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When the demobats fall to the ground, Eddie doesn't fall with them.
Dustin stops his desperate run for a few seconds. Eddie is standing, still holding the spear in his hand, and watches him with the same disbelief he's sure his face reflects. Then, the bastard, he laughs. He even dares to take a bow, as if it's all a fucking show.
He should be happy, he should be relieved. Yet an indescribable rage stirs like a caged animal in his chest.
Dustin screams. He screams fiercely, releasing every emotion he's feeling, and when Eddie approaches asking worriedly, in an anxious tone "Hey, kid, are you hurt? Where are you hurt?", Dustin throws himself into his arms and cries.
Eddie is an idiot.
They didn't cross the portal.
They're both sitting outside the trailer, still in the Upside Down, and Dustin has an iron grip on Eddie's arm. He's determined not to let Munson out of his sight again, at least until he considers that he won't do stupid things anymore. Eddie doesn't look like he's going to complain about that any time soon.
His eyes burn, he's sure they're still red, and Eddie keeps giving him that guilty look every time he catches him staring. He's apologized many times since he collapsed in his arms, but he still has that kicked puppy look that only intensified when he realized that Dustin did get hurt by his actions.
Good, he thinks spitefully, that way Eddie will learn not to do stupid things.
Dustin is so ready to tell Steve about this. He's sure he'll give Munson an epic scolding. Dustin himself has been on Steve's bad side more than once, the direct target of his disappointed face, and he knows for sure that he'll be able to make Eddie feel so guilty that he'll end up regretting all of his decisions.
No one can hold their own against Steve's disappointed face. He's seen Mike crumble in front of that face, Eddie doesn't stand a chance.
Eddie squeezes the arm he's holding him with, and reluctantly, Dustin pulls his gaze away from the rotting trees to look at him.
"They'll be fine, ok?" He smiles slightly, confidently, and Dustin feels a small irritation resurface, Eddie can't promise him that. He seems to read his mind when he continues, "The bats fell, Henderson. And while I'd like to think it was because of me and my amazing presentation, we both know that was because of our brave heroes. And Hawkins doesn't look like it was destroyed either, so we can rest assured that Red and the others are fine."
Eddie is probably right (Please let Eddie be right); but that does nothing to alleviate the anxiety that Dustin feels is overpowering him.
He returns his gaze to the trees. Steve is still not there.
In truth, that's the reason they haven't crossed the portal yet. He knows he should, he knows, but he can't do it. Not when the others aren't back yet, not when they may need him. Dustin can't cross the portal without knowing that they're okay.
That Steve is okay.
Eddie, fortunately, understood quickly. He only insisted once that they should cross, but when he only received a tired, stubborn look in return, he finally gave in and sat down beside him, accepting that they wouldn't leave without the others.
"They'll be fine" Eddie repeats, and Dustin wants to believe him, he really wants to but...
This is his fourth confrontation with the Upside Down, and somehow, this has felt the most dangerous, the only one with which he's ever doubted their victory.
And in all these years, there's a pattern that always repeats itself: in the end, Steve is always hurt.
He clenches his fists.
Steve was hurt before he was sent to face Vecna. Dustin is afraid of (if) how he will come back.
And he's not fooled. If something happened in that battle, he knows the injured one will be Steve. Idiot, self-sacrificing Steve, who would never let anyone else get hurt in front of him if he could help it.
He squashes the panic forming in his chest.
Harrington is resilient. That's another thing experience has shown him. Dustin wants to rely on that. If not in the data and the pattern, at least in that Steve will always come back for them, his little idiots, for Dustin.
He feels tapping on his arm, one that becomes more frantic and insistent when he doesn't give it his immediate attention. Dustin feels irritation crawl through his body, a sharp, hurtful retort on the tip of his tongue (He almost sees him dying, the others could already be dead for all he knows; so sue him, he's not in the mood). However, when he turns to look at Eddie, the words die in his throat. Eddie is on his feet, a joyous laugh he hasn't heard in weeks in his mouth, and he looks.... happy.
Eddie leans over him, one hand shaking his shoulder while the other gleefully points to a different part of the forest he wasn't paying attention to.
"I told you, Henderson! I told you!"
He turns his gaze to where he points, a little too quickly, anxious. There, crossing the last trees that separate them, Nancy, Robin, and Steve head toward them. Exhausted, a little worse for wear, perhaps sore, but alive, alive.
Steve.
An anguished sound he doesn't recognize makes its way through his lips. His eyes burn, his leg hurt like a bitch and he's fucking tired, but none of that stops him from leaping to his feet, gathering his strength to hobble hurriedly towards his brother.
His eyes blur with tears, he can barely see anything amidst his despair, but he's able to make out Steve running to meet him, and when they meet, oh, when they meet.
Dustin throws himself into his arms, Steve holds him, and that's all that matters.
"Hey, you're fine, okay? You're fine. I'm fine. And Eddie's fine, and Robin and Nancy are fine. We're fine."
They exit the Upside Down. Gentle, Steve helps him through the portal, and though Dustin's gaze is lingering on Eddie (who is still alive, the bats didn't kill him, but when this is all over when and he can finally relax, Dustin will kill him for the fucking scare he gave him), he never wants to be separated from Steve again. It's understandable then that he's the first to complain when the asshole announces that they will.
"Nancy, Robin, can you take Dustin and Eddie to my house?"
"What?"
At least he's not the only one who feels anxiety creeping up his throat. The other three teens look at Harrington with varying levels of alarm, all too ready to argue. Not that it does any good. Steve looks determined.
"My house will be empty." He explains, running a hand through his hair wearily. "It's a good place to regroup and rest, no one will be looking for Eddie there, and if anyone does, well, Nancy has a shotgun. Robs, you know where my spare key is. I'll go get Max, Lucas, and Erica."
It makes sense, of course. Someone has to go after the others. Eddie was still a wanted man, Robin had a way into the Harrington house, Nancy was their defense and offense if anything happened, and Dustin not only didn't want to let Eddie out of his sight, but he was injured, and wouldn't be able to move as fast as the situation called for (but he could try, he thinks. He'd try if it would allow him to go with Steve. Not that anyone would allow it).
Steve is the only option.
And they were Max, Lucas, and Erica. Part of Steve's brats. Of course he would be the only option.
"Hey, hey, Dustin." The older teen watches him calmly, his hands firm and gentle over his own, the one holding tightly a fistful of Steve's stained jacket, and uh, he didn't remember grabbing it. A sudden heat invaded his cheeks, embarrassment clawing at his chest. "Dustin, I'll be back, okay? I'll get the other little shits and come back, and then we'll all get something to eat, get some sleep, and I'll let you tell me again about the benefits of playing your silly nerd game, maybe this time you can convince me to try it."
Dustin hears a small, annoyed, exaggerated exclamation from Eddie, and a slight watery laugh escapes him. "Dungeons and Dragons, Steve. I know you know the name."
"Whatever." He sees him roll his eyes with a small smile. "I'll be back, okay? Promise."
Dustin lets him go, because he'll be back, and the rest of the Party needs him.
She falls into the chorus of Running Up That Hill.
When she has a second to think about anything other than getting air into her lungs, and that she's alive, God, she's alive, Max notices that it's Lucas holding her. Lucas, who sang her favorite song to save her. Lucas, who is trying hard not to cry.
Lucas, who is hurt but looks at her with such a relieved smile.
Max wants to cry.
"It's going to be a romantic movie." Her voice trembles and she's sure Sinclair notices because he squeezes her tighter, the idiot. "We'll watch a silly romantic movie. And I want a bunch of snacks."
"Okay," he replies, nodding too quickly. "but I'll pick it. Your taste is crap."
Max lets out a small laugh. She ran away from Vecna. She escaped Vecna because Lucas sang her favorite song, a raw version with no melody, off-key, and yet it's so much better than Kate Bush's version. She can't wait to tell El that it was Lucas who sang--,
"El!" She breaks away from Lucas quickly, despair clear on her face. "El was there! She stood up to Vecna."
"El? But her powers..."
"She got them back." She lets out, brow furrowed in concern. "But she couldn't beat him. I don't know what happened to her. I don't know if she's okay."
Lucas looks at her hesitantly, as if he doesn't know what to do with the information. Max doesn't know either, but she knows they have to get out of there, so with shaky legs and Sinclair's help she gets to her feet.
Erica, who had been at the door watching the interaction, didn't hesitate to come over to help as well.
That's how they leave the Creel house. With Max in the middle of the Sinclair siblings, helping her and never looking back.
On the driveway, their steps falter to a halt.
It's not that they don't want to get away from the house, nor that something is preventing them from moving forward, it's just that none of them know what to do next.
All night they have been following a plan. They improvised a bit, sure, but the plan was there. And even before that, everything they've done so far hadn't been entirely up to them, there was always someone else there, someone to rely on if things went wrong.
Max is no longer a child, but she finds herself missing Steve's reassuring presence. Which is silly, because it's not like he can do much of anything, Nancy with her sawed-off shotgun and leadership would be a better choice. However, if she had a choice, she knows she'd choose her babysitter, because wasn't it Nancy who always put them first. Who protected them against everything. Who still cared about them even when there was no longer a monster to fight.
(Who acted like the brother she always wanted).
That was Steve.
In the dark of night, with the memory of Vecna still fresh in his mind, what almost was and the threat still hanging over their heads, alone with Lucas and Erica by her side, Max feels the weight of the situation fall on her shoulders.
She takes a deep breath, pushing down the panic that is trying to find a place in her chest. Her eyes burn, but she won't cry. Beside her Lucas massages with his thumb where their hands are joined, humming her song, and it feels like he is her anchor. Max hopes to be his anchor too.
She sees out of the corner of her eye Erica takes a few steps away from them, looking a little further, and Max abruptly turns in that direction, not quite sure what she'll see or how to deal with it, but ready to try to deal with any threat. Lucas mimicked her, straightening his posture and reaching out as if he wants to grab his sister and hide her behind him.
It ends up not being necessary because what Erica is seeing is Steve fucking Harrington running towards them.
Oh.
Max hears a relieved laugh come out of her mouth; she's not even sure why she's surprised. Of course Steve, who complained about always being the damn babysitter, would be the one to come get them. Of course he would come when they needed him.
Of course.
An involuntary sob escapes from her, taking her by surprise. What the-, she doesn't know where that came from. She doesn't... She doesn't-. Panic resurfaces, Max can't push it off like before, and it's too much, it's all too much, breathing is suddenly stupidly difficult, and tears fall from her eyes without consent, and damn it! What the hell, how fucking pathetic, why is she crying, she's fine, she's fine.
Lucas watches her with his big eyes, surprised and worried to see her cry, and Max feels the shame crawl like an itch through her body. She wants to disappear, to hide in some corner even though she knows Lucas will never judge her, she wants to, she wants to-...
Lucas is crying.
She feels her mouth open in surprise, because Lucas is crying, his face covered by his forearm as if he wants to hide, and Max hears herself whisper his name urgently, genuine concern in her voice because Lucas is crying and she doesn't know why. Is he in pain? Aaand that's a stupid question, of course he's in pain, he's hurt, and Max doesn't know how that happened, she just ignored that in her rush to get out, because she's a horrible person, selfish and
A different sobbing catches the couple's attention. Erica looks at them both with tears in her eyes, and for the first time since she's known her, she doesn't look like the brave, determined little girl she remembers.
The fact is that Max has seen Steve, he's closing in on them fast with his stupidly good athletic skills, but he's still far away, it should take him a few minutes to catch up to them.
Max doesn't know if seeing the three of them crying gave him babysitting superpowers or something silly like that, but suddenly Steve is there, grabbing the three of them and pulling them to his chest, wrapping his arms around them, as if that's enough to protect them from the world.
And with that, it's as if one last thing finally loosens in her chest. Because it is, Max thinks, with a shaky but fierce grip on Steve's jacket. It's enough, it always is. They're always safe with him.
His crying stops long before the girls', and yet it is not until they pull away from the embrace that Lucas does too. He is not as ashamed of that fact as perhaps he should be. A lot has happened in the last while, and he regrets a lot, but he can't regret enjoying the reassurance and security that Steve offers. He's tired and sore, and the only thing keeping him on his feet is a mixture of adrenaline and concern for the people he cares about. The warm feeling, the appreciation the hand on the back of his neck conveys is a comfort he needs.
When they separate, he watches Steve place his hands on Max's face, and look intently at her for injuries (broken bones, sunken eyes), before he breathes a sigh of relief. Something inside him calms as he watches Harrington's reaction. Lucas himself hasn't stopped looking for injuries since Max woke up; sometimes he's afraid he'll blink and find her body on the ground, her limbs twisted. He's afraid he didn't sing, that it didn't work. But Max is fine, Steve would know if she wasn't.
Lucas lets out a breath he didn't even know he was holding.
Steve's attention shifts to Erica.
"I'm fine," she says immediately, not giving him a chance to assess her. Her voice wobbles and her eyes are still red, but she's regained all her stubbornness. Their babysitter frowns and she continues then, calmer. "It's just some scrapes, you can fix them later." There is something soft, small, in her words. Reassurance for Steve and herself, perhaps. Reassurance that she knows he will take care of her, that she trusts him and will let him do it, that she won't deal with anything alone. And then, "Lucas is hurt."
Erica, traitor.
Steve's head turns too quickly in his direction. His brow furrows further and his jaw tenses. Anguish and discomfort seem to pour out of him in waves.
Lucas feels guilt scratching at his chest. He can't help but fret in his place at the look Steve gives him as if he's done something wrong. He doesn't understand. He wasn't exactly hiding his injuries, he just... didn't draw attention to them. They've all been hurt, hell, he's seen Steve shake off obviously very painful demobats bites like it's nothing, so what's a couple of bumps, he can take it.
Even if it scared him. Even if it still scares him that Jason could have killed him.
But Steve wasn't scared when Billy hit him. And if there's one thing Lucas wants, besides his friends and family to be safe and sound, for the Upside Down to never bother them again, it's to be a little like Steve.
Harrington's hands flutter around him as if he doesn't know where to touch without hurting him.
"Shit, kid. What the hell happened?"
His throat closes. He wants to tell him everything. He wants to tell him that Jason Carver pulled a gun on him, that he fired. He wants to tell him that his punches wouldn't stop, that Max floated, that the Walkman was broken. He wants to tell her that for a second too long, he couldn't remember the stupid song.
He doesn't tell him any of that.
Steve understands anyway.
"Later. You can tell me later."
The older teen checks his head carefully, so carefully that he feels he might cry again. He doesn't, that would be embarrassing.
Steve asks him what his name is, what year it is, who the president is; and it's not until that last question that he realizes why Harrington is so adamant that Lucas answers them: a concussion. He's worried that he has a concussion. This whole scene is nothing more than an imitation of what happened years earlier when Lucas watched with growing concern and fear as Hopper asked the same questions of the barely conscious teenager who had become his hero.
Mayfield, because she's awesome, holds his hand through the whole process. She doesn't let go even when Steve declares him well enough not to have to go to the hospital right away but, he warns him, that he will definitely be checking on him more closely as soon as they get back to the others.
The others, who are alive.
"Jason's still here." He mentions suddenly, interrupting whatever Harrington is saying about his incessant concern for all of them, because this is important, and even though Lucas won, and if it comes to that, he knows Steve will definitely win, he still doesn't want to see him. He doesn't want to risk Jason hurting someone else.
"The other fool is probably around here too." his sister adds just a moment later, and that shoots cold spikes down his spine because Jason was alone when they fought, and Erica has scrapes, and she cried, and she's only eleven, what happened, what did they do to her? Nothing was supposed to happen to her, but something did, and Lucas... Lucas wasn't there.
Guilt churns inside him, threatening to swallow him whole. Lucas knows he couldn't have helped his younger sister, he knows, but he should have kept her away from this.
Max, who is awesome and still hasn't let go of his hand, massages the back of it with her thumb, soothing his worries for a while. It is an imitation of the action he did for her earlier. He has no words to describe how much he appreciates her, how grateful he feels that she is well.
Max is fine. Erica is fine.
Lucas takes a deep breath.
Steve levels the three of them with a glare, then turns to the Creel house. From the way he clenches his fists, he knows he wants to go in, and rip apart everyone who hurt them, but then he looks back at them.
"Right. Yeah." He answers resolutely, unclenching his fists. "Let's get out of here."
Harrington drapes an arm over Max's shoulders, pulling her close, and offers Erica his hand, letting her decide if she wants to take it. She does. Lucas doesn't need to yearn for a touch of comfort as well, because Max hasn't separated their hands, and their protector doesn't stop looking at him, watching for any sign of pain.
As they drive away from the Creel house, he does not doubt that after this, Steve won't take his eyes off them.
Lucas has no complaints about it.
There's a band-aid with a drawing of an orange brontosaurus over Lucas's left eyebrow, a blue parasaurus on his cheek. He has passed, for the moment, the Harrington health exam, and he looks tired but calm, squeezed as close as possible to Max on the small sofa they share.
Dustin is similar. He has his ankle freshly wrapped in firm bandages, and his hand tightly holds Eddie's, with whom he lies next to Robin and Nancy sharing the largest couch in the room.
A nailbat rests against the furniture, but no one mentions it, so Erica doesn't either. She thinks everyone finds some comfort in having a weapon nearby.
(She wishes she'd had a weapon sooner. If she'd had it, she could have gotten free faster, could have helped Lucas.
But she didn't have it, and Lucas ended up hurt).
A snap of fingers catches her attention. Steve is looking at her worriedly from where he is kneeling in front of her. A first aid kit filled was to the brim beside him. There are My Little Pony Band-Aids on her knees, and maybe Erica was too distracted, because she doesn't remember them hurting, and Erica always hurts when her mom cleans her scrapes, even if she doesn't complain too much about it because, you know, she's not a little girl anymore and can handle it.
But she's relieved, she thinks, that Steve decided to use My Little Pony Band-Aids and not the boring adult ones she's seen in her first aid kit.
"Erica, are you hurt somewhere else?"
She thinks this isn't the first time her babysitter has asked her, so she hastens to shake her head. Steve looks at her a little longer, judging, before nodding and sighing wearily. Then he pulls away and plops down on a single sofa.
She looks at him for a second. There's a grimace on his face because of the sudden movement, and it abruptly reminds her that he was hurt before all this. The idiot, she thinks in exasperation, has been taking care of and tending to everyone's ass, without once taking care of himself.
In the lowlights of the Harrington living room, the angry red line in his throat looks even worse.
She bites her lower lip. Her DnD character is a Rogue, which means that her skills consist of taking advantage of her wits and her opponent's weaknesses. These are skills Erica believes herself to possess, and generally, she has considered them a source of pride.
But right now, she would like to share the skills of a Cleric, because she doubts very much that dinosaur or My Little Pony band-aids would do any good for her babysitter's wounds, and Erica doesn't know what to do, she doesn't have the knowledge to help him as he did, and helplessness settles in her bones with fury.
Carefully, very carefully so as not to aggravate any injuries, she approaches the couch and climbs on top of Steve, lying on his chest wearily. Immediately one of his arms wraps around her, protecting her. If it were anyone else, she might feel embarrassed, but it's Steve, and if there's anyone besides her mom with whom she can feel safe enough to act like a child it's him.
Erica presses herself a little closer, her head right over her babysitter's heart.
It smells bad, there is dirt on his clothes and it is not comfortable, but not many other places she would rather be.
After sleeping, she will take Steve to her mother. She'll be able to fix him up, take care of his wounds like he took care of hers. And Erica will pay attention, so she can help him next time.
He must only have closed his eyes for an hour, maybe two, the tiredness is still too present to be more, yet when he wakes up the scene around him has changed. The worry that his brats are not where he left them only lasts a few seconds because then he sees them, and a warm feeling in his chest replace it.
Erica is still under his arm, resting, but on the armrest of his sofa sits Max, leaning back against him. Steve is quick to move his other arm to pull her in, settling her in as best he can.
Dustin is at his feet, with one arm over Steve's knee, using it as a pillow, and Lucas is on the other side, just leaning against his leg. They are all asleep and a blanket covers each boy, a larger one is shared between the girls and him.
Sometime during the night the kids have decided that the safest place to be is next to him, and it can't be comfortable, they will surely wake up tomorrow sore from the bad position, and yet their expressions only reflect tranquility.
Across from them, still in the same spot where he last saw them, Robin, Nancy, and Eddie share another blanket in a mess of limbs and sleepy murmurs. He'll have to thank Robin later for the thought of the blanket; he knows it was her.
Steve closes his eyes, taking a few moments to breathe, to rejoice that the people he cares about most are alive, all in one room. His brats at his fingertips.
(He finds himself thinking about Mike, Will, and El, not for the first time since this all started. Mrs. Byers and Jonathan too. He hopes they are okay).
He knows the danger is not over yet, Jason and his goons are still a threat, Vecna / Henry / One will soon regain his strength, and tomorrow there will be plans to make and unexpected situations to deal with, but for now he will relax, because everything will be okay. Steve won't let anyone hurt his brats again.