the Blutbad in Otis' journal.
"He could," Wayne confirmed gravely.
"I won't!" Eddie said, with the air of a kid who had been promising his father the same thing for his entire life.
"You won't, but you could," Wayne said, reasonable in a way that came with practice.
"Oh, my God, Wayne," Eddie hissed, starting to look strained around the eyes. "For the last time, I am not going into a killing frenzy in the mosh pit."
"Let's hope not," Wayne said, as if that was an actual possibility, and oh my god, Steve didn't need to think about that. Didn't need to think of Eddie in a club at all, especially not in a pit. He'd never seen one, but he'd read about them, violence in a sea of anonymous bodies, an orgy for those who liked to let loose by collecting bruises-- The kind of fun that made Steve's stomach twist in ways he didn't want to examine too closely. The kind of thing he'd never let himself do.
He just really should not think about it.
"So why'd you do it?" Dustin asked. His voice was a welcome and necessary distraction to the spiral of Steve's thoughts; Wherever that path led, he'd never let himself go down it sitting next to the kid.
"What?" Wayne asked, looking a little surprised.
"If it's so hard," Dustin clarified. "If you have to live the rest of your life struggling, when why leave?"
Wayne paused, as if he wasn't sure how to explain it. And while Steve was sure the man had thought the same question to himself, maybe the answers he came up with weren't ones he wanted to tell a 13 year old in his living room. Or maybe, he just wasn't sure that Dustin would understand them. (Steve was sure Dustin would, though. Dustin had seen more than he should. Steve wished Dustin understood less.)
Eventually, Wayne said,"When Eddie was born, my brother Al changed. For the better, I mean. He'd always been an asshole, and I don't think having a kid was ever going to change that, but it was like he had woken up one day and his perspective had changed. Suddenly the only thing my brother wanted was to keep his baby safe, even if it meant giving up everything he had ever known. And I... I had never been good at telling Al no."
All embarassment was gone from Eddie's face, leaving behind instead an uncomfortable sadness. Steve was all too familiar with that pinched frown. To him, it was always from a grief that he didn't know how to hold, a sorrow that fit just a little too big within the spaces of his chest to have a proper place in his life. It required more than his two hands to hold it, and Steve wished he could be that second pair of hands for Eddie. He wished he knew how to hold someone else's pain like that; He wished he'd ever had someone to teach him.
"We stayed on the move for a few years," Wayne continued. "Came up the East Coast and then headed West when-- Well, stumbling onto Hawkins was almost an accident. I didn't think we'd get to stay until your parents found me and offered the deal."
It was easy to imagine what the deal might be. Steve knew his parents, knew the kind of deals they liked to make in a board room, and he didn't imagine they saw their town as any different. Still, he wanted to know the details, the particulars. He needed to know exactly how big the knife his parents were holding over Hawkins was.
"Wait a minute," Dustin said, before Steve could ask further. "If Eddie is wieder and he's never hunted before, then my mom has to let me join Hellfire this year! This is perfect!"
Steve blinked, stunned by the sudden change in subject, then said, "Dustin, there is absolutely no way you can tell your mom about any of this. She would kill me, and probably Wayne, too."
"Come on, Steve, if the other all join--"
"There are others?" Eddie said. He actually sounded excited by the idea of the Party joining his silly little club, damn him. Steve hated that it was almost adorable.
"Yeah! My friends Mike, Lucas, and Will all play together," Dustin said, babbling with excitement and innocence like Steve hadn't seen him in God knew how long. "And maybe Max and El, if her dad lets her come to school this year--"
"Dustin!" Steve snapped. The Munsons had pretty much been cleared of any and all suspicion at this point, but that didn't mean he trusted them with El. Even good people talked to the wrong suits, sometimes.
"I mean, we already have some prey species guys in the club," Eddie said, eager enough to ignore Steve's outburst. "Maybe I can have their moms talk to your mom, let her know what the vibe is like. We haven't had any problems before. Are your friends--"
"They're human. Well, except for El, she's--"
"Henderson, if you say one more fucking word," Steve swore.
"She's basically Steve's little sister," Dustin continued, as if Steve hadn't said a single word.
"Jesus fucking Christ."
They both continued around him, as if Steve wasn't having a very public breakdown at Eddie Munson knowing about El's existence. Neither of them even looked his way as he buried his head in his hands and surpressed the urge to scream. Dustin beamed up at Eddie, asking, "So what campaigns did you guys play last year?"
"Well, we just finished the latest Dragonlance campaign, and let me tell you, those aerial battles--"
"These children are ridiculous," Robin said, close enough that it broke over the excited racket of Dustin and Eddie's nerdery. She wasn't wrong; Steve had long since accepted that the kids would always bring their board game up in the face of extreme danger, but he hadn't expected that Eddie would indulge that particular absurdity. Steve was beginning to think that maybe he just had bad taste.
Steve raised his head to look at Wayne apologetically, but he found the man was instead making the same expression back at him. "He'll talk about this for hours, if we let him."
"Dustin, too," Steve said with a tired nod, and it was in that moment of kinship that Steve had to acknowledge this entire thing was a waste. Eddie and Wayne obviously hadn't done this, they had already known that before Dustin let his emotions get the best of him, but more and more it was becoming obvious that they didn't know anything. They were just normal people who had to work a little harder to get to 'normal', just like Steve and El and Dustin and every other Wesen living on the fringe of what it meant to be human. Whatever clues existed in greater Wesen society were once again entirely out of Steve's reach, and they were no closer than they had been this afternoon.
Steve let his shoulders slump in resignation. "Maybe we should just let them talk," Steve said. "I don't know what to do now, honestly."
"It's a damn shame your parents aren't here for all this, kid," Wayne said, eyes sad. Steve hated being pitied, usually, but just for once he let himself revel in it. This was much bigger than he could handle, and it felt a little soothing to have it acknowledged for once. "They'll get to the bottom of it,eventually. You just gotta wait it out."
"You have a lot of faith in them," Steve said, curious. He couldn't imagine what they had done to earn it, when he had so little faith in them himself.
"I mean, not everyone is under their protection, but whatever's out there would have to be awfully stupid to keep messing around where a Grimm can see it," Wayne said, and that, at least, made sense. "Look, son, I know you're under a lot of pressure right now, but this'll all be over once your parents are home."
It was a sentiment that Steve had heard many times, over the course of his childhood. When he was younger, it felt like he wasn't even allowed to ask questions without someone telling him to just wait for his parents to come home. He tried to tell them that he was sick of waiting, that he was never sure when they were coming back, but that only made everyone upset. So he would call, and someone's secretary would write a note, and Steve would wait. As he got older, Steve stopped calling. Eventually, people let him ask questions-- It was okay when a sixteen year old asked how to pay a power bill, in a way it hadn't been when he was eleven.
It helped that Steve was good at pretending. He learned to shave in Tommy's bathroom, pretending he'd been doing it for years. He copied signatures and permission slips. No one ever doubted when Steve said he'd called them, because who else spoke like Bradley Harrington? Who else but the son who survived mimicking his tone of voice? Steve pretended he was still waiting, and he didn't feel bad about moving on.
Wayne made him wish he was still waiting. Not because he actually wanted them to come home-- In fact, the idea of it made him feel the same way he had felt when Nancy had wanted to go to the cops. His stomach squirmed with unease, palms sweating, because his parents were the only people he had never been able to pretend in front of. And if they knew too much about Barb-- if they knew too much about Dustin and El and Robin --then they would know exactly who Steve was.
But Wayne made Steve want to be the kind of person who didn't feel like that. Or, at least, the kind of person who could ignore it long enough to call. He already knew he should, already knew all the lives he was putting at risk because he was too afraid to pick up a phone, but until that night Steve was okay with his own cowardice. Wayne made him feel guilt for pretending, for the first time in his life.
Steve wasn't sure if he liked that.
"Of course," Steve said, still pretending, with a pit in his stomach. "Of course you're right. I'm sure they'll be home as soon as they're able. But is there, uh, anything else you can think of? Just to keep the fort held down until my parents come home."
"Nothin' off the top of my head, son," Wayne said. "But I'll tell you what: I'll keep my eyes open and my ears peeled, and I'll let you know if anything comes up."
"Thank you, sir." Steve stood, yanking Dustin out of his conversation. The kid scrambled to follow his lead, still Steve's shadow when he had found a cooler friend, and he felt Robin match his every movement just a moment behind. Steve hesitated for a moment, unsure if it was necessary to leave his number or address with a man who so obviously knew his father. Or even if he would be home when Wayne needed him. He was shit at this leadership stuff. "If-- if there's an emergency, and you can't get in touch with me, you can always call Chief Hopper down at the police station. He knows where to find me in a pinch."
"Wait wait wait." Eddie sounded harried, and he looked at Steve with wide eyes. "Does Chief Hopper know about this shit?"
"I mean... he knows kids are missing," Steve said, because... well, he had to assume that someone had told the Chief of Police that kids were going missing more often than quarters, "but I haven't told him about the Wesen connection, no."
"But he knows about Wesen?" Eddie asked, and Steve noted that he certainly wasn't afraid to make eye contact now. His eyes all but bored into Steve, big and scared and wholly prey. If he hadn't known better, there was no way Steve would have pegged this man for any kind of predator. Even human seemed a designation too cruel for those eyes. "He knows there are people in this town who aren't human? Does he-- does he know about me?"
"No, no, it's not like that," Steve said, because he remembered how scared he was to tell Hopper about being a Grimm, before he even had words for it. He couldn't imagine what it must be like for Eddie, with all this... expectation at his back. "Hopper knows that Wesen exist, but that's... recent. And I doubt he knows anything about either of you; I don't think he's even heard of a Blutbad before. Hop knows the basics, and I don't think he plans on learning much more than that."
Wayne hummed, considering. He seemed much calmer about the idea of a cop in Wesen business. Although, considering all the weed Steve and his friends had bought from Eddie in school, Wayne probably spent less time in general thinking about cops. "Seems like he'd be a good ally, Chief of Police. You don't want to bring him in on the missing kids?"
Oh, and wasn't that a doozy? Because Wayne was right, from a certain point of view. It would be so much easier to let Hopper take over. But there were so many reasons he couldn't, and so many of them he couldn't tell Wayne. There was just... too much. Too much about Hopper, too much about Steve, and while he fully believed Wayne was a good person... Well, there were a lot of good people Steve didn't trust.
"Look, Hop is a good man," Steve said, slowly. "But he's a cop first, and that comes with rules and laws and a bunch of other stuff that I don't really understand. Now, Hop isn't always... the best at following those rules, but that's not a position I want to put him in. If there's every anything in this that we can prove to a court of law, then I would love to call the police and step out of the way. But that's just... not the life we're living."
Besides, pulling Hop in on any Wesen business would be a terrible idea. Once he had one foot in, he was bound to take a mile, and the more he got involved, the bigger chance he had getting tied up in something that Steve's parents would notice. And them noticing Hopper was just a step away from them noticing El, and that was... Steve couldn't have that.
Wayne was right, though. Steve needed someone to work the human side of things if he wanted any chance of finding this guy. Hopper couldn't get involved, and Steve didn't trust Dr. Owens or the numbers he'd left behind last fall, but... Well, Steve knew a guy. The local paper might not have as many resources as the police department, but people also didn't close the doors on a pretty smile like they did a badge.
Luckily, Wayne didn't ask him to elaborate. He just sat for a moment, as if he was really considering what Steve had said-- And wasn't that a trip? --and eventually, he nodded and sighed. "... Jim Hopper is a good man," Wayne said, in the voice of a man who was making a choice he hoped he wouldn't regret. "I don't mind calling him first if there's anything I don't think I can handle without someone getting hurt."
That was certainly a choice of words.
"I- I'll be right behind him, if you need me," Steve said, trying not to let his voice shake under the sudden image of mild-mannered Wayne Munson wrecking someone's shit.
"I don't doubt that, son," Wayne said with a smile.
Steve, unaccustomed to approval this easily, fidgeted under the light of Wayne's grin. "... Right. Right, well, I-- I guess we better get out of your way. It's past Robin's curfew."
"Oh." Robin practically inflated with shock like a cartoon character, rising up on her tiptoes as she looked at her watch. "Oh, shit. Yeah. Thanks for all the help, Mr. Munson. Bye Eddie!"
"Yeah, bye Eddie!" Dustin chimed in. "Make sure you talk to your friends about my mom! Her name is Claudia Henderson, we live on--"
Steve cut him off with a gentle shove towards the door. They didn't have time. Eddie would figure it out, or he wouldn't. Steve needed to get out of here before a Munson decided to make him rethink another aspect of his life. "Dustin, get in the car. Thank you for everything, Mr. Munson." He at least tried to make that sound genuine.
"No problem, kid," was Wayne's gentle response. "Good luck."
They left the trailer in a flurry of noise, Dustin and Robin both bursting into their frenzied monologues as soon as the door closed behind them. Stumbling down the steps, Steve almost tripped over both of them as they stuck close to his sides, and he rolled his eyes when Robin came tripping over his heels.
She grabbed his sweater to steady herself, still complaing over Dustin's excited ramblings. "I can't believe we stayed out this late, Steve. Do you remember how early we have to get up to open, now? In the summer! This is ridiculous, I'm too young for this kind of--"
Their voices made such a confusing cacophany that Steve almost didn't hear the creak of a screen door behind them, so by the time he turned to check, Eddie was already halfway down the steps.
"Harrington! Hey, Harrington, wait up!" Eddie called, as if Steve hadn't already stopped in his tracks at the sight of him. Backlit by the faded porch light, Eddie looked otherworldly, a kind of magic that Steve hadn't believed in since his parents decided he was old enough to stop believing in God. Steve felt his mouth going dry already, just looking at golden swirls of errant curls around his head.
"Oh, uh... Can you guys wait for me in the car? It'll just be a few minutes."
Dustin would have argued if it weren't so late-- The kid liked to pretend that he was just as ready to pull an all-nighter hunting monsters as he had been two years ago, but Steve recognized the deep-seated teenage urge to sleep for twelve hours a day, and it was hitting Dustin hard. He only looked upset for two seconds before turning away, a yawn already curling his mouth. He didn't even bother to speak, waving at Eddie over his shoulder as he continued trudging to the car.
Robin shrugged and followed. "Don't make me late for curfew, Harrington, or I'll make you meet my dad."
Steve shuddered. He hated meeting dads, especially ones whose daughter he wasn't dating-- Mostly because they were always so sure he was. "No chance of that, Buckley."
He heard Eddie mumble under his breath, a little, "gross," that had Steve frowning off into the swiftly darkening weeds.
It was such a bad idea for him to talk to Eddie alone; Steve was more than aware that his obsessions got worse the more time he dwelt on them. He knew he would be replaying whatever Eddie said to him over and over again as he tried to sleep, reading into every word deeply enough to give a little rationale to the delusion. It wasn't something Steve could afford to do, especially not when he also had to deal with Eddie's obvious distaste for him, but the alternative seemed even worse.
Whatever Eddie wanted to talk about, it was obviously i mportant-- And private enough that he hadn't wanted to talk about it in front of Wayne. Dustin would be too nosy, trying to take over the conversation, and Steve honestly didn't have the brainpower to corral him right now. Plus, Steve doubted that Eddie wanted his crush to hear whatever he was about to say. More than that, Steve needed to not actively be resenting Robin over some stupid boy she probably didn't even like.
God, he hated even thinking that.
"What's up, Munson?" Steve said. If he talked to Eddie like one of his old teammates, he could pull off sounding normal. Maybe. Probably.
Eddie hesitated for a moment, his eyebrows knitting together as if he was gearing up for something big. "If you're going to be out there looking for those kids, then I want to be there with you. Join you, I mean. On your mission."
"Um, no. Absolutely not." Steve didn't even have to think about it.
"Listen, I know we aren't exactly friends, but--"
"What? No, that's not--" Steve rubbed at his nose, trying to find the right words. He had always been awful at explaining himself. For a long time, it had been hard for him to understand that not everyone thought in the same pathways as him. Even now, when he finally understood the weird looks that people gave him when he spoke, he never seemed to pick the right words to make people understand. That was why Nancy had always been mad at him-- He could never make her understand what he was actually trying to say. It seemed important, now, to make sure Eddie didn't walk away from this with the same irritation.
"Look, Eddie," Steve said, starting over. "I need to keep this hunt lowkey, alright? As little people as involved as possible, for my own sanity if not for your own safety. I already have to look after Robin and Dustin because they refuse to let this go at all, and I really don't think that I can manage looking after a third Wesen kid while hunting for someone who is actively trying to capture Wesen children. If you go out there with me, there's no guarantee you're coming back, and I'm not repaying Wayne for his kindness by getting his nephew killed."
All of Steve's efforts had apparently failed, because the apprehension on Eddie's face had already melted into a pissy little frown. "I'm older than you, Harrington, and I can take care of myself," Eddie said, and Steve had to hold himself back from laughing. As if age had ever had anything to do with it. As if Steve hadn't seen the tiniest twelve year old girl throw men like Eddie to their deaths.
Luckily, Steve didn't have to reach that deeply to push back. He had four years of memories that were more than enough to keep Eddie Munson far away from any battle field. "Oh yeah? The bloodless, wieder Blutbad is going to fight the monster off himself?" Steve asked. "Eddie, I had to physically drag Tommy Hagan away from kicking your ass multiple times, and that kid was made of pipe cleaners and marshmallow fluff. I don't think you can handle a real fight. ... No offense." Even he didn't believe his own weak appeal at civility.
"Oh, what, and you can? You got your ass beat by Jonathan Byers, man. We all heard the rumors," Eddie hissed, and Steve could have recognized the wounded masculinity a mile away.
He rolled his eyes, a hand on his hip. "I do just fine when my opponent isn't a teenage boy with a mother waiting for him to come home, turns out," Steve said, thinking about the way bone collapsed so easily under the weight of his bat. Yeah, he did okay.
Eddie looked away, flushing. It wasn't the first time that night, and it probably wouldn't be the last. Steve couldn't blame him; While Eddie had obviously learned a lot about self control from his uncle, whatever he saw in Steve's woged eyes must have been enough to seriously throw him off. Even El and Robin, who'd had the most violent reactions, had mostly gotten over it. Eddie, though, looked at Steve like he might start foaming at the mouth and biting at any moment.
Which was a little ironic, considering, but Steve wasn't about to point that out.
Making Eddie uncomfortable had never been on Steve's to-do list, so he decided to simply avoid eye contact from here on out. Honestly, it was a little relieving, because Steve hated eye contact with strangers he wasn't trying to flirt something out of. But it was a little upsetting that Eddie didn't want to look at him. And now he didn't have an excuse to look at Eddie's eyes.
Whatever, this would probably be good for him. They could just stop making eye contact, and Steve could finally put this stupid crush to bed.
Fuck, no, Harrington. Don't call it a crush.
Still looking away, Eddie deflated, and Steve noticed he was just a hair shorter than Steve himself. "Alright, fine," Eddie said, "I'm not going to be any help in a fight. But I know way more about Wesen society than either of those kids you've got with you--"
"Oh, come on," Steve said, a little irritated by Eddie playing dumb, "you literally know Robin--"
"And you need the help, Harrington. Don't pretend you don't." In that, at least, Eddie's voice was firm. Confident. Too bad for him that Steve had always been better at faking it.
"No, I don't need another tag-along nerd," Steve said, pulling for a little of that tried and true Hagan disdain. He just needed Eddie to give this up, go back inside, and pretend none of this ever ended up on his doorstep. "I have books and shit for that, okay? My parents didn't leave me totally unarmed; We'll be fine--"
"If you didn't need the help, then why did you show up here asking questions then, huh?" Eddie asked, and, well-- It was a good question. One that Steve knew he wouldn't exactly be able to explain his way out of, considering he was lost in the woods on most of this.
Steve decided to stop arguing he didn't need help, and just start arguing that he didn't need help from Eddie. Something in him smarted at actively trying to hurt the man's feelings, but it would be better for them both, in the long run. "Because the 14 year old would have shown up alone, if I hadn't, and while I know you couldn't fight your way out of a wet paper bag, I wasn't so sure about Wayne," Steve said.
"Look, Harrington, just-- I have actual connections in Wesen society. Not one or two friends, but a whole network of people in Indiana who know more about themselves than any Grimm that ever lived," Eddie said, and Steve had to wonder how many families on the list Eddie could find a friend of a friend to talk to. How deep these connections really went. Would a Jagerbar family be more willing to talk to a Blutbad who showed up on their doorstep? "If you're going to be actually investigating this, you're going to need someone who can get you answers from people like that. Not the books your parents left you."
"Why? Why can't you just stay safe?" And Steve was talking to Eddie, sure, but meant everyone. No one in Hawkins was willing to get themselves to a safe place and just stay there. They all had to be heroes, and it was driving Steve insane trying to keep them all alive. Why did Eddie have to be stricken with the same affliction? Why did it have to be every fucking time?
"I wouldn't be able to live with myself if something happened," Eddie said, an answer that Steve had already known. It was the same reason he had even agreed to come here, the same reason he had stepped between monsters and the people he cared about every time. It was the same reason that Nancy had walked away from him to find answers, and the same reason Dustin put his stupid neck on the line every single day-- Because they had to. They didn't have any other choice. Steve just wished it could be someone else, for once.
"I know I wasn't always the best at it," Eddie continued, his big, sad eyes shining in the moonlight, "but I have done everything I can to try and clean up the messes you couldn't. If there was a bully stupid enough to piss you off, I made sure they came after me, not after the other guys. Because... Because I couldn't handle it happening to someone who couldn't take it, and I knew I could. And I can take whatever this monster's got to throw at me. But those kids...."
If there was one thing Steve could not stand, it was to see himself in someone else. He could barely stand to look at Dustin, sometimes, especially when he was angry and lecturing his friends. More and more the kid was picking up Steve's sarcasm. But in Eddie it was worse, because it was the only part of himself that Steve even liked. It pissed him off, on Eddie, made him want to take the guy by the shoulders and shake some self-preservation into him. But Steve's hands were tied. He knew it would make him the worst kind of asshole if he brushed Eddie off, and the worst of it was he couldn't even pretend that he wasn't here for the exact same reasons. There was no talking Eddie out of this, and if he was anything like Steve, he'd probably just show up if Steve told him no.
"Fine. Fine! I'll keep you in the loop," Steve said, as angry about capitulating as he had been with Dustin earlier. He knew he needed to get better at saying no, but he would rather people do stupid shit with him around to pull them out of it, and he was beginning to suspect that everyone knew it. He rubbed a hand over his face, trying to plan a way to keep Eddie safe and far enough away from Steve that he wouldn't be too distracting. Or, worse, actually helpful. The last thing Steve needed was another competent monster hunter to embarass himself in front of. "I-- Ugh. I need to make some calls, get some info on the human side of things so we can start trying to figure out how this guy is finding these kids. Me and Robin have Monday off, so we can meet up that afternoon and go over what I found. Fair warning, the answer might be 'absolutely nothing'."
Eddie brightened, a grin spreading across his face so quickly that Steve was beginning to suspect he had been played. "Sounds good. Who are you calling, though? Is Hop feeding you information? Is that why we knows?"
"Uh, no." Steve really did not want to tell Eddie that his big, important source was his ex-girlfriend. For a multitude of reasons, most of which Steve didn't want to think about for too long. "I actually-- Well. I know some guys in the government." Because true lies were the best kind of all.
"Wait, what?"
And, yeah, there was no way Steve was going to give more detail after all the hints Dustin had dropped in the trailer. Look, I'll see you Monday, Eddie, but I really have to go before Robin kills me. Bye," he said, turning on his heel quickly before Eddie could get a word in.
He heard a confused goodbye mumbled behind him, but Steve kept his head down as he marched to the car. Thoughts swam in Steve's brain at a pace that had his pulse pounding in his temples. Everything, from what little Wayne had told them, to Eddie's crush on Robin, to the reemergence of Steve's worst habits, to Dustin's new obsession with getting into Eddie's club, was a jumbled mess in the front of his mind. And he knew it was stupid and selfish, the way everything suddenly seemed equally important, but Steve had never been very good at compartmentalizing. He dealt with what was in front of him; Always had.
The problem with that was everything had turned up on his plate at once, and Steve only had so many hands. And mouths. And brains.
It didn't help that he could already hear Robin and Dustin's voices before he even made it to the Forest Hills sign, much less to the Bimmer. He had no idea what they were arguing about, their voices muffled just enough that Steve couldn't make out any distinct words, but they were obviously arguing about something-- No matter how good Steve's hearing had gotten, it hadn't turned him into Superman yet. There was no overhearing quiet conversations in buildings down the street. They were yelling, and loudly.
Steve snatched open the driver's side door, already glaring and bitching before he even got a foot in the vehicle. "Literally what is wrong with the two of you?"
Dustin had put up with Steve's scoldings for too long to take them seriously, and he tried to continue the arguement, not even looking Steve's way. "Would it kill you to admit that I'm right for once--"
Robin, however, had centered all her attention on Steve the moment the door opened. She watched him with narrowed eyes, now, ignoring Dustin's shrill voice behind her. There was a moment of silence as Steve settled into his seat, but the moment he shut the door, Robin asked, "What happened?"
Resisting the urge to bash his head against the steering wheel for the next half hour or so, Steve stared down at his hands for a moment. He wasn't even sure what she was asking him, as he doubted that Robin would care that Steve and Eddie had just stood outside and had a little bitch fit about who got to be the bigger hero. He thought she'd probably just roll her eyes and call them both stupid boys, honestly. Or maybe not. Maybe Robin did like Eddie back. Maybe Steve was already in the way again, and it would be better just to let them handle it, let Eddie take the spot that Robin and Dustin had dragged Steve into anyway--
"Nothing," Steve said, shaking the threads of anxiety from his head and starting the engine. "Eddie just wanted to ask if he could come the next time we do research. I told him it was cool."
"Oh, good," Robin said. She didn't look too excited about the news, which was a great sign for him vis a vis getting his heart broken mid-monster hunt again. "It'll be nice to have an extra pair of eyes looking for clues. We need all the help we can get."
"Yeah," Steve said. The car idled underneath them as Steve fiddled with the air conditioner. He knew he should start driving now if they wanted Robin to make it home on time, but his brain was still spinning. He just needed to breathe for a second. Just a fucking second. "I'm not used to being on the mystery side of things. I usually just show up and swing at whatever seems like the thing most likely to kill someone."
"And he didn't know what a Grimm was," Robin muttered under her breath.
"Hey, you have me!" Dustin protested. "I know I'm not as good as Nancy, and I don't have any weird old guys with government documents in his basement or anything, but I figure stuff out all the time!"
"I know, and I'm gonna call Nance--" Steve paused, then twisted around in his seat to face Dustin in the back. "... Do you think we should be looping Murray in on this Wesen thing?"
"Who's Murray?" Robin asked.
"Are you crazy, Steve?" Dustin's voice rose an entire octave. "That racist asshole? Fuck no. He'd probably try to put El in a cage or something. And then we'd have to kill him, and Nancy would be, like, so mad at us. "
That was fair. Steve had never liked Murray, anyway. Despite the fact that he was apparently 'instrumental' to getting justice for Barb, Murray hadn't really seemed to care either way. While Nancy had been in it for the truth, and helping innocent victims, Murray had been mostly focused on being right. In the maybe thirty minutes he'd spoken to the man last Christmas, Murray had spent the entire time forcing uncomfortable eye contact and telling Steve all about his incredibly troubling theories. The more upsetting they were, the more excited he seemed about the whole thing. Steve really didn't want to see how excited he got about more missing kids.
Besides, while Steve trusted that Murray knew better than to cross Hopper by coming for El, Steve absolutely did not believe for a second that Murray wouldn't out every single Wesen involved if it could be used as 'proof'. He was addicted to being right. God, Steve really hoped he could get that impulse out of Dustin before it got too late.
"You're probably right," Steve said, and turned back around, putting the car into reverse.
"Who the fuck is Murray!?"
They did not make it home in time for Robin's curfew.
Luckily, Robin's mother had been delighted to meet him, and though Robin complained under her breath the entire time about her mom getting the wrong idea, Steve had been happy to play along if it meant Robin didn't get grounded. Mrs. Buckley had all but begged Steve to stay and have dessert, and Steve was oddly touched-- The woman was obviously terrified of a Grimm in her kitchen, never looking him in the eyes for longer than a moment or two, but her offer sounded genuine and warm. He would have said yes, if Dustin hadn't been in the car. It would have been nice to know another Wesen family.
It was only after he'd dropped Dustin off that Steve remembered why he really shouldn't accept food from the Buckleys.
The next day before work, Steve called Nancy Wheeler for the first time in months. They'd talked since they'd broken up; Of course they had. With Dustin and Mike as close as they were, it was practically impossible for them not to run into each other now and again, and it wasn't like they hated each other, now. Phone calls were more intimate than a casual conversation, though. It spoke of more intent, to just call someone up and chat for hours, and while Steve was all for trying to be friends, eventually, he hadn't wanted Nancy to fill pressured by him calling her out of nowhere-- He hadn't wanted to put Jonathan in that position, either, though he figured his own feelings had never crossed Jonathan's mind.
He owed it to the guy, he figured, for being such a dick.
He figured neither of them would mind in an emergency, though-- They were all nearly adults now, and experienced monster hunters. They could have this conversation without bringing their history into it. Even as he justified it to himself, Steve hoped that it wasn't Ted or Karen who would answer the phone. Ted hated him and Karen had always liked him a little too much; The last thing Steve needed was another set of parents assuming that Steve was chasing after their daughter.
He could just see Mrs. Buckley and Karen Wheeler glaring at each other during a PTA meeting, fighting over a boy that both their daughters felt nothing but disgust for. It would be funny for about two seconds, until it absolutely tanked Steve's barely recovered reputation.
In Steve's ear, the ringing stopped, and Steve straightened from his slump over his kitchen counter just enough to brace himself.
"Wheeler Residence, Nancy speaking."
Steve sighed in relief. "Uh, hey, Nance. It's me. ... Steve," he said awkwardly. He hated talking to people on the phone. Without facial cues, he was basically lost in conversations; Most girls were easy because they only wanted to flirt, but for everything else, Steve could barely understand what people were trying to say, much less what they were thinking. He decided to barge through the stilted small talk and get right to the point. It wasn't like Nancy's opinion of him could get any lower. "Look, do you have time to help me with a problem?"
There was silence on the other side of the phone, leaving Steve squirming for a few moments before Nancy said, "Is this about the shirt you lost? The red one?" There was something tense in Nancy's voice, something that Steve couldn't place, but had to assume was anger or suspicion or both.
"What?" Steve said, before he could even think about it. For a moment, Steve had thought she was actually asking about a shirt, and it tripped him up. It was only after he registered the tension in her voice that he realized this was probably some kind of code or implication he just didn't understand. He had no idea what a red shirt meant, or why Steve would have been the one to lose it, but it didn't take a genius to figure out it probably had something to do with the Upside Down. "Oh! No, no, but it is about a mutual friend of ours. The one we met at Chief Hopper's?"
There was another pause, and when Nancy's voice returned, it was unsure. "But it's... not about the red shirt?"
"No, it's--" Steve sighed. He hated talking in code, hated that he couldn't just say what he meant and ask Nancy to stop talking to him like she was afraid he might actually explode from stupidity. It was so stupid; She was the one who had wanted to go to the cops to begin with, and now she and everyone else was so afraid to even breathe the wrong way. And Steve got it; He really did. Keeping El safe was the first priority, but what was the point of never talking about anything else? They all knew about the Upside Down and the labs. The government knew they knew. And it wasn't like the American government didn't know that Wesen existed; They'd had little Wesen girls in labs to do experiments on. They should have fucking guessed one of them would figure it out, eventually. They should have been the ones to stop the kids from going missing, the ones to stop monsters so his parents didn't have to. If they wanted to get involved now, good for them. Steve would happily hand it over. For now, though, he was sick of pretending like he cared. If they were even listening. "Look, Nancy, do you honestly think you've been bugged?"
"Steve!" Nancy hissed, sharp and angry. Months ago, when they had been together, it would have immediately made him step back and apologize. Now, though, it just made the foreign strength that Steve had begun to think of as his rage prickle across the back of his neck.
"I'm serious, Nance. This is serious," he repeated, because she didn't often believe he knew the importance of things. Steve didn't take it personally; She did that to most people. He just didn't have the patience for the conversation it would take to convince her. "There's no time to be playing spy games or whatever."
"The government is serious, Steve," Nancy said, as if Steve hadn't been there. "I don't know why--"
"The government can go fuck itself, starting with Reagan. And if anyone is listening, they can tell him I said that, too. Whatever, they probably know about all this shit anyway-- And if they don't, oh fucking well," Steve said.
Nancy made a little noise of shock, one that reminded Steve of his mother. All suburban sensibilities. It was a practiced sound, one that Nancy had obviously donned out of some kind of camoflague or simply habit, but it made Steve roll his eyes all the same.
"Steve, what has--" she began, but Steve wasn't interested in playing their assigned roles right now.
"El wasn't the only one of her kind," he interrupted. Immediately, Nancy's voice failed. Good, he thought. He could practically feel her investigative instincts firing up through the phone line. Hopefully now they could dispense with the masquerade of normalcy.
"We knew that, already," she said, eventually. "Her siblings--"
"No, I mean... El would have had powers even if she'd never been taken to the lab," Steve huffed. He wasn't explaining this very well. It would be easier, he thought, if he could just tell her about himself. That would be proof enough for anyone, especially with his Woge backing it up. However, he wasn't sure if he wanted Nancy to know-- It was hard enough to admit his own lack of humanity to people who understood, like Robin or Eddie. It was entirely another to admit to a human. Hopper had been a necessary evil, because he needed someone to put him down if something went wrong, but what good would telling Nancy do? It would only confirm what she already knew; Steve had never been a real person in the first place.
"There's whole races of them, Nancy," he continued, trying to keep it all as vague as possible. "They're called Wesen, and they-- They're not as powerful as El, usually, but they're not human. They're more than that. And that's why the lab wanted El so badly. That's why the lab wanted all those kids so badly. Because there's not that many of them, but there's-- There's more than we thought, Nancy. So much more."
Nancy's voice was faint. "... What?"
"I know it doesn't make sense," Steve admitted. He had already known it was going to be hard to sell Nancy on a fairy tale without proof, but without outing himself or Dustin, his hands were tied. "I know that, Nance, but I've met them. Kids and adults both, I've met them and I've seen them 'change' like she does. Ask Hopper, if you don't believe me. It's real. It's all real. And-- and they're in trouble."
"Steve, how do you know this?" Nancy asked, and this time Steve had no problem identifying the emotion in her words. It was doubt, plain and simple, and Steve tried not to think of all the hurtful reasons it was there.
"They--" Steve paused. He really should have come up with a lie before this, but he had honestly thought having Hopper on his side would have been enough to sway her. Maybe he should have known better. "They came to me because they saw me hanging around with El. She's been trying to find more out about her parents, so..."
"Really? That's it? They just saw you hanging out with El and thought, oh, he looks like the person to talk to about this?" If Steve wasn't mistaken, there was a thread of laughter in Nancy's voice. As if it was so laughable that anyone would choose Steve to be their hero. And that was fair, maybe, because Steve hadn't been chosen by anything other than genetics, but it didn't change that he was the only one that could fix things. And Steve needed her with him on that, whether she believed in him or not.
"Look, it doesn't matter why they chose me," Steve said, already sick of trying to justify himself. "The point is, kids are going missing. Tons of them. Like, dozens per year. Not just little kids, either, but people your age. And I think I might be able to stop the guy doing this, but I need your help."
"And you're sure it's not..." Nancy's voice trailed off, unwilling to say it out loud. Steve wasn't sure if she was worried about the bugs again, or if she thought that saying it out loud would bring it back into their lives. Either way, the unsaid name hung between them like a physical wall until Steve swallowed his guilt down. This was different, and it was something he could still stop. They didn't have the time.
"Yes, Nance. This is just... plain human evil," Steve said. "Well, not human. But you get what I mean."
"I still don't understand how you got caught up in this," Nancy said.
"It doesn't matter at this point, Nance. I don't--" Steve huffed, rolling his eyes. "Look, if this is going to be a problem, I can go to someone else."
"No!" Nancy's protest was quick, the idea of being taken completely off the case apparently much more terrifying than a few unanswered questions. "No, I want to help. What do you need?"
"So, I've got the Wesen-- that's what they're called, Wesen, it means--"
"People in German, yes," Nancy, as if that was common knowledge. Steve had no idea when everyone in Hawkins learned German, or why he had been missing from class that day, but whatever. That made this whole thing easier.
"... Yes, so, I've got that angle covered. I've got some-- some connections in the community, I guess," Steve said. He felt much less protective over Eddie and Robin's status than he did Dustin's, especially considering that they weren't so involved in Nancy's life already. Still, he didn't like the idea of her knowing. Sure, she wasn't as involved in their lives, but they were all going to the same school, and from the sound of it, they were already having a rough enough time there. He hoped she didn't dig. "But I'm having a little trouble getting information on the human side of things. You know, where this guy might be finding the kids, if they hang out in any of the same places, you know? So I was wondering if you had any sources at the paper that might--"
"I don't work at the paper anymore, Steve," Nancy said, voice clear as Steve's ramblings tumbled to a hault around it.
"What?"
"I said I don't--"
"No, I heard you, just..." Steve stopped, taking in a breath. She had been so excited for that internship. It had been all she talked about, in the few times they had spoken recently. She and Jonathan both had been so thrilled to start the first steps of a life they could build together. Steve had been ruthlessly jealous, but hearing the flat, monotone cadence of her voice now only filled him with sudden alarm. "God, Nance, are you okay?"
"It's fine," Nancy said, and they had dated long enough for Steve to know that those words were almost always a lie. It might have been a little hypocritical for him to think, but Steve had long since accepted that a Wheeler would always complain when they were happy and smile when they were miserable. Even little Holly whined about being uncomfortable when she fell asleep against Steve's shoulder.
"No, come on, you can talk to me. Did something happen?" Maybe it was the months of feeling like the entire world was on his shoulders, but Steve felt the unfamiliar urge to fix everything. He was aware enough of his own behavior to know that in the past he had ignored every problem in Nancy's life and hoped for the best, but that obviously hadn't worked. There had to be something he could do, to fix this for her and Jonathan. "If-- If something happened, I can help. I can call my mom, you know, my parents donate a lot to the paper, and if I call her--"
"Steve, I can take care of myself!" Steve thought, absurdly, of Eddie. How he so badly needed to be cared for, how Wayne wanted desperately to do it for him, and how Eddie chafed and squirmed under the gentle hand of his uncle's worry. The same protestations had fallen from his lips just the night before, but when Wayne had pushed, Eddie had seemed exasperated but... fond? Maybe he and Nancy would get there, one day, maybe she would let him be her friend--
"No, I know you can," Steve said, trying to sound as responsible as possible. "I just--"
"You're not my boyfriend anymore!"
The explosion of Nancy's anger, now so obvious, drew Steve up short. He had never forgotten that Nancy had dumped him. He thought of it every time he saw her, how badly she had hurt him. Was he acting like he had forgotten? He hadn't meant to. If anything, Steve had gone out of his way to give Nancy and Jonathan space, to make sure they both knew that he had accepted his loss. Steve couldn't tell how he had overstepped, but it was obvious he had. Nancy wasn't someone who would just bring it up out of nowhere. Steve had messed up, somewhere.
But all he had done was care about her. Was that it? Was that what he had done wrong? Steve hadn't thought so; He'd cared the same way about Carol and Nicole and his former female friends, and their boyfriends had never seemed threatened outside of some light teasing about the unstoppable charisma of Steve Harrington. So maybe it was just Nancy. Maybe it was just with her that he wasn't allowed to care. Or maybe it was a Steve problem. Maybe it was only him who wasn't allowed to be her friend.
"Okay?" Steve said. He rubbed at his nose as he coughed, trying to rid the quaver from his throat. "Okay, I, uh... I'm sorry, Nancy. I didn't mean to overstep. I'm... I'm sorry I bothered you, too. I'll find somebody else."
"No, Steve, I--" Nancy sighed, and Steve recognized the emotion behind that one all too well. He had fucked up again, somehow. She was sighing like his mother did when Steve didn't pick something up quickly enough, like teachers did when he asked stupid questions. Steve flinched away from the phone, even as Nancy said, "I can help without the paper. I want to help."
"Great! That's-- That's great," Steve said, hoping it was true. "Um, hold on, I have a list of names. Do you have a pen and paper?"
Slowly, Steve read off the list of names and towns, occassionally stopping to fill Nancy in on small details like parents' names or schools. Because the victims were kids, there was a depressingly small amount of information they had found. In fact, most of what they had was a list of everyone who had a drug addict as a parent, which was interesting, but he wasn't sure how to explain everything to Nancy without her freaking out. Besides, if they were connected through the Buckleys, there was no way Robin and Steve wouldn't find the connection eventually. He just needed Nancy to check out the small, human things. Things Steve had never been good at.
"Anything you can find would be... I mean, I've already checked, you know?" Steve said, nervously. "But I'm not half the researcher you are, and it would make me feel better to have you checking my work. There's no telling what I missed."
"Right. Well, I'll start working on this immediately. It's not like I've got anything else to do," Nancy said, bitterly.
Steve made a small noise of agreement that he hoped wasn't too offensive. Usually, he would have stayed on the phone for just a hair too long, taking advantage of the situation to find out how Nancy was doing, what she and Jon were up too. Sometimes, he asked about the kids, and Nancy would explain whatever game they had been playing in a way that actually made sense for Steve. He liked those conversations; They made him feel like he was finally making progress on the 'friends' thing. After Nancy's outburst, though, Steve had to wonder if Nancy had ever enjoyed them at all, or if she just assumed it was Steve's last, desperate attempt to win her back.
He tried to think of the politest way to hang up, so he could go to work and try to forget any of this ever happened. Robin would be a great distraction for his brain, her rambling going to a good cause for once, and maybe one of the kids would come in. Maybe he could pick up dinner on the way to Hopper's, maybe Max would be there, too, and Steve could spend some time talking to people who actually wanted him around. Maybe--
"Steve, can I..." Nancy hesitated. She sounded almost shy, in a way she hadn't around Steve since they first started dating. "Why didn't you go to Hopper with this?"
When Wayne had asked Steve that question, he had to bite his tongue somewhat. Steve had been raised in a family with a lot of secrets, although he had no idea how many at the time. And family secrets stayed inside the family at all costs. There were a lot of things Steve wouldn't say to someone on the outside, and even more he simply wouldn't. Things that Wayne wouldn't understand.
Nancy was different. Nancy had been here for all of it, every second, and she was deeper into the inner circle than Steve himself. More than that, Nancy was keenly aware just how badly adults had kept failing children in Hawkins. She would understand why Steve couldn't just hand it all over and pretend it wasn't happening. He almost wanted to point out that, at one point, she hadn't either, but-- Well. Although Steve still stung with betrayal, at the moment Nancy sounded more curious than accusatory. There was no point in picking a fight.
"I love Hop, you know that. Mostly, I just want to keep him completely out of this. I wouldn't be able to take it if this put him or El in harm's way. But also, I..." Steve sighed. "It's hard to agree with the way Hop does things sometimes. You know what I mean. You've seen the way he can get with El."
"He's been through a lot, Steve," Nancy said, softly.
"Believe me, I get that," Steve said, because Hopper had told him a little after a few too many beers. About Sarah and the way El had torn that hole in his chest right back open. Steve honestly understood; That didn't mean he had to like it. Especially not when, bizarrely, it was pointed in his direction. "And he's been trying to be better about it all. But I can't have him trying to Papa Bear me right now, and if we find those kids, I really can't predict what he's going to do. I need... I need someone I can trust to do things the right way, even if that person isn't me. But Hop's a complete mystery, and I can never tell if he's going to be a hardass or a loose canon. I can't afford that right now."
"But you trust me?" Nancy said,
"Of course I do. Nance, come on." Steve's voice dropped into softness, almost a whisper. He felt terrible, talking about how much he liked her after everything. Felt guilty and ashamed and sneaky and gross. But he couldn't have Nancy thinking that he didn't still think she was the best person he'd ever met. "You're the smartest person I've ever met, and you've never steered me wrong. Even when... Even when we've fought about stuff, it's just because you were doing what you thought was right. I trust you not to let your emotions put people in danger, which is more than I can say for... Well, Hopper, but me, too. Joyce. Most people, I think. You, though... You're good."
There was another long, uncomfortable silence between them. Steve kept his breathing as shallow as possible, trying not to make too much noise. Eventually, though, it had simply gone on too long for Steve to spend leaned against his counter and doing nothing-- He did still have a job. "Nance, I--"
"I hope you have a good day at work," Nancy blurted, and then Steve heard nothing but the buzzing of the dial tone.
"What the hell just..." Steve muttered, pulling the phone receiver away from his ear and staring at it as if it had more information on what the hell had just happened. The receiver didn't talk, just stayed inanimate in his hand, plastic and useless. "I would love to have even one day not be completely fucking weird."
Maybe it was nothing, he told himself as he put the phone back on the hook. Maybe she was just busy, or maybe she had realized that she didn't actually want to be talking to him. Maybe she had just gotten freaked out by the way he still thought of her.
He hoped it wasn't anything more complicated than that. Steve wasn't sure that his brain could take it.
Luckily, Robin was more than enough distraction when he got to work. A nervous tension had taken over her body, including her brain, apparently. It was like working with a sugar-fiend elementary schooler. Everything Robin said all Saturday was twice as many words with half the substance, and she never stopped moving. She reminded Steve of a spooked squirrel, darting from station to station, hands always toying with something not meant to be toyed with. At first, Steve had tried to be sympathetic. Robin had been through a lot, learned a lot about herself and her family, this weekend. Of course she was a little shaken up.
Still, eight hours was a long, long time. By Sunday morning, Steve almost missed the Robin who critiqued his every move and word. At least she had a personality that he could stand to be in the room with. Crisis mode had been cute at first, and then deeply annoying, but Steve had realized that this wasn't just anxiety or nerves. Robin was quickly heading into a full scale breakdown, and he wasn't sure how easily he was going to be able to clean up after that.
After hours of talking about the weather on a loop during their Sunday shift, Steve finally gave up and broke into the heart of the matter.
"So how's it going with your parents?"
Robin's reaction was swift, her whole body filling with anger at once until she was standing straight, her shoulders squared, and staring at him like he would attack at any moment. If she was Woged, Steve was sure her fur would actually be bristling.
"I'm only asking because I know how it can feel," Steve said, doing his best to keep his voice soft and comforting. He made sure not to make eye contact; An accidental woge would just set her off. "I mean, you already know all about my parents, but... I had Dustin and El and Hopper to talk about it with. It's a lot to process, and I didn't want you to have to do it yourself."
For a moment, Robin only stood stock-still, her muscles twitching with tightly held energy. Eventually, though, her stance softened, face going slack with what Steve thought might have been exhaustion. She groaned, turning away from him and leaning against the service counter. He gave her a moment, letting her work through her embarassment before she said, "I thought I was going to hate him. I really did. But then I looked him in the eyes and it... It was hard. Not because I didn't love him anymore. I do. But I know I'm not supposed to, and now when I look at him I want to throw up because I know what he's done, but he's still my dad, and I can't hate him."
Steve hummed, considering. "Alright, that's less relatable then I thought it was going to be, can't lie."
"But also I'm... really pissed off?" Robin ignored him, sounding unsure if she was even describing the right emotion.
"There it is."
"I just don't know why he would risk all our lives like this," Robin said, words in a rush and tempo gaining as she continued. "Even if your parents don't come back, ever, even if no one ever finds out... This is the exact stuff that got us kicked out of the last place. And I thought it was just rumors. I thought it was just Wesen gossip bullshit! But, no, it was his fault. And if he's not careful, then we're going to have to pack up and move again. It wasn't so bad, last time, 'cause I was so small, but... I don't have it in me to start over again. I don't! Why the hell did he think this was okay?"
"Honestly, Rob?" Steve winced. He hated that he had to be the one to say this, because generally he was all for being as anti-parent as possible, but Robin seemed actually distressed. She deserved answers, and Steve certainly didn't have them for her. "This is going to sound insane coming from me, but I think that might be something you have to talk to your dad about."
"And freak him out? No," Robin said, shaking her head as if she could banish the very thought, "that would just make everything worse. He'd probably move us to California on pure adrenaline alone."
"At least you don't have to worry about my parents. You're right, I'm not sure they're ever coming home. And even if they did..." Steve shrugged. "They're not exactly keen in meeting my friends. I'm pretty sure they think I'm still hanging out with Tommy and Carol everyday. Unless your dad does something ridiculously stupid, I doubt they'd even notice."
"This whole thing is ridiculously stupid," Robin hissed, and, yeah, she wasn't wrong, but that wasn't exactly the point Steve had been trying to make. He decided to change tactics.
"If it helps, Hop and I have already talked about what to do if my parents come home and start causing problems," he confessed, even though he knew she would probably tease him about trying to be a super-hero again later. As long as she didn't let Dustin hear it, he was willing to sacrifice his dignity to keep her from freaking out.
"Is that the plan Dustin was talking about?" Robin asked, too in her own head to start the mocking campaign.
"Yeah. Neither of us really felt... comfortable, letting my parents run the town the way they have until now. I don't like the idea of them holding things over people's heads. Like, I have no idea what their deal with the Wesen in Hawkins is, but I don't like it," Steve said. He wished he had talked to Wayne about it more, but he knew that revealing just how little his parents had told him would only worry the old man. "I know that, like, laws aren't that much different, but. Well. Hop isn't exactly great at those, either. I doubt he's going to change his mind just because people agreed to it when they got here." Steve wasn't great at remembering all the words for politics and wars and such, but he was pretty sure he knew right from wrong, now. Nancy had often talked about making people agree to things they actually had no choice in, just to make it look like you weren't a terrible person forcing people into things. His parents loved that trick; There was never a rule in the Harrington household they couldn't make him feel like shit for hating. He had no doubts they'd pull the same crap on some poor, scared stranger.
"That's great. No, seriously, it is. I'm sure for people like the Munsons, it'll be... It'll be great, to not have to worry. But my dad is doing something bad, Steve. Like, genuinely morally wrong," Robin said, and Steve had to admit that was a fair point. "Hopper would have a problem with that. And he would be right to."
"Why does Hopper have to know about it?" Steve asked, confused.
"... You would keep it from him? I thought he was, like, your 'psuedo-dad' or whatever," Robin said, air quotes and all.
"I keep things from Hop literally all the time," Steve said with a scoff. He wasn't sure when he had suddenly changed into such a good boy in Robin's eyes, but lying to parents had always been part of the Steve Harrington brand. When that parent was a cop, all the practice came in handy. "It's the only way El gets to see sunlight or hold hands with her boyfriend. I'm, like, a fucking professional at keeping things from Hopper. The criminals of Hawkins should be asking me for tips, at this point."
"Classy," Robin said, grinning. Likely at the image of a hardened criminal having an actual conversation with Steve. He knew it was ridiculous; That's why he said it.
"Besides, it's not like your dad is the one killing people or grinding them up. If I had to guess, he's sourcing them out of state. Maybe from a morgue or something?" Steve said, unable to stop himself from pulling a disgusted face. "Like, if this is a big operation, they're probably trying to keep it as clean as possible, to not get attention. I doubt anyone is dying because of him. People would notice! Someone just thought it was a good opportunity for a quick buck."
"You almost sound like you think he should keep doing it," Robin grumbled.
"No, it's still gross," Steve said. He'd always thought drugs were kind of stupid, honestly. Sure, some weed from time to time was fine, it was basically no different than drinking a lot, but otherwise it all seemed like a really expensive way to lose your teeth and die early. The idea of adding that to cannibalism was even wilder. He couldn't imagine ever needing a high that badly. "If you came in loaded on human heart one day, I'd probably stop talking to you. I definitely don't think I can look Mrs. Henderson in the eye again. But, uh, I don't think anyone deserves to die for it. Especially when the problem seems so..." Steve wasn't sure he had the words for it.
"So?" Robin prompted.
"I mean, he's not the only person doing it, you know?" Steve asked, hands spreading parallel as if he was making a globe. "The problem is bigger than him. Your dad being punished isn't actually going to do all that much, when you think about it. Like, have you thought about how weird it is that half the missing kids had parents in his black book? That's fucked. And the thing is, if something happened to your dad, they would just get it somewhere else. I think if we wanna stop this drug organ thing, it's gonna take a lot more time and patience than any Harrington has, including me."
Robin nodded to herself, silently, brow creased with thought. Steve, a little surprised that had actually made sense to her, turned back to scraping dried ice cream off the freezer. He didn't get very far before Robin said, "Please don't take this the wrong way, Steve, but I have to ask."
"Yeah?"
"Why do you go so far to save people like my dad when I know you're terrified of pissing yours off?" When Steve turned to look at her, Robin's face was solemn and her blue eyes were intense. Predator eyes. "You know what's gonna happen. I know you know. So why are you doing it anyway?"
Steve looked down at the scraper in his hands, picking at the residue on the edge with his thumb nail. He didn't like thinking about the inevitable end, hated even more knowing that he was only speeding it up. But Steve had told himself, two years ago, that he had to stop letting fear keep him from doing the right thing. And to his own surprise, he actually had. Steve wasn't about to break that streak now.
"... Your dad is a good dad?" he asked.
Robin sighed. "He doesn't always do it the right way, but I can't imagine a dad who would love me more than him."
Steve smiled sadly, and shrugged. "That's good enough for me."
After work that day, Steve came home to find his parents' answering machine blinking red at him. The kids hardly used the thing when they were calling Steve, mostly because they knew if he didn't answer they were more likely to find him somewhere else. The only people who really left messages were his parents' coworkers, which Steve had always thought was rather rich. They, of all people, should know his parents were off on business trips-- It made a lot more sense now that he knew. As Steve got older, the messages grew more and more sparing. Still, the answering machine blinked.
Steve rewound the recording and hit play.
"Steve, it's Nancy," the recording said. Nancy's voice wavered on her own name. "Can you call me ba--"
Nancy's voice cracked, and that was all it took for Steve stop the recording and pick up the phone.
"Wheeler residence, this is N--"
"Nancy, it's me." Steve frowned. He could hear her sniffling over the line, breathing deeply like she only did when she didn't want someone to notice that she was losing it. They had always been alike that way, never wanting the other one to see them cry. Steve had always just let her pretend, not wanting to push her out of her comfort zone. Well, he was sick of pretending.
"Oh, Steve. Good," Nancy said, voice uncharacteristically flat. "I was worried. I didn't--"
Steve cut through the bullshit. "Nancy, what's wrong?"
Nancy breathed deep. "Have you watched the news in the past two days?" she asked, voice soft. Like she was trying to gentle a blow. Like she was making bad news easier to bear.
"No," Steve said, blood running cold. He couldn't stop it. He knew he couldn't stop it now, when it was too late, but he tried bargaining with the universe anyway. Nancy was smarter than him; she could stop it, right? She could make it all go away. "Nancy, it was two days. I took two days to stop and do research," he begged. It was a poor excuse, but he was so tired.
"There's been five more," Nancy said, voice weak.
"No. Are you--" Steve's stomach lurched, and he stopped talking for fear he would vomit if he tried. He felt his body lean against the wall next to the phone, and closed his eyes, accepting the weakness that overtook him.
"I've checked the list a hundred times, Steve." Nancy took a deep breath, the air rattling in her lungs. "They're not here."
"No." Steve couldn't even regret the sob in his voice. It was as gentle as he could make it, when he wanted to scream.
"Steve, they're... they were close," Nancy whispered. "Close enough that the news anchors keep talking about Will and Barb."
Steve flinched like she had punched him in the chest. He had brought her into this. He had failed Nancy as much as he had failed those kids. Everytime Steve tried to breathe, it got caught in his throat-- He could feel the sorrow and the panic making a fist around his throat and squeezing tight."I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, Nance."
"They're not wrong," Nancy continued, and she didn't sound like herself. She sounded distant, faraway, like it couldn't reach her anymore. Like something outside of herself was compelling her to keep talking, when the girl herself just wanted to be done with it. "Everything the cops are saying... It's her, Steve. Parents and friends in the same house, and they're still just gone. Not a sound, no sign of a struggle. No witnesses. It's her. It's what happened to her."
"I'm sorry. Fuck, I'm sorry." What else was he supposed to say?
A long moment passed, Steve just listening to Nancy breathe on the line while he tried not to cry loud enough to disturb her. Eventually, she said, voice the youngest Steve had ever heard it, "Steve, can you-- Can you find them? You said you knew who was taking these kids; Can you find them?"
"I don't... Nancy, I don't think they're alive," he admitted. Steve had never said it out loud before, fearing that it would make things too real. He hadn't wanted to scare Dustin, hadn't wanted to tempt fate-- Steve had kept telling himself that it didn't matter, that as long as he could stop it before it hunted again, then it would be okay. But he was wrong. He had been so, so wrong. And now it was time for him to admit it. "The thing that's taking them is a hunter. The things they can do... It's bad. I can't bring them home. I'm sorry."
Nancy's breath hitched on the end of the line, and Steve realized she was crying. A year of dating, and it was only eight months after their breakup that they cried together. For Barb, for every kid growing up in a place that wanted them dead, for themselves.
"I'm sorry." Steve's fingernails bit into his skin. He could feel himself woge, and wished that he had claws like Robin or Eddie, something sharp enough to make him bleed like he deserved.
Even though he could still hear the rhythmic wheeze of her sobs, Nancy's voice was cold when she spoke again. "We don't have time for sorry, Steve. You find him. You find him, and then you make him pay. Do you understand?"
Yeah. Yeah, he could do that. Maybe he couldn't bleed, but he would make sure someone did.
"I promise. I promise, Nance."
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