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How it started
It started with Dustin showing up at Scoops Ahoy! with a flushed face and an old walkie-talkie. Robin was behind the counter, but she was always quick to shout for Steve anytime one (or more) of the kids showed up (She also always laughed at him for how fast he slams through the door to greet them).
Dustin thrusted the old walkie into Steve’s hands without a word, then turned on his heel and left as quickly as he’d come inside. Steve stared down at the walkie in bemusement, ignoring Robin as she teased him for the strange interaction.
“You know what this means, right?” she asked him when she’d regained his attention. He just stared at her (no, he hadn’t put the walkie down yet. He was oddly touched to be gifted with it; he knew how important the walkies were to the Party). “You’re such an idiot, Harrington. This is their way of letting you know you’re in their group.”
“Nah,” he protested. “I’m way older than them. Dustin only gave me this old thing so that he can get ahold of me next time he needs a ride somewhere.”
“Sure,” Robin rolled her eyes. “You keep telling yourself that. When I’m right, though, you’re going to owe me a favor, to be determined at a later date.”
“Whatever,” he replied. He was back to looking down at the walkie in no small amount of wonder. It took him another couple of minutes to realize… “I have no clue how the hell to use this thing.”
“You’re such an idiot,” Robin repeated. Then she set about teaching him the basics of the walkie talkie.
The first time
Steve kept the walkie on him at all times from then on out. It stayed in the back room of the ice cream shop while he was working, turned up as loud as he could get it so he wouldn’t accidentally miss a ‘code red’. He always had it beside him in the car when he was driving, no matter where he was going or who was with him. (It was usually Robin, who had given up on teasing him after he stopped giving her any kind of reaction.) When he was at home, it was usually within reach of wherever he’d sat down.
Nobody had tried to contact him with it in the two weeks he’d had it, but that was a good thing. He wasn’t disappointed. Not at all.
“Steve? Come in, Steve. Over.”
Steve recognized Dustin’s voice even through the static of the walkie. Given how much static there was, Steve was guessing that the call was coming from the Byers’ residence. Maybe even Hopper’s cabin. He debated with himself on whether or not he wanted to answer right away. That would be like admitting that he not only kept the thing with him, but kept it on and ready at all times. He waited too long, because Dustin cut in with a second message before he could even pick it up to reply.
“Damn it Steve, answer! We gave you the walkie for a REASON. Over.”
He had to snort to himself as he picked up the walkie. If he’d had it turned off or not in hearing distance, that message would have been pointless. Dustin seemed to realize that, because he almost immediately spoke again.
“Shit. I really don’t want to bike over there, Steve. Please have this on… Over.”
He’d made him wait long enough. He held the button down and answered, trying not to grin at the absurdity of the whole situation. “Chill, Henderson. I’m right here. What’s wrong? … Over.”
“Oh, thank god,” Dustin sighed, relief obvious even through the static. “Can you bring some kind of bandages or something over to Will’s house? We don’t have any and we really need some right now. Over.”
Steve’s blood ran cold. “Why the hell do you need bandages?”
Dustin took a few extra seconds to respond, and Steve was almost to the door with keys in hand when he spoke again. “You have to say ‘over’ when you’re finished or nobody will know you’re done talking. Over.”
“Why the HELL do you need bandages?” Steve snapped, teeth gritted together. “Over.”
“Max had an accident on her skateboard coming up the long drive,” Dustin said hesitantly. “ Mrs. Byers is at work still and we couldn’t get ahold of anyone else who might be able to pick them up and get out here. Over.”
He didn’t give himself time to be hurt that he was a last resort. Distantly, he knew that these kids didn’t have any reason to think that they could count on him outside of the ice cream parlor or world-ending emergencies. What (technically) adult would want to spend extra time with barely-teenagers if they weren’t getting paid? He was in his car and pulling out of the driveway as he gave his answer.
“I’m on my way now,” he said. “I’ll swing by the drugstore on my way. Do you need any kind of disinfectant, or do you have that there? Over.”
He was guessing that the kids were talking, based on how long it took for a reply to come through. This reply came from someone else; he was pretty sure it was Will Byers, but he didn’t know most of the others’ voices well enough to be sure just yet. He’d be changing that soon.
“Assume that we don’t have anything we’d need to take care of this. She’s bleeding more than just a quick fall would usually cause, and we really don’t know what we’re doing. That’s why we need help. Over.”
“I think this could be considered a ‘code red’,” Steve grumbled to himself, but he didn’t say it over the walkie. He’d just parked at the store, so he didn’t bother to give a reply. He left the walkie in the car when he went inside. In less than five minutes, he’d used a good chunk of his most recent pay check to buy a large package of bandages, a bottle of disinfectant, a bottle of aspirin, and a large bar of chocolate. He was going to keep whatever they didn’t use in his glove compartment for the next big emergency; he was going to be prepared from now on.
When he made it out to the car, he caught the very end of a panicked transmission. “-You’re still coming? Steve?! Over…”
“Yes, you little shits, I’m still coming. Over,” Steve sighed into the walkie. He put his car back into drive and sped on down the road towards the Byers residence.
“Don’t disappear like that,” Dustin snapped, sounding genuinely upset. “Over.”
Steve almost snapped something mean back, but he took a second to consider the reaction to his sudden lack of response. It was likely that the kids had either assumed that he’d abandoned them to their fate due to their lack of knowledge, or that something very bad had happened in his silence. Given the town’s history of misfortune, it certainly wasn’t outside the realm of possibilities. He sighed to himself, running a hand down his face before he picked the walkie back up to respond.
“I’m sorry, kid. I didn’t want to take it inside of the store, because the people in this town are nosy. I thought I’d be back out to the car fast enough that you wouldn’t have said anything in the time I was gone,” he admitted. “Over.”
Dustin’s reply took a couple extra seconds, and it was very quiet. “ It’s okay. Sorry. Over.”
Steve didn’t bother with a reply of his own, because he was already pulling into the long driveway of the Byers’ house. He could see Dustin out on the porch, waving both of his arms wildly. He assumed that the other kids must be inside of the house. He left the walkie in his car, gathering up the medical supplies and practically sprinting up to the porch from his car. Like hell was he making them wait any longer for help.
The second time
He was sitting home alone the next time the walkie went off. His parents were out on one of their frequent ‘business trips’, and he had the house all to himself for over a week. The old Steve Harrington would have thrown a raging party, gotten completely wasted, and trashed the house in retaliation for being left on his own again. Fortunately for his parents, Steve had been through enough at this point in his life that he was glad for the silent house all to himself. It meant that there was no trouble to be found. It was peaceful.
“Steve? Are you there? Over.”
Well, it was peaceful. At this point, Steve had spent enough time with the Party to be able to tell their voices apart now. He recognized Lucas’s voice immediately. He also recognized that something was off about it, but he couldn’t quite place what it was. Was he in pain?
“Yeah, I’m here. What’s up Sinclair? Over,” he replied without hesitation. He knew better than to make them wait for a reply after the last emergency. He’d realized that they were only going to radio him for the emergencies, and he’d accepted that. He wasn’t really a member of their party, after all. Just the babysitter. He could accept that role.
“I need a ride. Over.”
He absolutely refused to become a chauffeur, though. It was bad enough that Dustin kept guilting him into giving him various rides, since his mother only drove for the things she deemed important, and driving Dustin places was apparently not important. He wasn’t going to be driving all of the little shits around all of the time. Absolutely not.
“I’m a bit busy. Don’t you have a bike?” he shot back, frowning. “Over.”
“Yeah, but I’m not…”
Steve waited patiently when Lucas trailed off, because he hadn’t said that magic word. He’d learned after listening to the kids with their radios that they really took saying ‘over’ seriously, and if it hadn’t been said, they were not done speaking. It didn’t seem to matter how long it took them to get their words out. He wasn’t disappointed from his wait.
“I’ve been with the guys from basketball. We were… I’ve been drinking, and I don’t feel so good. My mom told me people get into accidents when they drink and drive, but I CAN’T call her. She’d kill me. I didn’t know who else to call… Over.”
Well, shit. Of course the basketball idiots had been drinking, and of course they’d managed to pressure Sinclair into joining them. The good news was that this would probably teach Lucas not to drink like that anymore. The bad news was that if Steve didn’t go pick him up, he could get himself into real trouble. Underage drinking was one of the things Hopper actually took pretty seriously.
“Yeah, fine,” Steve sighed. “I’m heading out to the car now. Where are you? Over.”
“Jason Carver’s house, on Maplecrest. His parents are out this week, and he invited all of us over. He… doesn’t know that I’m leaving. Over.”
“I won’t be telling him,” Steve promised. He didn’t point out that Jason would definitely eventually notice Sinclair’s absence. It wouldn’t be helpful. He wanted Lucas to stay as calm as possible. Stress would just make him nauseous, and he didn’t want to be cleaning up vomit tonight. “Either wait on the porch or start walking to the end of the street, whatever you’re most comfortable with. I’m on my way now. Over.”
“Will you… keep talking with me? Please? Over.”
He couldn’t even be mad. He’d been that age once, and he remembered the first time he’d felt too uncomfortable with the people he’d been partying with to stay. He’d mistakenly called his father for a ride, and it was the first time his father had ever laid a hand on him. It wasn’t the last time.
“Yeah, of course. Want to tell me what you’ve got planned for your next hangout with the Party?” he asked. “Over.”
It worked as a distraction. The entire five minutes it took Steve to get over to Maplecrest, Lucas gave him a detailed description of what he thought Mike had planned for their next session of D&D. Steve asked the appropriate questions, and he got Lucas to explain some of the basics of the game (even though he’d already learned the basics from an overly excited Dustin weeks ago). By the time he was pulling to the curb beside him, Lucas had calmed down considerably, and he sounded a lot more sober.
“Thank you,” Lucas said softly as Steve pulled up to his house.
“You don’t need to thank me,” Steve shrugged, feeling a little uncomfortable. “I remember telling you guys that I have your back, and I meant it.”
“Yeah…” Lucas said after giving him an assessing look. “I can see that.”
The third time
Even though he’d been spending more and more time with the kids, he rarely spent alone time with any of them outside of Dustin. Dustin kept showing up alone at Scoops, or on his doorstep when he knew that Steve’s parents were out of town. Sometimes he brought games or movies with him, and sometimes he just spent hours talking about anything and everything. Steve was never sure if he did it because he thought Steve needed it, or if he did it because he needed it, but he never tried to put a stop to it.
After the incident with Lucas, he sometimes received calls on the walkie that were not pleas for help. Usually it was Dustin, who seemed to take him saving Lucas as permission to get even more involved in his personal life. Sometimes it was Lucas, but those calls were still pretty awkward and stilted. Once or twice it was Will, who asked for help that he didn’t really need with his homework as an excuse for smalltalk. Max called a few times when she was hiding from her mother, and Steve was always happy to be a distraction from problems like that. Mike called him exactly one time, offering an invitation to their next game of D&D, which he declined because he had to be at work.
Eleven never called him.
Dustin told him a few different times that he couldn’t take Eleven’s silences personally. She apparently only ever called Mike if she wanted to talk to someone, and she’d never called anyone for an emergency, because either she could handle it by herself or she had Hopper to handle it for her. Steve was determined not to be disappointed that one of his adopted children (so called by Robin, and the name had stuck) didn’t seem to want to get to know him. It was weird enough that he was forming pretty deep friendships with five kids. He didn’t need a sixth.
No amount of telling himself that really made him feel better. He knew some of the things that Eleven had been through during her childhood, and he felt bad that she didn’t think she could trust him. He knew she couldn’t trust people easily. He was hoping that if he continued to hang around and help the others, she’d warm up to him eventually.
He was working on a particularly hard college essay when his walkie crackled to life. He’d been keeping it on the quietest volume recently, because Dustin had a bad habit of calling at the worst possible moments. To hear it so loudly in the silence startled him into dropping his pen. He hadn’t touched the volume.
“Steve.”
The rest of the party religiously used ‘over’ to end their messages, but El hadn’t quite picked up on the habit herself. Nothing Mike told her made her understand. (Steve quietly suspected that she was doing it on purpose, because he knew that she liked it when Mike tried to teach her things.)
“Eleven? What’s up? Over,” Steve responded as soon as he’d calmed down enough to pick up the walkie without dropping it.
“Mike is busy.”
He happened to know that Mike had been dragged along to see his little sister’s choir program at the elementary school. That didn’t explain a single thing to him. “Uh, yeah. He should be done in an hour or two? Over.”
“That will be too late.”
Steve really wasn’t liking the sound of this. Anything that Mike would be too late for couldn’t be a good thing, but he’d promised himself a long time ago that he wouldn’t let his kids down. (Thank god Robin couldn’t read his mind to know that he’d started considering these kids as his. He’d never live it down.)
“Okay. What do you need? Over,” he replied as calmly as he could. His mind ran over the possibilities, which was everything from more bandages to a ride to the hospital. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to get ahold of Hopper or not, and he was going through the people he could call to find him when Eleven replied.
“I am out of waffles.”
Steve blinked a few times, staring down at the walkie in disbelief. Her emergency… the one that couldn’t wait for Mike… was that she was out of frozen waffles?! He didn’t know how to respond to that. He wanted to turn the walkie off, or use it to lecture her on what constituted an emergency, but…
But he knew what her childhood had been like up to this point. He’d watched her for long enough to know that she used waffles that way most children used a security blanket. She tended to eat more of them when she was stressed or upset or hurting. If this couldn’t wait, it meant that she was having a very bad day. She could have called Hopper, but she’d chosen to call Steve. He kind of thought this was her way of telling him that she trusted him now. He couldn’t ignore that, or yell at her for it.
“Steve?”
He let out a sigh, then pressed down on the button. “Okay. Okay, here’s what we’re going to do,” he said. “I’m going to come pick you up, and we’re going to go to an actual diner. I feel like actual waffles are better than frozen waffles, right? Over.”
“I have only had frozen.”
His jaw dropped in disbelief. Nobody had thought to take her to get real, fresh waffles? Ever? That seemed like a pretty serious crime to him. “We’re going to fix that today. And on the way back to your house, we’ll stop a pick up a couple boxes of frozen ones so you won’t be out anymore. How does that sound?”
“Okay.”
Just like that, the conversation was over. Steve had so many questions, though. He was trying not to think about what might be upsetting El enough to have her calling him of all people for help, but his mind was running through scenarios against his will. He was still trying (unwillingly) to figure it out when he parked outside of her house. She climbed into his car silently, and he swung back onto the road towards his favorite diner.
“So…” he started, but let it trail off. He didn’t know how to tactfully ask her what was wrong. She took pity on him.
“I do not know when my birthday is,” she informed him bluntly. He blinked over at her for a few seconds, confused. “Dustin’s birthday is next week. He was telling me about what a birthday means. I do not know when mine is.”
“Huh,” Steve said after a few seconds. He thought about it before offering more of a response. “Well… I don’t know how we could find out when your official birthday is, but is there a day that means more to you than any other?”
Eleven seemed to think about it for a while. They were nearly to the diner when she spoke again. “The day I left the lab.”
“Okay,” he said slowly. “I think that’s as good a day as any to be your birthday.”
She seemed to be considering that as they settled into a booth at the diner. Steve went ahead and ordered waffles and bacon for both of them, ignoring the strange looks they were getting for being there together. It was mostly older folks, and they were probably assuming that he was taking his little sister out for dinner or something. Finally, she looked up and met his eyes with startling intensity.
“I would like that very much,” she told him. “That is coming up soon.”
“Is it?” he asked, smiling. “We’ll do something to celebrate. Want me to tell the others for you? That way they have time to plan something if they want to.”
“That would be… acceptable,” she agreed softly. She gave him a tentative smile. “Thank you.”
“Any time, kid,” Steve said without thinking. El’s smile grew a little. He didn’t ask her why it bothered her so much not to know when her birthday was, because he thought that he might understand. That was just one more thing that the lab had taken from her. Honestly, he thought it was pretty great that she’d chosen the day she’d escaped as her new birthday. It was something she could take back from them.
They ate in relative silence, and Steve stopped by a store to buy her more frozen waffles as promised on their way back to Hopper’s cabin. Hopper himself was waiting impatiently on the porch when they got back, and El stiffened in her seat when she saw him. Steve noticed that she hugged the boxes of waffles more securely to her chest before she got out of his car. He followed her up to the porch, although he hadn’t planned to when they’d left the store. Hopper’s hard gaze softened a little when he saw the boxes in El’s arms, and he let her pass without comment.
“If you’re going to be mad at anyone-” Steve started, but Hopper cut him off.
“I’m not mad,” he sighed. “I was more than a little worried when I came home and she was gone, but I’m glad she was with you and not out on her own.”
“She needed a distraction,” Steve told Hopper quietly. “Her birthday was bothering her.”
“Her birthday?” Hopper asked, raising his eyebrows. “I don’t even know when… Oh.”
“Yeah,” Steve agreed. “She chose the day she escaped from the lab, which I’m hoping you know, because I definitely don’t. I promised to pass it on, though.”
“November,” Hopper said after a second. “We got the report of a death at the diner on the eighth, which means she got out on the seventh.”
“Okay,” Steve said after a second. “So November seventh is Eleven’s birthday, then.”
“Right,” Hopper agreed awkwardly. “God, that’s coming up, isn’t it?”
“In a couple weeks,” Steve nodded. “I’ll tell the others, and we’ll plan some kind of party or something. And Hop? You might want to reassure her that you’re not mad. I’m not all that observant, but even I could tell she was scared of disappointing you.”
Hopper made a grunting sound that Steve took as agreement, so he turned to go back home. A hand on his shoulder stopped him, and he turned back with a raised eyebrow. Hopper looked supremely uncomfortable. “Thank you.”
Steve gave him a small smile, and spoke deliberately this time. “Any time.”
The fourth time
It wasn’t uncommon for Steve to be found at the arcade nowadays. Whether he was inside attempting to play one of the games with any number of the kids, or parked outside waiting for them to come outside, he could usually be found there at least three times a week. If he cared what people thought about him, he might be worried about his reputation, but he’d stopped caring about things like that around the third time he’d almost died while saving the town.
He was sitting out in his car, fiddling with his radio while he waited for Dustin and Lucas, when he got the call on his walkie. He’d naively assumed that since he was with the two most troublesome members of the party, he wouldn’t be dealing with any emergencies. He wanted to smack himself for assuming.
“... Hey, Steve? Over…”
He hadn’t been expecting to hear from Will for a while, and the tone of voice made him stare at the walkie in apprehension. He didn’t want to answer, but he also knew that Will wouldn’t try again. Not with that tone.
“Yeah, kid? Over,” he responded. He tapped his fingers against his steering wheel impatiently, but he kept his voice calm and steady. It was lucky that Dustin and Lucas were taking their sweet time.
“Are you busy? Over.”
“Nope,” he replied. It wasn’t really a lie; as long as those two were inside the arcade, he had absolutely nothing to do. “Over.”
“Do you think… do you think you could come to my house? Over.”
It would involve going into the arcade to drag those two brats out, dropping them off at home as quickly as he could, and possibly breaking a traffic law or two, but… Will didn’t ever ask for favors like this. Not from Steve, and not from members of the party. He was pretty sure Jonathon was the only one Will had ever felt comfortable being vulnerable in front of.
“I can do that,” he said after a second. “Right now? Do you need me to bring anything? Over.”
He was already pulling his key out of the ignition and shoving the car door open when Will replied. “Yes. I just… don’t want to be alone. Over.”
Steve stopped right outside of the car, before he’d even closed the door. That was the oddest request he’d gotten in a while from any of his kids, but it made sense in a sad way. He knew that Will had spent a long time completely alone in the Upside Down, hiding from demogorgons and struggling to survive. He could understand him having bad days where he didn’t want to be alone. But he was also still certain that Will usually called Jonathan for things like this. Maybe Mike, on occasion. Why him?
“Uh-” he hesitated. He really wasn’t sure he was the best person for this, but Will had reached out… he couldn’t say no.
“No, it’s… I’m fine. Never mind. Over.”
“I’ll be there, kid, you just gotta give me a few minutes. I have to make a couple stops, okay? Over,” Steve finally answered.
“ Yeah. Of course. Over.”
Steve could hear the relief in Will’s voice, and it spurred him into action. He was inside the arcade, grabbing Dustin by the arm and dragging him out, before he’d really thought it through. Lucas followed immediately, as he’d known that he would. Both boys were alarmed by the time they made it to the car, having noted that Steve was still carrying his walkie.
“Do we have a code red?” Lucas demanded, sliding into the backseat. (Dustin had permanently claimed shotgun a long time ago, and nobody wanted to find out what he’d do if it was taken away from him. Steve just shrugged and ignored it whenever one of the others looked at him to step in and say something.)
“Nope,” Steve told them cheerfully. It was a forced cheerful, and he knew that they knew it. “I just got tired of waiting for your sorry asses.”
“Bullshit,” Dustin shot back, crossing his arms. “You’ve never once dragged us out. What happened? Who called?”
“None of your business,” Steve informed him as he threw the car into drive and sped down the street in the direction of Lucas’s house. He’d made it two whole blocks before he was informed that the two boys were supposed to be going to the Wheeler residence for the night. He had to turn around in the mall parking lot, and he was muttering angrily under his breath for most of the rest of the drive. It wasn’t enough for him to miss the worried glances the boys kept giving each other.
“Steve, if a member of the party is in trouble, you have to tell us. That’s the rule,” Dustin told him seriously when he parked in front of the Wheelers’ house.
“Nobody is in trouble,” Steve sighed. It wasn’t a lie; Will wasn’t really in trouble. He was just having a bad day. Much like Steve, at this point.
“Friends don’t lie,” Dustin reminded him, giving one of Eleven’s favorite quotes. Steve rolled his eyes impatiently.
“I’m not lying. Now get out of my car, twerps. I have places to be,” he shot back. He made sure to keep his tone light, though. He really didn’t want to hurt their feelings over this.
“Got a hot date?” Lucas asked with a smirk. Steve shot back a smirk of his own.
“Maybe I do,” he replied, knowing it would get them to leave him alone. They scrambled out of his car pretty fast, not wanting to get any details about it. As much as they liked teasing Steve, the whole Party had made it clear that they didn’t want to know anything about his various failed dates. (“Unless they’re with Robin!” Dustin was always quick to chime in.)
Steve swung by the best pizza place in town on his way to Will’s house and splurged on a couple large pizzas and a two-liter of coke. It was worth it for the bright smile Will gave him when he opened the door for him. He got to watch the tension melt off of the kid’s shoulders the second he stepped inside of the house, and he even willingly sat through Star Wars for what had to be the fifth time. By the time Joyce got home, Will was sleeping peacefully on the couch while the end credits played through.
“I didn’t expect to see you today,” she told him quietly, careful not to wake her son. Her gaze never left Will’s sleeping form. “He hasn’t been sleeping for more than a few hours a night. I don’t know what you did, but… thank you.”
“I didn’t do anything,” Steve shrugged in bemusement. “I just showed up.”
“Sometimes that’s all it takes,” she told him with a gentle smile. “Won’t you stay for dinner?”
“We had pizza,” he told her sheepishly. “Another time, maybe?”
“You are welcome here any time at all, Steve,” she promised him. “I’d be willing to bet that’s the case for most of their houses.”
“Oh… I don’t know about that,” he said, blinking in surprise. “But thank you, Mrs. Byers. I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Call me Joyce,” she told him after a few seconds. “It’s late; you can sleep in Jonathan’s room tonight.”
“Oh, I couldn’t impose-” he started, but Joyce cut him off with a soft but firm look.
“What did I just say?” she asked him, crossing her arms. He’d be worried about having offended her if she wasn’t still smiling at him. All he could do was nod sheepishly and let himself be herded into Jonathan’s abandoned room. “He’ll be back in the morning, but he was planning to stay with a friend tonight, so it’s really no trouble at all.”
“Thank you, Mrs.- uh, Joyce,” he said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. She just nodded, giving him one last kind look as she left the room.
And really, what could he do other than shake his head and get ready for bed? Joyce Byers was a force to be reckoned with.
The fifth time
At this point, Steve had accepted that this was his life now. He’d get calls from the Party, and he’d drop everything to rush off and help them through whatever problems they were having that day. Sometimes that involved rides, sometimes it involved waffles, and sometimes it involved just listening to them vent about various teenager problems they were having. It was fine; he’d rather have them vent to him than let them deal with it on their own and possibly get hurt.
He was home alone (again; this was becoming more of a permanent thing than it ever had been before, and it was something he was starting to worry about) when he first heard the pounding on his front door. His car was in the driveway, so whoever it was had a pretty good idea that he was home. Still, that kind of knocking was never a good sign. At best, it was Hopper coming to check in on him (another thing that was becoming a habit), and at worst it was the government finally coming to investigate his involvement of everything involving the stupid lab. Either way, he had no interest in answering that door. No way.
The pounding stopped after less than a minute, and Steve let out a sigh of relief. It was most likely Hopper, then. He didn’t push if Steve didn’t open the door, but he usually made Eleven radio him later in the evening to confirm that he was okay. He could live with having a short conversation with El later. He didn’t think he could deal with having a stilted conversation with the chief of police tonight.
His relief was short-lived. Not even five minutes later, the pounding started up again- this time on the back door. That was not a normal thing. Hopper had never gone to the trouble of doing that before. That meant it was someone else. He stood up carefully and made his way back to his bedroom, closing and locking the door behind him. He kept the light off, using the last light of the day to make it to his desk where the walkie was currently sitting.
The first thing he noticed was that it was turned off. He didn’t remember turning it off, but that probably meant that he hadn’t turned it back on this morning. The second thing he noticed was that it had gone quiet again. No more knocking. He let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding and turned the walkie on.
“- STEVE! STEVE, DO YOU COPY?! OVER!”
He dropped the walkie in shock, not expecting the immediate shouting voice of Dustin freaking Henderson. The walkie hit the ground and stopped making noise, a clear sign that it had hit the power button when it hit the floor. With a sigh, Steve picked it up and turned it back on. Thankfully, there was no screaming this time.
“Dustin, what the HELL?” he demanded. “Over.”
“THANK GOD! I’VE BEEN TRYING TO GET YOU ALL DAY! Over.”
“I’m sorry,” Steve told him quickly. “I didn’t know my walkie was powered off. But hey, while I’ve got you here, I’m in a bit of a… situation.”
“I do NOT need to hear about your ‘situations’, Harrington,” Dustin replied immediately in a disgusted tone. “Over.”
“Not that kind of-” Steve cut himself off and took a deep breath to calm himself. It would do no use to get angry right now, and he couldn’t exactly raise his voice with an unknown government entity outside of his door. “Listen, someone is trying to get into my house, and I’m home alone. I need you to call Hopper and get him to come check it out for me. Over.”
He was not expecting Dustin to start laughing at him. “Dude, if you’d open your door, you’d know that it’s just me. When I couldn’t get ahold of you, I came to check on you. Let me in, idiot. Over.”
It wasn’t very often that Steve genuinely felt like an idiot, but this was one of those rare moments. Of course it wasn’t the government coming to silence him. How dumb was that? Still, he couldn’t be blamed for assuming the worst. Dustin knocked like someone with an agenda. He hadn’t even known that the kid had it in him to be so aggressive. He shut the walkie off again and debated just… not opening his door.
In the end, of course, it took him less than a minute to cave and go let the brat inside. Dustin didn’t even bother to ask permission before ducking under Steve’s arm to get inside. He made himself at home on Steve’s couch, then looked over at him expectantly. “Dude, close the door. You’ll let in flies. Were you raised in a barn?”
Steve closed the door a little harder than necessary, grinding his teeth together when he turned back to Dustin. “What are you doing here?”
“I was worried,” he replied, not looking worried in the slightest. Steve walked over to the couch, but he chose not to comment. The closer he got to Dustin, the more he could tell that the other boy was upset about something. Dustin had small bags under his eyes, and he was a little paler than usual. Steve had an uncomfortable feeling that Dustin might be ill.
“So you thought you’d come break my door down?” Steve asked, crossing his arms as he settled at the other end of the couch. Dustin looked guilty for a whole two seconds before he shook it off and grinned at Steve.
“You didn’t answer your walkie,” he shrugged. “What else was I supposed to do?”
“Assume that I wanted to be left alone?” Steve asked sarcastically. He immediately regretted the words when Dustin’s shoulders drooped and the smile fell from his face.
“Did you?” he asked, looking like he was about to stand up and leave. “Sorry, I’ll just-”
“Sit your ass back down,” Steve sighed. The uncharacteristic behavior only confirmed Steve’s suspicions. Dustin definitely wasn’t feeling well. He just wasn’t sure why he’d come here instead of letting his mother take care of him. “No, I didn’t want to be alone. I just forgot to turn the walkie on this morning. I’ve been a little distracted the last few days. But I’m not distracted enough to miss that you’re sick.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dustin tried, but Steve just stared at him until he sighed and nodded. “Mom hasn’t noticed yet, and she’s been so distracted by the new cat that I’m not sure she’d have time to take care of me.”
“Your mom loves you,” Steve pointed out gently. “If she knew you were sick, she’d drop everything to get you healthy again. You just have to tell her.”
“Yeah,” Dustin agreed after a second. Steve could tell that he didn’t really believe it, though. “I was at Lucas’s house until a little bit ago, anyway. I was supposed to be spending the weekend with him.”
“Why aren’t you still there?” Steve asked, raising his eyebrows. Sinclair’s parents would almost definitely notice that there was something wrong with Dustin and give him the help he needed. Steve didn’t believe that was why he’d left, and he was right.
“Lucas invited Max over,” Dustin said almost bitterly. “You know I like Max and all, but it gets old sitting there while they kiss and pretend they’re alone. There aren’t enough comics in the world to distract from the sound of stupid kissing.”
“So you left and came here,” Steve finished for him. Dustin nodded sheepishly.
“You weren’t answering your walkie, and I figured… you always have time for me,” Dustin replied quietly.
“Of course I do,” Steve agreed instantly. He was glad that Dustin knew that. “But I don’t know the first thing about taking care of a sick kid, Henderson. I’m not a mom.”
Dustin gave him a look that was simultaneously amused and condescending, and Steve was certain the look would have made Robin proud. “Sure, Steve.”
“Look… okay, we’ll figure this out,” Steve sighed. He didn’t feel like trying to argue about it, especially since he was well aware that he wouldn’t win that particular argument. “What exactly are you feeling?”
“Um,” Dustin said, looking uncomfortable. Steve waited it out. “I don’t know. I’ve got cold chills, my stomach hurts but I’m not throwing up, I’ve got a headache that won’t go away, and my throat hurts.”
Steve lifted his hand to Dustin’s forehead the way he’d seen Joyce do to Will many times, and he immediately knew that Dustin had a fever. He silently tacked that onto the list of symptoms. He was willing to bet it was strep throat, which was something he’d had a few times in the past. He nodded to himself, standing up to go gather supplies. “Don’t talk anymore. You’ll only make your throat worse. Make yourself comfortable while I go grab some medicine and a hot water bottle, okay? Use the blanket there.”
When he left the room, Dustin was tucking himself under the blanket, curling up into a ball on his couch. He was going to just go grab the medicine when he remembered something Dustin had said to him a long time ago. When a member of the Party is in trouble, the rest of the Party must be informed. That was the rule, and he’d be damned if he broke it. He wasn’t interested in getting yelled at by a bunch of kids later. He went back to his room, flipping on the walkie and radioing Lucas. The answer was almost immediate.
“Please tell me you’ve got Dustin. Over.”
“Yeah,” he agreed. “He showed up here not that long ago. Did you know that he’s sick? Over.”
“... No, we didn’t. He didn’t say anything. Over.”
Steve pushed his anger back, knowing it would do no good in this situation. Dustin shouldn’t have had to say anything. He pushed on, knowing he’d be having a long talk with the Party at a later date about paying closer attention to their friends.
“Right. Well, he is,” he replied carefully. “I don’t have his mom’s number, but I know you guys know it. I need you to give her a call and let her know that he’s here with me, and that I’m pretty sure he’s got strep throat. I’m going to give him some medicine and help the best that I can, but she’ll be better at it than I am. Over.”
“All do respect, moron, but I think you’re wrong,” Max informed him bluntly. Steve was willing to bet that she’d ripped the walkie out of Lucas’s hands. “He went to you for a reason. You seem to at least know a little of what you’re doing. We can tell his mom, but he’s more comfortable there with you. Do you really want to move him right now? He’s supposed to be here for the weekend. What difference does it make if he’s here or there with you? Over.”
Steve hesitated, unsure of how to answer. Dustin had said something similar about his mother not caring. While Steve knew that wasn’t true, that didn’t meant Dustin would be comfortable going back home while he was thinking his mother would be too distracted with a cat to care for him. He still remembered what Dustin had said, about Steve always having time for him. He swore softly to himself, realizing that he was really going to be taking care of a sick kid all weekend.
“Damn it. Okay, fine. But if his fever gets any higher, I’m driving him home myself,” he snapped. Or to the hospital, he added in his head. “The two of you better come check on him tomorrow, too. You’ve got him thinking that you’d rather be alone together than have him around. Over.”
“That’s not true! Over.” Lucas sounded so upset that Steve immediately believed him. He was also a little worried that the two of them were going to drop everything to ride over that night, and that would do nobody any good at all. He wasn’t hosting a sleepover for young teenagers. No way.
“I’m just telling you what I know. So get your asses over here in the morning, no earlier than eleven. I’ll have lunch ready,” he told them quickly. Hopefully that would prevent them from showing up in an hour or so. “Over.”
“We’ll be there. Over and out.”
When Steve made it back to the living room with the medicine and more blankets, he found Dustin completely passed out on the couch. He sighed heavily, dropping the supplies on the chair before shaking out a second blanket to lay on top of the kid. He distinctly remembered his mother talking about making him sweat out his fevers, and it seemed to work… it was worth a try.
“Damn kids are going to be the death of me,” he muttered to himself as he tucked Dustin in. The kid must not have been fully asleep, because he muttered out a reply almost immediately.
“You love us,” the kid reminded him sleepily. Steve rolled his eyes, but he didn’t step away immediately.
“Yeah,” he sighed, making sure no feet or hands were out from under the blanket. “I really do.”
And then…
Getting kicked out by his parents when they finally returned to town was almost anticlimactic. He’d almost been expecting it, if he was honest. His father had made his displeasure in his son’s grades obvious from the moment Steve had graduated without a college offer. The job at Scoops Ahoy! hadn’t helped at all. It didn’t matter that Steve was still applying to colleges, and was pretty sure he’d gotten into the community college in the next town over. They still saw him as a disappointment and a failure. Honestly, he was lucky they’d waited so long to do it.
He was given one day to pack his shit and get out, and he was told that he’d be allowed back only if he managed to make something of himself. It stung, but he’d long ago accepted that his found family was much better than his biological one. He packed his favorite clothes, his baseball bat with the nails, and the walkie-talkie, and he drove away with the little dignity that he had left.
It was quickly apparent that he didn’t know where he was supposed to go. He didn’t make enough at Scoops Ahoy! to pay rent anywhere, and he absolutely refused to burden the people he cared about. He remembered what Joyce had said about him always being welcome in her home, but he couldn’t bring himself to go there. She didn’t need another mouth to feed. He knew that none of the families of the Party would turn him away; they were all well aware that he was taking care of their kids, and they showed their gratitude in their own ways… but none of them needed another person hanging around their houses.
His best bet, for now, was to find a full time job and give up on the idea of college. Even if he’d gotten into the community college the next town over, he officially had no way to pay for it. He could use the little money he had to buy a few nights in a motel, and then he could live out of his car for a while until he could afford to pay for a crappy apartment. It would suck, but he would survive. He just didn’t know how he was going to hide it from the kids. They were too observant for his liking.
The first two days went perfectly fine. He got himself a room at the motel and moved the couple boxes of his possessions into it. He drove the kids to the arcade, and used the time that they were there to apply for jobs around town. He ate dinner with the Byers once, and took Eleven and Mike to the diner the second night. That was the last of his cash.
The third day was a bit more tricky. His boxes were moved to the trunk of his car, and he spent the day making excuses to various members of the Party when they asked for rides, or to hang out. Dustin was the hardest to turn down. Ever since Steve had nursed him back to health, he’d been extra clingy. Steve had thought it was cute at first, but now it just gave him anxiety. He didn’t want Dustin to see him as a failure. He didn’t want anyone in his found family to see him that way, even though he definitely felt like one.
The fourth day, everything came crashing down on him. He went in to apply for a job at the police station, and Flo made him stay until Hopper could interview him that very day. It was tricky, going through the interview without offering a true explanation for wanting a full time job. Thankfully, Hopper took his excuse of wanting experience in protecting people for if something else came to attack the town seriously, and he didn’t push for more details. He left the station with a job and some hope for his future. Any happiness he might have been feeling fled when he saw that Eleven and Will were standing in front of his car with crossed arms.
“Steve,” El said firmly, locking eyes with him. “Friends don’t lie.”
“Uh, right,” Steve agreed awkwardly. “What’s up, guys?”
“I think we should be asking you that question,” Will said softly. His tone was a bit dangerous. “Why do you have boxes in your trunk? Are you moving?”
With El giving him such a firm look, he couldn’t think of a good enough lie to excuse the strangeness of the situation. “Not exactly.”
“Why were you in the station?” Will pushed. “Are you in trouble?”
Steve opened his mouth to lie, but El narrowed her eyes, and he snapped his mouth shut. How could she do that? He let out a sigh and moved around them to unlock the doors. “Get in. I don’t know about you guys, but I’m starving.”
He had just enough money from his latest pay day to buy the three of them a round of waffles at the diner. He’d never minded spending money on the kids; their happy faces made it worth it to him. Another week in his car wouldn’t hurt him, he was sure. They let him wait until they had food in front of them before they started pushing for an explanation again.
“Okay, okay. Relax, would you?” he sighed. He let his fork rest on his plate as he thought about what he wanted to say. “I’m not living at home anymore. I got into a fight with my folks and it resulted in me leaving. I was at the station because I needed a new job, one that pays a little more. But I’m fine, I promise.”
“Friends. Don’t. Lie,” Eleven reminded him firmly. He wasn’t sure if she fully understood what he’d just told them, but he knew that Will did. The kid was giving him such a sad look that Steve had to look down at his plate if he didn’t want to tear up. He’d done a pretty good job of keeping his emotions in check so far, and one kid wasn’t going to ruin that.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Will asked quietly. “How long have you been living in your car?”
“I got a room at the motel,” Steve said quickly. He didn’t add that it had only been for two nights, and based on the looks on their faces, he didn’t need to. “I didn’t want to worry anyone. I’m fine. I got the job at the station, and I’ll have enough for a place of my own in a few weeks. It’s no big deal.”
He was too busy looking down at his plate to see the look that the two kids shared. It was quiet for a long time while they ate, and Steve smacked Will’s hand away when he tried to offer his allowance to help pay for the food. He drove them both home, then found a stretch of abandoned road to park on for the night. He’d just gotten comfortable when someone tapped on his window insistently.
He wasn’t really surprised to see Hopper standing on the road outside of his car. He was a little surprised to see the entire Party crowded behind him, glaring at him angrily. He was tempted to throw the car into drive and run from his problems, but he opened the door and climbed out instead. Best to just get this over with.
“Hey guys,” he said, rubbing the back of his head. “Fancy seeing you here.”
“What the hell?!” Dustin demanded angrily.
“Uh,” Steve replied, wracking his brain for something he could say to diffuse the situation.
“When a member of the Party is in trouble, you have to tell the rest of the Party! That’s the rule!” Dustin continued angrily. Steve glanced at Hopper for help, but he seemed content to let the kids yell at him.
“I wasn’t aware that a member of the Party was in trouble,” he admitted. “Who is it, and whose ass do I need to kick? Point me in the right direction. I’ve got my bat in the trunk.”
His statement was met by confused silence, and he frowned. Why weren’t they saying anything? He was pretty sure he’d proven by now that he’d do anything for these kids. Kicking some ass was hardly bigger than some of the things he’d done for them in the past. He glanced at Hopper again, and he was disturbed to see sympathy and sadness in the chief’s eyes. Something was really wrong here.
“Steve,” Eleven said very seriously. “You are a member of the Party.”
“What? No I’m not,” Steve replied, frowning. The confusion that had been left on some of their faces was now replaced by sadness as they realized that he really didn’t think of himself as a member of their Party.
“Do you not want to be a member?” Mike asked quietly, looking a little frustrated. “Or are you just being your usual dense self?”
“I’ve never been a member of the Party, and that’s okay. My job is to take care of you guys,” he replied easily. “Obviously I’m decent at it, or you guys wouldn’t be here.”
“Steve,” Eleven said quietly, looking stricken. He hated that look on her face.
“You’re a member of the Party, doofus, whether you like it or not,” Max snapped. “And you should have told us that you’re in trouble. We can help you.”
“That’s what we do,” Lucas added. “We help each other.”
“You’re supposed to follow us back to my house,” Will told him firmly. “My mom said if you’re not there by nine, she’s going to come looking for you herself.”
Steve felt himself shiver at the threat. There were few things he was scared of more than an angry Mrs. Byers. “Why?”
“Because, and I quote, ‘No family member of mine will be living in their car, temporary or not’. She’s very serious about it,” Hopper told him. “I wouldn’t test her.”
“Guys,” Steve started, but Dustin cut him off angrily.
“If the next words out of your mouth have anything to do with you not being in trouble, or not being part of the Party, I’m going to find your bat and hit you with it. Repeatedly,” he told him.
“Get in your car, drive to Mrs. Byers’ house, and apologize for being a moron,” Max advised him. “Maybe not in that order. You should apologize first.”
“I’m… sorry?” Steve tried. He was still pretty confused. He didn’t know when the kids started to think of him as one of them, and he didn’t really have the energy left to focus on it. “I just didn’t want to burden anyone. I’m not exactly… I don’t know.”
“I don’t know what your parents told you when they kicked you out,” Hopper started. Steve gave him an alarmed look, but the chief ignored him. “But you aren’t any of those things. You’re not a failure, you’re not good for nothing, and you’ve got a bright future ahead of you. I wouldn’t hire just anyone, not even a friend of my daughter’s. You’re going to stay with Joyce until you’re back on your feet, you’re going to work at the station until you get your acceptance letter, and then you’re going to take classes at the college and work part time anywhere you choose. If that’s the station, then so be it. And you are not going to argue with me. Am I clear?”
“Yes,” Steve said after a few seconds, because he was. He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve the chief’s respect, but he was grateful for it.
“And before you get any ideas about leaving before you find a place, I’m going to be doing nightly checks of all the roads in Hawkins. If you’re parked on any of them after ten, I’m dragging your ass back to the station,” Hopper finished.
“And if you get arrested for being stupid, we’re not going to come visit,” Dustin added, crossing his arms.
“You guys…” Steve didn’t know how to finish the sentence. He was horrified to feel tears forming in his eyes the longer he looked at all of them. Especially Dustin. The kid was a little shit, but he was his little shit.
“You take care of us all the time,” Dustin pointed out. “Let us take care of you, for once.”
“Okay,” Steve whispered, giving in to the inevitable. “Okay.”
That was apparently all he needed to say to find himself in the middle of a massive group hug. He couldn’t stop his tears from falling if he’d tried, and he didn’t try very hard. He let himself be hugged, let himself feel the grief and the love and the pain. And for the first time ever, he let himself feel like a true member of the Party.
Bonus
“I can’t believe you didn’t know you were a member of the party!” Dustin complained, glaring at him from the passenger seat. He’d opted to ride with Steve rather than with the rest of the Party on the way to the Byers residence. Steve couldn’t bring himself to be annoyed by it.
“How was I supposed to know? You guys never came out and said it,” he complained right back. He didn’t miss Dustin’s incredulous look.
“Do you think we give walkies to just anyone?” the kid snapped, the incredulous look turning almost offended at the thought.
“Well,” Steve started, but he stopped himself from continuing. It was lucky that he did. He didn’t feel like getting yelled at even more.
“Don’t… don’t answer that,” Dustin sighed. “Do you at least acknowledge it now?”
“Yes,” Steve replied, smiling softly.
“Really?” Dustin asked, eyeing him suspiciously. Steve kept as straight a face as possible as he replied.
“Friends don’t lie,” he reminded Dustin. His straight face lasted a whole thirty seconds, until Dustin started hitting his arm and he busted up laughing. He deserved it, even if he’d been completely serious in the moment.
“You know that Mrs. Byers is going to kill you, right?” Dustin asked after a short silence. They were almost to the house. Steve shuddered, knowing for sure that Dustin was right. He wasn’t looking forward to it.
“Yeah,” he said quietly.
“It’s because she cares,” Dustin told him, sounding too wise for his age.
“Yeah,” he repeated.
“If you’re living there, does that mean Will is more like your brother than your kid?” Dustin asked, smirking slightly. Steve started to answer automatically.
“Ye- hey!” Dustin laughed, throwing himself out of the car and racing up to the porch before Steve had even managed to put it in park. He was chasing after him as soon as the key was out of the ignition. “Get back here, you little shit!”
“ Steve Harrington! You will explain yourself immediately!” Joyce demanded from just inside the door. She sounded angrier than he’d ever heard her before.
“Oh shit…”